LAND OF FALLING STARS by Keta Diablo

LAND OF FALLING STARS by Keta Diablo

After her parents die in a fire, Sophia Whitfield struggles to save her beloved home, Arbor Rose. The Civil War has devastated the South, and another blue coat has come to steal her meager possessions. Before the hated enemy inflicts his destruction, she shoots him. And soon discovers the soldier is Gavin, the champion of her childhood.

Gavin's dark secret lurks in Sophia's future. When she discovers the truth, she's torn between a burning hunger for the man she truly loves and loyalty to Jesse, their childhood friend.

The despicable acts of war have changed everything Sophia and Gavin once cherished. Yet somewhere deep in their hearts, the mystical Land of Falling Stars still exists.

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EXCERPT from Land of Falling Stars, an erotic civil war novel, Keta Diablo

Set-up: Gavin is wounded from a knife fight with one of the villains. He finds Sophia hiding in a barn after the fight.

~ ~ ~
Sophia pressed her back against the rough-hewn planks of the stable wall and inched her way down to a bed of hay at her feet. With her heart thudding, she closed her eyes and willed the brutal images to leave her mind. Gavin could be dead, his blood seeping into the ground. The irony. Three years he'd been gone, fought in a hundred battles only to be killed after he'd come back . . . back to her. Oh, God, she couldn't think about it, couldn't stand to watch him die. She ran hard and fast the second Billy sliced through the soft, golden skin she longed to touch again. Sweet Mother of Jesus, what if he was dead and she’d never . . . .

"I found you."

She lifted her head and looked into Gavin's eyes. A horse neighed several stalls
over and the moon spun out from a patch of clouds shrouding his lean body. His bare chest oozed blood and trickled into his waistband.

Relief flooded her and then panic. "You're bleeding again."

"Am I?" He glanced down at the wound and back to her face. "It looks worse than
it is."

She hesitated when he held his hand out. She didn’t know what would happen when her skin come into contact with his. Beneath his bold perusal, she lifted her trembling hand.

"You're frightened," he said, his forehead creased. “Of me, Sophia?"

She shook her head and hoped he didn't see through her lie. After witnessing his
rage moments ago, she didn't know what to expect from him.

"I would never," he said in a hoarse tone, "harm you." Moving in, he forced her back against the wooden planks. His warm breath fanned her cheeks. "I don't want you to fear me, ever." His chest rose and fell on torn breaths, and his mouth hovered over hers, mingling their breaths. "Kiss me, Sophia."

She looked into his eyes, transfixed by the depth of passion residing there. He placed his hands on the wall and bracketed her head. Their lips met. In the aftermath of the violence, she expected a harsh, demanding kiss, but it was anything but. Gentle and languorous, it shook her to the very core. His tongue caressed her lower lip seeking entry. She responded without thought, parting her lips on a small moan. The erotic dance against the tip of her tongue sent a stream of wild sensations through her limbs. Her hands sought the warm flesh of his chest, every inch ridged muscle. He flinched when her fingers made contact with the fresh wound. Astounded by the emptiness she felt when he broke from the kiss, she gathered her battered senses and looked into his eyes.

“Is that how it felt when Jesse kissed you?"

Trapped between the wall and his body, she looked away from those wicked eyes.
Deliriously weak, shocking images of him crushing her beneath him stormed through her mind. Dear God, what's the matter with me? Promised to Jesse, bound to him heart and soul, I can’t allow myself to think about Gavin's powerful limbs tangled in my bed sheets, his head thrashing in delirium, or his hot, feverish eyes. Since Gavin had returned, her mind swam with carnal thoughts of the man.

A hand came down and lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Hmm, Sophia, is it?"

"I'm so befuddled." Tears pooled in her eyes. "What about Jesse? I promised I'd wait no matter what happened, but . . . ." To speak her heart would be the epitome of betrayal to the person they’d both loved since the day they sailed the Rappahannock dressed as pirates.

He kissed her eyelids. "If he returned tomorrow, you'd fall into his arms; pretend you feel nothing for me, deny this passion between us?"

"Gavin, don't . . . ." She averted her face.

He tightened his grip on her chin, his tone harsh. "Would you, Sophia?"

"Yes," she whispered. "I'd go to him, banish this from my mind."

"It would be that easy?"

"Not easy, Gavin, but . . . ."

"You need to leave Arbor Rose!" His raised voice startled her. "There's nothing left for you here! Your parents are dead and Jesse isn't . . . ."

Without conscious thought, she slapped him. "Don't say it! I can't leave Arbor Rose. Jesse will return and−”

"He's not coming back and you have to face it." He brought a hand to her cheek. "The entire country is about to explode, and if you had any god-given sense, you'd go to your mother's people in Illinois."

She narrowed her eyes, her tone icy. "Let me go. Jesse's coming back and when he does I'm going to keep my promise and marry him.” Her voice softened. "We must forget this, whatever it is."

She shivered from the volatile emotion in his eyes. The same feral snarl that came over him when he crushed Billy and his companions spewed from his lips. He grabbed her wrists, pinned them over her head, and took her mouth, hard. His tongue plundered her lips and forced them apart. She writhed to free herself, but he held her fast, imprisoning her in their mutual desire. Erotic pleasure surged through her veins. Her fingers moved to his long, black hair and she seemed incapable of stopping the moans from the back of her throat.

Clinging to him like a child, she whimpered, "Gavin . . . please."

"You want me, admit it," he said against her mouth.

He clutched a length of her skirt and shoved it over her hips, allowing his fingers to slide up the hot flesh of her thighs. A sound erupted from her throat again, no longer a moan of pleasure but a sob. He stopped on a heartbeat, stepped back and dropped his hands to his sides. Their eyes locked. His shone with lust and anger. She wanted to draw back, knew she should flee but something powerful held her immobilized. Warning bells rang in her head yet she longed to return to his kiss, feel his body against hers.

He drew a deep breath. "Leave, Sophia, now!"

She inched her way along the wall, turned to look at him one last time and scurried through the door.

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HOLDING ON TO HEAVEN by Keta Diablo

HOLDING ON TO HEAVEN by Keta Diablo

When the blazing fires of revolt ravage the countryside, Lauren and Sage McCain are trapped amid the flames of destiny. The Civil War has crumbled a Nation, and the Dakota Sioux uprising has turned southern Minnesota into a violent battlefield.

Holding on to Heaven is a story of love between two men and a woman, love between siblings, and love that crosses all boundaries and forges all cultures.

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Excerpt:

Set-up: Ah, the romance and strong attraction begin. Creed and Lauren race against one another. Here's their thoughts before the horse race and the events that happen during it.


* * *

Through the pounding heartbeat in Lauren’s ears she realized she wanted him, wanted him like she’d never wanted another. Damn, had she lost her mind? The man reeked danger and abandon, would take her body in the blink of an eye and, no... it wouldn’t be in the blink of an eye. It would be wild and crazy and passionate, all the things she’d yearned for, craved, in the dark solace of her dreams. Lord, how she wished she’d never laid eyes on the decadent man.

Brand’s calm voice pulled her from her tumultuous thoughts. “Time for that race, Lauren.” He rose and offered her his arm. “I’m placing my money on you.”

“I wouldn’t advise that.”

“You can beat Creed. Concentrate, and no matter how much you want to see if he’s about to run you over, don’t look back.”

She chewed on the inside of her cheek and nodded. “It’s going to take a miracle to win, isn’t it?”

“Miracles happen every day.” He brought his fingers to her face and brushed her cheek. “Ride like you rode against me today and you have a chance.”



* * * *



An indefinable feeling snaked through Creed’s gut when Brand walked forward with Lauren. Anna pressed her voluptuous breasts into Creed's side and wished him luck, but he scarcely heard her words. Tired of Anna’s continual demands of late, the time had come for them to go separate ways. He’d known Anna for years, but only in the last several months had he succumbed to her fleshy curves. The woman had tried every wile known to female to rein him in, and all had failed. Although warm and eager, Anna had never held his interest for more than an hour or two. He realized now no woman had ever intrigued him like Lauren McCain.

He had tried to ignore the jolt of lust rushing through his veins when she watched him during the meal. It had taken all his reserve to act detached while she sat beside his brother flashing her cat-like eyes. He didn’t like the feelings she aroused in him. They left him sullen and edgy. Jesus, what in hell was wrong with him? He barely knew the she-cat with a tongue sharper than barbs.

Now, with every step she took toward him, the blood rushed to his groin. He wasn’t prepared for the vision she presented, the snug riding pants and filmy blouse. A dark brown ribbon held her hair at her nape and tumbled down her back in a veil of burnished copper. The color of those silky tresses reminded him of autumn leaves. Her eyes were brown and slanted up at the corners. Above them, her brows were perfect and articulated her mood with an arch or a downward slant. How had he missed that nuance when he committed to memory the other lovely features of her face?

Tall for a woman and thinner than smoke, he longed to run his hands down the small of her back, her perfect bottom and . . . hell, he had to stop thinking about fucking her all the time. He meant to beat her in the race, and beat her he would. Smiling to himself, he savored the thought of what it would be like to take her down a notch from her lofty perch. Only then would that smirk be wiped from her face—the I’m-better-than-you-sneer she loved to flaunt.

“Miss McCain, I hope you haven’t gorged yourself.” Inwardly, Creed smiled when color stained her cheeks. “I’d hate to see your mount weighted down for the final race.”

“Don’t worry about Adobe or me.” She spat the words and mounted. “We’re more than ready to leave you in our dust.”

The gold flecks in her eyes sparked. For a brief moment he forgot about the crowd and longed to yank her from the saddle and introduce her back to the dust she spoke of.

“To your success.” Creed raised his tankard of ale, downed it and set it on the ground near his feet. He spoke to Mason as he swung a leg over the saddle, his words confident and bold. “Let’s be about it then.”

The crowd broke into rowdy whistles and then fell silent at Mason’s words. “On the count of three. One...two...three!”

The horses bolted at the retort of the pistol. Adobe and Creed’s black mare ran neck and neck to the opposite end of the field. Thick clumps of sod flew through the air from Adobe’s hooves as he sailed over the bundles in perfect sync with Creed’s mount. He dragged his gaze from her expert riding skills and concentrated on the race.

Someone obviously had warned her not to look over her shoulder. She rode low, close to the stallion’s mane her lush body one with the horse. The very air enveloping them groaned with a competitive edge he’d never felt before. The spitfire intended to beat him at any cost.

Although fleet of foot, his mare lacked size against the stallion. When they reached the bales at the far end of the field, his time had come to overtake her. Her stallion navigated the crazy-eight with ease, and so did the mare. His moment was at hand. As the mounts crossed over and headed for opposite sides, she dug her heels into Adobe’s side and drove him into the mare’s withers. His horse stumbled to her stifles, her frightened whinnies echoing through the air. Lauren pressed on without as much as a backward glance.

The mare found her footing and like her rider, rage spurned her onward. She made up for the precious lost seconds the reckless stunt had cost them, but not enough to charge over the finish line before the stallion.

The crowd went wild as the riders swept past them in a swirling haze of dust. Damn, the cheating bitch had won. Halting near the corral, Lauren dismounted and bolted from her mount.

Creed dogged her heels, so close, he saw her knees quake. “You cheated!” He advanced and poked an accusatory finger into her chest. “You could have killed me with that crazy stunt you pulled!”

She backed away, visibly shaken. “Whatever are you talking about? You lost, fair and square.”

He screamed so loud, she jumped. “Liar!”

“Your clumsy mount lost her footing and plowed into Adobe!” Their gazes locked, and in that infinitesimal moment, he lost pace with his breathing. “You, Creed Gatlin,” she said her voice quavering. “Were bested by a mere woman so live with it.”

“You’re no woman.” He didn’t know if he wanted to ring her slender neck or toss her to the ground and slam into her until she admitted that she cheated. “You’re a spoiled little bitch!”

An audible gasp fell from her lips, brown eyes narrowed.

“You could never beat me fair and square and you know it.” He struggled to control his emotions. She’d beaten him in the race, albeit by cheating, but why did he sense she was beating him again now?

Her bottom lip trembled and he became aware of her childlike vulnerability, and his potent desire for her. The cutting remarks, the bold, confident persona were nothing more than a façade on her part. Her nearness sent his senses reeling―the scent of woman, horse and leather adding to the roaring chaos in his head. She stumbled on the words she tried to speak and tears filled her eyes.

“Leave, now,” he said. “Before I do something we’ll both regret.”

She raised her dainty chin and held his eyes for an eternity. Then her long lashes swept down across her cheeks before she bustled past him in a cloud of dust.

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BETWEEN STATES by J. M. Snyder

BETWEEN STATES by J.M. Snyder

The year is 1863.

Caleb Chilson is a private in the Confederate Army, currently camped in the Virginian woods.

Most of his time is spent on picket duty, on the lookout for a Yankee attack. But when the moon is full, he manages to slip away from the encampment and into the woods to become something a little less than human ...

Imagine his surprise when he meets another werecat like himself. The only difference? Brance Brenneman wears a Yankee uniform.


Contains the stories:
•Book 1: Under a Confederate Moon
•Book 2: Beneath a Yankee Sky
•Book 3: A More Perfect Union

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EXCERPT FROM "Beneath a Yankee Sky"
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.

Brance chased after Caleb, their feline bodies mere shadows racing among many in the night. His teeth were bared and Caleb’s scent filled his nostrils, enflamed his instincts. He wanted to mate and to eat, in that order. But his lover liked to run -- he liked to be caught, and kept just out of reach as they tore through the underbrush, scaring up mice and birds and any number of small creatures in their wake.

Ahead, the trees opened into a small thicket. Too late, Brance realized he was running headlong into an ambush; he skidded to a stop in the thick grass and turned as a bobcat’s battle cry filled the clearing. Before he could speak, Caleb tackled him, a ball of fur and strong hind legs. They rolled back into the grass, Brance’s jaws snapping for purchase, Caleb’s wet nose nuzzling into his ballocks as his tail tickled under Brance’s nose. The woods were alive with Caleb’s scent, a wild, rangy smell that Brance wanted to pin down beneath him and rub against until his senses exploded in orgasm. ::Fuck me,:: Caleb demanded, tongue licking below Brance’s tail to entice his penis to extend. ::What are we waiting for here? If you’re not going to --::

Brance’s growl cut him off. ::Can’t you ever be still?::

Chastised, Caleb rolled away from Brance. He sat on his haunches, eyes closed, as if he hadn’t just been cavorting like a kitten a moment ago. With feline dignity, he licked one forepaw, smoothed it back over his ear, repeated the gesture. ::Fine.::

Lying on his side, Brance watched his lover, wary. The grooming was a ploy, nothing more. He watched the large paw run back over the ear, turning it inside out until Caleb flicked it right again. Caleb kept his eyes closed, his whole body still except for the paw and the tip of his tail, which tamped down the grass. With an almost human-like sigh, Brance drew in a deep breath and blew it out through his nose. The last thing he wanted to admit was that it seemed too quiet now, with Caleb pretending to ignore him. His own tail slapped the grass in a quick, angry motion.

A ragged purring erupted from Caleb. He lowered his body down to the ground, stretched out his paws, and extended his claws to rake through the soft fur on Brance’s underbelly. When Brance didn’t move, Caleb dared to inch closer, nose wrinkling as he sniffed his way along his lover’s body. The second that wet nose touched his fur, Brance raised his hind leg and set his paw against Caleb’s forehead to hold him back.

::Please,:: Caleb said. He came closer still, widening the space between Brance’s legs, nose drawn once again to the other cat’s genitals. His rough tongue licked out to taste Brance’s tender ballocks. ::Just let me ...::

Brance’s growl raised his own hackles. ::Have I no say in the matter?::

Caleb huffed, his nose filled with Brance’s fur as he routed out the erect pink penis below Brance’s anus. When Caleb’s tongue licked it, an intense pleasure shot through Brance and he kneaded the ground with his forepaws, his growl dissipating into a loud purr. Amused, Caleb countered, ::I think this says it all.::

In one fluid motion, Brance extracted himself from Caleb’s ministrations and leapt to his feet. Before the other bobcat could react, he pounced -- his teeth sank into the thick fur at Caleb’s neck, holding him in place. A rowdy mrraow filled the night. Beneath him, Caleb arched his back, raising his rear haunches into the air to present himself. His claws tore up the grass in his need; as Brance’s underbelly rubbed over his backside, Caleb’s tongue darted out, lapping up the air. One word passed between them, over and over again, a litany of affirmation, acceptance, love. ::Please,:: Caleb begged as Brance’s body covered his. ::Please,:: as Brance’s penis rimmed Caleb’s flaring hole. ::Please, please, please.::

Then Brance entered him, and their mingled cries of lust drowned out all other sound.

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MAKING CHRISTMAS by Lizzie T Leaf

MAKING CHRISTMAS by Lizzie T Leaf

Wounded in a skirmish, Callie Marsh’s disguise as a Confederate soldier is discovered by the doctor who treats her. Working with him in the hospital she learns no matter what color uniform a soldier wears, they all miss family during the holidays. And that an enemy doctor can be the man of her dreams.

Dr. Tom Kent knows the safest place for the woman is working by his side. Their constant interaction has him wanting more than is smart, considering their division of philosophy. His determination to keep her safe is hindered by Major Henry Ash’s decision that the young prisoner would make an excellent aide. And close exposure to the commander could put her in danger of discovery.

Will Callie be able to set aside her dislike of Yankees to make Christmas for the enemy and especially for the man she’s come to love?

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~Excerpt~

“Cal, why don’t I check the bandage on your shoulder while things are quiet?” Tom closed the tent flap behind him when he entered. “How does it feel?”

“Not much pain, just a little tender.” Callie unbuttoned the shirt Tom had given her and dropped one shoulder down to give him access to the bandage. He worked quickly, removing the old one and replacing it with a smaller piece of muslin which he secured by tying another strip around it.

“The looseness of the shirt hides your breasts for now, but I think when we have more time available, we’d better bind them again.”

Callie didn’t miss the doctor’s attempt not to glance lower.

No way would she add to what seemed a constant state of embarrassment by letting him bind her breasts. She’d done it before and she could take care of it now. “I can do it if you just give a piece of cloth.” His gaze feasting on her nude chest was the last thing she needed.

“I’ll give you time alone this evening, then. It may be difficult to accomplish by yourself with the shoulder, but if you want to give it a try that’s fine with me.” Tom hastily gathered the remaining bandages and put them back in the trunk where he kept such supplies.

“What’s going to happen to me now that I’m on the mend?”

His back tensed before Tom slowly turned to face her. “I’ve thought about that and think it’s best if you remain with me. Given the circumstances, putting you in with the other prisoners isn’t a good idea. Besides, given what the men perceive as your circumstances, it would probably create discomfort for the rest of troops.”

“What circumstances?”

This time, Tom flushed. “They are under the impression that you have lost your man parts.”

“I what?” Then it dawned on her…”Oh.”

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