Read Shadow on the Moon Online
Authors: Connie Flynn
Shadow on the Moon
| Shadow on the Moon |
| Connie Flynn |
| CKF Enterprises (2011) |
A woman bent on saving a pack of wild wolves crashes during a deadly snowstorm.
A man tormented by a secret he dare not reveal desperately needs her to free him.
Only a ceremony grounded in love can save them both . . . and it all happens under the SHADOW OF THE MOON.
From the Author
I've had a love affair with werewolves ever since I saw Lon Chaney play the Wolfman way back in the last century. I was, oh, about minus 10 years old at the time, but that's another subject, which I was old enough to understand it. This poor man, through no fault of his own, was the victim of a terrible curse that once a month turned him into someone he didn't recognize. He hated what he was and could do nothing about it. On my side, he scared me senseless but also made me sympathetic and I used to hope beyond hope that someone would save him.
So, when publishers started actively seeking the darker paranormal, Lon and his breed, shapeshifters, came to mind, and Morgan Wilder came to life. All he needed was someone to save him. That person was Dana Gibbs, a wolf biologist who herself was practically raised by wolves. She alone understands him. Though she hasn't a clue about the dark world he inhabits, she finds the courage to enter it and help him escape forever.
I hope you enjoy their story and if in reading it you wonder if you'd heard that wolves have been introduced into the Arizona mountains, you would be right. This book was written just as that program was being launched.
What Readers Say
Real suspense . . . Crisp and fast paced . . . Not for the
faint of heart . . . Assault the senses . . . lush , earthy images . . .
Top-notch characters and support cast . . . Riveting. Great read!
. . . the first book in a long time that I read straight
through to the very last sentence.
Thank
you for a great read Connie Flynn!!!
Romance Readers
Choice Award Finalist
Romance Golden
Quill Award Finalist
What Reviewers Say
. . .
readers
of Stephen King and
Dean Koontz will be drawn to the superb Shadow on the Moon–and they won’t be
disappointed . . .
. . . a solid story showing how true love and overcome even
the worst maladies which can afflict us. . . .
. . . what truly makes Shadow on the Moon worth several
silver bullets is the ultimate sacrifice the characters must risk to
potentially have a relationship . . .
. . . It is revitalizing to read an author who is willing to
take a chance and has the talent to make that chance pay off . . .
Shadow on the Moon
By Connie Flynn
ORIGINALLY
PUBLISHED BY
The
Penguin Group
Copyright
©1997
Shadow
on the Moon
Copyright © 1997, 2010
by
Constance K. Flynn
All rights reserved. No part of
this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or
mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information
storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except
in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All of
the characters, names, incidents, organizations and dialogue in this novel are
either the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously
To Mike, Roxanne,
Bryan,
Brandon and Brittany.
This
one's for you.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Prologue
Yeafanay cawfanay naylanay may.
Yeafanay cawfanay naylanay may.
Twisted roots clung to the rocky,
wind-tortured soil, producing gnarled trunks and starved branches that
struggled to sustain their sparse leaves. Equally malnourished bushes fought
the trees for the meager nutrients the ground provided, and the round, silver
moon bathed everything in pale, ghostly light.
Morgan stood in the center of the
barren clearing, watching his companion with a degree of professional
detachment. She was swaying to and fro, solemnly chanting gibberish and
scratching a large circle on the crusty earth around him with a tree branch.
Very Gothic, Morgan thought,
grinning. Lily has outdone herself this time.
"A man-wolf shall be born this
day," Lily sang, completing the ring and discarding the stick with a
flourish. With equal drama, she slipped off her simple woolen coat, revealing a
gown so obviously staged for the occasion that Morgan's grin erupted into
laughter.
"Don't treat this lightly, Dr.
Morgan Wilder," she said, regarding him sternly with her dark eyes.
"Put your coat back on, Lily.
You're risking hypothermia." A chuckle still rumbled in his throat.
Then, as if to prove his point, the
frosty wind picked up. He drew his coat close to his chest. "It's freezing
up here."
"I am not cold." Twirling
slowly, she gave a toss of her long white hair. Her black gauzy robe lifted,
spun around her shoeless feet. "Indeed, my blood runs hot. My wolf spirit
is strong."
With another twirl, she lifted her
arms, reaching for the moon. "As is the way of the wolf, my darling
Morgan, tonight you become my lifetime mate and soar above mortal concerns.
Strong, fleet of foot, invincible. The forest and the alleys will be ours.
We'll share everything. Our bed, our rank, our offspring . . ." She
stopped, held him firm in her dark gaze. "The blood we spill."
Morgan's chuckle died on the wind.
Not that she hadn't always been unorthodox, but tonight she almost acted . . .
possessed.
"Don't tell me we're going to
do that old blood brother ceremony," Morgan said cynically. He was cold
and hungry and getting angry. "I'm disappointed, Lily. I thought you were
going to dispel my skepticism about these night creatures. Do you think dragging
me to these ugly mountains and dancing around in your dressing gown will do
that? I have to say, this is rather kooky, even for you."
"There are forces at work in
this world you do not understand."
For the space of an insane
heartbeat, he almost believed. Of course, the tortured, barren plateau
practically personified evil. And the dark wind whipping malevolently around
his ears seemed to whisper Lily's truths.
But grotesque settings don't a
werewolf make.
Just as Morgan was congratulating
himself on so skillfully handling his anxiety, a chorus of howls rose from the
treetops of the black forest below, held as one long note, then wobbled and
died. Another chorus immediately followed.
And another.
"Did you hear that, Lily? Come
on, we're getting out of here." He flew out of the circle, intent on
returning to the little car they'd rented in Paris, which was now parked more
than half a mile away.
"Morgan! No!" Lily rushed
forward and shoved him toward the ring. Morgan grabbed her hands, stumbled
backwards. When they hit the circle's perimeter, Lily jerked away as if she'd
hit a force field.
With a long, purposeful step,
Morgan breached the circle again, then gripped Lily's arm. "Get your
coat," he ordered. Don't argue."
"It's too late. . . . The
forces . . ." Lily peered over her shoulder. Morgan followed her gaze.
"Dear God!" he bellowed.
Eyes, glowing darkly red. Enormous
heads. Massive, dangerous jaws, parted to reveal gleaming fangs.
One by one, they filed into the
clearing. With a gasp, Lily pushed Morgan back in the ring.
"What are you—" Morgan
sputtered. "Are you crazy? Run, Lily. Now! Those wolves will tear us
apart."
But she was deaf to his voice.
Throwing back her head, she lifted her arms to the moon. The air whipped her
flimsy robe and snowy tresses, swirling them around her in a frenzy.
Morgan's blood froze as he saw the
pack of wolves part and circle in opposite directions around the ring. Seven of
them, he noted through the haze of fear in his mind, and they blocked all hope
of escape. They surrounded the circle, sat down, and stared at Lily, obviously
waiting.
But for what?
"Yeafanay . . . cawfanay . . .
naylanay . . . may," crooned Lily.
Why hadn't the wolves attacked her?
he wondered, then forgot the question as knees grew weak and began to throb.
"Yeafanay, cawfanay naylanay'
may.”
Lily paused. Each wolf raised its
head and a great unified howl lifted up, echoing off the rocks, filling the
sky. As the last echo faded into the black night, Lily again began to chant.
"Lady moon in her great fullness
squares dark Pluto now.
Yet fickle lady waits for none and
soon moves on.
Oh, Phantoms of the Dark Beneath
rise up and heed my cry."
Pain shimmied through Morgan's
body, piercing, unbearable pain. His legs buckled. Staggering backwards, he
cried out and crumpled to his knees. Through all this, Lily continued her
litany.
"Bring fang and claw and
strength
beyond what mortals know.
Bestow these gifts upon your
servant now, that he may roam the earth
as wolf and man, as man and wolf
Forevermore."
With each word, Morgan's agony grew
more intense. His legs and arms burned with the fires of hell and he clawed at
them, wanting to pull them out as he would some grievous tooth. His jaw shifted
and needles pierced every inch of his skin. A thousand knives jabbed at his
head.
"Rush, Great Phantom, rush,
yeah, rush.
Race, Great Phantom, race, yeah,
race.
The Lady rolls on, time grows
short."
Lily's voice rose with the wailing
wind that beat at Morgan's agonized body like a razor-sharp whip.
"Heed us now. Heed us now.
Time grows short. Heed us now.
"
Barely aware of the cruel rocks
slicing his burning skin, Morgan writhed on the hard ground, battling the
misery of his own flesh. His mind filled with jumbled, crazy questions. How had
Lily's fingernails grown so long? Or her teeth so sharp and shiny?
"Lily," he cried from the
depths of his pain, but only a grunt emerged.
"Yeafanay cawfanay naylanay
may.
Yeafanay cawfanay naylanay may.
A man-wolf is born this
day!"
Morgan heard nothing more. Lost in
a whirlwind of agony, he thrashed inside the ring. Anguished sounds exploded in
his throat. Torment was his whole world now. He was lost in it.
Dying. There was no other
explanation. He was dying. And because it hurt too much, he closed his eyes in
futility and rolled into a ball, adrift in his own wretched whimpers.
Time passed. He sensed movement
around him, but refused to open his eyes. Why were they tormenting him? Why
didn't they kill him now? Eyes still closed, he lifted his head awkwardly. It
felt heavy and stiff, but the thousand knives were gone. He brought a hand to
his brow, felt fur. A peculiar yelp escaped his mouth.