Cowboy Hunter Novels & Stories

Vacuuming carpets and dusting desks was mundane, but it wasn’t the worst job Cowboy Sam, a.k.a. Danny Yokes, had performed in his centuries long life. Still, as he ran the old Hoover WindTunnel over the faded navy blue flooring of Mrs. Lawrence’s fifth grade classroom, he couldn’t help but wonder what might be next for him. He needed to find a way to move on from here, to make contact with Alex or any of the other Hunters who might be willing to help him in some way. He knew there were thousands of Hunters and Guardians who wanted him dead, and though he felt he was fully capable of living by himself in the rustic state he now existed in for as long as he needed to, it was getting rather mon

Hunter was dressed like a cowboy. While I’m dressed like a rich heir of the owner of a farm. Hunter smiled. “I need your support,” he said. “For what?” “Well, I’ve been finessing my equestrianism skill,” Hunter said. A line etched on my forehead. “What the hell is that?” He chuckled. “Horseback riding.” My mouth went oh. “You could have said horseback riding than Equestria—whatever the hell it was.” Ian laughed at us.

"You're one of us, right?" We heard footsteps approaching the bathroom and she immediately released me. We were standing in front of the mirror when the door opened and a blonde guy walked in. He was Aaron. He stared at us strangely and said, ``I thought i heard something, Miss Wilson." I looked at Cathy who turned to the other side. "Nothing. Get out of here. This isn't the male's bathroom." I yelled and he walked out. I turned and saw Cathy seething in anger. Her eyes had turned light blue and I went into her thoughts. 'Hunters.'

Her growl echoed through the trees and her eyes glowed brilliant green. As Kathleen thrust the knife down, Emory shifted into full wolf and slipped through her legs. With extraordinary speed, Emory shifted back to Hunter, digging her fangs into Kathleen’s throat as she turned. Kathleen tried to thrust the dagger into her back, but she parried it with one flick of her wrist.

one of my patrol men frantically said in my head and I knew exactly why they were heading there, for the defenseless women and children. These stupid hunters were fighting dirty but not on my watch. I finished killing off the three hunters I was fighting, then raced towards the northern border. As soon as I spotted several hunters fighting one of my wolves, I jumped in and, in a few minutes, I managed to clear them out, leaving only a handful standing. An arrow came flying out of nowhere, nearly missing me, and I jumped on the hunter that shot it but the moment my fangs sunk into the hunter's shoulder, a jolt of electricity coursed through my entire body, going straight to my core.

The two of them just stared at each other, and I was, standing there like the odd one out. The last two years had been kind to my brother. No scars, no missing limbs. His ashy blond hair tied back into a low ponytail, right at the base of his neck. Clean shaven as always, a golden tint taken to his skin. Lean, and dorky in appearance, but still able to hold his own in a one on one. “...mate…” They both just said, in a very unison tone. My guess is the wolves were going insane inside their heads.

“That was something that had never happened up until the day my dad shot and killed that female Hunter who had helped ambush the team at Sierraville.” “Is that the place where Elliott was killed?” Zane asked. Jo wasn’t sure on all of the details, but she knew that much. “Yes.” She’d already told him some of this but repeated it now. “The Hunter who shot him was named Cowboy Sam. My dad shot a Hunter named Camilla. She’d shot… Jamie, I think. But then, Christian had gotten shot that night, too. Maybe it was him. I’m not sure. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that story, and it wasn’t one either of my parents liked to talk about.” She could hear voices ahead of her and knew they were alm

“I'm a fucking werewolf hunter now.” Once the other orders are cancelled, they make their way to the only manufacture in the country to make live silver bullets. “You boys are werewolf fantasy writers?” The owner asks as they enter the warehouse. “No, we are police detectives so we can transport this much live ammo,” Huck says, flashing his badge and credentials. “Makes sense, so you doing it for your girls?” The guy chuckles. “And my boyfriend,” Sawyer says, with a smile. “Lucky guy,” One of the box loaders winks at Sawyer.

- Bobby BOBBY/MANA: 40/100 *tag* the hunter step away has been blocked! the hunter change its move and now attacking to Bobby! "BARRIER!"- Bobby BOBBY/MANA: 30/100 *TANG!* "GWOO!"- Bobby Bobby now is coughing blood! the Hunter feels the danger and now trying to jump upward the barrier!! "no! BARRIER!!"- Bobby *TANG!* the HUNTER NOW has been sealed inside the barrier!! and its only way out is on its side but on that side, Timothy was there!

The kind of thing that belongs in fantasy novels, not an SUV ambush. Then another figure steps out of the trees. And another. And another. The treeline fills with them. Ten. Fifteen. More appearing by the second, each one nocking an arrow with the kind of ease that comes from a lifetime of practice. Elite hunters. Old-school killers. The kind of men who know how to bring down wolves with silver and wolfsbane, who’ve probably been doing it for generations. Every single one of them is aiming at Knox. And behind them, standing on the ridge like he’s watching a show — Harrison Crawford.