Red Moon Party Novels & Stories

When I glanced toward the edge of the floor, Chandler was talking to Tinsley with his back to the room. The party was at someone’s house in a house up on Redstone Terrace, one of those glass-and-steel places on the ridge where the music bounced off the cliffs and the driveway was heated and the windows were floor-to-ceiling panoramic. The kind of house that was built to make a statement. Evan drove me. Stetson took Noelle, Emory, and Maekynzie.

The party was held just beyond the Castle, a few feet from the Red River lake. A large tent had been set up on the river bank surrounded by small torches that burned a bright orange in the darkness of the moonless night. Stacks of wine crates stood just outside the tents and I wondered if the cellar had been cleared out for this purpose. The tent, by some magic Lucy hadn’t bothered to explain, hid the loud music from the drummers so well that it wasn’t until we were almost in front of the lace curtains draping the door that we heard it.

I say, laughing at his face. “Thanks bro. I would never get on your nerves again. The party is at 10pm. See you at 10:37pm.” With that, he dashes out of the kitchen, jumping excitedly like a child in a house full of candies. Very strange and funny. I would never stop teasing him. At 11pm we arrived at the Red Moon park. The hall where the party was held was already filled with people of different status. Soon I notice Roman getting along with his mate and being all lovey-dovey. So unfortunate. Ha!

They were startled and scared. The tension in the atmosphere was alarming that even those who attended the party noticed it. I looked to the sky to avoid all the curious looks I was getting from my pack members. And that was when I noticed that the moon which was shining bright when I was driving back was now blood red in color. This definitely was a bad sign. “Alright, the party is over. You may now retire to your homes to get some rest to enable you to wake up early tomorrow and resume your normal activities.” Damien turned to the crowd and announced while jamming his hands together.

I was suddenly having a hard time remembering what I was talking about. "What about it?" He was standing so close I could feel his eagerness pressed against me through my dress. Then he raised my arm and placed it around his neck from behind. "Isn't this a Blood Moon Party?" I asked as he kissed slowly down my neck. "Yes." His voice was low and sexy. "It is." I looked around and everyone was swaying to the music, bumping and grinding, kissing and fondling, but it was sensual and erotic, the most erotic moment of my life, leaving me to wonder what I'd just gotten myself into... as the moon above us suddenly turned blood red.

For a moment, it was simple enough — no lies, no secrets, just the spell of the festival wrapping us in its crimson haze. “Thirsty?” I screamed over the noise, leading us to an impromptu bar where elders ladled Rune’s notorious concoction from enormous clay pots. I took out two clay mugs, the liquid swirling inside with an ominous iridescent shine. Kael nosed forward, inhaling cautiously and his nose wrinkled. “Shit, that smells like it’d take paint off. What is it?” I laughed, clinking mugs with him. “This is what Red Moon parties are like, Kael. You don’t sip; you surrender. Bottoms up.”

Maria wore a red cocktail dress, while Kira decided on a deep purple dress with a slit running up her thigh. While the two of them finished up their hair and make up, we made plans for after the ceremony ended. They both wanted to go to a human club to see some band play. I knew Killian would never let me go alone, but the girls suggested I invite him too. I figured it wouldn't hurt to try. The party was on the other side of pack territory. It was outdoors and reminded me of the Moon Ball. The canopy was massive, and had twinkling lights running through it. Much like the moon ball, there were tables littered everywhere. Some were full of food, while others were empty.

Kavah says grimly. “Let’s cross that bridge if we come to it…” I say to the group. - - - The next night, Bronson and I celebrate the full moon festival with the East Moonrise Pack. It was April, making it the Pink Moon. Everyone is dressed in pink, and the outdoor theatre is decorated with pink roses. The party pulls Bronson and I in different directions, but we agreed on a plan.

She passed out lowly. "Finally, some peace," he muttered, he looked disgusted by her unconscious sight. * * * When we arrived at the club, the atmosphere hits with , loud music, smoke, the smell of cheap alcohols. Teenagers and adults grinding together, pretending this was freedom. We arrived at the club disguised, dresses cut to draw eyes. Mine was red, short, open at the back, it’s shortness reaching right at my butt cheeks, a long flawless sleeves designed to make it look seductive to the eyes. My hair was a curl green, and a heavy makeover.

But something in his expression tightened—something complicated, like recognition he wasn’t ready to admit out loud. “Again tomorrow,” he said. “Earlier. The forest shifts with the moon.” “When is the moon… bad?” He didn’t hesitate. “When Darius watches.” “And when is it good?” He looked at me. Something warm flickered between us. “When you don’t run from it.” I swallowed. “Okay,” I whispered. He stepped back. “Go home,” he said. “Rest. Eat. You’ll feel things more sharply tonight.” “That’s comforting.” “You’ll survive it.”