"Blood and Moon is a story between two packs. One master and the other slave. 

The two packs are forced to live at each other's mercy because of the witch wars that have scorched the world and covered their earth in death and ash, blocking most of the earth from the sun. Isolated on their land, Moons try to survive, living amid the Bloods, their betters. 

Desire Dawson is a Moon that had just graduated and planned on leaving when her stepfather signed her up to work at the Blood's packhouse without her consent so he could receive her wages. She was sent to work in a place where she was regarded as a lesser wolf. The wages were good, and her life would have been easy there if Adam Kingston, the son of the Blood's Alpha King and only heir, did not take interest in her. 

Unknown to the Bloods and Moons, Desire has inherited the potent magic of her mother's lineage, often bestowed on a special wolf. They would need this magic to survive the witch wars as it threatens to take over their territory and what they have salvaged. Adam and Desire are about to fight the odds of their lives to be together and survive. Their options aren't good either. None has promising endings, but with fate on their side, anything is possible."

Blood And Moon

　　When they told me the king had pardoned me, I was happy. The enforcers escorted me to my room, where aunty Margret was waiting for me with a stern look on her face, and I wondered why.


　　"Come, let me attend to your wounds," she said. She helped me bathe and dressed up my wounds. They were healing, but the pain was still there.


　　I felt Adam in my head, but I ignored him.


　　"You need to thank the goddess that he didn't die, Desiree. He was the one that got you out of that place," she said, and I began to sob.


　　"I didn't do it, aunty," I cried, and she held me close.


　　"I know little one. I know. Some people have started working against you, Desiree, and I know why?" she said and looked at me angrily.


　　"Why did you lie to me that you were not sleeping with Prince Adam?" she asked, and my eyes opened wide from surprise.


　　"I am not. I swear," I argued, and Aunt Margret shook her head.


CHAPTER 12 Forty-Five minutes of steam