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The hot days of summers are slowly departing the nights already have a chill. So enjoy your Sample Sunday and just maybe you'll find a story to take the chill tonight. To catch up: Carla has already fallen into the biker gang the Insurrection's. Hoping Hank will be her Knight in shining armor and extradite her out of the menacing situation.He doesn't have any reason not to. Or does he? "Hey, Tots, let’s have the key to the cleanest bungalow you got out back.” Chapter 5 Tots opened a draw under the bar and pulled out a key. “Number three, been used only twice since the sheets was changed last week. Will that do?” The keys were tossed high into the air. With one hand on the woman and the other free Hank snatched the keys in mid flight. “Thanks, Tots, that’ll do.” Pulling his plaything closer he said to her, “Come on, Princess, you and I got a date with destiny.” No one saw the struggle as Carla tried to the defy him and yank free. It never slowed him down as Hank marched them both out the back door. Outside Hank swung Carla around with his hand still holding hers tight he pulled in behind and yanked her up against his chest hard. Slamming her roughly enough he knocked some of the wind out of her lungs. Carla about to scream her head off for help was stunned into silence when he said, “Princess.” Then laughing he added, “Ah, my little Princess.” Even through the laughter Hank sounded different. He sounded calm, tender and not the least angry. She looked up at him to see if she could tell what made him change his demeanor. What Carla saw was his lips about to reclaim hers. In confusion she let him kiss her as he wanted. It annoyed her to find Hank’s kiss although firm it had a tenderness to it. He didn’t break away. Her breathe changed to a slight panting. Carla began to return he kisses in earnest. “What am I going to ever do with you?” Hank asked when he finally broke them apart. “Let me go, Hank. Please, just let me walk away.” “Well now, my name on your lips don’t sound none to bad to me. It’s been awhile since I heard it from a sweet voice like yours.” Carla tried. Her goal was for him to see the wisdom of letting her go without harming her. Maybe she guessed right and Hank might be her knight in shining armor after all. Hank moved them toward the bungalow. Carla smoothly followed his lead. She didn't really have a choice not to for he still held her hand. “Hank, I knew you weren’t like the others. I want to thank you for saving me from them. I…” Her back was against the door. The hand that held the key now lifted her chin up. “Princess, kiss me again.” Thinking Hank wanted one last kiss before setting her free she put her arms around his neck and pulled his head to met hers. Noses touched a second before the couples lips rejoined in the goodbye kiss. Hank’s body pressed firmly entrapping her as he continued to assault her delicious mouth. Carla was busy deciding if she should run to the left or the right once she was out of the alley between the pub and its row of old buildings that long ago formed a motor court. The key turned in the lock. Carla never heard it. But she did hear him right after he pulled his hot moist lips from hers and say. “Get in.” Carla felt the door open behind her and the air from the closed up room was stale and foul smelling. Fear settled like a knot low in her stomach. “No,” she yelled and raised her free hand the fight him off. With the intent to rake Hank’s eyes out with her finger nails. She froze. “Gee, Hank, you need us to help you get our little friend there inside. We be glad to help with other things too you know.” Carla didn’t need to know who said it. She knew escape with or without his help escape now would be impossible. One of the other three would have her in a heart beat. Taking a step backwards Carla entered the place she feared most. Hank followed her. She moved into the center of the room. Hank flipped on the switch next to the door and a desk lamp across the room flickered twice then stayed on without further ado. I hope you enjoyed the excerpt.
Another Time and Another Place is on sell at Amazon http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006ITFRM8 The price of .99 cents reflects this is not a professional edited story. Lisa thanks you for your visit and asks that you kindly hit the twitter button to let others know about her site. May you have a pleasant day.
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I'm so glad to see you made it here. Come on in. Sit down put your feet up and relax. Your SampleSunday is waiting, so enjoy. Carla is in a fix. After her date starts trouble with the gang in the old bar. The Insurrections decide to get rough. And she needs a hero. Wonder who'll step up to the plate so to speak? ***** Grunger watched the woman on the floor. He headed over to her and knelt down in front of her. His stench brought her head up. One deep breath and she gagged and not unsure if she’d be able to stop there. “You pretty. I want her first. I never get them first.” His voice boomed across the room. Everyone turned giving him their undivided attention. “I want her first. I never get them first.” Grunger repeated as he reached his hand to examine her bruised cheek. She pulled away but only moved a fraction of an inch. Already against the wall Grunger captured her chin in his fingers. He turned her head to the left and back to the right. Carla learned the reputed seeing birds when in pain was true. Carla sat stunned as if hung in a suspended automation. Sally’s high shrilled voice forced her back into reality. “I think that’s a good idea. He’s right you know he always gets everybody’s else’s leavings. Don’t you think he deserves something for his loyalty,” She crooned. Sally’s eyes danced from person to person hoping to get some of the group to agree with her. She was jealous. She also knew as each member passed the piece of fluff on the floor around Snake might just loose some of his interest. Especially, once he sampled what Sally decided to do to him tonight and bring him back into her loving arms. Snake made a move to counter act the damage she done when he saw Sally was getting nods of approval from some of them in the room. “Next you’ll be wanting her.” Snake pointed to Carla still heaped on the floor. He finished, “Next you’ll be wanting her to pick who goes first. Yea, like that’s going to happen. Woman go sit down and shut your trap or I’ll shut it for you.” His fist raised threatening to do just that. Sally still ached from their last physical encounter of a few minutes ago and wasn’t not up to do another battle with him. She cowed and backed away. “I think that’s a great idea. What fun. Go ahead, pick who do you want to spread 'em for first.” Wrangler piped up as he headed toward the woman. “Uh-Ugh, no way.” Snake and Tim answered together. When the banter began to grow loud Grungy stood up and watched the exchange of words. Thinking now was the time to flee Carla inched toward the edge of the bar. The slender boot wrapped with a chain missed her leg but caught her skirt. A second pair of female boots now blocked her way. “Looky here, Chickie, she’s trying to cheat the guys out a fun time tonight.” “I thought I saw that too, Libs. My Dugger don‘t like no body but me, but the others, well they like variety. Every man needs to enjoy himself and let off some stream.” Chickie spoke down to Carla. “And honey your just the ticket.” “Please…” Pleading with the two biker women. Their evil laugh echoed the confirmation they would be not any help to her. Somewhere a bit of stubborn pride made her refuse to let them see her cry and Carla turned her face away. He stood right in her line of vision. Expressionless green eyes stared intently back at her. When Hank shifted his weight to his other leg he let his eyes take in the rest of the room. Tots did the only thing he dared to which was to stand and silently watch keeping his mouth shut. Tim and another man pulled the two girls away. Bending over her Tim said, “Ok, we decided you get to pick. So pick.” By now all four who wanted a piece of Carla stood menacingly close. One of the male voices began to tell her just what they had in mind to do with her. Growing sicker by the minute Carla knew they where losing patience with her. Quickly drawing to a conclusion before the choice would no longer be hers, she spoke. Or rather she pointed. Chapter 4 The room hushed. Every head turned toward the man leaning against the bar as if he had not a care in the world. “You want, Hank. Hank the ugly Hulk.” She hadn’t looked up to see which female spoke. Snake piped up with,“Hank don’t do strangers. In fact I ain’t seen him with a woman since he…” “Shut-up you fool,” One of the gang warned him. Sally still pushing for anyone except Snake to have the privilege chimed in, “She wants him; let him have her. I say. It will do Hank good.’’ He shook he head.“Sorry princess not interested.” Lifting the beer bottle in his hand to his lips he emptied it. Tots choked. He just handed him a new bottle. A smile crossed the man's old wrinkled face. Hank was very interested. Hmmm...wonder just how interested Hank the Ugly Hulk is..? You can hope I let you learn in future sample excerpts or you can leave a comment and get a free me from Smashwords to read the entire story. Don't forget to leave the way to reach you.* leave the comment and then email me at [email protected] your email if you are concerned about privacy. Please be sweet and send a tweet letting peolpe know you stopped by. Thanks, Lisa Day warning: Ps. This is book not professional edited. tenative cover..What do you think of it? Thanks for popping in. In preparation for my new release I have decided to share parts of it it on SampleSunday. Since this still is a work in process please leave a comment. It will enhance the finished product your personal free-back is very important to a writer and your comment just might enhance the finished product. Prologue: The storyteller stood before the small group of The People. They always gathered hear to the things he had to say and learn their history, and future storytellers would one day pass the tales down to their grandchildren. His hair turned gray years ago. Two feathers and an animal tail swung with the breeze near his right ear. No one knew his age. He did not even know himself. Unlike many others his age, this man still stood tall and straight. His skin was dark and weathered like a deer hide that had seen too many rains. The People respected their storyteller and gave him their rapt attention as the he finished his tale. "And...so then once the Hare out smarted the Fox, the Fox realized Hare won. Fox would be again hungry this night in his den." Everyone stirred at once, some laughing, some smiling, and some with hoots of excitement. "Tell us more, Storyteller." Someone in the crowd asked. "Yes, please, please do!" Another voice added. The old man weathered eyes looked though the crowds while he tried to determine the next tale to tell. The young brave Eagle, in the past heard only parts of the story he was about to request, and he wanted to know everything. "Storyteller, please tell us the story of Wolfkeeper's woman they called Ghostwoman," he said. "Ah, yes the Ghostwoman.” The Storyteller knew the tale extremely well. Parts of it he had never, nor would he ever, repeat. These parts remained locked deep in his heart, and they would stay there forever. But, he would tell it. Enough so those listening would learn what personal sacrifice and love can mean. "Some would say it was a very sad story, my son. Are you ready for tears? Others would say that it tells of the great love that a mother holds for her child. Then other might it's about a brave warrior that followed his heart.I will tell you of Wolfkeeper's Ghostwoman, and you can decide for yourself." A hush settled over his audience, the old man continued, "The day promised to be the most beautiful, so far that spring..." Chapter 1 April 1845 “I love spring. It's promising to be a beautiful day.” Cassie declared for her ears only as she stepped outside onto her porch. It was a promise that would soon be broken. Cassie leaned against the doorframe of her five-month-old split log cabin. Unconsciously, she wiped her hands on the sides of her apron trying to remove the last traces of flour that remained from the preparation of the biscuits, she just pulled from the oven. Her eyes squinted when the sun's glaring rays hit her face, instinctively her left hand rose to shield her light brown eyes. “Breakfast." Waving, her hand to get their attention. She was aware they were still too far away to know what she said. They both waved back picking up their pace. She knew they understand her. reakfast now waited inside for her husband and their neighbor. All that remained was to get their attention. She observed two figures moving at the bottom of the gully her husband Frank and neighbor Todd. They started to scramble up the slope toward the one room home. The two men had been up before dawn, fixing Frank Clark's pigpen, again. One of the little creatures was an escape artist. This was the third time it had broken out. Fortunately, it did not ramble too far away. The pigsty, now repaired with the animals secured, everyone hoped for the last time. The friends were ready for their well-earned breakfast. "Frank, your wife sure can cook. I can smell her biscuits and bacon from here. Wanna race?" "When we first got hitched all she did was burn water. Thanks to Mary Lou and your Becky, I am a well-fed, happy man... One, two, three, Go!" Cassie smiled when the two grown men started running. On seeing them scramble breathlessly up the hill apparently another contest had begun. At first, they ran neck and neck then suddenly, Todd fell. She started to laugh thinking he decided to be funny. When Todd didn't rise to continue the race, Cassie grew a little concerned if he had injured himself. She heard Frank shout something at her. Her husband now began to move faster up the hill toward their cabin. He collapsed not twenty feet from her, his arm reaching out in vain to warn her. Instantly, the sound of laughter died in her throat. She watched a red stain spread rapidly across the back of her husband's blue-checkered shirt. Three arrows protruded from his back as he lay unnaturally still. The noise became deafening. ........ ******************************* Let me repeat a big thank you for your time. Hope you enjoyed and return for more--next time. Please send a tweet to a friend about SampleSunday. Have a great Day, Lisa WELCOME BACK. It's been awhile. "The Stepbrothers" are back with a whole new look. Last month, it was re-released as a self-published book and offered at much lower price. Clint's childhood friend Mac has not been able convince Clint needs to let go of his revenge plans for his stepbrother George. Samantha, however, has her own plans for Clint. *** Clint’s journey proved successful. Soon the day he lived for would be here. Jerking on the reins, he halted his horse. Shots. He heard shots and they came from the direction he was heading. With a quick tug, the horse lunged forward.
He rode post haste straight ahead and entered the yard. The hint of color catching his eye was what led him to see his best friend hugging his woman. Only she isn‘ t your woman, she’s George’s woman. He dismounted and strolled up to them. Once he figured out why they were shooting, he was livid. “Mac, what the hell you two doing?” “What does it look like you fool, anybody with eyes can see. I’m teaching Samantha to defend herself.” Clint never heard all that Mac had to say. He was too busy. Busy watching the revolver now pointed at his chest. He recognized her resolve. In another second Samantha would be pulling the trigger. He closed his eyes. The sound of the gun firing rang through his ears as he waited for the impact. It never came. Mac, realizing what she intended, slammed his arm against her changing the direction of the bullet. “Sam, honey, you have got to be more careful. You could’ve…” The saddest look Clint ever seen, shown in Mac’s eyes at that moment when he understood her reasons yet he couldn’t find it in his heart to blame her. Clint, realizing he hadn’t been shot, now swaggered over to her. She, without any hint of remorse, lifted her head to look at him. He slapped her hard across the face. “Bitch!” “Now, Clint…” Mac started but never got to finish. “Mac, you seem to forget she belongs to me.” Clint swung at him. Stunned, Samantha piped in with, “I belong…I belong to you? Who do you think…” There was no reason to finish the men were too busy fighting each other to be bothered listen to her. The two men smashed into each other, rolling in the dirt. The last punch knocked Mac down hard, and it was taking a few moments for him to get back up when Samantha turned, picked up her skirt and went running toward the house. “She ain’t your girl, Clint,” Mac told him all but surrendering the fight to him. Clint decided not to continue fighting his friend and dusted himself off. That statement knocked the wind out of him faster and harder than any punch Mac could have delivered. “Where’d she go?” The man on the ground extended a hand up. “Help me up, Clint.” Clint extended a hand then Mac’s fist connected with his chin. He winced and fell to the ground sprawled out in the dirt semiconscious. Mac bent over, picked up his hat, and dusted it off by slamming it against his right leg. He shook his head in disgust and walked with determination back to the house. He caught up to Samantha when she was halfway up the stairs. “Are you alright?” he asked stopping behind her. “Why did you have to stop me?” “Sam, honey, you’re not being rational.” “Rational? Rational. You call what he done to me rational?” She took a step up and stopped then turned to face him. “Maybe you’re both needing to be shot if you feel like him.” Mac gasped when he saw Clint’s hand print was still visible, red against the pale white skin of her left cheek. He stuttered and his shoulders sagged in embarrassment at their actions and how she suffered because of them. He stopped three steps below her, unable to find the right words. “Maybe you’re right.” With that Samantha sped up the remaining stairs and slammed the door behind her. Mac swung around and headed back down. With the release of a deep breath full of disgust, not only for Clint’s behavior, but also for his own, he decided he needed a stiff drink and automatically searched out the sitting room for a fresh bottle of whiskey. Minutes later, the glass about to be lifted to his mouth would be number three. That’s when Clint finally made an appearance. Taking in how rough he looked, instead of swigging it down himself, he passed it to his friend. “Not sure which of us look worse for wear, but here.” The man standing before him with the eye turning black and blood still oozing from his nose, wordlessly accepted the offering throwing his head back and consuming the fiery liquid. “Does it hurt?” Mac asked wincing once he had a better look at what he did to his friend’s face. “Of course, it hurts. You fool, ever try drinking with a split lip. It burns like hell.” “Where is she?” “Upstairs…Why? You need to slap her around some more?” On Sale Now.. http://www.amazon.com/The-Stepbrothers-book/dp/B0091K6NTM/ref=la_B005W6EXGY_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1347129777&sr=1-1#_ Thank you for stopping by, Lisa Day Wow Wow.... The Stepbrothers first review is in...Thank you- Mollie Reviews. "Lisa Day has REMARKABLE talent! " Here's where to read the rest. http://ow.ly/831mh The Excerpt: Piercing sounds reverberated across the station as metal wheels strained and scraped against the railroad tracks while the massive machine chugged slowly to its final stop. The noise of Engine number 134, built only a year earlier in 1867, was jarring. The engineer released the engine’s stream pressure which formed white clouds mixed with the black soot laden smoke the engine emitted. This only added to the picture as excited passengers rushed to disembark and others tried to climb aboard to take their places. No one paid attention to Clint Hawks leaning against the crates piled near the corner of the railway station's building, which was how he wanted it. Even with a good, healthy stare anyone would assume he was just another wrangler fresh in from the last cattle drive. “Geesh, he sure can pick 'em,” Clint mumbled under his breath. Straightening up, he spit and headed into the crowd. He walked toward a young woman who’d just disembarked the train and began walking down the station’s long wooden platform. She was occupied with jostling through the crowd as he came up behind her, picking up his pace and leaning around her to gain her attention. “Miss Culpepper?” he said. She stopped short and Clint mimicked her movement. Her nervousness showed as her eyes searched the crowd looking for a champion if needed. Finding none, she straightened her back and stared eye to eye with the stranger. “Yes? Do I know you?” “No ma'am. But I’d know you anywhere. The boss, I mean Mr. Keever, sent me to fetch ya.” He tipped his hat to the woman. “Oh? He’s not meeting me in Madison like he told me?” “Ah, no ma’am. His plans changed. Some’n ‘bout rustlers.” Clint’s gaze danced back and forth between her innocent looking eyes and the strands of reddish brown hair that had come loose from her hair restraints to blow freely in the breeze. A vision of innocence...stay focused. Pushing the wild strands of hair from her cheek for the third time, she asked, “Am I supposed to wait here then?” “Ah, no ma'am. I'm supposed to escort you to him.” Her nose lifted and she stood a bit taller. “Well ah, what did you say your name was?” “Sorry, ma'am. I didn’t.” He tipped his hat again with a slight bow.“It’s Clint ma'am, Clint Hawks.” “Well, Mr. Clint Hawks, my chaperone fell ill during the last meal stop and had to be taken to the doctor there. She’ll join me in a few days if able to. I came on alone since this would be the last stop before I reached Madison. I’m not sure if I should….” “Ma’am, you know the boss, he felt he could trust me with you. Don’t you think you should trust his judgment, too?” Clint cut her off and held his hat pitiful like against his belly. With his eyes pleading for her understanding he continued. “This is the west, who would protect you better from danger—your chaperone, or a man like me and my gun?” “Mr. Hawks, I see your point. My fiancé has my full trust. Shall we go?” Not too shabby for a day’s work. No chaperone to get rid of and now my dear stepbrother’s fiancé is clinging to my arm. You're a devious skunk Clint. He nodded and tipped his hat to the strangers passing by as if they were taking an afternoon stroll together. “Sorry, ma'am. I didn’t.” He tipped his hat again with a slight bow.“It’s Clint ma'am, Clint Hawks.” “Well, Mr. Clint Hawks, my chaperone fell ill during the last meal stop and had to be taken to the doctor there. She’ll join me in a few days if able to. I came on alone since this would be the last stop before I reached Madison. I’m not sure if I should….” “Ma’am, you know the boss, he felt he could trust me with you. Don’t you think you should trust his judgment, too?” Clint cut her off and held his hat pitiful like against his belly. With his eyes pleading for her understanding he continued. “This is the west, who would protect you better from danger—your chaperone, or a man like me and my gun?” “Mr. Hawks, I see your point. My fiancé has my full trust. Shall we go?” Not too shabby for a day’s work. No chaperone to get rid of and now my dear stepbrother’s fiancé is clinging to my arm. You're a devious skunk Clint. He nodded and tipped his hat to the strangers passing by as if they were taking an afternoon stroll together. ***Here's the to purchase links: allromancehttp://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thestepbrothers-615564-148.html B&N Nookhttp://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/stepbrothers-lisa-day/1106674658?ean=2940013311145&itm=3&usri=lisa%2bday Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Lisa-Day/e/B005W6EXGY/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1 Have a super day. I know I am! Lisa The Excerpt: Piercing sounds reverberated across the station as metal wheels strained and scraped against the railroad tracks while the massive machine chugged slowly to its final stop. The noise of Engine number 134, built only a year earlier in 1867, was jarring. The engineer released the engine’s stream pressure which formed white clouds mixed with the black soot laden smoke the engine emitted. This only added to the picture as excited passengers rushed to disembark and others tried to climb aboard to take their places. No one paid attention to Clint Hawks leaning against the crates piled near the corner of the railway station's building, which was how he wanted it. Even with a good, healthy stare anyone would assume he was just another wrangler fresh in from the last cattle drive. “Geesh, he sure can pick 'em,” Clint mumbled under his breath. Straightening up, he spit and headed into the crowd. He walked toward a young woman who’d just disembarked the train and began walking down the station’s long wooden platform. She was occupied with jostling through the crowd as he came up behind her, picking up his pace and leaning around her to gain her attention. “Miss Culpepper?” he said. She stopped short and Clint mimicked her movement. Her nervousness showed as her eyes searched the crowd looking for a champion if needed. Finding none, she straightened her back and stared eye to eye with the stranger. “Yes? Do I know you?” “No ma'am. But I’d know you anywhere. The boss, I mean Mr. Keever, sent me to fetch ya.” He tipped his hat to the woman. “Oh? He’s not meeting me in Madison like he told me?” “Ah, no ma’am. His plans changed. Some’n ‘bout rustlers.” Clint’s gaze danced back and forth between her innocent looking eyes and the strands of reddish brown hair that had come loose from her hair restraints to blow freely in the breeze. A vision of innocence...stay focused. Pushing the wild strands of hair from her cheek for the third time, she asked, “Am I supposed to wait here then?” “Ah, no ma'am. I'm supposed to escort you to him.” Her nose lifted and she stood a bit taller. “Well ah, what did you say your name was?” “Sorry, ma'am. I didn’t.” He tipped his hat again with a slight bow.“It’s Clint ma'am, Clint Hawks.” “Well, Mr. Clint Hawks, my chaperone fell ill during the last meal stop and had to be taken to the doctor there. She’ll join me in a few days if able to. I came on alone since this would be the last stop before I reached Madison. I’m not sure if I should….” “Ma’am, you know the boss, he felt he could trust me with you. Don’t you think you should trust his judgment, too?” Clint cut her off and held his hat pitiful like against his belly. With his eyes pleading for her understanding he continued. “This is the west, who would protect you better from danger—your chaperone, or a man like me and my gun?” “Mr. Hawks, I see your point. My fiancé has my full trust. Shall we go?” Not too shabby for a day’s work. No chaperone to get rid of and now my dear stepbrother’s fiancé is clinging to my arm. You're a devious skunk Clint. He nodded and tipped his hat to the strangers passing by as if they were taking an afternoon stroll together. “Sorry, ma'am. I didn’t.” He tipped his hat again with a slight bow.“It’s Clint ma'am, Clint Hawks.” “Well, Mr. Clint Hawks, my chaperone fell ill during the last meal stop and had to be taken to the doctor there. She’ll join me in a few days if able to. I came on alone since this would be the last stop before I reached Madison. I’m not sure if I should….” “Ma’am, you know the boss, he felt he could trust me with you. Don’t you think you should trust his judgment, too?” Clint cut her off and held his hat pitiful like against his belly. With his eyes pleading for her understanding he continued. “This is the west, who would protect you better from danger—your chaperone, or a man like me and my gun?” “Mr. Hawks, I see your point. My fiancé has my full trust. Shall we go?” Not too shabby for a day’s work. No chaperone to get rid of and now my dear stepbrother’s fiancé is clinging to my arm. You're a devious skunk Clint. He nodded and tipped his hat to the strangers passing by as if they were taking an afternoon stroll together. *** I hope you enjoyed and will return for more. The Stepbrothers will be available to purchase on Oct 17th at Rebel Ink Press This is your new blog post. Click here and start typing, or drag in elements from the top bar.
This is your new blog post. Click here and start typing, or drag in elements from the top bar. Ever have date go from bad to worse? Then you can understand Carl's problem. However, let's hope your's never turned this bad. Chapter 1 Only one person witnessed the scene. Strangers would have found the antics of the screaming man humorous. The man hopped up and down while his arms waved around wildly around him. Vile obscenities spilled forth from his lips. Lips that now firmed an ugly menacing sneer. It didn’t matter how Fred danced or how crude he spoke to the automobile, he’d been standing in front of, it refused to start. Marching back to the driver side Fred jerked opened the door and slid in behind the wheel and gave one last fist slam against the wheel. Pinched lips now white from the pain the action caused him radiated up his arm. Fred being in his own mind the ideal macho man remained silent for the sake of his audience. “Feel better now?” A soft feminine voice asked. The voice belonged to the only person watching the angry display. A deep groan emitted from him as Fred realized the last person on earth he could want to see him act as he did had done just that. Hoping to recover from what was turning into the worst date ever. Fred realized trying to salvage this day was a lost cause. “I don’t usually get so riled…It…It was that I was so disappointed to break down and ruin our time together.” The words rang false even to him Fred had not bothered to look at Carla when he spoke to her. This gave her the chance to roll her eyes and think. This date was in ruins the minute I broke down and said yes. Using her sweet voice Carla said, “No problem, things like this happen. Tomorrow we’ll be laughing about it.” Almost in a totally calm state, Fred retrieved his cell phone from his pocket and searched through his call list for the number of his motor club. Three @#$!’s later, he called his brother-in-law. “Ya, I didn’t mail the payment early enough. So, can you at least come get us? I’ll make arrangements for the car tomorrow.” Fred didn’t bother to hide the pleading tone on his voice. Carla’s eyes began to rolled back into her head again as her lips silently formed her own @#!, when she learned they would have a two hour wait. With nervous eyes she looked around. They were in the seedy part of town and the sun was slipping fast behind the mountains in the distant west. “Fred, maybe we need to walk up to that sign that’s flashing—food and eats. It might be safer.” Safer for you maybe. But what about my car. When he did speak to Carla he said. “Maybe you have a point and I am thirsty and could use something to drink.” At five thirty in the afternoon, Pete’s Bar & Grill was almost empty. Only one other couple sat inside. They were half hidden as they sat in the booth in the corner. They had no problem with the location because that is exactly how the couple wanted it. The center of the eating area contained four tables each with four chairs. The room was outlined with six booths. Booths that had seen their day. It was easy to tell. Gray duck tape covered more of the seats and back cushions then the original red vinyl. A dust ridden ceiling fan hung over the four tables and being off balance it made tic-tic sounds as the blades whirled around. Even with the ceiling ten foot high, not a few people ducked while taking their seats and a few less brave souls moved from the tables to a gray and red booths when they noticed not only the noise but the precariously wobbling unit spinning over head. “Sit here and I’ll get us a couple a drinks.” Fred said, leaving Carla to choose which side of the booth she’d prefer. She slid in on the side which put her facing the door. She turned and watched Fred lean against the bar as he talked with the man standing behind it. Carla realized the place was nothing more of an old run down local pub. A pub that seen it’s hay-day a long time ago. “Two colas please, Pete.” Fred ordered acting like he was a regular. “Name ain’t Pete. Pete was here two owners ago. Lucky Pete sold out and took off for Florida. Before anyone knew the new interstate would kill this part of town. Me, they call me Tots”The man behind the bar informed Fred. It was the disgusted sounding tone in the tired man’s voice that Fred sympathized with. “On second thought make that one cola and one large beer. What ever you have on tap.” Fred’s attention moved to the cockroach that crawled out from under the bar-mop placed at the end of the bar when he heard the man snicker. “Got no tap. Cans and bottles only.” The bartender quickly sizing the man in front of him up. Rushed on to say. “I got a local micro-brew and a man with your tastes should appreciate.” Tots turned and leaned into the cooler pulling up a long necked bottle. Popping the cap, he placed it on the counter in front of Fred. Tot’s smiling and friendly face forgot to tell Fred the beer he was about to drink was eight-fifty a bottle. He pulled his wallet out and heard Tots said, “Oh no, you can just run a tab.” “Gee thanks, Tots.” Mumbled from under Fred’s breath as he turned and searched out the booth Carla had chosen. The people inside the bar heard the noise as the motorcycle rumble came to a stop outside. The screen door squeaked as it was pulled open. “Here’s your cola. And can you believe it this dump carries micro-brews. I can really get into this.” Standing in such a way Fred blocked Carla’s view and she couldn’t see who entered. Once who ever had entered moved to the bar out of her sight. Not realizing Carla was as thirsty as Fred until the cold sweat covered glass in front of her called her name and demanded her immediate attention. The new comer was all but forgotten. With each swallow of the icy cold drink washing down her throat different emotions wash through her. The first was disgust. Disgust for her stupidity for agreeing to this date. Disgust for her own lack of courage in not saying no after lunch and agreeing to go for a drive to see the new county court house three counties away. Next week the town would be packed with tourists, thrill seekers, and news-people when the trial of the century would be taking place there. Thanks to a change of venue from a city in the southern part of the state. Gruesome murder trials drew the crowds from miles around. “Now, who cares about a stupid court house?” Carla muttered under her breath. Answering herself. “Not me, anymore.” “What? Carla.” “Huh? Oh, nothing, nothing.” She replied not even lifting her head up to look at him. All conversation stopped between them two drinks earlier. Now with him having consumed four beers he just glared at her as if everything was her fault. Carla passed the time by picking at her finger nail polish and she picked all but one finger free of the ice pink polish off. A worrisome look crossed her face realizing once the last finger was clean she have nothing to occupy her attention. Which meant she have to begin to talk to the man across the table from her. Movement from the booth with the couple in it caught her eye. Grabbing her purse and shimming out of the booth seat. The woman across the room stood and moved to the restroom. When she returned she gave Carla another thing to do besides talking to Fred. “Excuse me. I need to go power my nose.” She laughed thankfully that she found a reprieve from his person. Fred laughed because he knew nothing else to do. That’s when she saw him. Chapter 2.................. Another Time & Another Place is only .99cents on Smashwords* http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/11131 Thank you for coming. See you next time. *Since this is a self-published books warning is it not professionally edited.* Thank you for swinging by today. While your here how about adding yourself to the blog follow section on your right. Hope your enjoying the adventures of Emily. CHAPTER 2 The three men and a woman found the camp without any trouble. “Whoa there, Shorty, you be a sight for these here eyes thought you were dead n’ buried in Kansas,” Mac’s greeted the group riding in. “Well, Mac, you thought wrong. Jim sent us ahead and sent you a new girl. He’ll be here in the morn.” Shorty said. “Put her with the others, by the wagon. You men hungry?” Mac finished. “We sure are!” Jess spoke up. “Well, come on down we got plenty if you’re a bean eater.” They deposited her in the wagon with six other women. With large frightened eyes she watched and listened as the women talked around her. “You hungry?” The red-head, which seems more self-assured then the rest asked her. Emily only nodded in answer. “Clem, bring a large plate over here, this one looks half dead from hunger." The red-head ordered. Emily learned the red-head was named Red and the other girl next to her was named Pearl. The group had been forcibly taken from Vista. A small of town three days north of here. Pearl told her, “Mac, and his cohorts came in the night and rounded up every girl in the place. Then right in front of us shot Evans, the house owner. Shot him clear though the heart, and told us if they gave him or his men any trouble, there would be one less girl making the trip. No, one dared to defy him after that.” Since, they were already in the business, each one knew what this trip meant for them. However, Texas brothels and Mexican brothels were a world apart. Each one of them, had plans to see that their stay in Mexico was shorter than these culprits planned. Which left inexperienced, Emily without any knowledge of how one gets help to escape now or in the future. As the women talked, Emily listened and realized just how innocent she was about the nature of people this ruthless to woman-kind these man were. When Clem handed her the plate of beans knowing she would need strength, not one bean remained when she finished. With a stomach now full she felt braver and started looking around. Mac had only two others with him and the three that traveled with her made six men. What she couldn't’t figure out was why the small group of Indians gathered left of the second wagon were doing there. Apparently, if the girls stayed near they could move about, Emily decided to take advantage of the freedom. She knew to try to make a break now would be foolish with six men plus the Indians watching them all. The man they called Mac, not only looked vile he had a feral stench about him. She wasn't there half an hour when Emily heard a commotion and watched as Mac punched down one of his own man. Emily did not know the reason why for they were too far away to hear what they said, but whatever it was Mac must not have liked it, and he expressed his views with his fists. “Stay away from that one, he likes to hurt people,” Emily looked up hearing Red’s warning. “It’s rumored he cut a girl real bad once, when she refused to do what he wanted her to do.’’ The girl one in the blue dress who hadn't said anything before to Emily added to the warning. Red joined in saying, “Yeah, real shame too, the woman was a miner's wife who got himself shot, and she had two youngsters to feed. Ain’t no other way for a woman to make money in a camp except whoring. She just had been at it two days when that jackal came along. She didn’t know but one way to pleasure a man, and the way she knew didn’t suit him a’tal. So, he carved her up something awful. He don’t used his knife no more since he discovered his whip—just as mean though.” This was just too much information for her. Emily wasn’t even sure if she knew that was all involved in the one way they talked about, no less learned there were other ways too. She did not want to die, but knew she’d never make six months living that kind of life. **** Mac had brought out the whiskey and Jim’s men had taken their share and then some. As darkness closed in on the small group Jessie, Tex, and the other men went in search of a soft place to sleep the alcohol off. Mac yelled, “All right, ladies front and center. This is gonna be your lucky night.... Before you go please send a tweet to share with the world.Have good day.
* the above excert is not professionally edited. Welcome back to another samplesunday excerpt... from a work in progress..The Chosen One... a story of what a inexperience woman needed to do in order to stay alive in the wild west. “I was on my way to meet the man I was to marry. I’ve been a schoolteacher in a very small town in Tennessee. If I did anything out of propriety I would have been fired,” Emily rushing her words breathless and with a quick gulp she continued, “I got no family, my parents died a few years ago, so I had to behave or I didn’t eat. I swear it’s the truth, please.” His weight lifted off her. “ Get up, but if you're lying to me, I’ll kill you with my bare hands, you understand.” She might have been lying about the future husband, but not anything else, so with a almost clear conscience, she said, “I am not lying. I never been with a man.” “We’re moving, and don’t give me any trouble, or I’ll change my mind about it. Let's go.” He mounted and pulled her up behind him. She held on as he headed south again. The three from the stagecoach holdup were already waiting when they arrived and the camp was already. Soon it would be dark. “You made it, Jim. How was the girl? Do we get a go at her tonight?” Shorty asked. Emily 's stomach twisted when she saw him lick his lips in anticipation. “Nobody gets a go at her, Shorty. We’re taking her south to, Mac.” “Now Jim, we always have shared. Why not now you had her? Are you getting soft for the ladies?” Tex asked wickedly. “She ain’t like them others, this here’s a virgin and they get top dollar in Mexico. Mac's already got a few girls ready to head that way, so I figure we need to lay low awhile anyway. We’ll just ride down there with him and sell her there. Ever been to a whore auction? Why they strip them girls naked right there, so you can see what you're buying. Take her and tie her over there and remember I’ll shoot the man who touches her.” Emily would have liked to give them a good fight, but she was too exhausted to even whimper, so she found herself tied the small tree. Thankfully, she thought still remained untouched and in one piece. She had to make an escape, but she knew to try now would be futile, instead she forced herself to sleep. Waking up to a stiff and sore body Emily's morning came too soon. However, what was worse the being tied to a tree was when she realized the man beside was her fondling her and none to gently as he was groped her left breast. She tried to scoot out of his reach, but was unable to move than a few inches. The man reeked of filth, and when he smiled his mouth was full of rotten stubs of what once must have been his teeth adding to his foul odor. Sickened, Emily closed her eyes for an instant when the disgusting man began to drool. “I thought no one was to touch me? Does your boss know what you're doing?” Turning her back to him the best she could in attempt to scare him off. “I ain’t gonna touch you that way, and besides you better be git'ng used to being handled, where your going,” Wiping the drool from he face as he snickered at her. “Yep, you're gonna like, Mexico just fine. You be on your back and spreading for them banditos' soon enough. Maybe, if you're nice to me I’ll be one of your first customers.” He was laughing at her as he spoke and he continued, “Why doing me, might just you remind of the good old school boys back home. I sure will look forward to all them new whoring tricks you’ll be learning.” “Jess, leave the girl be. Now!” Jim yelled. “Till, Mexico sweetie.” Threatening her as he left. They couldn't’t be. Could they? Emily, wake up, their going to sell you to a Mexican brothel. As these thoughts ran though her head, Emily felt true fear for the first time in her life. It paralyzed her. So, when the other man Jessie came to get her she clumsily did as he told her. Placing her on the horse behind him the group again rode south. Riding a few hard hours later they were at a fork in the road. Jim announced, “I got business in the town west of here. You all keep heading south about two miles watch the left side and you’ll see wagon tracks. Mac should be about another mile off the road. I’ll meet you all in the morning. Keep your eye on her or you will answer to me. Now git.” Thank you for moseying in and I hope you enjoyed to visit. The Chosen One willl be out in 2012.
Meanwhile please add yourself to the Network Blog on the right hand side of page. Also please sned out a tweet or leave a comment. Wishng you all a great day. Lisa Day Another Day and another super SampleSunday. If you stopped by last week you know we started excerpting from a 'work in progress' that will be published in early January The Chosen One. Here's a little more information about the story. The synopsis:THE CHOSEN ONE is set in the late 1800's and opens with a stage-coach on its way west being robbed. An unscrupulous bandit man takes notice of Emily, a young woman in her mid-twenty's and decides he can make a profit selling her to a brothel in Mexico. On the journey south his plans for Emily are are interrupted by circumstance beyond his control. Another man will control Emily's future life. They call him Coyote--a renegade warrior with a wildly fierce and ruthless reputation. This weeks excerpt: “Everyone out, nice and easy like and maybe nobody gets hurt.’’ The man with the red mask yelled. The man on the pinto added, “and you two on top, throw them irons down and by quick about it” Two of the holdup men dismounted and started to roughly pull the stunned travelers outside the coach. “Lets have your stuff... real slow like.” The man who spoke reeked of booze, dirt, horse, and a month of not bathing. The cowboy handed over his three dollars and the man holding the bag laughed. “ This work pays better the punching smelly cows all day, cowboy.’’ “Maybe, but you get to live a lot longer.” He answered back. The gentleman who just got paid for selling a piece of land to the railroad people almost refused. A not to gentle hint with the barrel of the hand-gun pointed at his heart motivated him to hand over the nine hundred dollars to the delight of the outlaws. Mrs. Fryer panicked and refused to hand her purse over. The second man on foot quickly yanked it from her hand and backhanded her a sound slap across the face. Causing her to fall. Emily the younger woman immediately went to her aid. “Why you piece of trash! Don’t you see she’s just frightened by you bullies. You had no need to be so rough with her. Here’s mine.,” She threw five dollars in assorted coins at the man causing them to fall to the ground. He greedily bent over and searched the dirt for the few coins. Cursing as he did so. The one who appeared to be the ring leader came around to see what the fuss was about. “Shorty, get that strong box and let's get moving. These people are wasting our time and this is penny ante stuff.” Giving orders as he reached them, he eyed Emily. “Well, well, what do we have here?” She looked about twenty-three, he figured older than most, but still young enough. A fast buck is a buck. He ever so slowly worked his horse up close to her. He never took his eyes off her. Emily felt the hair at the back of her neck tingle. He moved in between the others and the stagecoach. Leaving her now stuck between the horse and wagon. Large frightened eyes watched as his arm snaked out and he grabbed her by her hair, then yanked her up across his lap and saddle. In an instant he rode riding hard, and headed south. *** I woud consider it an honor if you would please add yourself to the follow blog botton.. or like my facebook Page: : https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Lisa-Day-Author-Page/249701868374938 While your waiting for The Chosen One please check out : ck here to edit. purchase links: Amazon http://www.amazon.com/The-Stepbrothers-ebook/dp/B005VQBHCS/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_1 allromance link http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thestepbrothers-615564-148.html Barnes & noble Nook http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/stepbrothers-lisa-day/1106674658?ean=2940013311145&itm=3&usri=lisa%2bday Thank you so much for stopping by ! Lisa Day Go ahead.. you know you want to... send that tweet... Welcome to Sample Sunday. This time I am offering the begining of The Chosen One due for release by Rebel Ink Press in early 2011. I hope you enjoy. The Chosen One by Lisa Day It was only early May. It felt more like late August. The drought of 1860 and it's extreme heat added to the normal discomfort of traveling by stagecoach in this arid part of the country. The road from Austin to San Antonio rutted with the wheel markings of earlier coaches already made the trip unbearable. Today, for the passengers it would be worse. A thick layer of the fine light brown dust, with a hint of dark orange and brown specks settled on everything and everyone in the stage-coach. An older woman, one would guess around fifty year old, was returning from visiting her son in the east. She held a lace handkerchief to her nose trying to filter some of the particles out. There were also two different types of men inside. The man wearing the brown bowler style hat fancied himself a gentleman. He continued to send more sand and grit everywhere as he incessantly slapped it off himself, carrying on as if the annoying dust chose only him land on and irritate. The other man was a cowboy heading to a new job three stops down the line. He just took the fine layer of dust as an expected part of travel in this part of the country. He started to nod off. Of the four passengers aboard, the young woman had already drifted off to sleep and the dust no longer plagued her for the moment. The man handling the reigns slowed the conveyance, eventually coming to a stop. At age fifty-four Buck was an experienced guard. He was riding shotgun today and did not like the look what he saw at all. Stopping in the middle of nowhere was not a good omen. Everyone now aware the coach had decreased speed. Resulting in all the passengers became very alert. “Sam, we got trouble the tree limb blocking the road ain’t right there ain’t no trees for another three miles yet.” “Buck, Buck!” Sam said as he nudged, Buck to look left, “Yep and here it is.” Four masked men, guns out aimed at the driver and mate. Each rider watched with tense alertness as the carriage slowed to a complete stop. Please look for the The Stepbrothers out now! Amazon kindle and Nook and all other formats. http://www.amazon.com/Stepbrothers-ebook/dp/B005VQBHCS/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1318765188&sr=1-3 barnes&nobels http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/stepbrothers-lisa-day/1106674658?ean=2940013311145&itm=3&usri=lisa%2bday Thank you for stopping by. Please send out a tweet before you go. If you'd like you can also follow the blog or leave a comment. Thanks Agian, |
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