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    Under a Confederate Moon
    Under a Confederate Moon
    Under a Confederate Moon
    Ebook64 pages55 minutes

    Under a Confederate Moon

    By J.M. Snyder

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    Bitten as a teen, Caleb now suffers through a painful transformation from human to bobcat a few days each month. As a bobcat, he leaves behind his camp and fellow soldiers to explore the night. But a gunshot and the bright scent of fresh blood draws him to a clearing where he learns that he isn't the only one of his kind.

    Wounded and hurt, Brance is a loner by nature, gruff and grumbling, who doesn't want anything to do with Caleb ... at first. The younger bobcat prevails, and starts to win Brance over, until they turn human again and find themselves on opposite sides of the American Civil War.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJMS Books LLC
    Release dateApr 3, 2011
    ISBN9781611520705
    Under a Confederate Moon
    Author

    J.M. Snyder

    An author of gay erotic romance, J.M. Snyder began self-publishing gay erotic fiction in 2002. Since then, Snyder has worked with several e-publishers, most notably Amber Allure Press and eXcessica Publishing.Snyder’s short fiction has appeared online at Ruthie’s Club, Tit-Elation, Eros Monthly, and Amazon Shorts, as well as in anthologies released by Alyson Books, Cleis Press, and others.For more book excerpts, free fiction, and purchasing information, please visit http://jmsnyder.net.

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      Book preview

      Under a Confederate Moon - J.M. Snyder

      Under a Confederate Moon

      By J.M. Snyder

      Published by JMS Books LLC

      Visit jms-books.com for more information.

      Copyright 2019 J.M. Snyder

      ISBN 9781611520705

      Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

      Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

      All rights reserved.

      WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

      No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

      This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

      Published in the United States of America.

      * * * *

      Under a Confederate Moon

      By J.M. Snyder

      The golden glow of the sunset painted in autumnal hues the thick trees that surrounded the Confederate encampment. On the outskirts of camp, beyond the pitched tents, Private Caleb Chilson leaned against his rifle, one of a handful of pickets posted to ward off the coming night and the threat of a Yankee attack. Since the sun had begun to disappear below the horizon, a faint, familiar ache had blossomed in his lower belly, a cramp not unlike hunger pains, a burning that seemed to grow more desperate with each passing minute. The change was coming over him, responding to the rising moon. He felt it in his bones.

      He had another hour, maybe two, before the rifle fell from his hands and he'd lose another good pair of pants to his damn condition. The last time it'd happened, the sutler laughed at the hole torn in the back of his dungarees. You sure you caught this on a fence, soldier? he'd sniggered, full of himself. Or'd you just cut it out for easy access?

      I'd shoot you for that, Caleb had replied, if I had the lead to waste. Just give me a new pair, or a kit to mend these.

      A particularly hard twist of his gut doubled Caleb over. He clutched at his stomach, closing his eyes against the pain. It was happening now, though the sun wasn't yet completely down; he recognized the symptoms, he could feel his body begin to change. Already his mind roiled with a myriad of scents and wordless images--his heightened hearing categorized each of the soft sounds made by the camp as it settled in for the night, the crackle of firewood as it burned to ash, the scrape of metal utensils on metal bowls, the crunch of footsteps over dead leaves. His altered sense of smell picked out the clean, bland scent of boiling water, the sharp tang of gunpowder, the overpowering man-spore that filled the clearing. Glancing down, he noticed a sudden growth of pale blonde hair on the back of his hand...no. He shook his head to clear it, struggling to hold onto that small part of his mind still human. Not here, not yet, no.

      Suddenly a warm hand clapped his back and he staggered forward, almost tripping over the barrel of his gun. You all right, Cal?

      One of the other pickets--in his current state, Caleb couldn't remember the man's name. Another private, like himself, with a Southern drawl that marked him as a rebel. The stench of his unwashed flesh filled Caleb's animal senses, nauseating him. He struggled for words, and when he finally managed to set them loose, they felt clunky and odd in his mouth. Sick, he gasped, the pain tearing through him now. He had to get away from this man, this camp, this place. He had to get free.

      He took a stumbling step forward and his comrade laughed. Man, not you, too! he chuckled. Must be something in the water here, I swear. Half the camp's out in the woods with the shits.

      Numb, Caleb nodded. Yes, the woods. That was where he needed to be. The trees reached out for him, their limbs stretching to claim him as their own. He felt the leaves on his face like cool hands, brushing the blonde hair from his brow, smoothing over his face, as gentle as a mother's caress. Bent double, Caleb hurried into the woods, eager to lose himself in their depths. He stumbled again and fell to the ground, out of sight from the camp. The hands that caught his weight were now paws covered in fur. As he watched, emotionless, his long fingers shrank into his palms as his nails grew into razor-like claws that retracted. His body compacted into itself, his thighs curving, his feet stretching, his toes

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