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WhiteClouder Has Been Busy.

whiteclouderwhiteclouder Member Posts: 10,574 ✭✭✭
edited June 2002 in General Discussion
Haven't posted much here lately because I've had to press on with the second book. It had to be done in time for a conference in July. I'm pleased to say, FINI.

Rosie and St Louis Bob made it to the end. So did the Beast pair. Homer got blasted, as did Debo. Metz made it too but he took off just before the end, with a grave injustice done to him by his best friend, he seeks the solitude of the Black Hills. Our main character is destined to wind up in the White Cloud Mountains in Idaho, searching for his moral center, sent there by his mentors, Capt Rivers and a Shoshoni dreamwalker. The second book is by far the better story. Stay tuned.

Clouder..

Comments

  • Ms. BeastMs. Beast Member Posts: 496 ✭✭✭
    edited November -1
    I am so glad we made it to the end!! I can't wait to read it.......I will have to hold my breath until I get the chance!!

    Good luck with it!
  • mousemouse Member Posts: 3,624
    edited November -1
    Whats the name of your book,the year it's set it, and
    whats it about? I like to read.
  • whiteclouderwhiteclouder Member Posts: 10,574 ✭✭✭
    edited November -1
    I posted a small sample on another board. I'll paste it here.

    The gambler has just dealt a hand of cards and Buell has been waiting to catch him cheating. Here ya go:


    Simon watched Buell's face through the whole sequence and suddenly he had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, the comfortable ease of the evening banished. By the time Lange had finished dealing, Buell's jaw was set in a hard clench. Less than four minutes later Bob was a picture of pent-up excitement. When Amos had failed to open, Buell had, Simon folded a handful of junk and Rosie, Bob and Lange all called. Amos folded. Everybody got their cards and Buell bet ten dollars, Rosie called, and Bob called and raised twenty-five. Everyone's eyes went to Lange. He picked up his whiskey glass and took a sip, then called and raised fifty dollars.
    Buell stared at Lange's impassive face and then slowly pushed his hand toward the pot. "Fold," he muttered quietly.
    "Sumbitch," said Rosie, "you bastards have done it to me once too often." He counted out seventy-five dollars and picked up the stack.
    Simon caught his eye and gave a non-committal shrug as Rosie's face asked the age-old question.
    "*!" Rosie swore. He dropped the coins back into the small pile in front of him. "Fold," he declared, disgust in his voice.
    Bob gave his beleaguered friend a superior smile and dropped his bet, already counted out, into the pot. Then he picked up two large gold coins and dropped them after. "And forty more."
    Simon shook his head as he looked at the beaming face. Bob was as happy as he had ever seen him. Tonight must be the luckiest night of his entire life. Everyone looked at Lange.
    "Must be good," he said with a grin. "Forty more, huh?"
    "Or you can fold," replied Bob. "I would if I was you," he teased, leaning well back in his chair, his hands folded across his belly.
    "Naw, I gotta see `em." Lange nonchalantly tossed the two coins into the pot. "All right?"
    Bob leaned forward and picked up his cards. Slowly, one at a time, he laid down four nines and a seven. Simon thought Bob was about to expire for not breathing.
    "Four beautiful nines, tonight has been my night." The breath Bob expelled was felt a third of the way around the table.
    Simon had a hard time taking his eyes off Bob but finally, along with everyone else, turned his attention to Lange.
    The gambler, the faintest ghost of a smile starting to form on his lips, picked up his cards.
    "If those are four Kings you're a dead sumbitch," shouted Buell. His chair clattered as it tipped over. Buell towered over the table, his face screwed tight in anger.
    Simon felt his groin seize and a cold chill turned his whole body damp in an instant.
    Lange's whole face reacted as he tried to swallow his emotion, his eyes fastened on Buell's gun-hand. "You can't be accusin' me of cheating. I haven't won a decent hand in over four hours." His voice was a lot steadier than his face looked.
    "And you ain't lost one either," replied Buell through clenched teeth. "You been waitin' for this one."
    "Take it easy, Buell," said Amos quietly. He looked up at the angry gunman. "We can easy sort this out."
    "Best move yerself, Amos," Buell said. His eyes never left Lange's face.
    "Now look, I ain't cheatin' nobody." Lange's Adam's-apple bobbed once. "But I'll step out of the game if that's what yer wantin'."
    "I'm wantin' to see them cards." Buell's voice was now low and steady----and deadly.
    "I ain't gonna die over a couple hundred dollars. I'm not gonna touch `em."
    "Then let yer partner do it." Buell's eyes glanced so quickly at Twiggs that Simon almost missed it.
    "Partner?" Amos looked at Simon.
    Lange slowly edged his chair back from the table, the legs squalling in protest. As he leaned forward to get his feet under him, his hand shot into his vest.
    The flash and roar of Buell's pistol blended with the moan of total despair from St. Louis Bob. "Aawwwwhhh." His chair went over backward, spilling him into the floor. In a continuing motion, he turned to get on all fours and scrambled on hands and knees toward the front door. "Oohhhhh gawwwddddd," he wailed, his voice a tremolo of terror.
    Rosie sat immobile and speechless. Simon saw his mouth open and close like a fish breathing. Time slowed. Lange clutched his chest; disbelief mixed with fear rippled across his face. He looked down at the rapidly spreading crimson on his white shirt. His hands tried to contain the edges of the stain and then he gulped as his lungs failed to function. Slowly, as though doing it quite deliberately, he sank back into his chair. His breath now came as short, desperate gasps and the color started to drain from his face. One more look down at his chest, now saturated with blood and he grasped at the table's edge for support, missed and fell forward, smashing his shoulders and head into the table. With one final attempt to breathe, a gurgle, he slumped to the floor, his feet tangled in the chair.


    Clouder..
  • whiteclouderwhiteclouder Member Posts: 10,574 ✭✭✭
    edited November -1
    MS Beast:

    Here's a little snippet for you:

    Amos and Lori watched as Simon undid the straps on one his saddlebags.

    Amos handed him an envelope. "Here's a letter of credit for $4000 on the Mercantile Bank in Cheyenne. They know me so you won't have any trouble. I'd be mor'n happy to give it all to ya."

    "I don't need it Amos." Simon pushed the letter into the bag and strapped it up again. "That's more than enough. I'll be back one day and we can settle up. You know what to do if you hear something different."

    "Yeah."

    "Lori, enjoy your new house. I left it nice and clean for you and Zahn. Maybe when he gets back from the hills he can find something here to keep him busy." Simon nodded at Amos. "Ya think?"

    "Maybe so. We'll look at it."

    "Will you try to keep in touch, Simon?" asked Lori. "I'm gonna miss you something terrible, I just know it."

    "Can't promise. I've got a lot of soul searching to do. You folks won't be forgotten, I can tell ya that." Simon stepped up on the porch. "Give me a hug, Lori." He wrapped his arms around he and held her tight for a few seconds. "You're a real sweetheart and I love you."

    "I love you to, Simon. Be careful wherever you go. We'll wait to hear." With eyes brimming she slowly let her hand drop from his shoulder and then hurried into the saloon.

    Amos stuck out his hand. "You've been a real good partner, Simon, best one I've ever had."

    Simon took his hand and gripped it firmly. "I can say the same, Amos. I'll always appreciate you giving Buell and me a chance. So long."

    Simon climbed on his horse and whistled. "C'mon Spud."

    "Ya take care now."

    Simon kicked his horse into an easy lope and was soon across the river and making his way up the gentle slope to the ridge above Fort Laramie. Beyond lay the Chugwater and Cheyenne, Salt Lake City, Fort Hall and the White Cloud Mountains. Simon could already feel the freedom.


    The End

    Clouder..




    Edited by - whiteclouder on 06/06/2002 14:52:15

    Edited by - whiteclouder on 06/06/2002 14:54:03
  • whiteclouderwhiteclouder Member Posts: 10,574 ✭✭✭
    edited November -1
    LTS:

    Can't get bullz to sign a release form, you know, family secrets 'n stuff. I'm workin' on it.

    Clouder..
  • mousemouse Member Posts: 3,624
    edited November -1
    Great description. He chewed up His face...good stuff
    What's your penn name? My dad and uncle got me addicted
    to penny western's when I was about 15. Louis L'amour, elmer Kelton
    Zane Grey,Dawid Thompsen,Terry C. Johnson...Max Brand, t.v.Olson...
    Like em'all.
  • whiteclouderwhiteclouder Member Posts: 10,574 ✭✭✭
    edited November -1
    Mouse:

    Don't use a pen name. And I hate westerns.

    But thanks for the kind words, it's the only reason I write.

    That sequence takes place in 1872, July.

    I talked to Elmer Kelton at length last year at a writer's conference. Truly, a nice man.

    Clouder...
  • thesupermonkeythesupermonkey Member Posts: 3,905 ✭✭
    edited November -1
    WHAT!!!
    NO AMAZING SUPER MONKY SHERIFFS?!

    Don't worry about the bullet with your name on it, worry about the fragmentation grenade addressed 'To Occupant'.

    Edited by - thesupermonkey on 06/06/2002 15:43:20
  • varmit huntervarmit hunter Member Posts: 1,674 ✭✭✭✭✭
    edited November -1
    Dad gum Clouder,You got me a smelin gunsmoke.

    The most important things, Are not things.
  • BullzeyeBullzeye Member Posts: 3,560
    edited November -1
    Yeah, I smell somethin' alright. And it isnt gunsmoke....

    A troll who can write is still a troll.
  • TLynnTLynn Member Posts: 353 ✭✭✭
    edited November -1
    Very nice clouder as always.

    Glad to see Lori and Zahn made it to the end as well as Bob in St Louis.

    Wish you well at the conference and good luck on getting the book published.

    ps - nice mountain area for the main character to end up in!!!
  • whiteclouderwhiteclouder Member Posts: 10,574 ✭✭✭
    edited November -1
    Bullz:

    I'd have thought yer mom woulda told ya this but,

    when ya kin smell 'im, it's time to change 'im.

    Jist a hint from a friend.

    Wanna Cert?

    Clouder..
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