View Full Version : Bang! Allison Nordstrom shreiked as a chunk of dirt

April 1st, 2008, 07:07 PM
Hi, here's a fun excerpt from my historical romance short story, Someone to Share the Sunsets. You can find it in the Coffee Time Bookstore.

Bang! Allison Nordstrom shrieked as a chunk of dirt splattered into a cloud of red dust a few inches to the left of her right foot. She dove for the cover of the nearest bush, dropping her small satchel at the edge of the drive. Cautiously, she lifted her head and peered through the scraggly branches toward the porch of the farm house from which the shot originated.
She could see him, sitting on the top step, Colt revolver in hand, a half-empty bottle of whiskey beside his left hip. Dark brown hair hung nearly to his shoulders. He hadnít shaved in days and wore the tattered gray pants of a confederate cavalry uniform.
The white railing which had once charmed the front porch was gone. Only a few jagged spindles remained to jut from the weathered floorboards like stalagmites in a cave.
When sheíd asked directions in Mayville, people warned her not to come. Jackson Cameron was out of his head, mad as a hatter, gone off the deep end. Funny, Allie thought, he hadnít seemed so in his letters.
Bravely, she called out. "Mr. Cameron? Youíre making a mistake. My name is Mrs. Robert Nord...."

Bang! A bullet grazed the side of an oak tree, raining bits of bark down on Allieís little bush. She dropped to her knees. For goodness sake, she hadnít hidden behind the shrubbery like this since she was six years old.
"No mistake!" His voice was deep, his words slightly slurred. Allie shivered. It would have been nice if someone had told her he was a drunkard as well.
"No carpetbaggers allowed! Now get the hell outta here!" For emphasis he fired again.
"But Mr. Cameron, I am not a carpetbagger!"
"Youíre a Yankee!"
Allie wondered what she had been thinking when she decided to make this quick trip. She drew a deep breath

and shouted. "I never would have come if your brother had told me how disagreeable you were!"
"My brother is dead!" Bitterness laced each word.
"I know." Allie yelled back, relieved he had stopped shooting. "Iím sorry for your loss, but Beau was my friend."
There was a long pause. Jackson Cameron grew so still Allie cautiously inched higher. The barrel of his revolver pointed down. He stared at her through the branches of her hiding place.
"You knew Beau?" His drawl had lost its harsh edge. A wistful quality now resonated in the deep Southern tones.
She rose and stepped from behind the bush. She took a moment to tuck a few wisps of blonde hair back under her bonnet and to shake out the front of her dark green skirt. It was a good thing she decided not to wear a crinoline while traveling. Hoops and whalebone would not have worked well for diving into the brush.
"I was a nurse at Chesapeake Hospital near Fort Monroe. I took care of Beau before he died."
For several long, unnerving seconds he stared at her. "Youíre the one who sent me the letter."
"Yes. Iím Allison Nordstrom."
He stood and slid his pistol into its leather holster. With a wave of his right arm, he gestured her forward. "Well, come-on up. I donít bite."

April 1st, 2008, 07:11 PM
Great excerpt.

He went from rough to gentle in five seconds flat! Gotta love that!