Stevie Woods:author of gay romantic fiction

February 23, 2013

Lust in Time Anthology now for sale at ARe Books!

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Lust in Time  

Lust in Time

By: Stevie Woods | Other books by Stevie Woods
Michael Roberts | Other books by Michael Roberts
Landon Dixon | Other books by Landon Dixon
Rob Rosen | Other books by Rob Rosen
Barry Brennessel | Other books by Barry Brennessel
Jeff Mann | Other books by Jeff Mann
Kenzie Mathews | Other books by Kenzie Mathews
C.C. Williams | Other books by C.C. Williams
Kayla Jameth | Other books by Kayla Jameth
Salome Wilde | Other books by Salome Wilde
Tilly Hunter | Other books by Tilly Hunter
Julian Siminski | Other books by Julian Siminski
James Thorpby | Other books by James Thorpby
K. Vale | Other books by K. Vale
&n bsp;   Steve Rudd | Other books by Steve Rudd
Richard May | Other books by Richard May
Published By: MLR Press, LLC
ISBN # MLR1020130028
 

Word Count: 77000
Heat Index    

Available in: Epub, Adobe Acrobat, Mobipocket (.prc)

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About the book

Love and lust through the annals of time, from ancient Israel and Greece and Rome, to the Vikings, the Wild West, Woodstock, and all points in between.

History and fiction meet at the crossroads in these erotic tales of love and lust. From ancient Israel and Greece and Rome, to the time of the Vikings, the Wild West, Woodstock, and all points in between, witness the steamy encounters, lurid battles, raucous clashes, and tender moments of couples who span the centuries. Get swept up in the lives of the biblical David, Emperor Hadrian, barbarians from Britannia, a 19th Century physician, Jewish immigrants, cowboys and Indians, Billy the Kid, Civil War and World War I soldiers, hippies, and so many more, all in search of adventure, passion, and, yes, even fame.

An excerpt from the book

The noonday sun beat harshly on David’s back, drawing sweat from his pores and sending it rolling into his eyes. The lamb lay on a rocky ledge, just out of reach, and bleated in fear of its precarious position. Ignoring the yawning drop below him and adjusting his grip on the spiny juniper branch, the young shepherd stretched over the cliff’s edge. Further… almost… just a… little… more–Yes! Grabbing a hold of the little sheep’s coat, David dragged the lost animal up to safety.

“Off you go!” He scooted the lamb toward the rest of the flock and wiped his brow on his tunic. “And there’ll be no more wandering down the hill!” Retrieving his staff, he returned to the shade of the nearby olive tree and swallowed greedily from his water bladder. He took up his lyre from where it leaned against the tree and plucked its strings, trying to recall the melody he’d been constructing when the lamb went off the edge. Humming to himself, he strummed and began to play.

Rich chords, sounding larger than the small harp from which they sprang, filled the dusty afternoon air. A melody, light and lyrical, intertwined amongst them, cavorting with first one chord and then another. Running up and down scale, the notes floated around him, hanging in the hazy light. The youth’s fingers flew across the strings, dancing lightly over the instrument as they wove the enchanting music. Even the sheep stopped to listen.

Lost in the melodies his hands created, David rocked in the cool shade, dreaming of a place away from his flock. His elder brothers fought in the army of King Saul and, when they visited home, regaled the family with stories of life beyond the dusty confines of Bethlehem. Tales of far-off lands and strange peoples, accounts of great battles against the Ammonites and the Philistines, all fired the young shepherd’s imagination, and he yearned for a life of his own, a life different from the day-to-day stink of sheep.

“David!” A piping voice broke into his thoughts. “David, where are you?”

Letting a final chord fade in the burning sunlight, he sighed and opened his eyes. “Over here, Eitan!” Standing, David stepped out of the deep shade and waved to the young boy who loped gracelessly over the hill top.

“Cousin,” panted the child. “Your father bade me find you and desires that you return home. I’m to watch the sheep.”

“Why? Has some ill befallen him?”

“No! A stranger has come. Miriam says he is from Gibeah!”

From Gib–! Fear for the safety of his brothers clutched David’s heart, making it race. He gathered his staff and lyre and, without a backward glance at Eitan, raced up the hillside to cross the fields with long, ground-eating strides.

O LORD, keep them well! He prayed at he ran, begging not so much for his own comfort or that of his brothers, but for his father’s peace of mind. Jesse’s life numbered four score years and his health seemed to flee from him more each season. A son’s death would surely be his undoing.

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