Friday, April 15, 2016

New Excerpt from Book II; Bandita Bonita and Billy the Kid: The Scourge of New Mexico - Chapter Four


Bandita Bonita and Billy the Kid
The Scourge of New Mexico

Due Spring 2016




Book I, Bandita Bonita: Romancing Billy the Kid Available Through Amazon and Barnes and Noble #Kindle & #Nook only $3.99. Also Available in Print. 

       *It's interesting to note that in many cases, though prostitutes of the Wild West were among the freest of women, having liberties that women of "moral fiber" weren't privy to, many were given drugs to ease them into the lifestyle of prostitution, a similar ploy that is used today.
           In this scene, Maya Essex is part of the Painted Ladies gang, who are whores on horseback looking to recruit fresh blood. Under the guise of friendship, they're setting their sights on none other than Lucy "Lucky Lu" Howard, who is famous for being Billy the Kid's girl. They know she'll grant a big draw of customers and bring in cash over fist, which, understandably, infuriates Billy to no end. The excerpt listed here just about sums that up.
           But Lucy's on to their scheme, strong, wise girl that she is, and it's also important to note here that William H. Bonney, AKA, Billy the Kid, treated women with respect, so in this scene it's necessary to point out that I had no intention of making him seem a hard man (I wouldn't use Billy in this manner), he only loves Lucy so, and this is explained excessively in the novel, hence, I included the scene where Billy torments himself over his desperate treatment of Lucy. Billy loves Lucy and is in a constant fight to keep her away from the Painted Ladies.



Chapter Four
Bandita Bonita and Billy the Kid
The Scourge of New Mexico

          I ran into Maya Essex and let her talk me into visiting the Oriental side of town and its opium den. I had never been, but the mood I had been in as of late confiscated my common sense. I was still angry at Jimmy and the fact that Finnegan Flynn was still out there living another day to ruin someone else’s, and all of this on the heels of my inability to sort out the still very raw events of the past year; all that had happened during the war left me sullen when I’d think on it. I felt helpless, for what could anyone do to quell my distress? And so I turned to “Johnny Poppies”. I found myself tired of hoping against hope to be saved by a man who only dragged me down with his warped sense of honor, and always with the excuse that there was bloody payback to be tendered.
          In a soporific miasma by sundown, I had been jerked forcibly from a chaise I lounged on and smacked across my face in an attempt to rouse me from my stupor. After this unpleasant gesture that was dealt me, I made out the blurry vision of Josiah before me as he dragged me through the place and out its door. The remaining light outside still managed to hurt my eyes and I walked offbeat and slowly. I kept losing my standing as my weakened knees repeatedly buckled, and so Josiah picked me up and carried me the rest of the way to the Old Ruidoso. When we reached the building I was set back down on my feet, promptly lost my balance, and stumbled before being able to right myself. I was in no condition to notice who it was that stood around me, nor was I aware of what was happening when Billy viciously grabbed me by the arms and shook me violently in an attempt to bring me around. All of this manhandling caused me a tremendous amount of discomfort as it attacked my easy state of repose; it was all so rudely irritating. Unresponsive and clouded, I feebly tried to fight back and push him away but, even if I had had all of my faculties and strength about me, I still would not have been able to fight him off. Being horribly jostled about in my condition was so very unpleasant and, in my hazy state, things had been made even more disagreeable as I was again lifted from my feet and thrown into a trough of cold December water to sober me. I screamed and kicked while Billy held me down, nearly drowning me before pulling me up for air and then plunging me back under again. He would hold me there so long that I thought he truly meant to sink me, and as I kicked and fought my energy waned quickly, causing my held breath to give out faster than it ought to have otherwise.
          He yanked me back up, shaking me something awful again out of anger, attempting to wake me. I managed to strike out and claw at his face before he smacked me hard to render me useless and again plunged me back down beneath the water. I kicked with all my might when he finally let up, pulling me up and over the side of the trough, letting me fall carelessly to the hard packed, frozen ground.
          Lying there in a pool of muddy, cold water, I retched so violently from all the exertion that the muscles of my belly cramped and burned, my stomach feeling as if it would tear open as the bile mercilessly flooded out of me. I was then left there to wither in my sorry state as I gasped powerfully for breath. When I had caught enough wind, Billy brutally picked me up and cruelly threw me into our room, locking the door behind me and making me a prisoner. I fell to the floor, happy to be left alone though I was wet and shivering. I couldn’t think straight; I hadn’t even the sense, or the energy, to crawl to the lit stove and lie before it or remove my drenched, icy clothing to exchange it for something warm and dry. Instead, I only lay where I fell, too exhausted to move.

          My punishment had not yet ended with the next morning. I had contracted a terrible cold and an aching head which was joined by a sore and swollen throat and, after falling asleep on the hard floor in my wet clothes, I had woken up on my right side to discover excruciating agony in my hip and a hard ache in my shoulder that whipped across my back, disallowing me to move my arm and neck painlessly. I had also inherited stiff and sore muscles throughout the rest of my body.
          Bleary eyed and ill, I coped with my discomfort by crawling at a near slither towards the bed, managing to pull myself up onto it. I lay there in a fetal position, desiring only not to move anymore. I could smell the damp filth that had nestled into my clothing, making me feel all the more unpleasant.
          It was not long after this ordinarily small achievement, made extraordinary by my current condition, when Billy entered the room, his voice piercing as he lectured me on my behavior and presented to me the bottle of laudanum that I had been hiding. Slowly and with some effort, I raised my deeply sore arms so I could bring my hands to my ears in an attempt to try and stop the torture he was pressing upon my aching head, but he would be undeterred and unsympathetic by my deteriorated state. My head pounded as Billy’s voice seemed earsplitting, made worse as it merged with the screaming pain in my head. I plead with God to make him stop through the mercy of humanity, but God would not budge. I could not understand the words he was shouting; I could not understand anything but the agony.
          After exhausting himself he finally took pity on me and carefully removed my dirty clothing, sweeping his fingers gently over my skin and tenderly minding my physical discomfort. I knew he had taken no pleasure in reprimanding me, and that by lovingly caring for me now he was trying to make up for it, showing his affection for me. He redressed me in my nightshirt and placed me under the covers before going for the doctor.
          I had a fever and had developed a cough, and through witnessing my misery, Billy finally seemed to break down and gain compassion, lying in bed and staying with me for the rest of the day. As I turned away from him and tried to sleep, he lay bolstered but flush against my body, his hand resting on my side as he read to himself, worried and guilt-ridden over my deprived health.
          Restless, I drifted in and out of a dreamless unconsciousness as Billy would lean over every so often and rub my back to try and soothe me. Though I did not want to look at him out of some peculiar combination of fear, anger, and shame, I did not make any attempt to move away from him or in any way give him the impression that I wanted him to leave me alone. I could not blame him for being so upset with me for what I had done; going to that opium den and hiding the laudanum. I knew that he had only reacted as he did out of fear. I believed that he was angrier with me than I with him, but I didn’t realize the self-doubt he felt at treating me with such brutality. Before he had come to try and fix things with me after locking me in our room for the night, he had gone off alone to sit and brood over what he had done.

***

“Will you leave me be?”
          Jimmy stood and looked down at Billy who sat hiding on the floor of the livery stable, his head hung low. Jimmy ignored him and sat down alongside him.
          “Billy, what you did…”
          Billy raised his head to Jimmy, his eyes warning the well-meaning boy to watch his words. Jimmy’s breath caught and he second-guessed himself, the Colts strapped to Billy’s waste drawing his nervous attention before he dared himself to go on.
          He won’t shoot me over this, he reasoned.
          “It was—”
          “What do you know about it?”
          Billy’s tone was downright malicious, but Jimmy knew better, that Billy would only bark without biting. And, he knew, once he understood Jimmy had come as a friend, Billy would back down.
          “I know plenty more than you might think,” Jimmy replied defensively.
          “Is that so?”
          “Yeah, it’s so.” Jimmy’s voice grew subdued. “I never coulda done a’thing like that, what you did—“
          “And I suppose that makes you a better man than me?”
          Billy’s agitation was becoming ever more apparent—he was defensive, and Jimmy realized that he needed to make his point quickly.
          “Why exactly is it that you’re here?” Billy asked. “You intend to make me feel worse than I already do?”
          “No. In fact, I intend just the opposite. I wouldn’t have had the courage to do that.”
          “So, what’s your point? It takes a big man to beat up on a woman?”
          “No…it takes a big man to do what needs doing, even if it means using a strong hand against a woman.”
          Snorting derisively, Billy said, “Shit…d’you know how stupid you sound, Moffey?”
          “No, I mean it, Bill. I couldn’t of brought myself to do that to her. I couldn’t of risked her hating me, despite being angry enough to want to throttle and beat sense into her myself. She’ll kill herself if she’s allowed to go down that road. Talking to a person about it doesn’t get the job done, I know.”
          “Yeah, well, right about now she hates you anyway.”
          Billy couldn’t keep the bite out of his voice, making his remark meaner than he had meant to.  He began to understand that Jimmy was on his side, but that didn’t make him feel any better about what he had done. He was cruel beyond words to the one person that meant everything to him, the one person he wouldn’t have wanted to hurt for anything in the world.
          Jimmy was quiet a moment, and then said, “I lost my ma that way.”
          Being of a mind to quickly respond nastily to anything Jimmy might have to say, Billy pointedly caught his words at this unexpected, heartfelt confession and felt a hitch in his throat, immediately regretting having spoken to the boy with such spite. After waiting a few moments he said, “I’m sorry about that.”
          “Yeah…so am I,” Jimmy chuckled awkwardly. “My pa, he left us. He took up with some other woman—left us poverty-stricken. And my ma, she just about fell apart, and I could only watch it happen. Once a body gets that high into its system and gets to back out of reality for a little while, well, that’s a hold that won’t let go. That grip only gets tighter; it only gets worse.”
          Billy nodded, appreciative of Jimmy’s comprehension and loss. Letting his guard down, an attribute he had never done with Jimmy before now, he said, “I don’t know how to keep her safe. I don’t know what to do with her; I can’t make her do anything.”
          “Yeah,” Jimmy agreed. “I get that. She really digs her heels in.”
          Billy laughed at that before returning to a sullen and regretful disposition.
          “I shouldn’t have done that to her.”
          “Hell yes you should have!” Jimmy declared. “Maybe that goddamned dummy will think twice next time!”
          “I found a bottle on her. Did you know she’d been doing that stuff?”
          “No. If I had I would have told you about it.”
          Billy nodded. “Yeah, guess you might of.” Shaking his head he added, “How come I didn’t know? I should have known. I can’t seem to make anything right.”
          “How’s that you mean?”
          “If it weren’t for me, none of these things would happen to her. I don’t want her to leave me, but mostly I’m so desperate for her to go just so I know she’ll be okay.”
          “She does these things to herself, Bill. And that girl that took her, that painted lady girl—they ain’t, not any of ‘em, any good for her. I see you direct her. We all do. She rebels. It ain’t you, it’s her. Hell, you’re right—you can’t make her do anything. You never influenced her poorly, not deliberately. You only tried to put her right out here all along and you know it. I see it—that if she don’t get her own way she burns it down.”
          “I can’t say as I blame her for that.”
          “Why’s that?”
          “Because she’s had to do things everybody else’s way all her life.”
          Billy put his hands to his head and repeated, “I shouldn’t have done what I did to her.”
          Jimmy put his hand on Billy’s shoulder. “Any fool can see you love her, Billy. We all know you’d never put a hand on her out of anger just for the sake of doing so. I know there ain’t a thing anybody can say to make you feel better about it, at least not any one of us.”
          When Billy didn’t reply, Jimmy said, “Talk to her. If I had with her what you do…I see now that you love her as much as she says you do. I’d thought I loved her more, that I was more devoted, but,” Jimmy shook his head. “I see now why you are the way you are—to protect her. I wouldn’t have had the guts to put her in her place like that for her own good.” Jimmy blushed, his face falling with sadness. “I might of just stood by and watched rather than risk her hatred. What you both have…she’ll set you right. Just go to her.”
          Jimmy left a beat of silence before opening his mouth again, “But Billy…”
          Billy looked up, preparing to hang onto the words Jimmy would say next, waiting to hear any other words of encouragement that might help him fix what he’d done, but what Jimmy would say, though it was advice indeed, sounded more as if it were a threat.
          “Don’t underestimate Lucy. She has every intention of staying here, no matter what happens. You may know her better than anyone, better than me, but I know her well enough. I pay attention where you take her for granted. I know without a doubt that there is nothing you can do, nothing that will drive her out. Be careful of how you push her.”




Follow me on Twitter: @NicoleMDixon



New Excerpt from Book II; Bandita Bonita and Billy the Kid: The Scourge of New Mexico - Chapter Four


Bandita Bonita and Billy the Kid
The Scourge of New Mexico

Due Spring 2016




Book I, Bandita Bonita: Romancing Billy the Kid Available Through Amazon and Barnes and Noble #Kindle & #Nook only $3.99. Also Available in Print. 

       *It's interesting to note that in many cases, though prostitutes of the Wild West were among the freest of women, having liberties that women of "moral fiber" weren't privy to, many were given drugs to ease them into the lifestyle of prostitution, a similar ploy that is used today.
           In this scene, Maya Essex is part of the Painted Ladies gang, who are whores on horseback looking to recruit fresh blood. Under the guise of friendship, they're setting their sights on none other than Lucy "Lucky Lu" Howard, who is famous for being Billy the Kid's girl. They know she'll grant a big draw of customers and bring in cash over fist, which, understandably, infuriates Billy to no end. The excerpt listed here just about sums that up.
           But Lucy's on to their scheme, strong, wise girl that she is, and it's also important to note here that William H. Bonney, AKA, Billy the Kid, treated women with respect, so in this scene it's necessary to point out that I had no intention of making him seem a hard man (I wouldn't use Billy in this manner), he only loves Lucy so, and this is explained excessively in the novel, hence, I included the scene where Billy torments himself over his desperate treatment of Lucy. Billy loves Lucy and is in a constant fight to keep her away from the Painted Ladies.



Chapter Four
Bandita Bonita and Billy the Kid
The Scourge of New Mexico

          I ran into Maya Essex and let her talk me into visiting the Oriental side of town and its opium den. I had never been, but the mood I had been in as of late confiscated my common sense. I was still angry at Jimmy and the fact that Finnegan Flynn was still out there living another day to ruin someone else’s, and all of this on the heels of my inability to sort out the still very raw events of the past year; all that had happened during the war left me sullen when I’d think on it. I felt helpless, for what could anyone do to quell my distress? And so I turned to “Johnny Poppies”. I found myself tired of hoping against hope to be saved by a man who only dragged me down with his warped sense of honor, and always with the excuse that there was bloody payback to be tendered.
          In a soporific miasma by sundown, I had been jerked forcibly from a chaise I lounged on and smacked across my face in an attempt to rouse me from my stupor. After this unpleasant gesture that was dealt me, I made out the blurry vision of Josiah before me as he dragged me through the place and out its door. The remaining light outside still managed to hurt my eyes and I walked offbeat and slowly. I kept losing my standing as my weakened knees repeatedly buckled, and so Josiah picked me up and carried me the rest of the way to the Old Ruidoso. When we reached the building I was set back down on my feet, promptly lost my balance, and stumbled before being able to right myself. I was in no condition to notice who it was that stood around me, nor was I aware of what was happening when Billy viciously grabbed me by the arms and shook me violently in an attempt to bring me around. All of this manhandling caused me a tremendous amount of discomfort as it attacked my easy state of repose; it was all so rudely irritating. Unresponsive and clouded, I feebly tried to fight back and push him away but, even if I had had all of my faculties and strength about me, I still would not have been able to fight him off. Being horribly jostled about in my condition was so very unpleasant and, in my hazy state, things had been made even more disagreeable as I was again lifted from my feet and thrown into a trough of cold December water to sober me. I screamed and kicked while Billy held me down, nearly drowning me before pulling me up for air and then plunging me back under again. He would hold me there so long that I thought he truly meant to sink me, and as I kicked and fought my energy waned quickly, causing my held breath to give out faster than it ought to have otherwise.
          He yanked me back up, shaking me something awful again out of anger, attempting to wake me. I managed to strike out and claw at his face before he smacked me hard to render me useless and again plunged me back down beneath the water. I kicked with all my might when he finally let up, pulling me up and over the side of the trough, letting me fall carelessly to the hard packed, frozen ground.
          Lying there in a pool of muddy, cold water, I retched so violently from all the exertion that the muscles of my belly cramped and burned, my stomach feeling as if it would tear open as the bile mercilessly flooded out of me. I was then left there to wither in my sorry state as I gasped powerfully for breath. When I had caught enough wind, Billy brutally picked me up and cruelly threw me into our room, locking the door behind me and making me a prisoner. I fell to the floor, happy to be left alone though I was wet and shivering. I couldn’t think straight; I hadn’t even the sense, or the energy, to crawl to the lit stove and lie before it or remove my drenched, icy clothing to exchange it for something warm and dry. Instead, I only lay where I fell, too exhausted to move.

          My punishment had not yet ended with the next morning. I had contracted a terrible cold and an aching head which was joined by a sore and swollen throat and, after falling asleep on the hard floor in my wet clothes, I had woken up on my right side to discover excruciating agony in my hip and a hard ache in my shoulder that whipped across my back, disallowing me to move my arm and neck painlessly. I had also inherited stiff and sore muscles throughout the rest of my body.
          Bleary eyed and ill, I coped with my discomfort by crawling at a near slither towards the bed, managing to pull myself up onto it. I lay there in a fetal position, desiring only not to move anymore. I could smell the damp filth that had nestled into my clothing, making me feel all the more unpleasant.
          It was not long after this ordinarily small achievement, made extraordinary by my current condition, when Billy entered the room, his voice piercing as he lectured me on my behavior and presented to me the bottle of laudanum that I had been hiding. Slowly and with some effort, I raised my deeply sore arms so I could bring my hands to my ears in an attempt to try and stop the torture he was pressing upon my aching head, but he would be undeterred and unsympathetic by my deteriorated state. My head pounded as Billy’s voice seemed earsplitting, made worse as it merged with the screaming pain in my head. I plead with God to make him stop through the mercy of humanity, but God would not budge. I could not understand the words he was shouting; I could not understand anything but the agony.
          After exhausting himself he finally took pity on me and carefully removed my dirty clothing, sweeping his fingers gently over my skin and tenderly minding my physical discomfort. I knew he had taken no pleasure in reprimanding me, and that by lovingly caring for me now he was trying to make up for it, showing his affection for me. He redressed me in my nightshirt and placed me under the covers before going for the doctor.
          I had a fever and had developed a cough, and through witnessing my misery, Billy finally seemed to break down and gain compassion, lying in bed and staying with me for the rest of the day. As I turned away from him and tried to sleep, he lay bolstered but flush against my body, his hand resting on my side as he read to himself, worried and guilt-ridden over my deprived health.
          Restless, I drifted in and out of a dreamless unconsciousness as Billy would lean over every so often and rub my back to try and soothe me. Though I did not want to look at him out of some peculiar combination of fear, anger, and shame, I did not make any attempt to move away from him or in any way give him the impression that I wanted him to leave me alone. I could not blame him for being so upset with me for what I had done; going to that opium den and hiding the laudanum. I knew that he had only reacted as he did out of fear. I believed that he was angrier with me than I with him, but I didn’t realize the self-doubt he felt at treating me with such brutality. Before he had come to try and fix things with me after locking me in our room for the night, he had gone off alone to sit and brood over what he had done.

***

“Will you leave me be?”
          Jimmy stood and looked down at Billy who sat hiding on the floor of the livery stable, his head hung low. Jimmy ignored him and sat down alongside him.
          “Billy, what you did…”
          Billy raised his head to Jimmy, his eyes warning the well-meaning boy to watch his words. Jimmy’s breath caught and he second-guessed himself, the Colts strapped to Billy’s waste drawing his nervous attention before he dared himself to go on.
          He won’t shoot me over this, he reasoned.
          “It was—”
          “What do you know about it?”
          Billy’s tone was downright malicious, but Jimmy knew better, that Billy would only bark without biting. And, he knew, once he understood Jimmy had come as a friend, Billy would back down.
          “I know plenty more than you might think,” Jimmy replied defensively.
          “Is that so?”
          “Yeah, it’s so.” Jimmy’s voice grew subdued. “I never coulda done a’thing like that, what you did—“
          “And I suppose that makes you a better man than me?”
          Billy’s agitation was becoming ever more apparent—he was defensive, and Jimmy realized that he needed to make his point quickly.
          “Why exactly is it that you’re here?” Billy asked. “You intend to make me feel worse than I already do?”
          “No. In fact, I intend just the opposite. I wouldn’t have had the courage to do that.”
          “So, what’s your point? It takes a big man to beat up on a woman?”
          “No…it takes a big man to do what needs doing, even if it means using a strong hand against a woman.”
          Snorting derisively, Billy said, “Shit…d’you know how stupid you sound, Moffey?”
          “No, I mean it, Bill. I couldn’t of brought myself to do that to her. I couldn’t of risked her hating me, despite being angry enough to want to throttle and beat sense into her myself. She’ll kill herself if she’s allowed to go down that road. Talking to a person about it doesn’t get the job done, I know.”
          “Yeah, well, right about now she hates you anyway.”
          Billy couldn’t keep the bite out of his voice, making his remark meaner than he had meant to.  He began to understand that Jimmy was on his side, but that didn’t make him feel any better about what he had done. He was cruel beyond words to the one person that meant everything to him, the one person he wouldn’t have wanted to hurt for anything in the world.
          Jimmy was quiet a moment, and then said, “I lost my ma that way.”
          Being of a mind to quickly respond nastily to anything Jimmy might have to say, Billy pointedly caught his words at this unexpected, heartfelt confession and felt a hitch in his throat, immediately regretting having spoken to the boy with such spite. After waiting a few moments he said, “I’m sorry about that.”
          “Yeah…so am I,” Jimmy chuckled awkwardly. “My pa, he left us. He took up with some other woman—left us poverty-stricken. And my ma, she just about fell apart, and I could only watch it happen. Once a body gets that high into its system and gets to back out of reality for a little while, well, that’s a hold that won’t let go. That grip only gets tighter; it only gets worse.”
          Billy nodded, appreciative of Jimmy’s comprehension and loss. Letting his guard down, an attribute he had never done with Jimmy before now, he said, “I don’t know how to keep her safe. I don’t know what to do with her; I can’t make her do anything.”
          “Yeah,” Jimmy agreed. “I get that. She really digs her heels in.”
          Billy laughed at that before returning to a sullen and regretful disposition.
          “I shouldn’t have done that to her.”
          “Hell yes you should have!” Jimmy declared. “Maybe that goddamned dummy will think twice next time!”
          “I found a bottle on her. Did you know she’d been doing that stuff?”
          “No. If I had I would have told you about it.”
          Billy nodded. “Yeah, guess you might of.” Shaking his head he added, “How come I didn’t know? I should have known. I can’t seem to make anything right.”
          “How’s that you mean?”
          “If it weren’t for me, none of these things would happen to her. I don’t want her to leave me, but mostly I’m so desperate for her to go just so I know she’ll be okay.”
          “She does these things to herself, Bill. And that girl that took her, that painted lady girl—they ain’t, not any of ‘em, any good for her. I see you direct her. We all do. She rebels. It ain’t you, it’s her. Hell, you’re right—you can’t make her do anything. You never influenced her poorly, not deliberately. You only tried to put her right out here all along and you know it. I see it—that if she don’t get her own way she burns it down.”
          “I can’t say as I blame her for that.”
          “Why’s that?”
          “Because she’s had to do things everybody else’s way all her life.”
          Billy put his hands to his head and repeated, “I shouldn’t have done what I did to her.”
          Jimmy put his hand on Billy’s shoulder. “Any fool can see you love her, Billy. We all know you’d never put a hand on her out of anger just for the sake of doing so. I know there ain’t a thing anybody can say to make you feel better about it, at least not any one of us.”
          When Billy didn’t reply, Jimmy said, “Talk to her. If I had with her what you do…I see now that you love her as much as she says you do. I’d thought I loved her more, that I was more devoted, but,” Jimmy shook his head. “I see now why you are the way you are—to protect her. I wouldn’t have had the guts to put her in her place like that for her own good.” Jimmy blushed, his face falling with sadness. “I might of just stood by and watched rather than risk her hatred. What you both have…she’ll set you right. Just go to her.”
          Jimmy left a beat of silence before opening his mouth again, “But Billy…”
          Billy looked up, preparing to hang onto the words Jimmy would say next, waiting to hear any other words of encouragement that might help him fix what he’d done, but what Jimmy would say, though it was advice indeed, sounded more as if it were a threat.
          “Don’t underestimate Lucy. She has every intention of staying here, no matter what happens. You may know her better than anyone, better than me, but I know her well enough. I pay attention where you take her for granted. I know without a doubt that there is nothing you can do, nothing that will drive her out. Be careful of how you push her.”




Follow me on Twitter: @NicoleMDixon



Synopsis for Book II in the Bandita Series: Bandita Bonita and Billy the Kid, The Scourge of New Mexico


Scheduled to be released this spring, 2016.



Synopsis:

Due this Spring, 2016, Book In the Bandita Series: Bandita Bonita and Billy the Kid: The Scourge of New Mexico
In this sequel to Bandita Bonita, Romancing Billy
the Kid, the Lincoln County War is far from over and
William H. Bonney is now the most wanted, notorious
outlaw in the New Mexico Territory. Elucia Howard,
now christened with the celebrated moniker, Lucy “Lucky Lu”
Howard, has settled into her new role as the Kid’s notorious
outlaw sweetheart.

With Billy condemned to death as a murderer, Lucy stands
by him in his fight to clear his name, and with the few remaining
Regulators, they embark on a journey that places Billy deeper
within the clutches of the crooked law they had tried to destroy.

Bio:
Nicole Maddalo Dixon was born in Philadelphia and
raised in Bucks County, Pennsylvania where she
lives with her husband, Wallace. Her first book,
Bandita Bonita, Romancing Billy the Kid, was also published by
Sunstone Press.

To Purchase Book I, Bandita Bonita: Romancing Billy the Kid, it is availabe in Print, Kindle, or Nook through Amazon and Barnes and Noble. Kindle and Nook, $3.99.



Twitter: @NicoleMDixon

Synopsis for Book II in the Bandita Series: Bandita Bonita and Billy the Kid, The Scourge of New Mexico


Scheduled to be released this spring, 2016.



Synopsis:

Due this Spring, 2016, Book In the Bandita Series: Bandita Bonita and Billy the Kid: The Scourge of New Mexico
In this sequel to Bandita Bonita, Romancing Billy
the Kid, the Lincoln County War is far from over and
William H. Bonney is now the most wanted, notorious
outlaw in the New Mexico Territory. Elucia Howard,
now christened with the celebrated moniker, Lucy “Lucky Lu”
Howard, has settled into her new role as the Kid’s notorious
outlaw sweetheart.

With Billy condemned to death as a murderer, Lucy stands
by him in his fight to clear his name, and with the few remaining
Regulators, they embark on a journey that places Billy deeper
within the clutches of the crooked law they had tried to destroy.

Bio:
Nicole Maddalo Dixon was born in Philadelphia and
raised in Bucks County, Pennsylvania where she
lives with her husband, Wallace. Her first book,
Bandita Bonita, Romancing Billy the Kid, was also published by
Sunstone Press.

To Purchase Book I, Bandita Bonita: Romancing Billy the Kid, it is availabe in Print, Kindle, or Nook through Amazon and Barnes and Noble. Kindle and Nook, $3.99.



Twitter: @NicoleMDixon

Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Bandita Bonita: Romancing Billy the Kid - Chapter 13 Excerpt (Bonus Excerpts from the Upcoming Book II in the Series: Bandita Bonita and Billy the Kid: The Scourge of New Mexico)


Excerpt: Chapter 13 
Not Much Mary Ann
                                                   ˗ Andrew “Buckshot” Roberts


To Buy A Copy of Book I (Book II Slated for Spring 2016; See Excerpts: Chapter 13 - Colorful Language ; Chapter 11)


Amazon: Print and Kindle Format (Kindle only $3.99)

Barnes and Noble: Print and Nook Format (Nook only $3.99)

Vist My Website for More Information

Twitter: @NicoleMDixon




               After landing back in Patricio we near immediately took off for Blazer’s Mill, but before heading out I saw Jim French there with the rest of the men. I ran to him, throwing my arms around him enthusiastically, happy to see that he was alive. I looked back at Billy who winked and stood smiling.
               “What happened, Jim?” I asked.
               “Didn’t you ask your boyfriend?”
               “He says you were shot in the leg and couldn’t ride out.”
               “Yeah….” He looked over at Billy. “Sam stuck me under the floorboards of that bed there in the store.”
               “Get the hell out! What then, Jim?” Billy asked, waiting to be captivated by a good tale.
               “Well…I lay there on my back with two six-shooters, listenin’ to them goddamn Dolan boys kicking around, looking for me.”
               “Ya tricked them out good.” Minxie pointed out.
               I was struck dumb by this story.
               Jim’s face grew somber, “Last I heard Peppin managed to arrest Alex, a couple of his house boys, too. And Widenmann.
               “Under whose goddamned authority?” Billy exclaimed.
               “That’s the bitch of it all, Bill. You know authority don’t matter up there.”
               “Yeah…don’t I know it…”
               A thought occurred to me and my wits returned. “How is it you two managed to get shot?” I turned to Billy. “I thought you said you were behind the corral wall.”
               Jim began to answer and I saw Billy give him a sly look, shaking his head slightly. I looked back at Jim, my expression insistent upon him ignoring Billy’s want of discretion. Jim looked between us, uncomfortably caught in the middle.
               Feeling now that he must explain he said, “We ran out after Brady fell…their side was taking shots, you know how it is…” he said, attempting to blow it off and make it seem less alarming than it was. He shook his head and waved his hand dismissively, as if I had indeed “knew” how it was.
               I looked to Billy with an air of consternation. Commenting on my expression, he said to Jim, “This is what I was wanting to avoid…” He looked down and sucked his breath in between his lips, “We was trying to get the warrant for Alex’s arrest—Brady was carrying it.” As an afterthought he said, “And I wanted my gun back.”
               “WERE! Were, Billy! We were trying to get…! Quit speaking like an ignorant imp! And that last part is just plain stupid.”
               “Yeah…thanks Jim,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck absently, his sarcasm overt.
               Just then Richard rode up.
               “What the hell is she doing here?” He bawled. “You’re like the green on a damn bad penny!” He told me. “You were supposed to be in Sumner!”
               “She ‘were’.” Billy responded, droll in his summation; I smirked at his being fresh.
               “She was supposed to stay in Sumner!”     
               “She was…” Billy concurred. “But she didn’t.” 
               “Roberts was spotted up the Rinconada.” Charlie panted, catching up to the crowd of us.
               George and Frank Coe were ready to start out after him, and once all the boys were gathered we started out immediately, Minxie staying behind. We headed up the Ruidoso, spending the night on the Rinconada.
               As the campfire burned, the remains of a stray, slaughtered steer were cooked. Billy nudged my arm and pointed out to where I could see a shadowy gathering of people in the fading light as they passed by on horseback.
               “Apaches,” he said.
               Upon hearing this, I blanched and he got himself a good kick out of it, funning me being his reason for pointing them out in the first place. He intended to alarm me for his own pleasure; he told me on purpose!
               “Stand down, Lu…they won’t bother us,” he assured me. “There’s plenty of us around.” He clapped me on the back and got up, leaving me to sit there, panicked.

               We arrived at Blazer’s Mill and the men rudely demanded supper of the inhabitants. Feeling shamed by their bad manners, I managed to eat only a little, though I was urged to eat more. Refusing, I left the table and stepped out to see to Viola, petting her along the black shading of her sleek face.
               “My pretty little Dapple Grey,” I said with affection.
               She nudged me approvingly, nickering, and I slid my hand along her snout in appreciation when I heard a state of agitation from around the side of the house. I peered around the wall to investigate, finding that the men were all standing there, guns undone and at the ready. An older man I did not recognize sat with a rifle propped on his lap as he stared down the Regulators as they surrounded him. I watched with terror, but fascinated nonetheless, both wondering and worrying what it was that would happen.
               I could see Frank Coe speaking to the old man as if the two were old friends. I heard him say, “You will not be hurt, upon my word, if you surrender.” To which the old man responded that he did not believe this, refusing to give up his disposition. He then made a comment I could not hear to the crowd of men before him and a shot had been fired by our side, prompting an all-out firing match. I backed around the corner of the house as the bullets flew, sidling up close to the wall and getting down on the ground, using my arms to shield my head against the skirmish. When the volley had quit I very slowly emerged, still in a crouched position, to peek around side of the house again and view what remained of the fray. Some of our boys were scattered, prone on the ground. I was jolted by this horror, and witnessed Richard walk off, dogged by the haunting resolution of the promise he made to John, citing he would get every last one of them before his last breath was due.
               “Where the hell is Lucy?” Billy’s unmistakable voice shouted.
               “I’m here!” I returned, rushing out to him.
               “GET BACK!” He intensely commanded, his tone startling me into retreating. I watching him come toward me as he held his arm—I could see that he was bleeding there. I opened my mouth with the intention of asking him if he was okay, reaching out to touch him, but the words did not come. The fracas was so chaotic, the air so thick with the acrid smell of gunfire and kicked up dust that it clouded my eyes, fogged my mind, and coated my throat so that I could not even manage to ask something so simple as if he was all right.
               When I had gone out to Viola, I had untethered her as I planned to ride her around a bit while the others finished eating, anticipating that they’d sit around talking about the war and their plans for it which was always an unhappy topic with me.
               Now, always a fair high-strung, Viola bolted at the sound of gunfire. Unfettered and confused by the frenzied disorder, she bucked back and then forward, trotting far enough out to stray near the firing zone, which, to be honest, could have been just about everywhere.
               “VIOLA!” I went to run to her but Billy grabbed me and forcibly slammed me back against the wall. I reached out in her direction as I tried to get away from him but he held me fast against that wall.
               Bullets flared again, blazing by and hitting the edge of the house causing splinters to spray and skin us both. I heard Viola whicker abnormally and squeal wildly before watching her go down. I kicked at Billy and nearly broke free but he had pushed me back hard.
               “STAY PUT, GODDAMMIT!” he yelled directly into my face, his eyes stark as he ordered me.
               He put his good arm around me, buckling me, and pulled me with him down to the ground. I kept struggling to look towards Viola so I could at least see her, but Billy shielded me, hovering over me as best as he could to keep me safe and from being hit by the gunfire.
               When the firing stopped again, Billy lifted his head and turned it, peering out and squinting through the dust in an attempt to see what was happening. While he was distracted with this I slid out from under him and ran to Viola who now lay in the dirt making such horrible gasping, whining sounds—sounds I had never in my life heard a horse make. I knelt down beside her and frantically laid my head upon her side, scared for her, when Billy grabbed me again and began to pull me back. I fought him off, his wounded arm’s strength waning and unable to get purchase of me. I looked up and to the devil’s delight I had done so at such an unfortunate moment—I saw the back of Richard’s head explode, a surge of red spraying thickly, bloody mist mingling with the unsettled dust, gore marking the ground with bits and pieces of him. I stayed still, hearing nothing after witnessing this sight—not Billy screaming at me, not Viola shrilly crying out, not the other men yelling…I only saw Richard, face down in the dust, his gaping head wound explicitly visible. I raised my hands to the sides of my face, pushing my hat back and squeezing them against my ears in shock, my eyes staring, bewildered. It was all over after that.
                Reality came back quickly enough and I quickly knelt down and placed my hand upon Viola, feeling her flank rise and fall with each shallow breath, her lungs struggling. The others ran towards us and the horses, hollering about getting a wagon for our wounded and getting the hell out. As they scattered about, preparing the horses and other necessities to leave, the sooner the better, I remained kneeling by Viola, talking to her, telling her it was okay.
               Billy watched me pitifully, but with a grave, stern voice he said, “She’s hurt, Lu. She’s hurt real bad.”
               I was crying over her body now, sniffling audibly.
               “You got to put her down, Lu.”
               I looked to him, wide-eyed and irate. “She’ll be fine. Billy, she’ll be fine. She only needs her wound to be tended to, it’s her leg. It’s only her leg!”
               “Her knee’s been blown out, Lucy! And she’s caught one in her breast. There’s nothing to be done for her.”
               Men were rushing all about us in a fit of confusion, and we two sat there as though displaced, ensconced in this small tragedy within a larger one. I barely made a move except to sooth Viola, deluded.
               “You put your horse down, Lucy!” Billy yelled, knowing my thoughts and how he needed to get through them to me.
               “SHUT UP! Don’t you SAY that to me!” I pushed him and slapped at his face. He grabbed a hold of my arms and held them so tight it hurt.
               In a blatant, unforgiving voice he said, “Do you see what’s going on here? We don’t have time for this! This is your obligation to take care of! Take your gun out and put your goddamned horse down! She’s suffering, Lu!”
               “I WON’T!” I cried. Leave me here, leave me alone! You can go and I’ll stay!” I looked upon him maliciously. “It’s what you want anyway! Leave me with my horse! Nobody asked for your opinion! I certainly don’t care for it!”
               “Nobody has to ask for my opinion. I’m not leaving this horse here like this and she’s your responsibility. You take your fucking gun out!”
               The boys who could stand stopped running about and gathered around us to watch the scene unfold. Steve Stephens, Big John Scroggins, Henry Brown, Fred Wait, Jose Chavez Y Chavez, and Charlie Bowdre, who tended to his wounded abdomen by pressing his hand against the ache there. He was barely able to stand, and only by the grace of God did the bullet deflect from his buckle, leaving him in pain, still. Josiah, shot through the leg, managed to stand with help from Henry and Fred, watching the scene as well.
               Billy leaned in to me, close to my ear, whispering, “Lucy…she’s your horse. She’s down. Put her out of her misery.”
               I only sat quietly, rocking with my hands folded across myself, my hands curled into fists, like the child I was.
               “We don’t have time for this—“ Henry.
               Billy held up his hand to silence him.
               “Billy…” I begged. “Please…leave me. I can’t do this. Don’t make me.”
               “Do it!” He yelled.
               I shook my head and wept, still holding on to myself. Charlie, who took pity on me, said, “Jesus, Billy…don’t—“
               Billy placed the hand of his good arm around my throat, just below my jaw, applying enough pressure to cause me to stand up along with him. He looked me in the eyes firmly and, with a tremendous lack of both patience and empathy, but with an understanding that had broken my heart all the same despite the angry thoughts I had for him, he said to me, “You want to be here? If you can’t even kill a horse, you can’t kill a man. If you want to survive out here, you can’t look the part, Lucy, you have to play it. We lost our captain. We lost Brewer. Roberts blew him apart like he didn’t matter nothing to him, and he didn’t. And now you want to sit here crying over a horse! Now, your horse is in pain, she’s done for. Take that fancy horseshoed Schofield out of its scabbard and go to work.”
               I fell apart and grabbed at his jacket, holding on to him, barely able to stand. “Billy? Please? I can’t!” I sobbed. He grabbed my arms, pulling me off of him, and then pulling me back down to the dust. He took the gun from my left hip and placed in within my right hand. At first I refused to hold the gun, but he placed his hand over mine and secured it, squeezing it against the grips. He cocked the hammer and, without removing his hand he guided mine, gun at the ready, placing it directly upon Viola’s brow, squarely between her eyes.
               “Pull the trigger,” he gently commanded, still covering my hand with his own, not letting go; letting me know he was with me.
               “Show me that strength of yours. Prove to me what you’ve been preaching at me. Prove to me that you can be brave. This is the right thing to do, I wouldn’t lead you wrong.”
               Viola’s cries had gone from a piercing desperation to a mere gasping, her once magnificent lungs expended, her nostrils stirring up dust before her and emitting a ghostly vapor against the cold. Her breathing was labored, the full weight of her body bearing down upon her as she lay helpless on her side. I still sat there, gun in hand, poised against Viola’s skull.
               “I’m here with you, Lucy. I’m right here,” he said, gently. Lovingly, he painfully managed to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear with his wounded arm.
               “Pull the trigger and be done with it. Your horse needs you now. She’s suffering; she’s scared and she’s dying. To not do this would be cruel. Trust me. You are hurting her far worse by refusing what I say.”
               All the men stood watching silently. Billy remained quiet, staring at me, urging me with his eyes and trying, I know, to give me some of his own strength. I closed my eyes, preparing to do what I was told must be done.
               “No! Open your eyes, Lucy. Open them!” he demanded.
               “Jesus Billy…” came from somewhere around us.
               After what seemed a lifetime, I obeyed and opened my eyes, and I pulled the trigger, screaming as I did so in order to help summon the ability to do what felt impossible. I watched the blood spray over her and pour from her, seeping to the ground, the life going out of her by my own hand. As Viola lay silent, the men stood with their heads down. Not over the death of my horse, but over the burgeoning death of my innocence.
               “We need to go.” Josiah softly said, attempting to be respectful towards my aggrieved state of being. I stood, and Billy slowly stood up alongside me, still peering at my face. Peripherally, I could see him watching. Without so much as a glance towards him I said, “I hate you.”, and I walked on, away from him. Away from them all towards the readied horses and the wagon that was prepared to pull our wounded. I chose a horse, Middleton’s, I think, as he was placed in the wagon and hauled off to be treated. The others quickly gathered my belongings from my now dead horse and hurriedly exchanged them for Middleton’s, placing his along with him in the wagon.

               We moved out like bats out of hell.