Oh no. In my last 'wewriwa' post the cultured thug told the other thug, Bill, to shoot the 'prancing dandy' first if they so much as moved. Doesn't look good for Lord George and the tasty tart, Evangeline.
Welcome to my weekly post for Weekend Writing Warriors. For more details about what this madcap blog hop is all about and to check out other authors, click here.
Now, continuing on with George and the Madame, who'd cried out, "Please don't shoot."
Her plea had the desired effect. At her cry, Bill momentarily shifted his attention from George to her. Without hesitation, George whipped the knife and lodged it in the man's heart. He halted, and the gun clattered to the floor, his expression registering surprise as he glanced down at his chest. At first there was nothing to see but the hilt of the knife protruding. Then a dark red stain spread across his dingy shirt. It took only seconds, but he looked back at George, sank to his knees and crumpled to the floor.
The other man turned and before he could point his weapon, Evangeline had raised her arm and with deadly aim, made sure he never breathed again. George eyeballed the bullet hole dead square in the assailant's forehead.
"Remind me to never challenge you to a duel, Madame Reauchard."All comments are welcome. I hope you enjoyed my snippet.
Remember to hug someone you love today.