For Want of a Ship
Here's a exerpt from my brand new release,
For Want of a Ship www.amazon.com/dp/B08LMMDCH3
A cold wind blew down Crawford Street in Vicksburg, Mississippi on January 17, 1860. A man stepped out from the post office. He pulled the stylish black overcoat tighter around his short compact body and straightened his top hat on his thinning ginger-colored hair then began to walk toward Washington Street at a brisk pace. He had just turned towards Clay Street when he heard the sound of an angry voice shouting “Damn you to hell, William!”
He felt a brief sharp sting as a bullet entered his chest. He saw the sheet of newsprint flung into his face. His last thought as he lay on the ground was, “Elizabeth will miss me.”
Fred Hammett had just stepped outside after sorting mail inside the post office all morning when he heard the shot ring out around the corner. He rushed out from the post office and saw the body sprawled in a pool of blood just steps away
For Want of a Ship www.amazon.com/dp/B08LMMDCH3
A cold wind blew down Crawford Street in Vicksburg, Mississippi on January 17, 1860. A man stepped out from the post office. He pulled the stylish black overcoat tighter around his short compact body and straightened his top hat on his thinning ginger-colored hair then began to walk toward Washington Street at a brisk pace. He had just turned towards Clay Street when he heard the sound of an angry voice shouting “Damn you to hell, William!”
He felt a brief sharp sting as a bullet entered his chest. He saw the sheet of newsprint flung into his face. His last thought as he lay on the ground was, “Elizabeth will miss me.”
Fred Hammett had just stepped outside after sorting mail inside the post office all morning when he heard the shot ring out around the corner. He rushed out from the post office and saw the body sprawled in a pool of blood just steps away
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