The LOOK Challenge from Jacquie Rogers

I've been tagged in the "look" challenge by Jacquie Rogers. According to the rules, you're supposed to do a search in your work in progress for the word "look" and then paste the surrounding paragraph(s) and tag as many people as possible.


I Tagged -
http://patyjager.blogspot.com/
http://terithackston.blogspot.com/
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/686106.Jude_Johnson/blog
http://emmalaiwrites.blogspot.com/
http://onewomanswrite.blogspot.com/
http://www.jerriealexander.com/
http://sandramarshallblog.blogspot.com/



A Love of His Own is my latest release. It's a short time travel set in the Texas Panhandle in 1892.

Rifle cocked, she stepped in the direction of the snoring. Thomas always said she could sneak up on Satan himself. She hoped her skill served her well today.

Lying on her precious wheat, breaking the stalks flat and making it useless, was a big, burly man. Wrapped in someone’s finely stitched quilt, he had a brown felt hat over his eyes. One arm lay across his chest, the other cradled a new-fangled model Winchester, so new the shine hadn’t yet worn off.

She snatched the rifle from his arm. The dang fool didn’t open his eyes. Dipsey thumped him on the shoulder with the butt of his weapon. He farted and rolled to his side exposing a muscled butt and legs encased in denims. She stumbled back a few steps. Disgusting man!

She fired off a couple of bullets sending wheat flipping into the air two yards above the man’s head. Darnit. More of her precious crop damaged. If the waste continued, her animals would go hungry this winter, and she didn’t have the money to buy feed.

The man lurched to his feet. “Holy hell.” He started toward Dipsey. “What the hell are you doing, woman?”

She cocked the rifle. “Stay put, mister.”

He halted and eyed her weapon before turning his gaze to her. His stare traveled from her boots, past her worn, brown wool dress to her face; his eyes widened when they landed on her scar. She expected to see aversion. Most people shunned her because of her past profession. If they didn’t know of her life as a whore, the ugly scar on her forehead caused them to look away. The man didn’t appear put off. He actually smiled before his expression sobered.

“Could you lower your rifle?”

She snorted. Did he think she was crazy? “Who are you and what are you doing on my land?”

“Your land? I’ll have you know....” He turned in a slow circle while taking in his surroundings.

I've tagged

Paty Jager http://patyjager.blogspot.com/
Teri Thackson  http://terithackston.blogspot.com/
Jude Johnson http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/686106.Jude_Johnson/blog
Emma Lai  http://emmalaiwrites.blogspot.com/
Linda Rettstatt http://onewomanswrite.blogspot.com/
Jerrie Alexander  http://www.jerriealexander.com/
Sandra K. Marshall http://sandramarshallblog.blogspot.com/

Have fun!

Linda
www.lindalaroque.com
http://www.lindalaroqueauthor.blogspot.com