WeWriWa: I'm Back in the Saddle Again

Can one suffer withdrawal from not being at the keyboard for three weeks?! I thought I was experiencing the first twitches of it after not being able to sit in my office chair for any length of time after knee replacement. I'd gotten one of those bendy legged computer bed trays but trying to figure out how to get both sides positioned was too exhausting when my Kindle was loaded with books I'd promised myself I'd read. So lots of reading and Netflix binging ensued instead of increasing chapters on my WIP. One thing I did manage to accomplish was a goal list for 2018, and high on it is the reissuing of my award-winning Dana Ransom Western historicals from the '90s that I'd gotten the rights back to. Going through the first book, TEMPTATION'S TRAIL, got me all lathered up to go West again with my half-Apache tracker hero and his family. Here's a peek . . .

Bluntly, he told her, "Miss Duncan, where I'm going, every insect has a sting, every bush a thorn, every snake a fang, the sun is hot, the water's scarce, and the ride is so hard most sane men would refuse to make the trip."

"I'm not most men, Mr. Bass."

Having traded her fancy society clothes for a sensible split skirt and white cotton shirtwaist, glossy boots replacing kid shoes and the glorious twists of her hair braided back from the milky softness of her face and topped with a flat-brimmed hat, but even so, she looked no less feminine, no less fragile. She'd wilt within the hour and be begging for mercy by nightfall, and then he'd have to lose precious time bringing her back. 

Trying a different approach, he took a step closer so that in her boot heels, they were almost eye to eye, she, tall for a woman, built like a supple reed, easily bent, but not easily broken. "How do you know I won't take you out there where there's nothing but nothing and slit your throat?" he goaded, letting that sink in before adding with a whisper of menace, "or worse?"

Without so much as a blink, she smiled wryly at him. "If that was what you were planning, you'd hardly warn me of it ahead of time, would you? And then," she added with a bit more tartness, "you'd be losing out on the thousand dollars, and I hardly think a man would be willing to sacrifice that for me, so stop wasting time, Mr. Bass." 

His critical gaze lingered over the coltish sway of her hips as she walked toward the door, thinking about the courageous fire in her eyes, thinking she could be wrong . . . thinking way too damned much as he strode after her.

Having grown up in the great era of John Wayne and TV westerns - Gunsmoke, Have Gun Will Travel, How the West Was Won, Wanted Dead or Alive and Maverick, right up to the Magnificent Seven remake, Tarantino's Hateful Eight and Christian Bale's new adventure, to me, there's nothing like a steely-eyed hero with a grudge or a goal. Now the big decision . . . self-pub or look for a more traditional avenue?

So . . . how am I feeling now with my new bionic part? Up walking same day as surgery with a walker, walking on own two legs within three days at home without assist, climbing alternating stairs in six days (to the amazement of my PT guys!), graduated PT in less than two weeks instead of the recommended 6-7 weeks, driving and back to work full time in three weeks and stepping DOWN stairs (the hardest thing you can do with a new knee). Yeah, kinda like this . . .


Hope y'all have gotten off to a great start in this New Year. I sure have missed visiting with you! Can't wait to catch up.

Happy New Year, Happy Writing, and Happy Trails!


Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! Share an 8 to 10 sentence snippet of your writing on Sunday. Visit other participants on the list and read, critique, and comment on their 8sunday posts.

Spread the word, share the love, warriors - Hashtag #8sunday.