Fran Shaff's Blog - Posts Tagged "1890s"
"Restitution," Amy's First Drink Excerpt
Running off with a handsome stranger is hardly something Amy McKittrick would do under ordinary circumstances.
Yet, In "Restitution," the second book of the new Historical Romance "Tender Mysteries Series," that's exactly what Amy does!
Excerpts continue with a great one from "Restitution" this week.
November, 1895. Hope Nebraska. For years Amy has been trying to make amends for a crime she’d committed when she was fifteen years old. She’s doggedly, habitually avoided sin since that one infraction, but when Diego comes to town making all kinds of horrible accusations she finds herself lying over and over again. Alone with him in the countryside, on the trail of a thief, as Amy succumbs to Diego’s charms, she feels worse than ever for misleading him, even as she begins to feel whole again by loving him.
(About the “Tender Mysteries Series:” After a flood annihilates a wagon train in 1888, eleven female survivors build a life in Hope, Nebraska.)
Excerpt:
Setup: Amy has hurt her ankle during a snowstorm, and they've taken shelter in a cave.
Diego scooped her into his arms, stood and held her tightly against his chest.
She laid her head on his shoulder and forced herself to remain silent, though the pain coursing through her ankle and leg made her want to cry out.
When he reached the bed he’d made for her, Diego somehow managed to get to his knees and gently place her on the wool-covered pine boughs.
“Dear God,” Amy cried, “it hurts so much.”
Diego quickly covered her with two blankets. He tucked them tightly around her as he’d done with Flossie.
As soon as he finished, he went to a bag of supplies he’d piled with the other saddles a few feet away. He returned momentarily with a flask. He moved the lamp he’d left near Amy’s bed, came close beside her and handed her the flask.
“Drink this. It’ll ease the pain,” he said.
“What is it?” Amy asked.
“It’s whiskey.”
“But I’ve never--” A surge of pain assaulted her again, cutting off her words.
“Please, Miss McKittrick, take a big drink. It’ll burn a little, but you’ve got to swallow it down.”
Amy opened the flask and put it to her lips.
She closed her eyes and drank heartily.
Fire burst inside her mouth, down her gullet and into her stomach.
“This tastes almost as bad as the coffee you gave me this morning,” she said wryly as she struggled to endure the pain of her injury and the burn of her medicine.
Diego smiled at her. “I guarantee it’ll be just as effective, only in a different way.”
He reached for the lamp and took it to the foot of her bed.
“Take another swig of whiskey, Miss McKittrick. I’ve got to remove your shoe and look at your ankle. The more whiskey you can take in before I tend to your injury, the less pain you’ll feel when I examine you.”
Amy took another big drink. She was surprised to find it less offensive than it had been the first time she’d drunk it.
“Take in some more, missy, at least another swallow or two,” Diego said as he sat at her feet.
She drank again. This time she didn’t mind the flavor of the libation at all. In fact, she found it pleasant, pleasant enough to take a bit more.
Diego watched as Amy drank from his flask. He was sicker at heart than he’d ever been, seeing her injured the way she was. Thank heaven he had something to give her to relieve her pain.
“It tastes a li’l better now, Misser Consillo,” she drawled.
The slurring of her words told Diego it would now be safe to remove her shoe and examine her injury.
He began his work immediately.
As he looked closely at her ankle, once he’d removed her shoe, he felt a knot form in his gut. He didn’t like what he saw.
He covered her feet with the blankets and move round her pallet to talk with her.
“Did you fix my ankle a’ready?” she asked when he sat next to her. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. I think you fixed it.”
Diego took the flask from her. He picked up the cap which had fallen from Amy’s fingers onto her belly and returned it to the mouth of the flask.
He lifted the top of her blanket. “Put your arms inside, Miss McKittrick,” he said gently. “You need to warm up as best you can.”
“But I’m feelin’ much warmer now,” she said, smiling at him.
Her smile was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen--but he couldn’t think about her loveliness now.
“I’m glad you feel warmer, but we need to be sure you stay good and warm,” he said, helping her put her arms inside the covers.
“I’m good, Misser Diego, and I’m warm too, I think. And my ankle har’ly hurts at all…I think I could dance, if I wanted to… Do you want to dance?”
If he hadn’t been so worried about her injury, he’d have found her state of inebriation quite humorous.
She pulled an arm from the shelter of her blankets and reached toward him. “I don’t like your brother, Diego. He isn’t a very nice man, but you…you…you’re not as bad as he is, are you?”
He took her hand and tucked it under her blanket. He secured her in her covers so snuggly she looked like a very beautiful, living mummy--even if the description was a contradiction in terms.
He grasped her chin with his fingers. “Miss McKittrick, I’m going to examine your ankle again.” He wanted to see how much the swelling had increased since he’d removed her shoe.
“Okay…,” she said, sounding as though she didn’t care one way or the other just what he did to her.
He moved to the foot of the bed and positioned himself by the injured foot. He uncovered it and examined it. The entire ankle, part of the calf and some of the foot had swollen significantly since he’d removed the shoe.
“Is my ankle alright now?” Amy asked in a dreamy tone.
“Not yet,” he said. “I’m afraid I’ll need to get some snow to put on it to keep the swelling down.
“If you think it will help…”
“I’m sure it will,” he said. He moved straight to the stack of supplies and found the leather pouch in which he carried tools and other items which tended to come in handy when a man rides a trail. He emptied its contents onto the floor of the cave and went outside to fill it with snow. Upon his return he placed the pouch on Amy’s ankle.
“That’s cold,” she said.
He went to her and sat next to her. He took off his hat and gloves and set them next to her pallet. He trailed his fingers over her forehead. To his relief, he found she had no fever--yet.
“Mm,” she said, “that feels nice.”
His belly tightened. He’d wanted to touch her this way ever since he first saw her. She was a striking woman with eyes like emeralds and lips like ripe cherries.
“Mr. Consillo?”
“Yes?”
“My ankle…it’s hurting again,” she said. She began to shiver.
Diego’s concern for her wellbeing escalated. He knew it was necessary to keep a person warm and comfortable after an injury. Her shivering was not a good sign. It could mean a fever was getting started.
Or she could be cold due to the snow pack he’d placed on her ankle.
He went to the supplies, retrieved the last blanket, and returned to Amy’s side.
She was shivering even more vigorously.
He placed the extra blanket over her, but she continued to quake.
The only thing left to do was to try to warm her with his own body heat.
He removed his coat, pulled back the covers and got into her bed with her.
“Mr. Consillo,” she said through chattering teeth. “Get away from me,” she said softly, her voice weakened by the strength of the liquor.
“I’m sorry, Miss McKittrick, but I’ve got to warm you up as quickly as I can. Please, lie still so you don’t disturb the snow pack I’ve placed on your foot. And don’t…don’t fight me; let me warm you. Can you do that, please?”
“Mr. Consillo,” she said, sounding sober, though he knew she was not, “tomorrow, when I’m feeling better, I’m going to slap your face as hard as I can for violating me in this way.”
Her threat sounded quite convincing, yet, he couldn’t help but smile upon hearing her warning. She was no bigger than a sapling and no stronger than bumble bee.
“If it’ll make you feel better, Miss McKittrick, I promise I’ll offer my jaw to you as soon as you’d like to take out your revenge on me,” he said.
To his surprise, she snuggled closer to him. “Why thank you. And, even though it will not make you feel better, I’ll accept your jaw, and I’ll bruise it quite effectively with a swipe of my hand…”
He chuckled as she drifted off to sleep.
She was no longer shivering, but Diego continued to hold her anyway.
He figured if he was going to be properly slapped in the morning by this lovely woman, he might as well earn his punishment by holding her a little while longer.
------------------
"Restitution" is available in e-book and paperback at: Amazon, B&N, Kobo Books, I-Books, and at bookstores and libraries.
------------------
Happy Easter to all my Christian Readers. Best wishes for a wonderful Spring for Everyone.
Fran
Fran Shaff, Award-Winning Author
Fran's Web Page
Yet, In "Restitution," the second book of the new Historical Romance "Tender Mysteries Series," that's exactly what Amy does!
Excerpts continue with a great one from "Restitution" this week.
November, 1895. Hope Nebraska. For years Amy has been trying to make amends for a crime she’d committed when she was fifteen years old. She’s doggedly, habitually avoided sin since that one infraction, but when Diego comes to town making all kinds of horrible accusations she finds herself lying over and over again. Alone with him in the countryside, on the trail of a thief, as Amy succumbs to Diego’s charms, she feels worse than ever for misleading him, even as she begins to feel whole again by loving him.
(About the “Tender Mysteries Series:” After a flood annihilates a wagon train in 1888, eleven female survivors build a life in Hope, Nebraska.)
Excerpt:
Setup: Amy has hurt her ankle during a snowstorm, and they've taken shelter in a cave.
Diego scooped her into his arms, stood and held her tightly against his chest.
She laid her head on his shoulder and forced herself to remain silent, though the pain coursing through her ankle and leg made her want to cry out.
When he reached the bed he’d made for her, Diego somehow managed to get to his knees and gently place her on the wool-covered pine boughs.
“Dear God,” Amy cried, “it hurts so much.”
Diego quickly covered her with two blankets. He tucked them tightly around her as he’d done with Flossie.
As soon as he finished, he went to a bag of supplies he’d piled with the other saddles a few feet away. He returned momentarily with a flask. He moved the lamp he’d left near Amy’s bed, came close beside her and handed her the flask.
“Drink this. It’ll ease the pain,” he said.
“What is it?” Amy asked.
“It’s whiskey.”
“But I’ve never--” A surge of pain assaulted her again, cutting off her words.
“Please, Miss McKittrick, take a big drink. It’ll burn a little, but you’ve got to swallow it down.”
Amy opened the flask and put it to her lips.
She closed her eyes and drank heartily.
Fire burst inside her mouth, down her gullet and into her stomach.
“This tastes almost as bad as the coffee you gave me this morning,” she said wryly as she struggled to endure the pain of her injury and the burn of her medicine.
Diego smiled at her. “I guarantee it’ll be just as effective, only in a different way.”
He reached for the lamp and took it to the foot of her bed.
“Take another swig of whiskey, Miss McKittrick. I’ve got to remove your shoe and look at your ankle. The more whiskey you can take in before I tend to your injury, the less pain you’ll feel when I examine you.”
Amy took another big drink. She was surprised to find it less offensive than it had been the first time she’d drunk it.
“Take in some more, missy, at least another swallow or two,” Diego said as he sat at her feet.
She drank again. This time she didn’t mind the flavor of the libation at all. In fact, she found it pleasant, pleasant enough to take a bit more.
Diego watched as Amy drank from his flask. He was sicker at heart than he’d ever been, seeing her injured the way she was. Thank heaven he had something to give her to relieve her pain.
“It tastes a li’l better now, Misser Consillo,” she drawled.
The slurring of her words told Diego it would now be safe to remove her shoe and examine her injury.
He began his work immediately.
As he looked closely at her ankle, once he’d removed her shoe, he felt a knot form in his gut. He didn’t like what he saw.
He covered her feet with the blankets and move round her pallet to talk with her.
“Did you fix my ankle a’ready?” she asked when he sat next to her. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. I think you fixed it.”
Diego took the flask from her. He picked up the cap which had fallen from Amy’s fingers onto her belly and returned it to the mouth of the flask.
He lifted the top of her blanket. “Put your arms inside, Miss McKittrick,” he said gently. “You need to warm up as best you can.”
“But I’m feelin’ much warmer now,” she said, smiling at him.
Her smile was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen--but he couldn’t think about her loveliness now.
“I’m glad you feel warmer, but we need to be sure you stay good and warm,” he said, helping her put her arms inside the covers.
“I’m good, Misser Diego, and I’m warm too, I think. And my ankle har’ly hurts at all…I think I could dance, if I wanted to… Do you want to dance?”
If he hadn’t been so worried about her injury, he’d have found her state of inebriation quite humorous.
She pulled an arm from the shelter of her blankets and reached toward him. “I don’t like your brother, Diego. He isn’t a very nice man, but you…you…you’re not as bad as he is, are you?”
He took her hand and tucked it under her blanket. He secured her in her covers so snuggly she looked like a very beautiful, living mummy--even if the description was a contradiction in terms.
He grasped her chin with his fingers. “Miss McKittrick, I’m going to examine your ankle again.” He wanted to see how much the swelling had increased since he’d removed her shoe.
“Okay…,” she said, sounding as though she didn’t care one way or the other just what he did to her.
He moved to the foot of the bed and positioned himself by the injured foot. He uncovered it and examined it. The entire ankle, part of the calf and some of the foot had swollen significantly since he’d removed the shoe.
“Is my ankle alright now?” Amy asked in a dreamy tone.
“Not yet,” he said. “I’m afraid I’ll need to get some snow to put on it to keep the swelling down.
“If you think it will help…”
“I’m sure it will,” he said. He moved straight to the stack of supplies and found the leather pouch in which he carried tools and other items which tended to come in handy when a man rides a trail. He emptied its contents onto the floor of the cave and went outside to fill it with snow. Upon his return he placed the pouch on Amy’s ankle.
“That’s cold,” she said.
He went to her and sat next to her. He took off his hat and gloves and set them next to her pallet. He trailed his fingers over her forehead. To his relief, he found she had no fever--yet.
“Mm,” she said, “that feels nice.”
His belly tightened. He’d wanted to touch her this way ever since he first saw her. She was a striking woman with eyes like emeralds and lips like ripe cherries.
“Mr. Consillo?”
“Yes?”
“My ankle…it’s hurting again,” she said. She began to shiver.
Diego’s concern for her wellbeing escalated. He knew it was necessary to keep a person warm and comfortable after an injury. Her shivering was not a good sign. It could mean a fever was getting started.
Or she could be cold due to the snow pack he’d placed on her ankle.
He went to the supplies, retrieved the last blanket, and returned to Amy’s side.
She was shivering even more vigorously.
He placed the extra blanket over her, but she continued to quake.
The only thing left to do was to try to warm her with his own body heat.
He removed his coat, pulled back the covers and got into her bed with her.
“Mr. Consillo,” she said through chattering teeth. “Get away from me,” she said softly, her voice weakened by the strength of the liquor.
“I’m sorry, Miss McKittrick, but I’ve got to warm you up as quickly as I can. Please, lie still so you don’t disturb the snow pack I’ve placed on your foot. And don’t…don’t fight me; let me warm you. Can you do that, please?”
“Mr. Consillo,” she said, sounding sober, though he knew she was not, “tomorrow, when I’m feeling better, I’m going to slap your face as hard as I can for violating me in this way.”
Her threat sounded quite convincing, yet, he couldn’t help but smile upon hearing her warning. She was no bigger than a sapling and no stronger than bumble bee.
“If it’ll make you feel better, Miss McKittrick, I promise I’ll offer my jaw to you as soon as you’d like to take out your revenge on me,” he said.
To his surprise, she snuggled closer to him. “Why thank you. And, even though it will not make you feel better, I’ll accept your jaw, and I’ll bruise it quite effectively with a swipe of my hand…”
He chuckled as she drifted off to sleep.
She was no longer shivering, but Diego continued to hold her anyway.
He figured if he was going to be properly slapped in the morning by this lovely woman, he might as well earn his punishment by holding her a little while longer.
------------------
"Restitution" is available in e-book and paperback at: Amazon, B&N, Kobo Books, I-Books, and at bookstores and libraries.
------------------
Happy Easter to all my Christian Readers. Best wishes for a wonderful Spring for Everyone.
Fran
Fran Shaff, Award-Winning Author
Fran's Web Page
Liza's Trouble in "Recruited"
Book Four of the Tender Mysteries Series of Inspirational Historical Romance features Liza Green and Antonio Black. This book will be available in e-book and paperback in early June.
June, 1896: Liza’s accused of stealing fifteen hundred dollars, and Antonio seems to be the only person who can help her out of the mess she’s in--even though she doesn’t exactly trust the handsome private investigator.
Antonio believes Liza is as guilty as the prosecutor says she is, but, having been instantly smitten with the beautiful woman, he wants more than anything to find a way to get her acquitted of the charges against her.
Antonio devises a plan to prove Liza’s innocence by trying to connect the missing money to a ring of pickpockets who have been operating in eastern Nebraska. Despite the fact that he has every intention of running his investigation on his own, Liza, trusting her life to no one but herself, doggedly stays at his side.
Caught up in the adventure of dealing with pickpockets, train robbers and desperados, Liza is swept into romance as well, and, before long, she realizes she’s found something special with Antonio she hadn’t even known she’d been seeking.
Excerpt:
Setup: Liza is meeting for the first time with handsome private investigator Antonio Black, hoping to get him to help her find a way out of the trouble she's in.
He took her arm and led her back to her chair. “Please, sit down and tell me everything about the case against you.”
She returned to her seat, and he returned to his.
She gazed at him silently for several moments before she spoke. “I have been working at Hoffman’s All Goods since I was sixteen, slightly more than three years,” she said. “Mr. Hoffman has been a wonderful employer, and, each year, he’s entrusted me with more and more responsibility.”
She realized she was twisting her fingers so she stopped the nervous habit before Mr. Black noticed it.
“Mr. Hoffman generally keeps receipts in his safe, and once every month or two a deposit is made into the store’s bank account.” She paused and took a calming breath. “For the last eight months he’s trusted me to give the books a thorough looking over every six to eight weeks. When I’ve finished my accounting, I take the cash and bank drafts from the safe and make a deposit at the bank.”
“That’s quite a bit of responsibility for a woman as young as you are,” Mr. Black interjected. “You’ve been entrusted with this duty for eight months now?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Has Mr. Hoffman ever pointed out any problem with your work up to now?”
Liza shook her head. “Never.”
He waved his hand toward her. “Please, go on with your story.”
She bit the corner of her mouth and nodded. “A few days ago…” Liza swallowed hard as she recalled the day the money disappeared. “I was tallying up the receipts for the last two months. I reconciled the receipts with the cash and bank drafts, and I prepared everything necessary to make the bank deposit.” A knot formed in her stomach. “I left the store with the fifteen hundred and some odd dollars in the bag the Merchant’s Bank gave us to hold our deposits.” She glanced downward and paused. “I went straight to the bank,” she said, looking at him again, “and when I arrived the money was gone.”
He sat forward. “I beg your pardon?” His brows drew together. “Are you saying the money just disappeared?”
Liza looked down and nodded.
“Miss Green, look at me.”
She did as he commanded.
He leaned back in his chair. “Last year I went to see the performance of a magician named Harry Houdini. That’s the stage name of a man from Appleton, Wisconsin who recently began to entertain people with his amazing abilities.”
Liza scowled at him. “What has your attending a performance of a magician got to do with what we’re discussing?”
“Miss Green,” he said, tracing a line on his desk with his finger, “I don’t think even Houdini could make fifteen hundred dollars disappear from a bank deposit bag.”
She bolted to her feet. “I’ve never heard of Harry Houdini, nor do I care one whit about who the man is or what he does. I tell you, when I opened the bank deposit bag at the Merchant’s Bank there was nothing inside but cutup newspaper instead of the money and bank drafts I’d placed there.”
“Is this the story you’ve been telling the authorities?” he asked as he got to his feet.
“It is,” she replied firmly.
“Whew,” he said, brushing back his neatly-groomed short, curly black hair. “If this is what you intend to use as your defense, you might want to start studying up on Houdini’s techniques because the only way you’re going to get out of the binding situation you’ve gotten yourself into is by knowing some very clever methods of escape.”
-------------
Liza finds lots of trouble, and a treasured love, in "Recruited." Look for the paperback at Amazon and the e-book at all major Internet bookstores in early June.
Have another great week!
Fran
Fran Shaff, Award-Winning Author
Fran's Web Page
June, 1896: Liza’s accused of stealing fifteen hundred dollars, and Antonio seems to be the only person who can help her out of the mess she’s in--even though she doesn’t exactly trust the handsome private investigator.
Antonio believes Liza is as guilty as the prosecutor says she is, but, having been instantly smitten with the beautiful woman, he wants more than anything to find a way to get her acquitted of the charges against her.
Antonio devises a plan to prove Liza’s innocence by trying to connect the missing money to a ring of pickpockets who have been operating in eastern Nebraska. Despite the fact that he has every intention of running his investigation on his own, Liza, trusting her life to no one but herself, doggedly stays at his side.
Caught up in the adventure of dealing with pickpockets, train robbers and desperados, Liza is swept into romance as well, and, before long, she realizes she’s found something special with Antonio she hadn’t even known she’d been seeking.
Excerpt:
Setup: Liza is meeting for the first time with handsome private investigator Antonio Black, hoping to get him to help her find a way out of the trouble she's in.
He took her arm and led her back to her chair. “Please, sit down and tell me everything about the case against you.”
She returned to her seat, and he returned to his.
She gazed at him silently for several moments before she spoke. “I have been working at Hoffman’s All Goods since I was sixteen, slightly more than three years,” she said. “Mr. Hoffman has been a wonderful employer, and, each year, he’s entrusted me with more and more responsibility.”
She realized she was twisting her fingers so she stopped the nervous habit before Mr. Black noticed it.
“Mr. Hoffman generally keeps receipts in his safe, and once every month or two a deposit is made into the store’s bank account.” She paused and took a calming breath. “For the last eight months he’s trusted me to give the books a thorough looking over every six to eight weeks. When I’ve finished my accounting, I take the cash and bank drafts from the safe and make a deposit at the bank.”
“That’s quite a bit of responsibility for a woman as young as you are,” Mr. Black interjected. “You’ve been entrusted with this duty for eight months now?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Has Mr. Hoffman ever pointed out any problem with your work up to now?”
Liza shook her head. “Never.”
He waved his hand toward her. “Please, go on with your story.”
She bit the corner of her mouth and nodded. “A few days ago…” Liza swallowed hard as she recalled the day the money disappeared. “I was tallying up the receipts for the last two months. I reconciled the receipts with the cash and bank drafts, and I prepared everything necessary to make the bank deposit.” A knot formed in her stomach. “I left the store with the fifteen hundred and some odd dollars in the bag the Merchant’s Bank gave us to hold our deposits.” She glanced downward and paused. “I went straight to the bank,” she said, looking at him again, “and when I arrived the money was gone.”
He sat forward. “I beg your pardon?” His brows drew together. “Are you saying the money just disappeared?”
Liza looked down and nodded.
“Miss Green, look at me.”
She did as he commanded.
He leaned back in his chair. “Last year I went to see the performance of a magician named Harry Houdini. That’s the stage name of a man from Appleton, Wisconsin who recently began to entertain people with his amazing abilities.”
Liza scowled at him. “What has your attending a performance of a magician got to do with what we’re discussing?”
“Miss Green,” he said, tracing a line on his desk with his finger, “I don’t think even Houdini could make fifteen hundred dollars disappear from a bank deposit bag.”
She bolted to her feet. “I’ve never heard of Harry Houdini, nor do I care one whit about who the man is or what he does. I tell you, when I opened the bank deposit bag at the Merchant’s Bank there was nothing inside but cutup newspaper instead of the money and bank drafts I’d placed there.”
“Is this the story you’ve been telling the authorities?” he asked as he got to his feet.
“It is,” she replied firmly.
“Whew,” he said, brushing back his neatly-groomed short, curly black hair. “If this is what you intend to use as your defense, you might want to start studying up on Houdini’s techniques because the only way you’re going to get out of the binding situation you’ve gotten yourself into is by knowing some very clever methods of escape.”
-------------
Liza finds lots of trouble, and a treasured love, in "Recruited." Look for the paperback at Amazon and the e-book at all major Internet bookstores in early June.
Have another great week!
Fran
Fran Shaff, Award-Winning Author
Fran's Web Page
