Spirit Ridge

Published: 05/25/2016










ISBN Digital: 9781509207480
ISBN Print: 9781509207473
Page Count: 318
Word Count: 79840
Rating: Sensual


San Francisco in 1885 is a dangerous place for investigative newspaper reporter Nell Bishop. She’s uncovered a crime lord’s corrupt empire and heads to the Arizona Territories to stop the plan to extend his evil dominion to the West. As a woman in man’s world, she locked her heart to romantic distractions, but could Marshal Sam Tanner hold the key?
 
Sam Tanner fought the visions sent by his Apache blood. They always foretold an inevitable death. Then he dreamed of the coyote with golden brown eyes who warned of a black shadow spreading evil across the territory. Had the spirits linked Sam’s fate to the beautiful woman with the golden brown eyes who stepped off the stagecoach? Can Sam help Nell elude the mysterious dark riders who dog her trail or will the next vision mean death for both?

Excerpt:

Bart reached under his jacket. The gaslight reflected a dull metallic glint. He pulled a revolver from his belt and pressed the barrel against the side of Daisy’s head.

“Don’t be getting no ideas now,” Bart growled. “Don’t bother to scream, neither. In this part of town, screams don’t fetch the law. We’ll finish our business, and you can go.”

Daisy swallowed hard. “You won’t tell Doyle you seen me?”

Bart yanked at the top buttons on his drawers and shoved a hand inside. “I swear. Let’s get to it.”

Daisy peered into his eyes. “Liar.”

Surprise shot through Bart’s expression. “Never reckoned you smart enough to figure the truth. The Mick’s reward ain’t for fetching you alive.” His tongue flicked in and out again. “Please me, and I’ll make it quick.”

Tears sprang to Daisy’s eyes. “Sweet Jesus, help me.”

Bart’s callous chuckle encased Nell’s heart in ice. “Ain’t no God nor man gonna help a whore.”

“Get away from her this instant!” Nell stepped into the alley, right hand hidden in the tunic, finger on the trigger.

Bart raised the gun to meet the new arrival. “Where’d you come from? Best be on your way. This ain’t no concern of yours.”

Nell strode toward them through the fog. The gaslight shone on her white wimple and the scapular under the veil.

Daisy gasped. “She’s a nun, Bart. You can’t shoot a nun.”

“Shut up,” he barked, backhanding her across the mouth. “For five thousand, I’ll shoot anyone.”

“Get out of here, Sister,” Daisy moaned. “Please, don’t get hurt on my account. I ain’t worth it.”

“Release her.” Nell’s tone betrayed not a single tremor. “If you beg trouble, sir, let fly. I guarantee you won’t live long enough for regrets.”

Bart’s thumb pulled back to cock the trigger. “Your words don’t cut nothing. The devil claimed me as his own long ago.”

“Then perhaps,” she responded coolly, “the time has come to meet your maker and beg forgiveness in person.”

A shot rang out. Daisy shut her eyes and screamed.

Nell clapped her hand over Daisy’s mouth. “Silence,” she ordered. “No matter what Bart said before, sound can draw interest—and we must avoid attention, now, more than ever. Nod your head if you understand and will do as I say.”

The girl’s eyes went wide, and she nodded. Nell removed her hand. In her other was the smoking derringer. Daisy gasped. “Y-You ain’t dead?”

“Hardly.” Nell’s gaze flicked to the body. “Although, I can’t say the same for him.”

She gulped. “Sweet Jesus, you killed Bart.”

“When justice is done, it is a joy to the righteous, but terror to evildoers. Proverbs 21:15.”

Daisy rose to her feet, gaping at the corpse. “It ain’t that Bart will be missed, but you’re a nun. They’re all peaceable-like. I didn’t think shooting people was allowed.”




Copyright © 2017 The Wild Rose Press, Inc.