Blood Moon

By Linny Lawless and Rowan St. George

BLOOD MOON

Samuel

I'm the ancient werewolf that leads the Lunatics MC and they call me Zeus. We rule our territories in New Orleans and along the bayous of Louisiana. My pack and my club are everything. I ride hard and I never live in the past. But some memories are hard to forget and the woman I lost still lingers in the back of my mind. When I meet Heather, I'm captivated by her beauty. Overcome with hungry desire, my primal instinct kicks in. I must possess and claim her for my own. Fate has other plans though. She's powerful and deadly. And worse, Heather is the sworn enemy of my kind.

Heather

Bad relationships seem to dominate my past. I've just found freedom and the last thing I need is another man in my life. When I stumble into the Lunatics MC clubhouse and meet Zeus, I'm surrounded by his dangerous and supernatural energy. His pull on me is strong. I can't deny the explosive attraction between us. The menacing biker has many secrets, and he wears them like battle scars. Weird things are beginning to happen. Will I survive the mystic force and danger that surrounds us with my sanity intact?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linny Lawless
• Release date: Nov 17, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223212096

Linny Lawless

About Linny Lawless Linny grew up in Northern Virginia, right outside Washington DC, and has a professional career in sales operations for over 20 years. She’s also spent 13 years riding with her husband on the back of a Harley! Linny loves the feeling of freedom, wildness, and rebellion that comes with it. The biker community can be tribal and primal at times.  Linny has also been a huge book worm since she was a young teen. She reads different  genres of books, but the one Linny loves the most is Romance!  She self-published her debut novel, “Salvation in Chaos” in January of 2018. Her stories are about scruffy, sexy alpha bikers who belong to a tribe, their club, and the women they fall in love with.  They live in a world full of chaos, not unlike reality. But within that chaotic world, they live their lives the best way they can and discover true love.

Book preview

PART 1

New Orleans, Louisiana

May 1862

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Chapter 1

Samuel

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I was a Union soldier, fighting against the treasonous Confederacy and the soldiers in gray. I was shot in the gut by another soldier—betrayed by a man who wore the same blue uniform as mine.

The bullet wound was festering, and my uniform was soaked in blood. My body jerked and shuddered with agonizing and unbearable pain. I was among the dead, no longer a living and breathing man. So why did I still feel so much pain?

I was so very thirsty. I tasted dirt and blood. My canteen was empty.

I wandered deliriously into the thick forest in the pitch blackness of night. Sounds of creatures—wolves—howling. I left a trail of my blood and the wolves would hunt me down and tear my flesh apart.

I placed my hand over the pocket of my uniform and felt the round object. I was too weak to pull it out, but I knew the pocket watch was there. It originally belonged to my grandfather, and then my father, and he passed it on to me before I left for Virginia to fight the war. It never stopped ticking. It was as if it had a life of its own.

Heavy downpours of rain soaked through my clothes and my boots. I was so cold, hungry and thirsty, and in pain from the festering wound.

There was no presence of time. I was lost. Destination: nowhere. I was drowning in a black abyss.

When I opened my eyes, the sun was blazing bright and a girl with long brown hair was staring down at me. I could see nothing but a silhouette, her face shadowed from the sun above her.

Water, I whispered, my mouth was parched.

The sun was bright, making my head throb. I squeezed my eyes shut again.

I couldn’t feel my legs.

I felt my body as it was being dragged over grass, leaves, and mud.

The girl was humming a musical tune, her voice high. I open my eyes to finally see her face. She looked like a child. Eyes like a doe, high cheekbones and lovely lips. She was an angel ready to take me to the gates of Heaven. She stopped humming and tilted her head, looking down at me.

I was lying in a muddy hole. The girl was kneeling, pushing dirt and leaves over me. She was burying me, but I was still breathing!

I couldn’t feel my legs, but I moved my arms, reaching up for her.

Please don’t bury me. I’m still alive, I whispered, wincing in pain.

I’m releasing the poisoned spirit from your body. The pain will end soon, blue-eyed warrior.

She crouched, grabbing handfuls of dirt and tossing it over my body.

Was this how I would die? Buried alive in an unmarked grave?

I was only nineteen years old.

I thought of my family—my mother, my father, my little sister and brother.

The girl began to chant, speaking words I could not understand.

Flashes of light. The loud roar of thunder. The taste of dirt and blood.

I was dead. My spirit was floating above my body. I soared up to the skies and into the clouds. Then I was falling, crashing back down on earth. I screamed at the blinding pain of the bullet wound. Maggots ate away at my gut. I sobbed and gasped for air.

I saw my mother. She wore the pretty bonnet she always wore to church for Sunday Mass. Her soft hands in white lace gloves. She was crying, mourning the loss of her son who went to war. My little sister and brother were standing beside her. My father stood still beside my mother. He did not shed tears, but I saw the pain of loss in his eyes.

But I was not dead!

Chapter 2

Abigail

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The rain poured down during the night, so I set out mid-morning to collect some herbs and plants for my potions. My basket was starting to fill when I noticed a red smear on an old oak tree, not far from the creek. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was a handprint. I stopped and looked around the expanse of forest. The trees stood tall with a patchwork of moss and green ferns scattered the ground. There was a shade of dark blue sticking out about one hundred feet from me.

I stepped closer to see a man unconscious with blood that soaked through his shirt and much of his blue coat. I knelt down beside him to feel his neck for a pulse. After a long moment, I felt the barest hint of life. It was clear this man—boy, really—was very close to death. His breathing was shallow with a faint rasp in his throat—the unmistakable sound of the death rattle. I put my basket aside and squatted, bending my knees and getting a good grip under his arms. I whispered an incantation for strength and was able to drag the large uniformed boy to the nearby clearing, a bit farther down the creek. The area was sunk in and made the perfect indentation. I began chanting the renewal spell as I covered his wound with thick moss and used the mud around him to submerge his body into the Earth. While I was in the middle of my task, he opened his eyes in alarm, begging me not to bury him in a raspy whisper. The boy had the most bewitching blue eyes despite being riddled with pain. It reminded me of the blue sky after days of overcast gray.

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After the half-moon illuminated the night sky and the sun rose the next day, I went to the creek bed with some supplies so I could dig the soldier out of the muck and clean and add my homemade Cajun Hibiscus salve to help his wounds seal with minimal scarring. The renewal spell saved his life, but he still had to get his strength back after losing so much blood.

I uncovered his head first and moved to clear debris from around his shoulders and arms. Before continuing onto his waist and legs, I lifted his shirt to apply the ointment, when he gasped, sitting upright in panic.

I grabbed his hand and whispered a calming mantra. The soldier stared at me wild eyed, breathing heavily, as if he feared he wouldn’t get enough air.

Calm down, blue-eyed warrior. You’re safe now.

Where am I? Who are you?

I’ll tell you all you want to know when we get back to my cottage. My name is Abigail, I said, smiling at him.

First Lieutenant Samuel Fletcher… Samuel. he replied, squinting his eyes and slowly looking down at his half-submerged body.

He was about to panic, so I touched his face with both my hands as I calmly said, You’re okay, Samuel. You were shot, and the Earth has healed you. I am going to get you out of this mud and get you comfortable. You’re not done healing.

We’re in danger. There was a battle. I was shot by a man in my own regiment, he told me, his voice raspy.

Shh, Samuel, I promise you no one is around for miles and miles. You are quite safe.

Samuel’s blue eyes were full of fear and skepticism. He shifted his legs underneath the mud as he became more agitated, disturbing the healing earth. His boots emerged and I began scooping the mud away so he could free himself. I wanted him to stay calm and not feel trapped.

Do you think you can walk if I help support your weight? I asked

Samuel closed his eyes and groaned. I still hurt, but I’ll try.

After I cleared the mud away from him, I reached behind his neck to move his shoulder. I took his cold, clammy hand in mine and hoisted him up into a sitting position. Samuel groaned and exhaled a heavy breath. I paused, allowing him time to regain his composure. I needed to get him back to my cottage so I