Follow the spine-tingling exploits of Sadie (our lady Pinkerton) and Cass (her outlaw lover) as they race against time to unmask the DEVIL IN TEXAS! Every Wednesday, I'll post a new excerpt from my soon-to-be-released novel, which launches my upcoming Romantic Suspense series, Lady Law & the Gunslinger, set in the Wild West.
Can't wait that long for your next Cass and Sadie fix?! Meet the star-crossed lovers in PISTOLS AND PETTICOATS,which features a novella prequel to the series. And be sure to follow me on Twitter: @AdriennedeWolfe.
Devil in Texas
Book 1, Lady Law & the Gunslinger
Excerpt by Adrienne deWolfe
#1LineWed Tweet: Expanded Excerpt from Page 1
Death. The end of the line.
There was a certain poetic justice to the idea here, at the corner of Post Office and 26th streets, where The Wicked plied their trade in sin. Galveston's tenderloin district -– better known as The Line –- was doing a booming business. Drunkards whizzed on walls. Hooligans rolled dice in alleys. Prostitutes primped, flashing more than smiles in the ruddy light of brothel windows.
As far as the eye could see, no tin-star intruded on the scene, probably because payoff day occurred on the first of the month. Until then, the law never crossed The Line. That meant tonight, no one would interfere.
‘No one will even notice,’ mused the figure in the itchy, fake beard, who lurked across the street from the Satin Siren Casino and Saloon.
Asrael. The Regulator of God. That was how the figure thought of itself while disguised in the rumpled, linen sack suit that sodbusters favored in town. Like the Angel of Death, the mortal Asrael felt no remorse to orchestrate deeds ordained by the King of Heaven. The Satin Siren was a pestilential den of drunken savages and thieving whores. Behind its deceptively quaint, nautical doors, depravity raged unabated. More to the point, the casino was the lair of the She-devil, who’d interfered in Asrael's plans.
For the last time.
Fueled by divine righteousness and a potent dose of contempt, Asrael felt no fear of The Line's shifty-eyed rabble, even as twilight faded over Post Office Street, and night stretched its tentacles toward the slutty redhead on the casino's sign. Asrael imagined the She-devil must look much like that garish, birdlimed mermaid. As for singing, the strumpet probably shrieked like the gulls that wheeled overhead.
Soon that mystery would be solved. At eight o'clock, the stage curtains were scheduled to rise. The “Mermaid Queen” would show her tits to morally bankrupt men for the last time.
As if on cue, the hired gun across the street checked his timepiece. When his eyes locked with Asrael’s, the man grinned and tossed aside his smoke to enter the brothel.
Asrael’s lips carved out a ghoulish smile.
Eight o'clock. Divine justice.
Death at the end of The Line.
Asrael couldn't wait for the show to begin.
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Writers from all stages of their careers come together on Wednesdays to Tweet an excerpt from their work-in-progress. This ongoing event has weekly themes (no buy links, please!) and is sponsored by the Kiss of Death Chapter of Romance Writers of America. Follow @RWAKissofDeath to learn more about each week's theme before you post. Feel free to retweet, favorite, and comment on your favorite Tweets.