Flesh splits. Bones break. Screams build. The synchronicity of woman and wolf has long been buried. Ruled by the moon and her cycles of blood, rage, and transformation, the desire and pull to shapeshift and transmute runs deep beneath her skin. She is a beacon of duality, the divine and the monstrous, the deep glow of wolfsbane and the indent of fresh bite marks on skin. We fear her because we are her: the feral, the wild, the mad.From Charles Perrault's "Little Red Riding Hood" to Rachel Harrison's Such Sharp Teeth, women have been dancing with the wolf and teasing it out of the woods for centuries.

We feed the untamed, hoping to release the beast inside, giving us strength, sisterhood, and the confidence to howl. The animal releases us from shame and permits us to seek out and accept our truth. With the wolf, we are free; with freedom, we are empowered.In a world where silver is the least of our worries, HOWL seeks to give voice to the wolves and women of contemporary horror as they shed their skin, unhinge their jaws, and bare their teeth for all to see.