Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales again. This week I`ll be sharing excerpts from my 2013 NaNoWriMo novel, Laco Law – The Gnarled Oak. Laco Law is an M/M historical western romance, set in the fictional county of Laco, Texas in 1867.
We have a picture prompt this week so the excerpt is written to reflect the image and must be three hundred words or under. In this snippet, Clayton and Zeke are closer than ever before.
A note for my readers: This is a gay romance novel, and so the romance that occurs is man on man. If this is not your cup of tea, no one will think less of you if you read no further.
As this is my NaNo work, it is quite rough. I do ask that you overlook any glaring mistakes you may find. Please do check out the other wonderful writers after you`re done reading by clicking on the Tuesday Tales link at the bottom. Thanks for stopping in!
The chuck wagon horses were underway, driven by a tall Negro boy with a wandering eye. Each mile added more anxiety. When we slipped through a large gate some ninety minutes later, I was barely able to keep my seat. The boys in the back of the chuck wagon waved at us vigorously. We rode away from them, sending our horses into the shadows as the wagon ambled along the neatly tended drive. The Emerson ranch announced its wealth loudly.
The home itself was spread out like a drunken whore behind a security wall. Wings shooting off in every direction made the house seem as if the owner could not decide which direction to expand in, and so being incredibly rich, went every which way. The clapboards were painted yellow. The edging and shutters white. The front porch spoke of quiet evenings sipping tea among loved ones. The front porch lied.
The drive was lined with torches. The house was brilliantly illuminated from within. Whoever lived here feared the dark. When I put hands to Caldwell Emerson, he would have more to fear than shadows. A sharp whistle pulled me from my cold-blooded fantasy. Zeke had dismounted. I did the same. We gathered our reins and led our horses behind us. The house was surrounded by a large wooden fence perhaps ten feet tall. We slunk around the fence like polecats.
The shadows bobbed about. The rattling pots and pans in the wagon quieted. Zeke and I draped our horse’s reins around a thin sapling trying to grow beside the shaved log wall. Crouched low, we hurried across a wide expanse of open land until we reached the wall of the southern wing. Voices rang out in the night. Angry shouts from adult males. Zeke and I proceeded to the rear of the house, if such a tentacled monstrosity could say it owned a back.
Copyright 2013 ©by V.L. Locey
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See you next week with more from the old West!