About the author:
Keta Diablo lives in the Midwest part of the country on six acres of woodland. When she isn’t writing or gardening she loves to commune with nature.
Keta is a multi-published author in both erotic romance and gay fiction. Her paranormal novel, Where The Rain Is Made, was nominated for a Bookie Award by Authors After Dark. Keta’s books have received numerous Top Pick, Book of the Month, and Recommended Read awards from the top professional review sites.
Welcome, Keta! This is a special Christmas interview. To start off, what are your earliest Holiday memories and/or family traditions?
I remember waking up at about five years of age and scrambling down the stairs. I had asked Santa that year for a special doll and didn’t know if he’d received my message. I was thrilled when the doll was beneath the tree. We have a video of this moment and not too long ago watched it. Wow! Where have all the years gone?
Did you have a favorite Holiday book as a child?
Not a favorite book actually, but my mom often read Nursery Rhymes to me. And she recited poems that she learned from her grandmother. Not too long ago, I made her write them all down so we don’t lose them as the years pass.
I’m sure those poems are precious to you. What’s the best Holiday gift you received as a child?
We had a very good family friend who never married. Every year, he’d come to our home for the holidays. He didn’t know much about children because he never had his own, but he was such a kind person. He bought lovely Christmas gifts, but had a hard time asking the store clerk what he should purchase because he was deaf. Every year he brought me this horrible perfume called Evening In Paris. I imagine he asked and the woman at the perfume counter told him that perfume was very popular. Spendy too. I dreaded opening his gift because I knew what it would be. Mind you, I just didn’t get a bottle of the perfume — I got the whole shebang, powder, cologne, perfume, oil and whatever came in that darn gift box. Then one year he came with an envelope and $100 for me. He said I was old enough to buy what I wanted now and he wanted me to choose something on my own. If I never smell Evening In Paris again, I’ll be a happy cat.
LOL Your family friend finally wised up. Bringing us to the present, what was the best book you read this year?
Spymaster’s Lady by Joanna Bourne. I love this series, but then I’m a huge historical addict. I like her writing and her twisted plots. You never know what will happen next.
What are your favorite books to give as gifts?
I buy books only for my youngest son because he’s a reading fanatic like me. My other two children never open a book unfortunately. I always buy my youngest books on American history, particularly anything about World War II and the Civil War. I can never go wrong if I stay in that category.
What are you reading now?
I’m reading The Bronze Horseman. (Yes, I’m behind on current books). I still have books from last Christmas I haven’t cracked open. Pitiful, I know. Such is the life of a writer.
Too true! What would you like to get from Santa this year?
A mew Kindle.
Me too! What is your #1 resolution for the coming new year?
With all the writing, I lead a pretty sedentary life most of the time. I have to get better about exercise or at least take the time to go for a daily walk. I do walk, but not every day. That’s my resolution.
Thanks so much, Lyn, for hosting me. It’s been a lot of fun!
It has indeed! Now, readers, here’s a peak at two of Keta’s books.
Holding On To Heaven
Western Romance by Keta Diablo
Brothers in love with the same woman—one the father to her child, the other her husband. Civil War has crumbled a nation, and the Dakota Sioux are on the warpath. While the blazing fires of revolt ravage the countryside, twins, Lauren and Sage McCain are ensnared amid the flames of destiny.
Family betrayal, heart-stopping danger and love, a love that crosses all boundaries and forges all cultures.
Setup and Excerpt
High-pitched shrieks reached Lauren’s ears. Warriors raced their painted ponies through the yard with bloody scalps dangling from their spears. The leader stood at the top of the porch steps, his obsidian eyes hard and cruel; his face impassive. Lauren came to her feet, head up, chin out, and faced him.
Dressed in caramel buckskin pants and high-top moccasins, he struck a terrifying pose. A dark blue vest covered his torso, adorned with beads in the shape of an oak tree and acorns. A breechcloth of the same fabric hung from his narrow waist and over his right shoulder, a pouch made of buckskin and porcupine quills danced beneath the glare of the sun. Three black and white feathers stuck out from behind his left ear, lying flat against his shiny, black hair. His dark eyes pierced her with a sinister glare.
She glanced to the rifle propped against his left shoulder, the one he used moments ago to kill Uncle Mason and Aunt Estelle. Their eyes locked again. She trembled beneath his bold perusal but he remained as still as a marble statue. With a flick of his wrist, he set his warriors into motion. Racing toward the outbuildings, they lit the torches in their hands, their bloodcurdling screams bringing Lauren to her knees.
The hostile looked down at her aunt and uncle before capturing her gaze again. Although terrified of the hatchet he lifted skyward, she stepped in front of her loved one’s bodies. She would not surrender to their mutilation, not while she drew breath. A brief flicker of admiration passed through his eyes when he lowered the weapon and gave a brief nod.
Nook UK: http://bit.ly/V991kS
Dark Night of the Moon
Sequel to Holding On To Heaven
Creed Gatlin flees to Arizona intent on wiping out the haunting memories of his brother’s wife. Presumed dead, Brand Gatlin resurfaces and the destinies of those he loves are altered forever.
In a land rife with war and danger, Sage travels to the village of her husband’s People where she’s reunited with the ancient healer, Crooked Back. Devious plots are underfoot and peril lurks around every tree on the long journey back to Full Circle. An unforgettable journey of war, violence, grief and finally, love.
Creed cut across his father’s land and headed south, the closest route to Full Circle. He hoped Lauren wouldn’t be at home when he visited his son today. And he hoped she would. Would he always feel this conflict, torn between love and hate, hope and despair? He longed to see her, yet seeing her delivered unbearable torment.
He couldn’t bypass the pond. To do so would take him miles out of his way. He braced himself for more anguished memories and urged his mount forward. He’d mulled over his options a thousand times in the last few months and the same answer surfaced. In the spring he’d leave Minnesota, journey far from home. He didn’t know his destination, but what did it matter? He’d become an outsider, a man in love with his brother’s wife, his dead brother’s wife. Creed laughed into the cold wind. Both he and Lauren were waiting on a ghost.
The dapple gray beneath him flattened his ears and flared his nostrils, alerting Creed to a foreign presence in the woods. Could be a renegade or a wounded beast. Hell, could be a whirling-dervish sent by Satan. Nothing surprises me anymore.
The horse came to a halt and tossed his head to the right. Creed followed his signal and spied something dark against the pearl-white ground. He pulled his rifle from the scabbard, cocked it and slowed the gray into a foot-dragging pace. He smelled the blood before he saw it. Once a man smells blood, tastes it on his tongue, inhales it, the coppery scent is stamped on his senses forever. He could thank the United States government for that.
Creed dismounted near the body, scanned the woods and prepared for an ambush. He’d heard of hostiles propping a body on the ground and lying in wait for a man to take a closer look. The noisy chatter of the forest told him everything seemed normal. He kept the rifle ready and walked forward.
His heartbeat picked up speed. A familiar wave of knowing washed over him. The hair, the slender body and graceful curves could only be…. “Lauren!” He dropped to a knee beside her and placed his fingers against her neck. Thank God, a faint pulse. A ribbon of crimson streaked her forehead and ran down her cheek. The blood, thickened by the cold, had ceased running long ago. Creed pulled her to his chest and rubbed her arms, hoping to bring warmth to her cold body.
Nook UK: http://bit.ly/UetW75
You can find Keta on the net at the following places:
Keta’s Keep, http://ketaskeep.blogspot.com
Keta Diablo Books: http://ketadiablobooks.blogspot.com
The Stuff of Myth and Men, http://thestuffofmythandmen.blogspot.com
Keta on Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/ketadiablo
Keta’s Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/KetaDiablo.Author?ref=hl
Thanks so much for visiting Lyn’s blog today to read about Holding On To Heaven and Dark Night of the Moon. Check out the Amazon links to read the reviews.
Wishes for a blessed New Year to all,