One - Opening Chapter
Lilian LaRoche hated
people. She lived in her quiet little house out in the woods for that reason.
She only went into town once a week for that reason. And she kept an empty nest
for that reason.
Everyone knew it, and
nobody bothered her, save for the boy that brought the milk and bribed her for
an hour of her company with blackberry jam. He was her closest neighbour, from
the Hollis Ranch on the east side of her massive chunk of land.
The man that strolled up
the lane with a spring in his step was most certainly not the milk farmer’s
son.
Lilian scowled and
stabbed her pitchfork into the dirt, wiping sweat from her brow. As the figure
drew nearer, she ruled out the overbearing Sheriff of the nearby Lazarus Town.
He was too tall. It wasn’t the rosy-cheeked Pastor Taylor, either. He was too
lean.
She squinted and pursed
her lips as he approached the fence of her horse paddock. She didn’t recognize
the rugged man before her, with the deep-set eyes and wiry curls sticking out
from beneath his dusty hat.
She pointed past him.
“Town’s back that way.”
“Just came from there,
ma’am.” He tipped his hat, and then brought it down, holding it in front of
him. “I’m looking for work.”
Lilian rolled her eyes,
and put a hand on her hip. “I ain’t hiring.” She swept her long sweaty braid
over her shoulder. “Town’s back that way.”
“Just came from there,
ma’am,” he repeated, the corner of his lip curling. “You come highly
recommended.”
She wrinkled her nose.
“Nobody would have recommended me if they knew anythin’ about anythin’.” She
jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. “Next town’s a two day walk east.”
He chuckled, a low
throaty sound like stones rolling together. “You got quite the chunk of land
here, all to yourself.”
“That’s the way I like
it.” She turned back to the hay, wrapping her hands around the pitchfork
handle. She stabbed it into the pile with an air of finality, ignoring his
presence completely.
Or at least, she tried
to.
“The name’s Davien
Stone,” he said, as casual as if she’d invited him to speak.
“How nice for you.”
Lilian tossed some hay into the trough for the horses. Kral gave a chuff as he
wandered over, his chocolate coat gleaming in the late afternoon sun. He
ignored the hay completely and approached the newcomer, presenting his head for
some attention.
Davien grinned at the
horse and stroked his big soft nose. “Hey there, beauty.”
Traitor, Lilian thought as she watched them in
her periphery.
Not one to miss out on
the action, Kwen trotted over, giving an excited whinny as she bumped her
companion.
“Hey now.” Davien
laughed. “I’ve got enough hands for the both of you.” He pet the happy horses
and Lilian avoided looking at him, hoping that if she ignored him long enough
he would go away.
He was still lavishing
attention on the big babies when she left, taking her pitchfork back to the
barn and then heading into the house to make supper.
Two - Kiss Scene
He followed her
directions, parking himself on the stool, the low light from the fire dancing
over his handsome features. She tried to ignore that as she brought over her
washbasin and a cloth, and pulled another stool directly in front of him. As
she settled in, one of her knees on either side of his, leaning in to inspect
his wound, she was suddenly very aware of their states of undress.
Her nipples hardened
beneath her tunic, the fabric brushing against the sensitive nubs making her
want to clench her thighs together. She tried to keep her breathing steady and
focus on her task, but it wasn’t easy. She leaned in and brought the cloth up
to his arm, slowly washing away the blood to reveal the wound.
It was a clean one, just
a tear across his bicep. Lilian couldn’t help but be impressed that Davien had
nary a hiss of discomfort as she washed him.
“Won’t need stitches,”
she murmured, innately cursing the breathiness of her traitorous voice. She
brought the cloth back and forth from the bowl, reddening the water as she
cleaned him of the blood, his and those of her enemies.
He stayed still,
obedient under her care. “Who were those men?”
“How should I know?” she
snapped, jutting out her chin and avoiding his gaze. She took a clean swatch of
cloth and began tearing it into strips to make into a bandage.
“You didn’t seem surprised
they were here.” He cocked his head, and she could feel his eyes boring into
her even as she avoided his gaze. “Not to mention prepared.”
She sighed, stifling a
growl as she began tying the strips together into a long ribbon, one by one.
“Stupid rumours started when my Pa built on this land,” she said gruffly. “For
some reason everyone thought he had gold under the house. No matter how many
times I tell people it ain’t true, bandits keep comin’ for it.” She tucked the
end of the clean fabric over the wound, and slowly began winding it snugly
around his thick bicep.
“Have you checked under
there?” He raised an eyebrow, amusement glinting in his steel eyes.
She deadpanned. “There
ain’t no gold under my house.” She tied the ends of the bandage into a tight and
neat little knot.
He chuckled, and shook
his head. “Well. Thank you ma’am, for cleaning me up.” His voice was low.
“You keep callin’ me
ma’am.” She didn’t know why she said it, but it definitely didn’t have to do
with the fact that she could feel his body heat radiating off of him, that she
couldn’t quite make her legs move from either side of his, or didn’t want to
get up and move away from him just yet.
His tongue darted out,
wetting his satin lips. “You still haven’t told me your name.” The firelight
danced in his molten eyes, mesmerizing.
“Lilian,” she breathed.
The distance closed
between them, hands grasping, fingers threading, arms curling, their legs
tangling as their mouths came together in a flurry of desire, sucking lungfuls
from one another in their need, passing life between them and sending electric
shocks from the top of Lilian’s head to the tips of her toes.
Three - Action
Scene
Something niggled in the
back of her brain, and she pulled her arm from her eyes.
Scrrrrr…
No, that wasn’t in the
back of her brain. Someone was outside. Her knee-jerk reaction was that it
could be Davien, but he had been nothing but gentlemanly since he’d been there,
sleeping in her barn. She had to admit to herself that she could trust him not
to try to skulk into her window overnight. At this point, there was no doubt in
her mind that if he were ready to make a move, he wouldn’t be secretive about
it.
Scrrrr…
She reached under the
bed and pulled out her long-barreled shotgun, creeping silently to the window,
feet flat as she stepped to avoid any creaks or groans. She peered out into the
night, moonlight illuminating the yard in an ethereal glow. There was a flash
of silver behind one of the fence posts, and she pursed her lips at the
crouched figure there.
Fuck. She needed to get to the barn. Out of
all of the things on this land, her horses were what she loved the most, and
she wasn’t about to let somebody steal or hurt them. She waited for the figure
to dart along the fence away from her, and then hopped out of the window into
the grass. She tore across the lawn towards the barn. Gunfire erupted behind
her.
The right side of her
head burned, the whzzzzttt of a
bullet grazing her temple. She kept running, full tilt, even as more guns cracked in the night. She had to fortify
the barn.
Just before she reached
the sliding door, it opened, and she nearly skidded to a stop until she
realized it was Davien, waving for her to hurry. She slid in as the horses
threw up a fuss, jumping and chuffing
and whimpering with all of the out-of-the-ordinary action.
“What the hell is
happening?” Davien slammed the door, jumping back as a wooden panel blew right
off of it.
Lilian reached up atop a
beam in the center of the stalls, and pulled down a second shotgun, tossing it
to him. “I hope you know how to use one of these.” She grabbed down a carton of
shells and slid it across the floor, falling into a crouch.
“What do they want?” He
flicked open the chamber to check it as if it were second nature to him.
She peered through
bullethole in the door. “Shut up and help me deal with them.” She studied the
paddock. “Two behind the fence to the left, one in the paddock, and at least
one fucker shot at me from behind the house. I wanna concentrate ‘em on this
side, keep ‘em away from the horses.”
Davien nodded and
wrapped his fingers around the door, counting down quietly from three. When he
reached one, he threw open the door and Lilian blasted the creeping man in the
paddock directly in the chest. He flew backwards, and bullets peppered the barn
from the other shooters.
The defending duo
whirled around, crouching and pressing their backs against either side of the
doorframe. As soon as there was a break in gunfire, Davien leaned out into the
dirt on his side, aiming high and blowing out a fencepost. He fired the second slug
into the figure that ducked from the blast, a guttural scream cutting through
the air from the impact. The other one behind the fence lunged for his fallen
comrade, and Lilian took the opportunity to shoot, catching him in the throat.
Shouts echoed from
behind the house as they hastily reloaded. Davien surveyed the scene out the
door as Lilian scurried to the wall facing the house, looking between two
warped slats of wood to try to find the source of the yelling.
Two men tore off into
the bushes, and another stood next to the house. “Fuckin’ yella’ bellied
fucks!” he screamed at his fleeing comrades, and then turned around to fire at
the barn.
Davien jumped out of the
door and aimed, the two men shooting each other at the same time. Davien lunged
to the side, clutching his arm, and Lilian fired from right behind him,
catching the enemy in the stomach. He fell back onto his ass, grunting and
spewing blood all over himself.
She ran up to him,
kicking his gun away with her bare foot. She cocked her head, and flipped her
shotgun around, slamming the butt of it down into his jaw, shattering it.
“Think you fuckers can
take my farm?!” she snarled, and
brought the gun down again on the sputtering man’s face.
About Me - Passion Writing vs Work Writing
Hi, I’m Emily! I’m an east coast Canadian and mom of two
little monsters and a toy poodle who is one hundred percent the Queen of the
house. I’m a full time freelance ghostwriter and editor, but I write fiction
under many names all across the internet.
A lot of people ask me how I manage to work on my passion
projects at all after spending all day producing so many words for my clients.
I’ll be honest, it was difficult at first. When I first started ghostwriting, I
dove in with both feet, and booked up fifty thousand words my first month. It
took me a while to be able to really compartmentalize my ‘ghost voice’ versus
my own voice, but once I got into a flow it became easier to switch back and
forth.
Nowadays, I take what I want to achieve in a given month and
use Google Sheets to calculate how many words per day I need to hit to meet my
deadlines. I track my daily words and the sheet will adjust every day so that I
can stay on schedule.
I find it keeps my brain happy to have so many different
projects to work on all the time. If I find I’m getting burnt out on something,
I’ve always got something to flip over to to freshen up that excitement! And
setting deadlines for my personal projects helps keep that fire lit up under
me, too. Gotta keep that creative muscle flexing!
Hi there, thank you so much for featuring my series! <3
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