Tuesday, April 18, 2017

Fiction Friends - Come Love A Cowboy II by Keta Diablo/Cait Braxton

 

Come Love A Cowboy, II
Keta Diablo/Cait Braxton

 Three western romance novellas from the Wild West!
Comes An Outlaw
Chasing the Dead
Catherine's Cowboy


* * *
About Comes An Outlaw
When a tragic accident claims her husband's life, Jesse Santos must find a way to keep the ranch, the only home her 12-year-old son has ever known.  The ranch hands have abandoned her, a gang of cutthroat ranchers want her land and an ancient Yaqui Indian insists a spirit has taken up residence in the house.

After a fifteen-year absence, her husband's brother, Coy, returns to his childhood home. He doesn't plan on staying, and he certainly doesn't intend to settle down with a widow and her son…no matter how pretty she is.

He's an outlaw, after all, and made a decision to put an end to his gun-slinging days long ago. Will his conscience let him walk away from family, or will his heart overrule his head?

"I loved all the components of this story. The Indian lore was probably my favorite though."

"The storyline is brilliant. This novella has many twists and turns. A page turner."

"Diablo has created a set of compelling characters. Jesse captures the essence of the time, when women had very few options, and even fewer good ones."

* * *
About Chasing The Dead
In 1884 New Mexico, Madrid Arrende finds herself kidnapped by the Apache. Determined to rescue his daughter, Don Erasmos Arrende realizes there is only one man capable of bringing her back alive...Deacon Bannister. Deacon doesn't give one whit about the large sum of money the wealthy land owner has offered him. He cares only about bringing the woman he left at the altar a year ago home.

A ghost is terrorizing the Apache village and the young maiden, Sacheen, has been banished by her People for unleashing Uday's wrath. Now, Deacon, Madrid and Sacheen must flee for their lives across the rugged New Mexico landscape with the evil spirit in hot pursuit.

Will they make it back alive to Madrid's father's hacienda or will Deacon lose Madrid forever?

"What a fantastically original plot and story idea! If you like westerns, American history, the native American Indians or just want a read with some seriously sexy Bannister boys (cowboys!!), well then this one is for you."
"Chasing the Dead" was an action-packed thriller! Awesome romance by Keta Diablo, portraying New Mexico at the end of the nineteenth century and all the various ethnic groups that came together to weave the colorful tapestry of New Mexico's state culture."
"Chasing the Dead gave me everything I have come to expect from a good western romance: strong, likeable heroines, desert sunsets and palpable settings I could lose myself in."
* * *
About Catherine's Cowboy
On the run from her vicious Kiowa husband, Catherine seeks shelter from a raging dust storm when labor begins. Fate steps in when a retired army tracker also seeks refuge from the elements and stumbles upon the same ramshackle dwelling.

Elam helps Catherine deliver her child and a strong bond forms between them. But outside, biding his time until the squall passes someone longs to claim both of their lives and take what is rightfully his…the child.

"Gives you a glimpse on what life was like back in the day where Indians and the white man didn't get along. Very much an eye opening story and I'm hoping it continues." 5 Stars – All Night Books
* * *

Setup From Comes An Outlaw
After a 15 year absence, Coy Santos rides into his childhood home. He's hoping to see his parents after all this time, and hopefully his brother. He soon finds out his parents passed years ago, and his brother died recently.

 The lovely woman standing on the front porch has a rifle pointed at his chest and she doesn't look happy to see a stranger ride in.

Excerpt From Comes An Outlaw
The one-story house came into view. Still painted buttercup yellow and trimmed in white, with a wrap-around veranda the same color as the trim, at least that hadn't changed. The red barn still stood and to the right of the house, the riotous garden remained. Childhood memories flooded him. He could almost smell his mother's Blue Bells and Forget Me Nots, taste her home-grown beans, squash and the mouth-watering ears of corn, fresh off the stalk.
A dog barked from somewhere near the steps of the porch. As he drew closer he spotted the long-haired cur, part Australian Shepherd and a breed he couldn't identify. The dog trotted up the steps when he brought his horse to a halt, settled in beside a young boy, and then flashed an ominous row of white teeth his way. His gaze left the dog and wandered to the boy with a baby screech owl perched on his left shoulder. A brown slouch hat sat atop his head, the chin strap resting on his chest. His hair was long and jet black, his eyes gun-metal gray. A rope-belt held up his baggy wool trousers and the white cotton shirt set off his youthful, tanned face. A face that held a wary expression yet exuded a cocky air.
"State your business," a female voice called out.
Too busy taking in his surroundings, the dog and the boy, his tired brain overlooked the woman on the porch. Now that he'd taken a good look, he couldn't imagine how any man with blood running through his veins could fail to notice her. Tall and lean, weathered leather trousers clung to her long legs like second skin. A red flannel shirt hung long and loose on her body but failed to hide her womanly curves. Her hair was thick and straight, falling past her shoulders in a tangle of burnished copper. Watchful and intense, her large, round eyes glistened like liquid pools of blue ice.
When he brought a knee up to dismount, she cocked the rifle. "You don't hear so good. I asked you to state your business."
"My business? I was about to ask what you're doing here and follow it up with just who the hell are you?"
"Don't bother dismounting, and don't even think about going for that sidearm at your hip. Though the buzzards might like it; they haven't had their breakfast yet this morning."
"Right friendly, aren't ya?"
"To my friends, yes."
"Where's the folks that used to live here?"
She jerked her chin toward a cluster of cottonwoods in the distance. He remembered the trees and the black wrought-iron fence surrounding them, the family graveyard. His heart wrenched for a brief moment. He hadn't considered the possibility that his parents might be dead.
"Where's Cain? He off again on one of his infamous ghost hunts or is he hiding inside with his nose buried in a textbook?"
Something crossed her eyes for a second…surprise, sorrow? Maybe both. "You know Cain?"
"I should, he's my brother."
Definitely shock this time. "Your…your brother?"
"Now who can't hear so good?"
"I heard you. He, well, he didn't talk much about a brother."
"No, don't imagine he did." He put his hands out at his sides. "Look, it's mighty hot out here under the sun, and my horse needs water. And for the record, never point a rifle at a man unless you intend to use it."
"I still might."
He shook his head and blew a puff of air.
"All right, climb on down but keep your hands where I can see 'em." She eased up on the rifle and turned to the boy. "Grange, grab a bucket of water for his horse."
The kid scrambled down the steps and headed for the well nearby, the mutt close on his heels and growling as he passed. "Easy, Fetch," the boy said.
"Fetch? How original."
"At least he's got a name," he muttered under his breath and kept on walking.
Coy turned back to the woman. "The kid's right. Forgive my manners. Name is Coy…Coy Santos, Cain's younger brother. If he's not here right now, I'm sure he'll vouch for me when he gets back."




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