Best Montana Books Novels & Stories

I wandered through the compound until I found myself in the library, as usual. I browsed the shelves for a while before pulling out a thick book about the northern territories. The book was old, the pages yellowed and crinkled with age, but the hand-drawn illustrations were still beautiful. I got comfortable in one of the chairs near a window and began to read. Most of the content was about trade routes and pack histories, but one chapter caught my attention. It described the far northern mountains—the ones beyond the Thornwood, where no one ever set foot.

The little trading post was being well received by miners and loggers for miles around who appreciated the convenience of not having to trek into Fort Benson for basic staples. It was already late April. Winter was quick to come and slow to leave in the valley nestled in the mountains, but that didn’t stop the settlers from focusing on building a life for themselves. What proved to be a greater obstacle was the lack of law, unscrupulous men searching for gold, and the skirmishes between the Blackfoot and the Crow Indian tribes. Even so, Antoine Bellamy insisted that the young settlement of Muddy Creek in the Montana territory was as good a place as any to live in such a savage land.

“It shouldn’t be this warm this far north.” Laughing, I slid into the golf cart. “I love the heat!” Jennifer gave me a dirty look as she started the golf cart and we drove in silence as we enjoyed the wind in our hair. Montana was so beautiful with the green grass and the mountain peaks. The birds were chirping and all the wildlife was flourishing around me. As we pulled up, there were cleaning crews all around. I found the contractor a couple houses in so we stopped there and got out. Walking up the front door, I was able to open it and go right in.

"Montana in winter is beautiful and brutal, much like hunting a desperate Alpha who knows he's cornered." The snow comes sideways off the mountains, sharp and fine, finding every gap between collar and skin and staying there. The small plane rattles through turbulence on the descent and I watch the white landscape expand below us and think about a man who funded a monster for thirty years and is now hiding in a cabin twenty miles from nowhere, hoping nobody comes. We came.

We could get anything and everything to help our charges and us. Montana was a place I always wanted to visit, but never thought I would get the chance to. It was one of the states that Jadelynn and I had on our bucket lists. This was not how we imagined getting here, but it was still magical if it brought me to her.

Lyle was just as happy to be out of there as I was. *** I forgot how beautiful the sky in Montana was, and when it came into view, tears filled my eyes. I was finally home, and it felt so damn good. Anaconda was the town I grew up just outside of. There were nine thousand people here, but many local ranches around the outskirts. The sight of the mountains took my breath away. The sun drifted closer to the mountains as it began to set. It would be dusk by eight o'clock. “Where are we, Mommy?” Lyle asked.

Cat It’s our typical Monday morning on Wolfe Ranch twenty miles outside of Baker, Montana. Baker is a small town of about two thousand people but is widely known in the world. This sleepy little town had more going for it than just the cattle industry. There were other things around here to enjoy. There are three packs of werewolves that surround my property of three hundred acres. There’s one pack to the east, one to the west and one just north of us, leaving the south open to who knows what.

"Do you know any other stories about wolves that I might like?" "Oh, there are so many great ones!" she says, her eyes lighting up. "Have you ever read 'The Call of the Wild' or 'White Fang' by Jack London? They're both classics about the wilds of Alaska and the life of a wolf. Or 'Never Cry Wolf' by Farley Mowat - it's a nonfiction book about a biologist who studies wolves in the Canadian Arctic.” “Calm down!” I laughed. “You know a lot. What are you? A beta wolf?” I joked and Lauren laughed.

The impact of Roger’s boney whither against my tender crotch hindered my riding ability until I managed to put mind over matter and block out the discomfort. Using the light of the moon and trusting our mounts, we raced like the wind into the bowels of Wolf Mountain’s reserve. I remembered discovering a small cavern during one of my many days of exploration. It seemed like a good place to hide, so I headed us in that direction. Cindy was silent as she and Daisy kept pace with Roger and me as we rode like our lives depended on it to safety.

Munster Village Shawn Merritt was discontent with his life and his situation. The following was mostly a result of his unwanted endeavor. It had been years since the great flood and the war, and the long-haired warlock adventurer thought he could make a bet and beat the wealth hidden in a nameless grove near Munster Lake, an old forgotten stronghold from that time period.