J. M. Snyder: Under A Confederate Moon

Under A Confederate Moon by J. M. Snyder
From: Amber Allure

Slowly Brance lowered the gun. He crammed it into the waistband of his pants, a makeshift holster. Then he stepped up to Caleb and raised one hand to his face. Caleb flinched, but Brance only traced the curve of his jaw, then lifted his chin until they faced each other. Again, his eyes were unfathomable—Caleb wished it were night and they had changed, if only because then he knew what went on behind that pale gaze.

Tenderly Brand touched the dimple in Caleb’s chin.
“Don’t follow me,” he whispered. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Caleb nodded quickly, eager to please; then Brance kissed him, his beard itchy against Caleb’s hairless chin. As that sure tongue licked into him again, Caleb’s eyes slipped shut and his hands went limp, the blanket falling in a heap at his feet. The touch on his face disappeared, followed by the mouth on his. He sighed and kept his eyes closed as he listened to the faint sounds of Brance slipping away into the woods.

It took the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon, but Caleb finally stumbled upon his discarded shirt, halfburied in mud and covered with paw prints. He picked it up, shook it out the best he could, and slipped his arms into the shredded sleeves. The buttons were gone. Pulling it shut across his chest, he untied the blanket around his waist and tucked the shirt down, then reknotted the blanket. The shirt was cold and damp; the fabric stuck to his back, clammy in the shadows. He’d need to see the sutler about a new shirt when he got back to his camp—the major would pitch a fit if he saw Caleb wearing this rag.

As Caleb retraced his route from the previous evening, his mind inevitably circled back to Brance. Like a bad cold, Caleb couldn’t shake him. The man infected his thoughts; the memory of his hands and lips and mouth was a ghost that lingered to haunt Caleb’s skin. A big man, rugged, not the type Caleb normally liked, but there was something untouchable about him that dogged Caleb, something unattainable that promised pleasure and so much more, if only Caleb could catch hold of it. How easy would it be to lose himself in a man like that? To give himself up wholly to him? What would it be like to chase the moon and stars with Brance at his side? How fast would they run, how far would they go? Could they outrace this present strife, put their pasts behind them, and move into a future where their hearts and souls, human and animal both, became one?

Caleb Chilton is a Confederate Soldier fighting a losing war amongst the ranks and hiding a dangerous secret. Dangerous for him that is. Every month at the full moon he changes into a bobcat which is more than a little inconvenient in the middle of a war zone.

While out one full moon night dodging bullets from his own guys while in his bobcat suit he stumbles upon another bobcat. One that just so happens can talk just like he can. Brance, a Yankee as we will soon come to find out, is wounded. Caleb immediately wants to help Brance even if it is against the older bobcats wishes for him to do so. After a night of hunting for Brance and helping him recover, Caleb and Brance awake to a morning both human, nude and ready to find out more about each other in many different ways.

I have to admit short sweet and to the point stories like this one impress me. I like an author who is not out to write the next big series and who’s whole point seems to be to clearly express as economically as possible a single brief moment between two unique men. It spurs my own imagination when done right to fill in the blanks so to speak and makes me love the story even more for the chance to stretch myself while enjoying the finely focused text.

J. M. Snyder has written a nice wonderful short story of southern boy redneck love that totally makes up for the many other literary sins I have read this week. Thanks J.M. for making me believe that eBooks are still a place to find something small but very special that falls far outside of the typical attempts at over baked, over wrought, epics with questionable character motivations and cream filler rich novels full of stale angst. I for one enjoy the fact you simply made me smile at a really good delicious bite of a tale.

Bobcats, bite, tale, get it? Grade A

Tags: Amber Quill Press, Gay, Grade A, J. M. Snyder, Weresomething Romance