Western Fantasy Novels & Stories

From the west. Silas's voice: "Western passes. Deep western mountain approaches." A pause that had the quality of Silas confirming something before he said it. "It's not the Iron-Thorn. The frequency pattern is different — lighter, faster, individual signatures rather than formation density." Another pause. "I count several hundred individual wolves moving at speed." "The remaining Western Plains vanguards," Garrett said. "Has to be," Xander said. "They're breaking formation march." "They're running," Silas said. "The pattern is consistent with full-velocity overland movement. They dropped the march formation." He paused. "They're racing."

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.

Ever since she'd seen the news about the release of Wolf in her New Reviews magazine, she'd had a feeling in her gut this was where she needed to look. Jamie had credited a lot of her information to a book titled Legends of the Werewolf. Lia had read and reread the notes her great-grandmother had handed to her in those last sad moments. Notes that told about generations past that came here from Romania and grew the pack. This had to be the book. Legends of the Werewolf. Surely there couldn't be two books with the exact same title.

He had to admit this place wasn't as bad as he'd expected. He let his gaze wander around the shop, taking in things he hadn't really noticed yesterday. The artwork on the walls, for instance. Yesterday, they had been blurs of color. Today, he realized they were great examples of contemporary Western art. The style was very distinctive and arresting. Someone had lovingly painted a magnificent stallion, a small herd of horses galloping across a pasture, a tired cowboy at the end of a long day, and other similar scenes. Whoever this was might have come from Montana like he had, because the essence of the cowboy had been captured perfectly.

#MMWard W. Farnsworth W. Farnsworth lives and writes in Arizona. Over two hundred fifty of his short stories were published at a variety of venues from London to Hong Kong in the period 2014 through 2018.Published in 2015 were his collected Arizona westerns Desert Sun, Red Blood, his thriller about cryptocurrency crimes Bitcoin Fandango, his John Fulghum Mysteries, Volume I, and Engaging Rachel, an Anderson romance/thriller, the latter two by Zimbell House Publishing.Published by Zimbell House in 2016 and 2017 were Farnsworth’s Pirate Tales, John Fulghum Mysteries, Volumes II, III, IV and V, Baro Xaimos: A Novel of the Gypsy Holocaust, The Black Marble Griffon and Other Disturbing Tales, Amo

Her sky-blue eyes drilled holes behind Hakan’s head, flashing the three muscular men a smirk whenever their eyes would wander over to where she was. “Then, I’ll be leaving Richard in charge while I go out to the city. Check the borders, I’ve been hearing talks about rogue wolves roaming around the forest from our hunters.” The man called Richard stepped up before bowing his head, as he received orders from his alpha. The three burly men left immediately when Hakan dismissed the group, turning around to face Skye with her arms crossed and looking bored.

They trusted me, and I would not fail them. Our journey to the western district had been nothing to write home about. It took us three days of traveling. Barely stopping to rest or eat. We crossed deep valleys and mountains filled with strange animals that we of the eastern part have not seen before. Ellorin as a whole is a massive continent made up of two parts, the West and the East. The two of them are separated by a large forest that is known as the Great Forest. That is home to the rogues. We reached the western district in exactly three days and finally set camp in preparation for the attack. The west was ruled by only one leader. The one who called himself the master. So it is easy to

Right now, I need him. We head into town. We share the town with another pack called Red River. The town has shopping, restaurants and bars. We head to our favorite bar called The Hound. When we arrive several wolves, greet us as we walk to the bar. The owner Tommy pours us whiskey. “You feeling okay?” Devin asks. I hang my head and down my drink and Tommy pours me another. “No man I’m not. I feel lost.” I reply. “Dude go and get her. This feeling is not going to go away until she is back with you.” Devin tells me. “I can’t she doesn’t belong here with me,” I down another drink and get a refill.

Jason might be a vampire, ancient and powerful, but in this moment, I had him exactly where I wanted him. “We’re still in the shifters’ territory in Nevada,” he explained. “Since they’ve blocked every road, we’ll have to go on foot across their border to Utah, and then we’ll head north to Idaho.” Utah and Idaho were human territories. Big chasms of thousands of miles separated the western states from their eastern neighbors, like Colorado, Wyoming, and Montana. The states on the east side of the chasms were still run by the Federal, though a few states had declared their independence, and many more were going to join them. The Federal had never been so weak since the American Independence Da

It was different for every major land mass. Weres chose the east coast and southern areas. While wolves were furry, they still withstood the wicked humidity better than other species. Apparently the Appalachias were close to the wolves hearts, a lot of them descendants of the marginalized indigenous peoples of the Americas. Daemons predictably chose the desert and plains. Made up of subspecies like Ifrit and Djinn, they thrived in the heat of the desert. Fae had taken most of the midwest, though a few territories bordered the wild mountains of the west coast. They had transformed the area, what had once been sprawling cities was now wild woodlands.