Montana Skies Book Novels & Stories

It gives me plenty of time. For now, I’m sitting on the deck out the back of my room with stunning mountain views and my ass seated on a wooden bench with backrest and my feet up on a low table in front of me. Pine fills the air since the lodge is surrounded. The sky is changing as the sun begins to dip down behind the mountains casting an almost orange and purplish-pinkish tinge to the peaks. It’s quite the view. I wish Harper could be with me but I understand that her sister needs her right now. She has more important things to take care of than running away to Montana with me for a few days.

The rhythmic hum of the rotors echoed through the metal shell of the helicopter, a steady thrum that filled the cabin like a heartbeat. From her seat beside Steve, Emma stared out the small window, watching the world blur beneath them as they cut through the sky toward Moon Valley. Clouds shifted like torn parchment above the distant mountains, and the wind occasionally jostled the aircraft with invisible fingers. She had always thought of the sky as a place of peace—open, endless, free. But now, thousands of feet above a crumbling world, her chest was tight with unease.

What was the point, otherwise? Roth stepped forward beside them, frowning up at the Roosevelt Arch. "Most of the poem was simply to get us here, to this park. The mention of 'wilderness' is obvious enough. And even the phrase 'big as the sky' might be a reference to 'Big Sky Country,' a well-known nickname for Montana." "Most of Yellowstone is in Wyoming," Xavier pointed out, but his leader went on as if he hadn't spoken.

My sight gets highly regaled as I'm immediately captured by the wonderful Montana sky. So smooth, so blue. "Loving it already?" Sam teases my smiling face, and I only shrug.

Evelyn said, getting up. Without many better options I did as she said. The more I looked around the room it was just bizarre. I felt oddly calm and relaxed. Right now I should be freaking out more than I ever had in my life. But I just didn’t truly feel the weight of it all right now. “Here we go,” she said, handing me a booklet. “The Sky Light, a haven right here on Earth.” I flipped through the pages to see magnificent waterfalls, mountains and streams. Valleys with green pastures and animals all around.

Three Years Ago Evening hunts are the best. I live for them. I live for the way the Montana sky spreads overhead, larger than even seems possible in a watercolor of purples and oranges. I live for the cold wind coming off the mountains to ruffle my fur and for the scent of our prey floating on that same breeze. I live for the pursuit. For the takedown. For the thrill of it all. So what the fuck is wrong with me tonight? Amora, take the left, Ridge orders from somewhere close by. His voice is just as low and gruff in our telepathic mind-speak as it is in his human form.

Grey POV Mid West Montana Despite the grinding sound of the snow under the high powered tyre of my truck, Daisie’s voice was the loudest. Her fragile soft voice continuously played in my head. I wish I had brought her along with me but there was no way that could be possible without getting her hurt, and she would likely slow me down, and in this case the rogues might likely defeat us, and lose more men. The scraping noise on the brake pads, crunching all the ice cube snow as we crossed the little border between Alaska and Montana. It was still snowing cat and dog, and would be pretty sure Chicago would be on it’s journey to the first sun rise of the year.

Here he was below the border, about to run off a huge horse herd, and in a few days or weeks he would be going up the trail to a place he had barely even heard of. Most of the cowpokes who went north from Lonesome Dove just went to Kansas and thought that was far—but Montana must be twice as far. He couldn’t imagine what such a place would look like. Jake had said it had buffalo and mountains, two things he had never seen, and snow, the hardest thing of all to imagine. He had seen ridges and hills, and so had a notion about mountains, and he had

He tried to help with the healing but there is only so much you can do when your parents keep re-opening them. Sighing, I finished grabbing all the herbs and spice I needed and made my way back inside. It was starting to get quite chilly and in two weeks, October will be here. In Montana, the winter comes early and most Halloween are white. I am not a huge fan of snow but I don’t hate it either. I was pretty wobbly on my feet but managed to make it inside.

Montana The next morning dawns bright… a little too bright. “Make it stop,” I groan, placing a pillow over my face to block out the much-too-bright sun as the incessant pounding in my head continues. “Uh,” I whimper, clutching the pillow tight. I’ve never had a hangover that caused such a loud pounding in my head. “Montana,” a woman yells. “Open your door.” Immediately, the annoying pounding resumes. I throw the pillow from my face, moaning as I roll to place my feet on the floor of the spinning room.