Fantasy Western Novels & Stories

VOLUME SIX: A COWBOY AND HIS SWEET SPOT Carter's ass bounced on the hard seat of his banged-up pickup truck as he drove across the state line into Wyoming. Man, he was tired, and his butt hurt. Riding fourteen hours on the back of a horse was much more comfortable than six on the worn-out seat in the truck.

Despite his urgency to reach home, Jasper decides to take Lianna and her horse along with him on the journey back home to Montana. Meanwhile, Alpha Briar West, a composed and confident leader, faces a new challenge when an unforeseen issue arises from the recent cattle thefts at Wolfe Ranch. He becomes the target of the enraged Alpha from the Winnipeg Pack, who seeks retribution for a debt. As if this predicament wasn't enough, Briar also finds his mate in an entirely unexpected manner. Now, this cowboy must navigate the complexities of his relationship with his free-spirited mate, Sloan Taylor.

Brynn Hollis' POV The message came from a wolf I'd never seen. He collapsed at the gate, half-dead, his fur matted with blood and salt. His eyes were wild, his words slurred, but one phrase cut through the fever: "The Western Wastes are rising." We carried him to the infirmary. Solara worked her magic while I waited, pacing. "The Western Wastes?" Dax asked. "A territory beyond the mountains. Nothing lives there. Or so we thought."

Boring. He needed inspiration, something new and different. The only way to find the passion that defined his quirky artistic style was to start at the source of all things Western: rodeo. The salt-of-the-earth people—spectators, families of the cowboys and cowgirls, and the iron will of the competitors themselves. The livestock—angry, slobbering bulls, high-strung broncs kicking at the metal chutes, the bellow of steers, the nervous tamping of hooves behind the gates. The low bellow of the steers and calves in the pens. The rich scents of sweat and leather, mud and manure, the choking heat and the constant buzz of insects, hay and linament, tobacco and beer. The excitement. If he could capt

He pointed with his cigar to the red rock walls outside the window. "Used to be a drug route for the Sinaloa Cartel. I took some guys and wiped them out. A lot of people are buried under there… Further west, after the rainy season next month, herds of wild horses will run through." He talked a lot, but it wasn't annoying. Unlike Damian, whose every word was a move on a chessboard, every syllable hiding a calculation or a trap. Jasper was just sharing. Nakedly, unreservedly showing me this cruel yet fascinating desert, showing me his territory.

And faster than anything she’d ever seen. She’d buried friends. Elders. Cousins. She’d watched warriors—real warriors—die screaming. And no one could tell her why. So she left. She crossed borders and mountains. Lived off the land. Spoke to seers and trackers. She rode as Solana, the golden buckskin, silent and fast, swift as windfire across the continent. Still the pull led her further. West. Always west. Her dreams were growing stronger now—always the same: The white wolf standing on a ledge of stone. The sky burning behind her. A crown of thorns and stars over her head. And five glowing pillars of colored light shooting into the heavens—each pulsing with raw power.

Then he said, “We’re almost finished conquering the eastern zone. Any plans with the southern and western states?” I turned my gaze to the south and west sides of the map. We called them the Meridionalis and Occidentalis. On the map, Meridionalis was mostly the color of sand and mud, as it consisted of the vast lands of deserts. There were no permanent packs there, and it only served as the wolves’ route toward the other pack. On the other hand, the Occidentalis were also abundant in wild and dark forests. But unlike our region, they have more rocky mountain ranges, which served as a frontier and protection against their enemies.

“Mostly fantasy books… like romance and stuff.” “She is being modest. She has written seven books so far.” You could tell Wade was proud of her. The way he looked at her with admiration in his eyes was warming. “They are about werewolves, but in more of a fantasy setting. However, your story might make for a good plot.” Courtney looked between us. “I’ll look forward to our story being published!” Courtney’s face lit up. “Really? You would let me write about it?” I was a little confused. “Sure, why would I not let you?”

One was born with dark hair and his father’s eyes. The other, the second born, emerged wearing a tiny symbiont. The End About the Author Autumn Dawn Beaudreault writes futuristic, urban fantasy and paranormal romance. With nearly thirty books and seven series, she continues to thrill fans with her werewolves, dragons, elementals, gargoyles and trolls with a thing for Poe.

I can hear him behind me, pacing his breathing, more techniques As I pant to keep my breath, I hear him shift and barrel past me. “That’s not fair!” I scream as he turns around, running another circle around me. He slows down to my pace, poking me with his nose, cold and wet. “No, I don’t want a ride, I’m not a baby.” I say, his golden wolf staring at me, eyes saddened by my no. “ok, fine, for old times sake” Thomas lays down, his wolf has a giant smile. “Yes, Cai, I missed you too.” Scratching his wolf behind the ears, he takes off towards the house.