Blood Moon

  Copyright © 2014 A.D. Ryan

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical terms, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by A.D. Ryan at Smashwords

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

  (Blood Moon Trilogy ; 01)

  ISBN 9781310370991

  Text and Cover design by Angela Schmuhl

  Cover Image: Shutterstock, © Serov

  Dedicated to all who believed.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Here is where I try to thank those who offered me nothing but their full support throughout this entire journey.

  First, and foremost, I’d like to thank my incredible husband for bearing with me through all of this. You’ve never once complained about what started as a hobby, and as I decided to publish, you’ve continued to cheer me on. You’re my rock, and I couldn’t have asked for a more incredible man to share my life with. I love you with all my heart.

  My children, who’ve always made reading fun, I want this to encourage you and be proof that you can achieve your dreams, no matter how unattainable they may seem at times. Aim higher and reach for those stars.

  To my mom for always encouraging me in anything I’ve ever done throughout my life. You’ve been such a source of inspiration—the pinnacle of strength that every young woman needs in her life. The sacrifices you’ve made have not gone unnoticed, nor has your unyielding faith in your children.

  Having shown me that losing yourself in a well-written book can be one of the best things a person can do, I thank my dad. With a book almost always in his hand, his love of reading became my own favorite pastime.

  Tiffany and Lynda, two of the most helpful and supportive women I’ve had the pleasure of meeting—even if not yet face-to-face. I don’t know if I’d ever be able to truly convey through words just how incredibly grateful I am to have you both accompany me on this journey. Believe me when I tell you just how much I appreciate all of your help over the years and how much I appreciate your willingness to point out each and every one of my grammatical flaws. Your constant critique has only strengthened my writing, and for that I will be eternally grateful. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you.

  Always willing to read my new story ideas, my baby sister has always been my biggest fan, always chomping at the bit for more—even when it isn’t quite ready to be read. The support she has offered me has been above and beyond, always pushing me to go bigger and better than before, and always taking that extra minute in her day to talk me down off the ledge of plot-twist suicide.

  My little-big brother, who’s played his role in all of this, also deserves a shout-out. Without my family behind me through this process, none of this would have been possible.

  And, finally, to my beta readers and the fans of my earlier work. Jennifer, whose first read-through offered me so much constructive critique with which to work off and improve the flow of the story. You helped me strengthen and fine-tune these characters before I offered them up to the rest of the world, and I thank you for it. Felicia, Nicole, Sandy, Tracy, and Becky, your love of this world I created has pushed me to complete the second in the series far sooner than I’d originally intended. The excitement you all had is what pushed me to put this out there even more than my own desires, and for that I thank you.

  You all made this happen. I won’t ever forget that.

  Cheers,

  Angela

  Prologue | origin

  A young man, newly twenty-one, sat in a crowded bar. His eyes searched the room as he drank from his bottle of beer when, suddenly, he felt a pair of piercing eyes on him. As he looked directly to his right, he spotted the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, afraid that if he did he might lose her in the crowd.

  Somewhere in his periphery, his sister was off dancing with her boyfriend, and while his father had given him express orders to keep a close eye on her, he knew she was in good hands. He knew she would be safe from the evil that had been plaguing their city for weeks.

  The entire city was on high alert due to the rising numbers of grisly murders, and while the police were doing everything they could, they had yet to break the case. The lack of evidence made finding a suspect difficult, but they refused to give up. With the promise to find the person responsible, the city worried a little less, and life went on as usual.

  The man locked eyes with the stunning blonde creature, and he found himself most taken by her. Captivated, even. He admired the way the short black dress hugged her glorious curves, and how the strapless neckline showed off her well-sculpted shoulders. As he openly gawked, he thought about how he had never seen such a beauty before… Except, he had seen her before. At that frat party he was just telling his sister about.

  The mysterious blonde exuded confidence with every step she took toward him, her ice blue eyes staring into his and a coy smile slowly spreading across her face. He watched, entranced, as she licked her ruby-red lips and made her way through the crowd toward him. Her long blonde hair swayed behind her as she walked forward with purpose, and he imagined wrapping it around his hand to pull her head back for a kiss. Suddenly nervous, he swallowed thickly as she approached. He recalled feeling this way when he first met her, too.

  “So, we meet again.” Her melodic voice floated on the air between them, and her cool breath washed over his skin, tempting him to act on his fantasy from only a moment ago. “Where did your friends go?” she asked, looking around, causing her luxurious blonde hair to sway in the breeze of her movement.

  It didn’t escape his notice that the way she held herself was almost regal, her posture perfect, and he could only assume she was a dancer by trade given her natural grace.

  “Oh, they went to go dance,” he informed her, glancing back toward his sister and waving when the smaller red-haired girl looked his way at the same time. With curious eyes, she regarded her brother’s unknown companion before turning her attention back to her boyfriend.

  Smiling, the blonde woman arched an eyebrow. “And you don’t dance?” she queried.

  The man laughed, knowing just how uncoordinated he was. “I try to refrain from anything that could make me look foolish in front of members of the opposite sex,” he told her honestly.

  His eyes wandered over her porcelain features, and he watched her lick her lips again. It surprised him just how taken he was by her. She was a stranger to him, yet he felt so comfortable in her presence, like there might be something more between them. Was it preposterous to think this way about a woman he just met? In most cases, yes, but something about her just felt right, and he needed to know more about her.

  “So, what made you decide to come out tonight?” the stranger inquired. “When I invited you and your friend over there”—she gave a nod toward the dance floor—”you said you weren’t so sure.”

  He found his voice and shrugged as he answered, “It’s my birthday.”

  “Really?” she purred, the vibration travelling
beneath his skin and settling in his groin. “Well isn’t that just…lovely.” She gave him a small smile as her fingers played with the large tear-shaped pendant that hung near the swell of her breasts. The color of it reminded him of blood.

  Realizing where his eyes were focused, he quickly snapped his attention back to her exquisite eyes and not how she delicately fidgeted with her necklace or how her fingers skimmed her skin, causing her flesh to pebble in their wake. Embarrassed, he swallowed thickly, causing her to laugh softly, like she found his ogling endearing. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  The smile that graced her lovely face was wide and showcased a set of perfect white teeth. “Well, I am quite thirsty.” She leaned in to whisper in his ear, her breath tickling his neck and sending a chill down his spine. “But I was thinking we could maybe get out of here. Go somewhere a little more private.”

  He was shocked—there was absolutely no doubt about it. Normally, he wasn’t the kind to be so impulsive, but when he looked into her dazzling blue eyes, he was no longer in control of his own body. Without a moment’s pause, he took her outstretched hand and let her lead him from the club.

  Outside, the temperature had gone from dry and arid to crisp and cool. She pulled him down the alley beside the club and pressed his body against the brick wall. Barely any light from the street lamps along the sidewalk reached them, but he had enough to see the excitement on her face. Her hands traveled wildly over his chest, and the speed of her breathing seemed to increase with her zeal.

  Something about her made his inhibitions disappear completely, and soon his hands came up and gripped her biceps firmly. His earlier desire came rushing back, and he wrapped her hair around his hand and tilted her head back, bringing his face down to kiss her neck. Her skin tasted like vanilla and sex as he moved down over her collarbone and toward her ample breasts. It intoxicated him, making his entire body hum with anticipation.

  Feeling energized and unlike himself, he turned and pressed her body against the hard brick wall, ready to hitch her leg around his hip and grind himself against her, but the woman wasn’t impressed by the loss of dominance. In an effort to reassert her control, she fisted his hair in one of her hands and lifted his head away from her, rolling them along the wall until he was, once again, pinned.

  Nervous, his eyes danced between hers. “I’ve never done this before,” he said before realizing how inexperienced this confession made him sound. He gave his head a quick shake as if to clear the fog that confused him and tried again. “I mean, I’ve done that before. I’ve just never been so…impulsive before.”

  The woman continued to smile at him. “Well, I promise to take it easy on you, then.” She leaned her head in slowly and pressed her lips to the hollow of his throat, her tongue darting out and tasting him. He expected the heat of her mouth against his flesh, but was instead met with the chill of what he could only assume was the biting wind of the approaching season change.

  As she licked and kissed his throat, he groaned softly, trying desperately to pull her body into his. “I don’t even know your name,” he panted, clutching her hips tightly, his growing arousal firm against her belly.

  He could feel her lips curl up against his throat before she lifted her gaze back to his. “Gianna,” she replied, a dangerous edge to her voice that didn’t register right away.

  The softness of her lips returning to his neck made his eyes roll back, and he reveled in the current that shot up and down his arms, making his fingers and toes curl. Then there was a sharp, piercing pain in his neck. It only lasted a second before adrenaline surged through him, causing mass amounts of pleasure to overwhelm him. His head felt light, like he was high, and then his knees gave out beneath him without warning, and everything went black.

  Chapter one | celebrate

  October twenty-sixth.

  It was a day I’d rather not remember, but, just the same, it came and went every single year. This year would be no different than the previous seven, because I would be forced to endure it, all while holding my head high and pretending as though everything was all right. The worst part of it all was the expectation for me to celebrate it. Every. Damn. Year.

  I guess my biggest problem was that everything was far from all right—it hadn’t been “all right” for quite some time, actually—and the last thing I wanted to do was celebrate anything. What I wanted to do was stay hidden from the world and remain under my blankets until the clock beside me, flashing its bright red numbers, struck midnight and signaled the end of this day for another year.

  As the early morning sunshine started to stream into the room from the window above my bed, lighting everything with its shiny, happy glow, I pulled the blanket up over my head in an effort to stay in the dark for just a little bit longer. I didn’t want to see the colorful artwork that adorned my walls, the dark ebony dresser and vanity that sat along the far wall, or the deep purple bench that was at the foot of my bed. It was all too bright and cheery, and I just wasn’t interested in feeling anything but glum.

  Escaping from the world was a futile attempt, though, as the phone rang, the shrill sound echoing through my house. “Ugh! Leave me alone!” I shouted, my voice muffled slightly by the blanket that still covered my face.

  When the phone went silent, I momentarily assumed that the caller might have actually sensed my ire at their early morning disruption. It wasn’t until I heard a soft and familiar voice in my kitchen that I knew the true reason the noise had ceased.

  “Hello?” my mother’s voice said into the phone, or at least that was what I assumed. It was possible that she was calling out for me as well. There was really only one way to be certain, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to meet the day head-on just yet. Unfortunately, I knew I didn’t have very long before they both came looking for me. Being that this was his baby girl’s “big day,” it was safe to assume that my dad was with her as well.

  Of course they’re here, I thought to myself as I threw my blanket to the end of my bed. Turning onto my left side, I used my arms to sit up, giving myself a moment before I placed my bare feet on the cold hardwood floor of my bedroom.

  “Brooke, honey?” my father’s smooth, deep voice called out through my small house, echoing off the walls of my narrow hallway.

  Staring at my manicured toes, I sighed deeply before responding. “I’m just getting up. I’ll be right out.” The pads of my feet met the chilled floorboards as I stood and stretched my body tall—well, as tall as someone who was five foot five could stretch.

  I struggled to find the will to begin my day even more now that I was actually out of bed. Especially since my rising truly meant that I would have to face the fact that it really was my birthday. Most people welcomed their birthdays, but, to me, it was the worst possible day of every year, and not something I wished to remember, let alone celebrate.

  As I made my way for the bedroom door, I could already hear the banging of pots and pans in my kitchen, thus signaling that Mom was preparing my breakfast. Breakfast with my parents wasn’t always a birthday tradition. Only in the last couple of years had they started coming over first thing in the morning so we could eat a large breakfast together. To “keep my strength up,” as my father would say.

  I laughed darkly to myself. How I wished that bacon and eggs could give me the strength I truly needed to deal with today…

  Not ready to face my parents, I walked the short distance from my room to the washroom. “I’m just going to have a quick shower,” I announced monotonously as I walked in and closed the door behind me.

  Leaning into the shower stall, I turned on the water before flipping the switch for the showerhead. Once satisfied with the water temperature, I stood upright and pulled the glass door closed before moving to the porcelain sink to brush my teeth. The room started to fill with a blanket of fog, which seemed only fitting given my somber mood.

  My soft facial features seemed a little worse for wear, the bags under my deep green eyes the visual reminder of th
e late night celebration with my co-workers the night before. The pounding in my head, the physical. I pulled the elastic band out of my long red hair and allowed it to cascade loosely down my back as I ran my brush through it a few times to get rid of any knots that had accumulated from tossing and turning in my sleep. Again.

  After removing my T-shirt and shorts, I tossed them into the hamper next to the door and stepped beneath the near-scalding spray of water. I pushed my face beneath the water in an attempt to wash away the final remnants of sleep and the nightmare that plagued me year after year.

  Flashes of the sky that night, the stars dull behind the blanket of smog that hovered over the city, and the red-hued moon filled my head. Even though it had been seven years, I could still remember every smell and sound that surrounded us while we waited to be let inside that exclusive nightclub.

  When my lungs started to burn from a lack of oxygen, I opened my mouth to allow myself to breathe while I continued to push the memories aside. Water trickled in, so I expelled it and clenched my eyes shut. Sadly, the memory of that night continued to assault me more forcefully, and my heart raced with panic as I relived it all again.

  Losing sight of him. Finding a way outside through a side exit when I was unable to get through the sea of people at the front doors. Searching frantically, only to find…

  I fought the urge to wretch, coughing and sputtering on the water I inhaled accidentally. I took several deep breaths, letting the water course down my entire body, the heat permeating every cell and cleansing me inside and out as I leaned forward. Letting it soothe me, I rested my head against the light brown ceramic tile wall. I remained like this for a minute, allowing the hot water and the cool tile to send conflicting sensations through me.