|Honest Westerns filled with dishonest characters.|
My beta readers have finished and I've incorporated their suggestions. (Or not, depending on my mood.) Subsequently, I competed my third draft and sent No Peace to my editor. When she returns it, I'll have a final set of red ink to deal with. After that, it's book design and cover. Actually, we started on the cover, but so far haven't made any decisions. Stay tuned.
In the meantime, here's a snippet to whet your appetite.
I thought about all of this and became dejected. “So, all the outlaws in the region have been consolidated into a single gang and the law’s in bed with them. In fact, it leads them. Combined forces of over two hundred. The main culprit is a greedy, duly elected sheriff who fancies himself a dandy, and to top it off, he kills indiscriminately.”
Nelson looked sympathetic. “That’s about it. He likes the high-life, controls every outlaw within a hundred miles, and is on the lookout for a big stake.” He hesitated. “One more thing, he’s exceptionally handy with a gun. Also knifes and fists. If fighting’s involved, he mastered the tools and techniques. Worse, he applies his skill with a rage you would never believe until you see it.”
“He sounds crazy.”
“Now, you’re beginning to understand.”
I stood to leave.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Not sure. What do you think I should do?”
“If you can figure out a way to run, run like hell.”
|The Steve Dancy Tales|