appalachia wild men wars

Here is the basis for my new book I will be releasing in 2026 about the Appalachian Wild Man. This is a fictional story of two tribes, one a Big Foot Creature and the Other a Lyken (WereWolve) Creatures that dwell in the mountains of Appalachia. They are separated like the vampires and wolves were in a very popular movie. Until two of them fall in love and change the way things work in those old rules and laws of the Appalachia Wild Men. Check it out as a preview to what is to come. Go check out my books on Amazon and order one today of my most recent books.

The air in the Appalachian high country hung thick with the scent of pine and ancient, unbroken silence. For over one hundred years, the great, hidden war in the hollows of North Carolina had been fought to a standstill—not by surrender, but by absolute avoidance.  Two tribes trying to stay to themselves and not break a barrier that would mean certain war and death.  Crossing that boundary had cost many lives previously so the elders swore to a blood pact that Whispering Creek would be the boundary of peace and never to be crossed.  

This deep sanctuary housed two civilizations of the afflicted, the lycanthropes known only to terrified local folklore: the swift, agile Lukas, and the massive, earth-shaking Nyhomes.  Both were primitive in living relying on nature and its bounty to survive.  Both had mastered the art of hunting, hiding and killing.  They survived the harsh winters in caves and stayed hidden with the exception of an occasional hiker that went too far into the woods.  

The Lukas kept to the eastern slopes, their encampments woven into the rhododendron thickets. Under the light of the gibbous moon, they shed their human skin to become the nightmare known to hunters as the Walking Wild Man: streamlined, lupine horrors with glowing eyes and an insatiable hunger for warm meat that could strip a deer to bone in minutes.  Hunters and hikers had glimpses of the Wild Men of the Appalachia but had never gotten a photo or actual proof of their existence.  The Lukas could eat a human and had in the far past, but that was taboo now and one of the founding principals of being a Luka.  When humans disappear or get lost, others come looking for them and that brings trouble.  

The Nyhomes reigned in the western ravines, dwelling beneath granite overhangs. Their transformation was a terrifying spectacle of bulk and muscle, turning them into the towering, shaggy beasts whispered about in smoky dive bars as the Woogie Man. They were slower than the Lukas, but their strength could shatter granite.  They were a more primitive species that relied on nature, hunting and hiding skills to stay unknown.  Some had accidentally been seen by hikers, but never had they been caught on camera.  They were experts at hiding and blending into the mountainous terrain.  

The pact was simple: Do not cross the Whispering Creek. For a century, this invisible boundary ensured survival. Peace was cold, harsh, and necessary.  That creek was the line that could not be crossed.  That creek kept the two tribes at bay and from intermingling with each other.  That creek had so many whispers of the past.  Secrets that neither tribe wanted to know or hear of the other.  

The Breach of the Creek

Skye Luka had the speed of the wind and the restless heart of a hawk. At eighteen, she chafed under the iron rule of her Elders, a mandate that treated silence as survival. On an autumn night when the moon was a silver shard, Skye dared to venture to the creek, drawn by a sound that was not the rustle of a deer but the heavy, measured rhythm of a troubled heart.  She could sense the heart beating and thought it may be an animal or a fresh opportunity for a kill.  As she approached the creek she saw something she had never seen before. She saw a large strapping male Woogie Man on the other side and her heart raced like never before.  Not racing to get a kill and share it with her clan.  But a different heart beat of curiosity and a feeling she never had before.  She had boys that wanted to mate with her in the clan, but never had she seen a male she wanted to mate with until that cold and fateful day at the creek.

There, on the opposite bank, stood Ryder Nyhome.

Ryder was all massive shoulders and quiet intensity, a young man burdened by the promise of becoming the monstrous Woogie Man. He felt the cold truth of his tribe: they were muscle without vision, trapped by their own density.  He felt that the old way was of the past and longed for a new beginning.  He longed for a time when the two rivals could intermingle and build civilization on trust, team work and forge a new dawn.  He also longed to get to know the beautiful but off limits Skye Luka. 

Their first conversation was a tense exchange of hissed warnings. They looked at each other and hissed to get the other to leave.  This was a warning that many generations had used at the creek as they bathed or hunted for the other tribe to move away.  It was taboo to watch the other tribe as well.  These warnings came to no avail and both stood their ground.  A few days later they had a second encounter where they actually used a learned sign language to speak to one another knowing it was forbidden.  The only members of the tribe that could speak to the other were the two eldest men and women.  And this was for special occasions only and very rarely happened.  

Their second was a confession of loneliness and frustration of the old way of thinking.  Both were attracted to the other and the blindness of curiosity and love had begun to implode within both of them. They visited one another for a brief time, staying on their side of the creek.. To be caught would be fatal and could reignite the wars that raged for over 100 years.  Their third, held under the canopy of a hundred forbidden nights, became a fierce, desperate romance.  This was a night of raging hormones and pleasure for both of the young tribes. members.  They knew the line had been crossed but did not care and so began a fiery love affair.  They were oil and water, speed and strength, yet they found in the other the missing piece of their own fractured nature.  They found a brighter future and hope of a new beginning.  One that may mean they had to leave the area to stay together.  

If caught, they would be hunted down and killed by their tribal peers.  It was the way things had gone for generations.  It was crossing the line of Whispering Creek.  It was not a good mix, but the two were drawn together by nature.  They were mixing their scents, their hopes, and ultimately, their bloodlines—a violation of the pact so profound it threatened to undo the stability of an entire century.  This bloodline mix would soon change everything for both tribes.

The First Blood

The peace shattered not with an explosion, but with a scent misplaced. A Luka scout, tracking an elk, caught an unfamiliar, musky scent mingled with Skye’s own—the unmistakable sulfurous hint of a Nyhome lair.  The hunting scout reported to the Elders that he picked up Nyhome scent on Luka.  This scout named Arrow was fond of Skye and wanted her for his own.  He vowed to figure out what was happening and make her pay for not wanting him back.  Arrow was a 20 year old Luka that was really fast and fierce.  He was a troubled young Luka with a dark past of hurting those that turned their back on him.

The revelation was instantaneous and devastating. Elder Kael Luka, Skye’s father, reacted with the cold fury of betrayed necessity. “She has tainted us!” he roared through the camp. “They are trying to weaken our blood! This is a covert attack!” Kael called an elder meeting and screamed revenge. He was scared of what may come of his daughter, so he turned his rage towards whomever the young Nyhome was to keep the elders from killing Skye.  She was his only child and he wanted to preserve the clan, but also preserve his daughter’s future.  But he knew deep inside that if she had bred with the Nyhome that the bloodline, even his own, was tainted forever going forward.  

The response from the Nyhomes was no less violent. Elder Tyrus Nyhome, a brute of a man that stood a full nine feet tall and four feet wide at the shoulders was infuriated at what had happened.  His cause was complete loyalty to the tradition.  He hated the Lukas and saw the romance as an attempt by the Walking Wild Men to infiltrate and steal their superior physical might.  He wanted complete revenge and wanted the head of the Luka female on a spear for the encampment to see.  He also wanted to end the life of the young man that had intermingled with the Lukas.  He was a traditionalist and held much power within the clan.  He called for all out war and an immediate attack on the Lukas as they slept in their lairs. 

The truce ended not with negotiation, but with the howls of the Walking Wild Men echoing off the slopes, met by the earth-trembling roars of the Woogie Men charging out of the darkness.  Both saw no way to end the romance between the two other than what had always happened.  War was the way of the clans and the way of the Luka and Nyhomes.  War would settle this once and for all.  Death would come at a cost, but it would preserve the future of both bloodlines for another 100 years after a truce was made once again.  

The woods became an abattoir. The fights were horrific. A Walking Wild Man could dart in, tearing at throats, only to be crushed by the sheer weight of a charging Woogie Man. Death came swiftly and brutally to many including some of the eldest members of the clans. Every fallen warrior—Luka or Nyhome—became proof to the remaining tribes that the enemy was pure evil and the pact was foolishness.  Doubt began to spread as the death toll rose and member after member were torn to pieces in bloody battles that raged on for several days.  

Skye and Ryder were trapped. They watched, hidden in a shared, shallow cave, as their brethren slaughtered each other, driven only by hatred passed down through the generations.

“They cannot stop,” Skye wept, her face smeared with the mud she used to mask her scent. “They only see the monster, not the person inside.”  As she wept the battle raged down the mountain, on the cliffs and in the valleys of Appalachia.  

“Then we show them a different way,” Ryder said, his voice heavy with resolve.  We show them that we can be at peace, intermingle with one another and live our lives free from the past, from war, from death and from the tyranny of the Elders.  Ryder and Skye began to plan how to make this happen while hiding and not being hunted down or killed.

The Merging

The war reached its peak on the third night of the conflict. The two Elders—Kael Luka and Tyrus Nyhome—met in the clearing near the Whispering Creek, both transformed, towering symbols of their tribes’ hatred. The air was thick with bloodlust.

Kael Luka, the Walking Wild Man, was a whirlwind of claws, circling his larger opponent, seeking weaknesses. Tyrus Nyhome, the colossal Woogie Man, was a furious pillar of muscle, swinging arms that could splinter oaks. They were fighting for extinction.  As the two elders squared off and circled waiting to strike the others watched and cheered the battle on.  The others wanted to see blood and guts.  They wanted their side to win, call a new truce in place and move forward.  But rumblings of a new way were starting to infiltrate both camps.  Some of the younger people were craving a new beginning as they had seen what they did the old way.  It leads to death and no real solution.  It was old, outdated and of the past.  

Skye and Ryder knew they had little time. They charged into the clearing together, not as fighters, but as a distraction, a living contradiction.  They knew getting caught was certain death and that the fury of the two elders would turn to them instead of killing each other.  But they had to try to stop the war.  They wanted to stop the killing and were willing to sacrifice themselves for change.  They plead to one another a vow to go down fighting or stay together.  Either way they had to try and face the consequences of their actions. 

“STOP!” Skye screamed, placing herself directly between her father and Ryder. Tears flowing down her cheeks like rain.  Kael hesitated, his lupine jaw dripping saliva. “Get out of the way, little girl! This filth must be extinguished!”  “The old ways must abide and death must come for those that broke the pact”.  He shoved her to the side, which enraged Ryder to jump at the Elder Kael.  

Ryder stepped forward, covering Skye. “There is no end to this hatred! Look at us! We are not weaker together, we are balanced!”  The Elders ignored them, circling, ready to strike. It was at this moment that Skye had her revelation. They did not need to fight the war; they needed to break the ancient molds. Skye looked at Ryder. “We stop fighting their war. We show them what we are.”  We show them that love can overcome all war, hatred and misconceptions of the past.

They embraced fully, a forbidden, desperate union of flesh and spirit, right in the center of the carnage. The energy that surged through them was not violent or rooted in bloodlust, but transcendent. In the flash of blinding light, a third form emerged.

It was neither the lean, swift Wolf-man nor the massive, crude Woogie Man. It was something integrated: possessing the height and raw strength of the Nyhomes, but the refined, focused agility of the Lukas. The fur was dark, the eyes piercing, and it stood balanced, not hunched for fight or flight. It was a massive being like none had ever seen or witnessed.  It was a mixture of the two of them.  It was a new beginning for both tribes.  It was a new way to show that the mixture was not bad, but made them even more advanced and better than the past.  

The warring tribes paused, staring at the walking paradox. They saw their future, terrifying in its novelty, yet undeniably whole. Kael Luka and Tyrus Nyhome, exhausted and covered in the blood of their people, backed away, their hatred momentarily eclipsed by confusion. They stared at the creature in front of them in awe.  They began to question their own bias and prejudice of the past about each other and the enemy in front of them.  They stopped the fighting, called a truce and returned to their encampments to figure out what had just taken place before their eyes.  

The New Civilization

The shock of the merged form was enough to halt the immediate slaughter. Skye and Ryder, having taken the lead through the sheer force of their unity, began the agonizing process of forging peace. They made new pacts of peace.  They broke the land into smaller increments and stopped using the creek as a barrier of peace.  It was now a way of moving back and forth as needed into each other’s area.  But this came without trials and tribulations.  There were some factions of young and old, especially Arrow the Luka that was not happy about what had taken place.  

The trials were immense. The survivors had to learn to live side-by-side, sharing hunting grounds and resources without the security of the century-old boundary. Old grudges flared and had to be extinguished by the combined authority of the young leaders. They spoke of the Integrated Shadow, a civilization that honored both speed and strength, agility and endurance.

But the final, greatest trial was yet to come: the promise of a new, true civilization. They had to control their voracious appetites, not just for the sake of each other, but for the world outside the woods.  This new appetite was destructive and unending.  It required many more hours of hunting, scavenging and growing food. It required that each member of the tribe be dedicated to the new way.  

“We have hidden for a hundred years, killing simply to survive,” Ryder stated to the weary remnants of the tribes. “But we are stronger now. We are a force of balance. We must learn to feed the hunger without taking a human life.” 

It was a slow, painful process of discipline, relying on the combined knowledge of tracking and control. They began to venture beyond the protective perimeter of the mountains, not as hunters, but as observers.

They moved toward the small, unsuspecting towns nestled in the NC valleys. The first steps were terrifying—a single, controlled night of commerce and observation, walking among the unsuspecting humans who had only ever seen the monsters of the mountain mist.

Skye and Ryder led the way, blending into the quiet rhythm of human life. They established a sustainable, secret existence—using their enhanced senses not for the kill, but for surveillance and avoidance, learning to mimic and manipulate the human world without destroying it.

The Lukas and the Nyhomes, no longer two broken tribes but one strong, disciplined force, began to build a new life in the shadow of the visible world. The Woogie Man and the Walking Wild Man were not erased, but refined—becoming guardians of a new pact: not a pact of separation, but one of integration, ensuring that the blood and chaos of the Appalachian wars would never stain the mountains again. The two lovers had not just ended a war; they had catalyzed the evolution of their species.