Title: Howl Down the Moon
Series: Comet Lake Chronicles, Book 2
Author: Layla Dorine
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: 03/01/2022
Length: 96400
Genre: Paranormal, LGBTQIA+, shifters, bonded mates, doctor, hurt-comfort, anger management, resentments, handling grief
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Description
Luka knows he screwed up the night he tried to help Raine. He always gets things wrong—one of many reasons he steers clear of the rest of the pack. Besides, he doesn’t deserve the fellowship of other wolves, not with how badly he failed when it mattered most.
Rand has seen a great deal during his time as pack physician, both good and bad. Helping others is his life’s calling, so when a wolf shows up with bitemarks from an altercation with another wolf, he’s quick to treat, but when he learns the name of the wolf bleeding on his clinic floor, he’s quick to judge, too. Too bad he fails to take the time to learn the whole story.
Speaking of stories, there’s one Slade has refused to listen to for years—so much so, he’s relegated himself to the borderlands to avoid having anything to do with those who caused the tragedy that cost him his twin and the vengeance he knows will damn him for life if he carries it out.
A series of decisions, good and bad, brings the lives of these three wolves crashing together. In Comet Lake, that’s called fate. The spark of a chance. Now it’s up to them to put stubbornness aside, stop answering questions with questions, and pause in their self-loathing long enough to listen to one another, put their pasts behind them, and learn how to love.
The afternoons were growing as cold as the mornings and nights. Soon, it wouldn’t be safe to bathe outdoors, and he’d be forced to haul water in and heat it in front of the fire when he wanted to get clean. The water was brisk. Best to get it over with and submerge himself at once. Glancing down at his side, Luka checked one last time to be certain his wound was closed completely, his gaze happening upon the beginning swirls of a bond mark on his wrist.
It was nothing like he’d imagined it would be. He’d dreamed of hugs, hand-holding, and long walks through the forest like his parents used to share, teasing laughter, his mate’s hand stroking his hair. Instead, he’d been told, Get out, I don’t care, I don’t give a damn. It was the tone, more than anything, that had hurt the worst. Venomous fury, the rumble of an angry growl; Luka’s wolf had whined and wanted to roll over on his back, presenting his throat to the other wolf, even if it meant Doc would tear it out. He’d never felt an urge like that before.
And you won’t ever again, his inner voice hissed, drawing another whine from his wolf. Ducking his head beneath the water’s surface stopped the tears from spilling down his cheeks. He always got it wrong. No matter how hard he tried, it never turned out the way he imagined. That night in the forest, in those moments before he’d stupidly acted, he’d watched Raine clutching the tree, swaying, and expected to see someone at his side in an instant.
When that didn’t happen, he decided to sweep in, a whole scenario running through his head as he did. In it, Raine had wrapped his arms around Luka’s neck and allowed himself to be carried back to Comet Lake. They’d sit together along the bank, Raine curled against his chest as they watched the lanterns drift toward the sky, their tiny flames glowing in the darkness. Flames and stars were such a pretty combination when the fire wasn’t destroying things.
Standing, he smoothed the hair back from his eyes, rivulets of water streaming down his face. A hard gust of wind left him shivering, teeth clenched to keep them from chattering while he washed up.
“Lovely, it’ll be hours before the fish are out and biting again.”
The new voice was entirely unexpected and sounded nothing like the one in his head that mocked him all the time. Blinking, he rubbed the water from his eyes to see Doc standing on the bank, fishing gear and a picnic basket in his hands, glaring at him.
“Why come way out here to fish?” Luka mused, gazing around them. It was rare for anyone to venture this far away from town alone, even while hunting. The woods here were thicker, darker, and easier to get lost in. Luka knew these things firsthand; after all, he’d grown up out here and knew exactly what it took to survive on one’s own. Doc looked clean and soft, even in hip waders and a floppy fishing hat, two hooks in the brow.
“One of the joys of fishing is being able to escape to a peaceful place, alone, where one can hear themselves think,” Doc snapped, still scowling.
“How’d you even find this pond?”
“Doc Washington drew me a map, months ago. I never had the opportunity to use it until now.”
“He hasn’t been out here in a while,” Luka acknowledged, sad at the loss of one of the few members of the pack who had been a persistent presence in his life.
“He broke his hip last winter; it didn’t heal well, so he doesn’t venture too far out of town anymore,” Doc replied, even as he questioned why he bothered telling Luka that when he should already be turning around and stalking away.
“Could you tell him, when you see him next, that I said hello, and that the fish are biting again over by the old mill? We tried that spot for years and never caught anything.”
“Do I look like a messenger service to you?” Doc hissed.
Luka shook his head because he wasn’t sure what a messenger service was but didn’t want Doc to think he was stupid. While Luka was still trying to muster up the courage to ask if Doc had a bond mark, the older wolf turned and began to walk away.
“Wait!” Luka called out, leveraging himself halfway out of the water. “After you patched me up the other night, did you end up with one of these?”
Luka waved his wrist at Doc, hoping he’d take a moment to study it. Instead, Doc gave it a brief glance, wrinkled his nose, and turned his back again.
“I did,” Doc barked and resumed walking away.
“But…wait!” Luka called out. “It’s supposed to mean you’re my—”
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Layla Dorine lives among the sprawling prairies of Midwestern America, in a house with more cats than people. She loves hiking, fishing, swimming, martial arts, camping out, photography, cooking, and dabbling with several artistic mediums. In addition, she loves to travel and visit museums, historic, and haunted places.
Layla got hooked on writing as a child, starting with poetry and then branching out, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. Hard times, troubled times, the lives of her characters are never easy, but then what life is? The story is in the struggle, the journey, the triumphs and the falls. She writes about artists, musicians, loners, drifters, dreamers, hippies, bikers, truckers, hunters and all the other folks that she’s met and fallen in love with over the years. Sometimes she writes urban romance and sometimes its aliens crash landing near a roadside bar. When she isn’t writing, or wandering somewhere outdoors, she can often be found curled up with a good book and a kitty on her lap.
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