Comanche Moon Book Novels & Stories

Blinded by grief from what his kin had done to the once peaceful Wolven Continent and to the Moon Goddess, Comba betrayed his children by asking the Moon Goddess to punish the witches. He said, “Nigh is the moment to teach the witches humility, Moon Goddess. This God will humbly close my eyes as you bathe the entire world with my children’s blood for what they have done to your kin,” said the weeping Comba in front of his companion. But the Moon Goddess was a gentle God – the contrast of the fierce Comba. They were made that way. While Comba could not see the light for his kin, the Moon Goddess sought another way to teach the sinners a lesson that would not cause more depravity between the t

His life was completely ruined. I watched their fates, and my heart remained still. I had a happy family and parents who loved me. These three men were nothing more than a bad dream from another lifetime. The Moon Goddess's form began to fade. Before she disappeared completely, she gently kissed my cheek. "Goodbye, kid." "Goodbye," I whispered softly. "May you be happy forever." As the last ray of moonlight vanished, I slowly opened my eyes. Morning sunlight streamed through the curtains.

"That book is the diary of Celene... the Moon Goddess' first daughter." I jumped, letting the book fall from my hands. Tony rushed over to me and held me close to his body. Heather slowly walked up to the table, sliding the book closer to me. "Let me tell you of a story." I frowned at her. Why was this necessary. "What story?" I asked. She smiled, looking from me to the book. "The story of Cimone... Celene's sister."

Someone—or something—was out there. I stepped back toward the door, my breath catching. Before I could move further, the shadows shifted, and a figure emerged from the treeline. My stomach dropped. It wasn’t a pack member. The man’s eyes glowed faintly, but not with the warm gold of Jaxon’s wolves. These burned a cold, unnatural green. His smile stretched too wide, sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. “Well, well,” he drawled, his voice carrying an eerie, rasping quality that made my skin crawl. “The little human pet.”

Colorado. Evening. Hours later, I arrive my destination. My body aches from the journey, but my mind won’t rest until I dig up the truth. Whatever has haunted our new Luna all her life I need to uncover it. For Gerald. For her safety. For the pack. Because whatever haunted her can come to attack the pack someday.

She turned back to me "I'm Nokomis, come on I'll introduce you to everyone and I can get you a cup." I nodded and followed her to the other women who were all either sitting or standing. Nokomis waved as we approached. "Women of the Blood Moon Pack, this is our new Luna, may she guide us in strength and wisdom." Nobody said anything, I could hear the cackle of the fire, as if it was laughing at me. Nokomis handed me a cup of who knows what and I slammed it. Hopefully this has a similar affect to whiskey because I need it. After I finished the cup, I looked up to find all the women staring at me before I raised my cup "Cheers.. I'll have another." All the women started to cheer and others lau

Munro’s animal feed store, and caught the older man just as he was leaving. “Mr. Munro? We need to get out of town. The checkpoint is barricaded.” “You can’t leave. It’s a full moon night.” Without any further explanation, Mr. Munro disappeared into the night, moving freakishly fast for a man his age. Keyah forced a smile on her lips. “You heard him. It’s a full moon night.” Aaron took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It’ll be alright.” They drove back the way they had come. Once again, Keyah set about building the fire, her movements skittish.

They aren’t exactly extinct but they go out of their way to keep to themselves. “Here, this is the pack. Harvest Moon,” River says, bringing a large book to my table. I push to my feet and carefully brush away some dust on the cover as I take in the crest. It’s a reddish rust colored moon, with three wolves howling around it. One, matches the color of the moon.

Many were written in old werewolf dialects, but a few were in Latin or ancient Inadu script—something Maria had begun teaching me during my Luna lessons. Finally, tucked between volumes on bloodline rituals and prophetic scrolls, I found it. A thin leather-bound book embossed with a crescent moon and stars. “The Moonborn Prophecy.” The title alone made my fingers tremble as I opened to the first page. The script shimmered faintly in the light, as if reacting to my presence. > “When the Luna marked by moonlight bleeds and blooms, she shall awaken the Song of Inadu and summon the war of the blood.”

“When I was small, my parents told me stories about moon-blessed children. Pairs of wolves marked by Luna herself for a special purpose.” Zane opens the ancient book, carefully turning brittle pages until he finds what he’s looking for. He spins it around to face us. The illuminated manuscript shows two wolves, one midnight black, one silver, standing beneath a crescent moon. Behind each wolf’s ear is a small, glowing mark identical to the ones Zane and I share.