Each family attended and sat upon the thick, uncomfortable wooden benches, and the good father read us our fill of brimstone and fire. The church had a tall, peeked roof of thatch, and a simple bell rang and summoned us to mass. The only residences of any great consequence were the large church, and the grand stone castle a half mile from the village and up the steep, grassy slope. The only break in the trees came from a spring that meandered down the mountain and cut through the thick forest on its way to the opposite end of the valley. Thick forests of ancient trees climbed the gentle slopes and abutted the fields. Even as I stood there I beheld the small figures of people as they swept across the fields to gather the food before the autumn rains and frost ruined the year's crop.īeyond the fields towered more tall mountains, and the opposite side of the valley still held its spots of wilderness. The mountains above us were rocky and barren but for a few patches of grass, but the fields below were thick with the promise of a good harvest of wheat. The village as a whole sat atop a large plateau over the green fields of the valley. A single road meandered between them, but there were countless paths to the outhouses, wells, and the far-flung fields of the hilly valley in which we all resided. There were dozens of similar cottages placed on terraces with a few larger ones nestled among them and along the road. A curl of gray smoke rose from the chimney and into the gray sky over the large village where I had been born and raised. A meager garden stood behind the stone walls, and there was a strong thatch roof atop its sturdy frame.

I stood and hurried down the steep hill to the small stone house at the edge of the village. The plants were a colorful sea of fragrance that wrapped around me and comforted me like a soft blanket. There were hundreds like it around me for I sat in the midst of a thick patch of heather. I sighed and set down on the ground the small flower that was in my hand.

'Muira? Muira, where are you?' I heard a voice call. My upbringing had taught me that such creatures should not suffer to live, and yet I loved him and lusted for him. Want to get an email when my next book is released? Join the Wolf Den and receive an email whenever a new book comes out! No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission in writing from the author. Highland Moon #1 (BBW Scottish Werewolf / Shifter Romance)

Mac flynn book series in order