The Last Werewolf

course there’s another story (among other things of how to get a nine-foot werewolf into a Land Rover) but it doesn’t belong here. There might be time for that later. I get the feeling I’ve caught the writing bug, in honour of Jake, yes, but also from psychological necessity. Talking to yourself might not cure loneliness, but it helps.

A month has passed since that night in Beddgelert forest, and though I’ve survived it hasn’t been easy. I couldn’t have done it without Cloquet’s help—but again, that’s a story for another time.

Tomorrow, if all goes as planned, I leave for New York.

In the meantime there’s the Curse to get through. Tonight’s the full moon, and the Hunger doesn’t care what you’ve been through or what your fears are or where you’ll be next week. There’s a comfort in it, the purity of its demand, its imperviousness to reason or remorse. The hunger, in its vicious simplicity, teaches you how to be a werewolf.

Maybe that’s the best way to end this postscript, with a statement of final acceptance. My name is Talulla Mary Apollonia Demetriou, and I am the last living werewolf on earth.

Until my baby’s born. Then there’ll be two of us.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

A big howl of appreciation to: Jonny Geller, Jane Gelfman, Melissa Pimentel, Nick Marston, Jamie Byng, Francis Bickmore, Sonny Mehta, Marty Asher and all at Canongate and Knopf; to Stephen Coates for musical genius and free psychotherapy; and to Kim Teasdale, without whom none of it would be any fun at all.

For the sound track to The Last Werewolf by The Real Tuesday Weld, go to: www.tuesdayweld.com/thelastwerewolf.

A NOTE ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Glen Duncan is the author of seven previous novels. He was chosen by both Arena and The Times Literary Supplement (London) as one of Britain’s best young novelists. He lives in London.