Cowboy Skeleton Novels & Stories

Withdrawing his beak from the skeleton's shield, Jim became aware of the skeleton's impending attack, so before the slash reached him he used the handle of his beak to stop it. The strong impact on the handle caused cracks to appear in it, not only that, the attack itself caused Jim's arms to go numb. Unable to react, the skeleton's next attack was a lunge which pierced a cost out of his chest. With the throbbing pain in his chest, Jim said a silent prayer that the wound would not be lethal. With a downward attack, Jim managed to separate the arm from the skeleton that possessed the shield, although because it was an undead creature, the lack of one of its limbs was hardly a minor inconvenie

Besides, he was pretty funny. Corbin was a tall lean guy with copper-colored skin, black hair, and dark brown eyes. He had your typical Wyoming accent and some ordinary cowboy bad habits like tobacco use. He was nice and would help you out if you needed it, but there wasn’t really anything special about him, other than his ability to ride.

The lines started to become more polished as the intelligence of the beasts increased until they became beautiful and majestic. The one that stuck out the most for David was the painting of a skeleton. It had 12 blood-red wings coming from its back, two pairs of horns grew on its head, and a red heart was glowing on its chest. It was pointing at the sky, and its flaming eyes looked upwards. Surrounding him were kneeling figures, some were tall, others were short, some were alive, some were ghosts. But all of them respectfully bowed to the existence that the skeleton was signaling. Skeletor looked with interest at the painting and tried to touch it with his bony fingers, but a hand stopped hi

Makai ran over quickly, and had the same reaction! "Who the hell are you? Why did you tackel me?" the wolf looked terrified. "Ni-Ko. I'm sorry, Rixa told me you'd be here, but" Damien stood, humiliated. Helping the wolf he hired back on it's feet, Damien bowed, and looked up. He had never seen this wolf in his life. "Who is this?" Makai asked. "A new wolf from Lunari Pack. Makai, Damien, meet Skai, my mate." She pulled back her hood to reveal long, fire red hair, and large orange eyes that were mesmerizing to look into for too long.

Declan stands motionless by the floor-to-ceiling window, the neon glow of the city bleeding across the hardwood like liquid gold, painting his silhouette in flickering light. His shirt hangs loose, the fabric clinging to the damp heat of his skin, sleeves pushed up to reveal the corded muscle of his forearms. The faintest sheen of sweat glistens along his collarbone, catching the light as his chest rises and falls with controlled restraint. His jaw is set, a muscle ticking beneath the stubble, his shoulders taut with something raw and unspoken. I can see the pulse hammering at the base of his throat, the way his fingers flex at his sides, as if fighting the urge to reach for me.

Don't forget his trusted knife. He bent down and checked my pulse to see if I was alive. He said in a very calm tone, "I told you we would play a game, princess. Now, I don't get to have any fun here, you do. You run and I count to hundred." He slung the quiver over his shoulder. He strapped the gun to his waist, hauled the other stuff into a bag and held the bow. "Then, I'll seek you. Ready, princess?" There was no use begging him for mercy and I knew(firsthand) that he was dead inside.

She understood how a werewolf body was built. She changed the search terms to "werewolf skeletal structure," "pureblood werewolf joint weak points," and "muscle power dead zones during frenzy state." The pages refreshed so fast they almost blurred. She opened an anatomical diagram. It showed the skeletal frame of a full-grown werewolf. She zoomed in and fixed her eyes on the joint between the third and fourth cervical vertebrae. A normal physical strike would barely break pureblood werewolf bones. Their healing was way too insane.

Goldie hit the ground, the oozing stump of his left leg cut off at the knee, once fluffy tail now docked. "You fucking animal!" He'd shifted back, blood loss weakening him without the influence of a full moon. He looked like the type of man that would try to sell you a used mattress over Craigslist. "What kind of sick bastard loads with pure silver?" The barrel pressed against Blondielock's forehead. In all my twenty-six years of living on this earth, I had never seen the infamous Midnight Cowboy. He was smaller than I expected.

He couldn’t go to the tribal village out of nowhere though, so he needed a plan of action. He’d been here in the infirmary with Blade. The man checked out as having a severe concussion, broken ribs, and a broken collarbone. Still, he hadn’t woken up. It wasn’t uncommon, considering the shape the man was in. Those Russians had nearly beaten him to death and that was before he was rolled off a moving SUV. But Cowboy got an odd feeling about this, about the long sleep the man was trapped in but he just couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

"Stay behind me." Under different circumstances, she might have argued. Instead, a bitter laugh almost escaped her. The thing emerging from the arch looked capable of tearing down fortresses. Cassian's sword suddenly seemed very small. The creature pushed forward again. A section of the arch exploded outward. Chunks of ancient stone crashed across the snow, and something emerged from the darkness—a massive horn, black as obsidian and twisted into impossible angles. It didn't look like bone. It looked as though a piece of the night sky had been ripped free and shaped into a weapon.