Flash Fiction: Under a New Moon

He emptied his syringe into the bowl. “This trick works?”

She watched their blood mix under a new moon. “If it boils, I can’t gift you. That foretells a berserk werewolf.”

He saw no reaction. “You bite me now?”

She offered the bowl. “There’s a gentler way.”



Copyright © 2019 by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.

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