Curse of the Moon (paperback)












ISBN Digital: 9781509207602
ISBN Print: 9781509207596
Page Count: 182
Word Count: 41445
Rating: Sweet
MSRP: 12.99

The Secret Warrior Series



The bad news?  Morgan Daniel’s wolf is out of control.  The good news?  There’s a treatment.  She just has to get a potion from a lizard shifter witch--without looking into the witch’s eyes.  Easy, right? But when the witch puts a spell on her younger brother, Morgan has to do the witch's bidding to save him.

Fortunately Morgan isn’t alone.  She has Jackson to lean on, a few witches coming into their powers, a secret warlock, and the always mysterious Chief Okema. What could possibly go wrong?
 

Excerpt:

“How about any other newly turned werewolf?” She’d settle for one kindred spirit.

His brow creased and his lips pursed pityingly. “None I know of. Sorry.”

Hang it all! She didn’t want pity, just the closest thing to normalcy a werewolf could expect. “Holy moly. I’m on my own freakin’ planet.”

“Maybe you’re an Allasomorph,” Jimmy suggested. “They have their own planet and several moons.”

“Great. Because I’m not weird enough?”

A scraping noise and the kitchen door opened, letting in the autumn chill and Jackson’s highly unusual grandmother. Miriam held a basket of eggs gathered from the red and bronze chickens in the sturdy coop out back. Her slender figure was wrapped in a gray wool shawl, her lined face rosy beneath the matching scarf knotted at her throat. Her long silver hair and blue, beaded skirts whipped in the wind.

She shut the heavy door and glanced at the assembly around the table. Brown eyes, the dark hue of Jackson’s, rested on Morgan. Her gaze widened, then narrowed in an expression of somber awareness. “Oh my.”

If anyone apart from the unfathomable Chief Okema possessed the knowledge to aid her, it was this gentle healer. Wisdom flowed through Miriam’s veins like clear mountain water. Not only was she Jackson’s grandmother, but a descendent of the Star People, a mysterious race of space aliens Okema prophesied would someday return. What that meant for Miriam, and ultimately Jackson, Morgan didn’t know. Only that without help from this wise woman, or someone, she was doomed to a whole other world of weird.

Zeroing in on Morgan, she set the basket on the sideboard laden with dishes of cornbread, bacon, and scrambled eggs. “How long has this been going on?”

“For several days,” Morgan confessed, “but it’s worsening.”

“Yes. It would.”

The gravity in the older woman’s manner intensified the apprehension mounting in Morgan. “Why?”

“You have something few have ever heard of called Wandering Wolf. In Shawnee, it’s Pab’amose M’wewa. In Latin, Vagantem Lupus.”

Morgan could hardly believe what Miriam was saying. “Sounds like a disease.”

“Not an illness, a condition. A potentially serious one, known from ancient times.”

Sobering realization sank in. “Explains the Latin.”

Miriam nodded. “The condition dates back to early Rome. Founded, according to legend, by twin boys left to die who were rescued by a she-wolf.”

“Right. Romulus and Remus.” This much Morgan recalled from school. An unsettling thought occurred; that wolf might have been human, once.




Copyright © 2017 The Wild Rose Press, Inc.