Imagine if you will, New York City as part Faery land, populated with mythological creatures with wanton sexual desires and willing participants. Drink too much ambrosia, and you wake up with a hangover and find yourself half man half horse - a centaur. Live another year and you transform from faun to stud. Go to a basement sex club and find it run by none other than Pluto. And, then there are the werewolves, who invade Central Park every night in search of the frolicking fauns whose only purpose is to please the werewolves' animalistic sexual desires. Tom Cardamone's erotic tale, THE WEREWOLVES OF CENTRAL PARK, will transform you to an underworld from which you will not want to emerge. Next time you are in New York City, will you walk through Central Park after midnight? And, if you do, what will you make of the chorus of howls calling you and the scent of desire wafting through your flared nostrils?