Sneak Peek

My next novel in the Triangle M Ranch series is titled “You Gotta Dig Two Graves”. I am hoping to have it published by early August, for sure by the end of August. Here is a taste of chapter two:

Clarence spat on the ground and glanced at the guard house that lay a dozen paces away. Involuntarily, I glanced over there myself.

          Standing self-importantly just outside the door was a guard that the prisoners unanimously despised. His name was Conway. To Conway, every day was an opportunity to bully the prisoners surrounding him.

          Conway was a large man with an imposing bulk. His broad shoulders rippled with enormous muscles. The muscles continued down the sinewy arms until they reached his huge hands. Each hand seemed to be the size of a frying pan.

          His bulk was not his greatest weapon, though. Cruelty was. It seemed that nothing bothered his conscience and there was no depth to which he would not stoop.

          Conway carried on a conversation with another guard and had his back to us.

          Clarence spat again. Then he turned to us with a grimace.

          “I hope he does not come over here today,” he said seriously, “Just last week he beat a prisoner to death. Claimed the prisoner attacked him, but everyone knows that is not the truth. The warden in charge knows that Conway is terrible. I guess he turns his head because everyone fears him, and it keeps folks from acting up.”

          None of us replied. We all agreed, but it was almost too hot for conversation. The sweltering air seemed to stifle all talk.

          A few moments later, Conway turned on his heel and walked toward our small group. I stiffened unconsciously and noticed that Herman seemed to shrink a little.

          “What are you Yanks doing?” he snarled as he approached, “Y’all ain’t conspiring up some trouble, are ya?”

          “No, sir,” Steven answered politely.

          Steven was one of the few prisoners who did not openly express hatred for Conway. I had heard him several nights as he prayed for Conway and the other guards. I could not bring myself to pray for them as he did.

          “See to it you don’t!” he said. The heavy thud of his boots vibrated the ground as he passed us. A putrid odor followed him. It was rumored that he never bathed, and it certainly smelled like the rumor was true.

Want to find out more? Stay tuned!

Belle Isle Prison Camp

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