For detective alain logan, it's hard enough to police the vast wilderness of northern michigan without adding make-believe monsters to his list of troubles. it's true the first body found in the woods had part of her leg eaten, but the upper peninsula has black bears, even wolverines. it's a locale with all the problems of the real world--meth labs, budget cuts, winter like a toothache--and just happens to have myths that eat people. the huge tracks are harder for alain to explain, not to mention the fang marks on the disemboweled priest. as far as alain is concerned, a murderer is a murderer. these are his woods, his town, his gullible idiots, and no one is going to hurt them. it's his job to catch monsters whether they run on two legs or four, and he has to take care of this before his own damned nightmares about blood and dirt and darkness drive him to the loony bin.