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    Silver Moon (Moon Trilogy Part III): Moon Trilogy, #3
    Silver Moon (Moon Trilogy Part III): Moon Trilogy, #3
    Silver Moon (Moon Trilogy Part III): Moon Trilogy, #3
    Ebook76 pages1 hour

    Silver Moon (Moon Trilogy Part III): Moon Trilogy, #3

    By C.L. Bevill

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    About this ebook

    Jack Drake must discover what the secretive third part of the moon relic is and destroy it before it can be used to decimate the world. The mysterious Asta is hot on Jack's tail, eager to gain his trust and find the Silver Moon's Mystery. Together the pair must endure a trial of fire, dragons, and werewolves. Part III. Warning:sexual content. Not for minors. A novella.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherC.L. Bevill
    Release dateJan 1, 2011
    ISBN9781458082114
    Silver Moon (Moon Trilogy Part III): Moon Trilogy, #3
    Author

    C.L. Bevill

    C.L. Bevill is the author of several books including Bubba and the Dead Woman, Bubba and the 12 Deadly Days of Christmas, Bubba and the Missing Woman, Bayou Moon, The Flight of the Scarlet Tanager, Veiled Eyes, Disembodied Bones, and Shadow People. She is currently at work on her latest literary masterpiece.

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      Book preview

      Silver Moon (Moon Trilogy Part III) - C.L. Bevill

      Silver Moon

      By

      C.L. Bevill

      Silver Moon

      Published by C.L. Bevill at Smashwords

      Copyright 2010 by Caren L. Bevill

      Note to the readers: This is the third part of a trilogy. If you’re reading this one first, go back and download Black Moon and then Amber Moon. It’ll make a lot more sense. Enjoy.

      Chapter One

      When Jack Drake woke up he noticed two things. The first was that he was warm and somewhat warmer than he should have been, especially one of his legs. However, he wasn’t in a relationship at the moment and no one had been sharing his king sized bed recently. He didn’t have a dog that was prone to sneaking up onto the bed. And since he lived in Texas, with October being a mild month, he certainly hadn’t needed an electric blanket.

      Half asleep, he wasn’t particularly concerned. As an agent for the elusive Committee, he didn’t imagine that the many individuals of different species that were his enemies were going to cuddle him before assassinating him for the sheer hell of it. Furthermore, his Texas home was known only to a select few people, and none of them would share it with the wrong people or, as he sometimes called them, critters.

      If he opened his eyes he would see the dull light from a cloudy fall day spilling in half-open shuttered windows. The Texas ranch house was open and spread out. The master bedroom was bigger than some of his fellow agents’ apartments. The hardwood floor was dusty from his two month long absence. Consequently, he was sprawled face down on the bed with half the blanket on top of his legs and buttocks’, not feeling like something was truly wrong.

      Certainly alarms weren’t going off and he knew every squeak in the house.

      So what about that second thing? Well, fuck if it didn’t sound like something close by was running a tiny little engine. Is that my ‘Droid? No, he’d turned it off and put it in the cab of his truck outside so it wouldn’t tempt him to see what was happening with the Committee. In the two months that the two relics had been lost in a cursed twilight realm, Jack had made zero progress in locating the items. Neither had the elves or any of the other Committee agents on the job.

      Exhausted, Jack had taken a break. The two moon relics, the Book of the Black Moon, and the Eyes of the Amber Moon, hadn’t been found, and neither had the individual who had taken them. Most importantly there also hadn’t been a hint about the enigmatic third relic. The prophecy was clear; all three items were needed for world obliteration. The Silver Moon’s Mystery was still very mysterious and its whereabouts, much less its shape, was unknown.

      Jack was forthright on that track. No third item, i.e., no earthly annihilation. Whoo hoo. Sounded like a positive to him. If the Committee’s best historians, librarians, and experts couldn’t figure out where or what the Silver Moon’s Mystery was, then neither could the bad guys.

      Sounded win-win to Jack. But on the safe side it was all about tracking down the shifter who had worked with the Lady Amycate Sumrah and the other elvish subversives. Jack’s former partner, Mirie, had seen a glimpse of the individual and determined he was some sort of shifter who could use his own spells to open a portal. But nothing else.

      Her description was fleeting. Mirie hadn’t seen much of him. White, American accented male in his forties or fifties. Fast. Gray brown hair. Shifter’s eyes. Not that Jack could see those. He didn’t have the powers that Mirie had, nor had he known about Mirie’s powers until two months previously. Mirie had kept her secrets close to her chest, thinking that Jack might hold her heritage against her. That was true. Jack held a grudge against otherworlders. His entire family had been slaughtered by an otherworlder. Jack remembered. Every last little bloody bit.

      But Jack was also learning quickly that some otherworlders weren’t so bad. Mirie, for example, was one with which he had learned that he could trust his life. Others were short, with black and white hair, and curves that made his fingers itch to touch them. Others had brilliant, coin like gold eyes that sparkled at him insolently. Others had a pouting set of garnet red lips that could have tempted a saint.

      Jack shifted a little to keep his growing erection from causing discomfort. Others had, hell. Only one. The otherworlder who made Jack want to both run in the opposite direction and kiss the hell out of those sweet looking, lethal lips. At the same time.

      Asta. Even her name irritated him. And that damnable rumbling continued. It didn’t get louder or softer like an approaching or retreating vehicle. He didn’t think his computer was on. Was the refrigerator on the blink?

      But the kitchen was far enough away that he shouldn’t have been able to hear the grind of a motor going bad.

      Christ, he mumbled. He wanted to cover up his head with a king sized pillow and pray for the motor to abruptly blow up and leave him in peace.

      The purr suddenly got louder and there was a little movement beside one of his long legs. Jack’s eyes snapped open and in the next instant he was on the floor, crouched in a firing stance, a Glock in his hand, pointed at the cute little black and white cat kneading the

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