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This is a question I’ve been asked quite a few times. And the short answer is no, it isn’t. But while there are no recurring characters from Camwolf in Midnight in Berlin, the two novels are set very firmly in the same universe. And it’s one where the nightlife in Germany often steps out in fur and fangs. (I’ll be writing about why Germany and werewolves are often linked in my mind in the March edition of The Big Thrill, the magazine of International Thriller Writers—watch my blog for details when it’s out).

Although Camwolf is set in Britain, all the werewolves have some connection with Germany. Nick, the hero of Camwolf, was infected by his ex boyfriend Carl, who was bitten by a man he’d hooked up with while spending a year studying in southern Germany. Julian, Nick’s lover, is German, and was deliberately infected by his father, the leader of a pack of werewolves.

Leon, my American protagonist and narrator in Midnight in Berlin, is about to find out for himself the hazards of casual sex in a foreign country. If you’ve read Camwolf, you may be a little surprised at what Leon finds himself confronting in Christoph, but there’s a definite reason for this. Notice I don’t say it’s a good reason! I’d love to tell you what it is, but sorry—no spoilers!

Just for fun, here’s a couple of snippets to compare and contrast:


Nick & Julian from Camwolf:

Julian drew in a sharp breath. “If you change more frequently, the pain lessens. Considerably. I can’t believe you didn’t know that.”

“Well, forgive me for not having been brought up by werewolves!” Nick regretted his temper immediately, as Julian’s face took on that closed look he’d seen all too often. “Look, I’m sorry,” Nick forced himself to say. “It’s just a little galling—I’ve been a werewolf for three years now, and here you are, telling me I’ve been doing it wrong all this time!”


Leon & Christoph from Midnight in Berlin:

“Say, you, uh, you wanna keep your eyes on the road? In fact, you know what? I can walk from here. You can set me down anywhere now.”

“I don’t think so,” Christoph told me, his voice so damn cold I started to shiver…

“I won’t tell, okay? I’ll keep your secret, I swear it; you can let me go,” came out of my throat in a stranger’s voice. I felt sorry for the stranger. He sounded like he was on the edge of blubbing like a baby. Me, I was thinking, right, let’s talk our way out of here and then we can get the cops onto the psycho beast-guy, let them deal with the werewolf shit.

I guess I thought that a little too loud.

“I’m sorry,” Christoph said. The crazy thing was, I actually believed him for a moment, but then his face warped again and the teeth grew and his hot breath was on my face and I was thinking, oh, God, Mom, I’m sorry—then he lunged to tear out my throat.

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