Larriane Wills a.k.a. Larion Wills

When Catherine left Chicago leaving behind shame and heart break, she never expected to be thrown into chaos or for the source of her heartbreak to follow.

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Excerpt 1--Epilogue

The quirt swished through the air and cracked to viciously split cloth and skin. The child, a gangly adolescent, did not cry out. He ground his teeth together to keep the screams of pain trapped in his throat. The screams of helplessness and horror came from Lars, a child of the same age, and his Mama. Neither was strong enough to stop the brutal whipping though both tried desperately. Despite Sam Fetchen�s skeletal build, both were thrown back repeatedly. The only consolation for Clyde was that they wanted to help, but it only eased the pain of mind. His father didn�t stop until Clyde was in the dirt, too weak to get up when Sam dragged him away.

Excerpt # 2

Never in her life had Catherine seen a man more filthy or mean looking. He was of medium height and gaunt. His hair was long, uncut, unkempt, and matted. He had a growth of facial hair, not long enough to call a beard, and it was encrusted with partials of food from past meals. All the creases in his face, hands, neck, and even his clothes were filled with dirt, and his clothes were patched and worn to rags.
            �Looken fer my boy,� the man said.
            �No Fetchen in here,� Brivers retorted. �I don�t want my place smelling. You get out."
            �Ya�d let Clyde in,� the man said with a glint in his eyes.
            Brivers gasped and paled. Fetchen chuckled and moved closer. He taunted maliciously while Brivers backed away. �Might be he�s har now, waiten fer his ole pa.�
            �No, no,� Brivers said faintly.
            Catherine backed off as well. Not because she felt threatened as Brivers obviously did, but because the man�s body odor was offensive. Her movement took his eyes to her.
            �Who you be?�
             �Who I am is none of your concern.� His manner and condition disgusted her so she turned away.
              His bony fingers clutched her arm. �Ya won�t be talking like dat ta Clyde,� he hissed at her.
               She hissed back, �If he is as dirty, smelly, and rude as you are, I will,� and jerked to free her arm.

Except #3

The man was Lars� age, middle twenties, and he hesitated at the door to get his bearings. He was tall, nearly as tall as Lars, with broad shoulders. Under the heavy sheep skin coat you could tell where Lars was thick and massive of muscle, this man�s body tapered to slim hips and long legs. He had light brown hair peeking out from under his hat, but his eyes were dark brown.
            His looked to be a man coming in from the cold in search of a warm place to sleep. Saddle bags and blanket roll were over his right shoulder, and a rifle was in his left hand. His right hand was still on the door knob and both hands were still covered with gloves against the bitter cold outside. To hesitate before entering a strange room was normal. The next wasn�t. He glance fell on Catherine, and her expression of hatred held his attention in puzzlement.
            Lars jumped to his feet, turned over his chair and yelled. The room exploded. The roar of multiple gunshots was deafening, and the man was flung back out the door by force of the slugs tearing into his body.

Excerpt # 4

�That man is a gun fighter,� Charles said stiffly. �Get him out of my house now.�
            �You don�t know who he is, and you do not have the right to judge him,� Catherine told him and turned Charles� rage back on him.
            �You repay our kindness by defying me, flaunting your indiscretions, and��
              �You didn�t take me in; you sent a request for help. If Papa had known what you had in your mind, he would never have let me come. If I had known, I never would have accepted.
            �You had little choice after the way you shamed yourself and your family.�
            �I came for reasons of my own, not because of some petty gossip.�     
            �That man is as bad as the other one.� He pointed at Chancy. �He makes his living with that.� He pointed to the gun still tied to Chancy�s thigh. They had not taken the time to remove it, and the twisting from Lars attempting to lift him had uncovered it. �They�re both murderers.�