‹ Back

Where a YouTube rabbit-hole meets a 1980s campfire tale

Land Between the Lakes National Recreation Area straddles Kentucky and Tennessee—and, according to local whisper networks, something else straddles the food chain out there. In the late 1980s newspapers ran fragments about a “werewolf” blamed for mutilated livestock. The articles never named names, but they were enough to launch decades of ranger rumors and blurry trail-cam photos.

Fast-forward to one insomnia-driven, 3 a.m. YouTube binge. I clicked a shaky video titled “LBL Beast: True Story?” (spoiler: it offered zero resolution), but the idea lodged like a splinter. What if the legend was real, the park service knew, and someone had to keep the secret? Enter Wes Keen, Alicia, and Bob with his shotgun-slash-emotional-support-weapon, Betty Boom Boom.

What the novel kept intact

A string of unexplained disappearances pinned on “animal attacks.”

Rangers who talk big off duty but clam up when a recorder appears.

Local hunters who won’t camp more than a mile from their trucks.

What I twisted for dramatic effect

The beast’s size—real legends put it at six feet; mine tops eight.

Government cleanup crews; they’re probably not black-helicopter rapid-response units in reality, but paranoia is a writer’s playground.

Nobody in the source material has ever named their shotgun. Bob fixed that oversight.

Why it matters to the story
Real legends carry a weight that pure invention can’t fake. Readers sense when a myth stands on true local lore—even if I crank the danger dial to eleven. And let’s be honest: it’s easier to imagine a monster in the woods when a park ranger pulls you aside and says, “Yeah, we don’t patrol that trail after dark.”

Have a favorite regional legend you’d like to see woven into fiction? Drop it in the comments or email me at brody@brodyverse.com. I’m always looking for my next 3 a.m. rabbit hole.