Book Title: Night of the Blood Red Moon
Publishing Inc (self-published)
Cover Artist: Alexandria
Release Date: February 25,
Genre: Contemporary MM paranormal (werewolf)
Tropes: Fated mates, Old-fashioned britches ripper
Themes: Forced marriage
Heat Rating: 3 – 4
Length: 67 500 words/ 350
It is a standalone story, but as
the series develops, an underlying, multiple-story arc will emerge.
The book does not end on a
Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited
An old-fashioned britches
ripper with a tooth and claw twist.
An old-fashioned britches ripper with a tooth and claw twist.
Being the prince of all werewolves sucks.
Almost ten years ago, I did my duty and married a female
even though I was desperately in love with an older man. When she died giving birth to a
child who could never take the throne, I ran. I left home, shirking my responsibilities,
knowing eventually they’d catch up to me. Well, they have. My father now insists I marry a
female half my age so I can father a proper heir and secure our rule over the
First House for several more generations.
Being chosen to serve the king is a dream come true.
Even though I grew up poor, I worked hard to support my
mother. When my mentor chose me to travel to America with the king, I
was unbelievably honored to meet his son, the future ruler of all werewolves. I didn’t know
how to react when I first laid eyes on Prince Caster, but he cast a spell over me with a single
glance, and my life changed forever. I was not only looking at my future king, but the man
made just for me. The moment his lips met mine, I knew this story would end horribly…in
either heartache or death.
Denying destiny is a terrible idea.
As desperately as I want to ignore my attraction to the
common brown wolf, I cannot. The moment I saw the warm glow of his amber eyes, the
need to take him into my arms and drag him off to my bed was overwhelming. Alas, I have a
duty to perform, and it doesn’t involve the man Mother Nature made only for me.
This story won’t end well…I just know it.
Night of the Blood Red Moon is a gay romance with an HEA
I was a complete and utter fool. The moment Lady Penelope stepped out of her limousine
wearing three-thousand-dollar shoes, carrying a matching purse, I knew my mating with
Prince Caster was doomed. She looked breathtaking standing beside the car with her
mother at her side. She looked up at the prince who stood beside his father on the porch
watching as her father walked down the steps to greet his wife and daughter. The smile
which spread across her luscious cherry-red lips made her whole face light up. She
I’d never seen a more beautiful creature in my life.
The diamonds around her neck, around her wrists, and on her fingers were no match for the
sparkle in her bright blue eyes. They were framed with black lashes, a much darker shade
than the light blonde of her hair which was twined in a ribboned braid and piled on top of
her head. When she smiled at her father who bent to kiss her rosy cheeks, the whole world
seemed to light up. Much worse than all of this were the thoughts that I heard in her head.
“In person, he’s so much more handsome than the portrait he sent. Oh…look at him. My
mate is the most regal and kind man on earth. How could I be so lucky to have been blessed
by such a wonderful soul. I hope he loves me. I already love him.”
Her unspoken words made the tatters of my heart sink. She wasn’t horrible at all. She was a
lovestruck girl, and I’d never felt so lost in my entire life.
“Emory, get control of your thoughts. If I can hear them, others will. You’re slipping,” Claudio
whispered beside me. We stood on the semi-circular driveway in front of the inn with most
of the other servants who were ordered to stop whatever they were doing to come and
witness the arrival of the future queen of werewolves. I glanced over at him, noting how
handsome my best friend looked, standing up straight and tall with everyone else.
All in all, there had to be fifty servants standing at attention on either side of the crescent
driveway. We looked good, well-groomed, and dressed in our best uniforms of black pants,
long-sleeved white shirts, and black vests. Some of the senior staff wore suit coats. Claudio
and I didn’t. It wasn’t required. The females wore their hair pulled up and the males’ shoes
were all buffed to a high polish.
“You’re right. Sorry.” I nodded to my best friend, and then turned back, knowing by the
frown on Claudio’s face, how miserable my expression had to be as we watched this farce
playing out on the driveway. Only hours before, I’d woken in my lover’s arms, and he was
now leaning down to take Lady Penelope’s delicate hands in his and buss both of her
cheeks. I felt a sob rising in my throat and choked it back, relieved when Claudio’s hand
slipped into mine and squeezed my fingers.
Tears burned behind my eyes as I watched Caster straighten and smile at Penelope before
offering her his elbow. She blushed prettily and took the offered elbow with both small
hands. As he waited for her to turn, he lifted his head and stared right past her much shorter
form. When his ice blue gaze met mine, I felt a pang of longing run through me. As our gazes
met, I thought I recognized a similar look in his eyes but just as quickly as it had appeared, it
was gone, replaced with the dark glare he now wore. I trembled in Claudio’s hold, and he
crushed my fingers in his hand just as Caster dragged his gaze from mine and turned away,
leading his bride into the house.
“Breathe, Emory. It’s over,” Claudio whispered.
I gasped, suddenly feeling so lightheaded, I thought for sure I’d faint. I looked over at him
and recognized the pitying expression he wore on his face. I nodded.
“I’m fine. I’m…good.” My lower lip trembled, and my eyes filled with tears, belying my
About the Author
author Patricia Logan, resides in Los Angeles, California. The author of several #1 bestselling
romances in English, Italian, French, and Spanish lives in a small house with a large family.
When she’s not writing her next thriller romance, she’s watching her grandchildren grow up
way too soon, and raising kids who make her proud every day. One of her favorite tasks is
coaxing nose kisses from cats who insist on flopping on her keyboard while she types.
Married to a wonderful man for 35 years, she counts herself lucky to be surrounded by
people who love her and give her stories to tell every day.
Pick up your favorite Patricia
Logan Book from Amazon
Check out her Audio titles at
Email her at firstname.lastname@example.org. She loves to hear from readers more than anything and will
respond to all emails.
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