If you have positive suggestions for my further endeavors, please email me directly at mizging@gmail.com and let me know in private. I'd prefer that method if you have issues with my writing. I have no problem with constructive criticism, but I do take offense to the "snarky" types of reviews readers seem to be leaving these days as they do nothing to help me learn in this process of being an author. Without readers there's no reason for stories, so I strive to bring you the best of me. *smile*
Here's one of my favorite excerpts:
She walked to the counter. “I’d like to look
at some of your sidearms please.”
One red brow arched. “Sidearms? Why Miz
Roselle, what in the world are you going to do with a gun.”
“It’s a gift,” she lied.
Her lips tightened into a thin line of impatience. She hated untruths. Why was
everyone always in her business? First Ty, now Percy.
Men!
Percy moved to the weapons’ display case and
gestured. “We have a large assortment. Will this be on your father’s account?”
“No, I’m sure I have enough money of my own.”
She crossed her fingers and studied the guns in the new-fangled glass display.
“I’d like to hold that one.” She pointed to a
shiny silver revolver.
Percy handed it to her. “It’s a beauty, just
got it in this week. It’s one of those new Colts. A thirty-six caliber. But
depending on who the gift is for, that big ol’ Colt might be a little too much.
You might want to take a look at this new Smith & Wesson twenty-two
caliber.” He gestured to another pistol.
Ellie eyed the blue plated weapon with rosewood grips and wrinkled her nose. “It looks so small in comparison.”
“Yes, but this one is a single action, seven
shot model rather than the old cap and ball design. It’s much easier to load
and fire.” Percy eyed her suspiciously, “Are you sure this ain’t for you Miz
Ellie? If it is, I’m certain you’ll find the Smith more suitable to your
abilities.”
A typical man’s attitude.
Her jaw tensed. When would people quit
treating her like a child?
She held the revolver like an expert,
measuring its weight and overall feel, but eyed the one to which he pointed,
and then shook her head. The Colt was much more impressive. Its heavy weight
wielded unbridled power in her hand. She turned and aimed toward the door just
as it opened.
Ty Bishop.
“Whoa, don’t shoot,” Ty threw up his hands.
His eyes widened. “Is that thing loaded?”
She quickly dropped the gun to her side,
certain her face matched Percy’s hair. “No it isn’t, and what are you
doing here?”
“A better question is what are you doin’ here.
I thought…”
“I changed my mind, if that’s all right with
you,” she snapped. “And why are you following me?”
“I’m not. Your pa sent me to pick up a few
things he ordered.” With a huff, he turned his attention to the clerk. “Are
they here, Percy?”
“Yes sir, Mr. Ty. Got
those nails and rope in yesterday, same time as I got the new Colt Miz Ellie is holding.”
Ellie promptly laid the gun back on the
counter. “I was just curious, that’s all.” She gave Percy a stern look then
walked over to the yard goods.
“But…Miz Ellie, you asked…”
Ellie didn’t want him to spill the beans. “I came
to look at material for a new dress, Percy. You must have misunderstood me.”
“But-but,” he stuttered.
“You asked to see a sidearm.”
She forced a giggle and ignored the confusion
on the clerk’s face. Ellie fluttered her eyelashes at him and waved a
limp wrist in his direction. “Oh, Percy, you silly goose, why would I say that?
I said I need some yardage—just a might longer than my arm. When
you showed me the new guns, I didn’t want to appear rude.”
Thanks for stopping by, and kook for Sarah's Heart and Time Tantrums on their free days next Saturday.
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