As a child, whether I was reading Joyce Stranger’s novels about animals getting too close to humans or James Herriot’s autobiographies about humans getting too close to animals, the only demand I made was that animals and humans had equal status as characters. Dorris Heffron’s City Wolves has taken me back to that joyful time of childhood bed, beach and bath reading and my untested faith that of course everyone loves animals as much as I do and if there is anyone out there who doesn’t they will get found out.
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City Wolves (Blue Butterfly) by Dorris Heffron |
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Imagine that your life is perfect. You live in New York. Your career is successful. You are married to a "good" spouse. You are also 30 years old and you realize that you don't want to start the family that you and your mate are trying to start. Here you are, crying on the floor of your bathroom in the middle of the night, overwhelmed by the reality of your fissured perfection.
Over the last decade there has been a near-plethora of books written about northern caribou. 
If you consider the dark thoughts, the absence of warmth and light, and the isolation that the winter months offer the people of the North, it's easy to imagine northern literature overrun by crime and mystery novels.Arctica Archives
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