I promised an excerpt of Guns of Perdition and I am a woman of her word. Without any further to-do, here’s an excerpt from Chapter Twenty-Five
He cried out and woke in a dark room. Thick velvet curtains were drawn across the window. Behind the curtains, Johnny could see the grey light of pre-dawn. He sat up on a sumptuous bed laden with silks and satin blankets. As his fingers grazed the gaudy material he had a vivid memory of roughly taking one of the brothel whores while another nibbled on his neck and a third licked his chest. He shuddered at the memory and peeled the silks off his sweat-soaked body. Other memories assaulted him as he stood; all involving carnal sin, flesh and fornication. Johnny sat on the edge of the bed and tried to think of something – anything – other than wild debauchery. He frowned as he realised that beyond his own name, he couldn’t really think of anything.
He rose to his feet and stumbled through the darkness until he found his way to a table. He fumbled in the darkness until he managed to strike a match and light a kerosene lamp. With a soft, warm glow to guide him, Johnny gazed around the room with a sick feeling in his stomach. There was little in the room to suggest his character, if indeed it even was his room. He crossed the floor and stopped to pick up a frilly piece of lace lingerie. He frowned as he looked at the pale, pink piece. It was marred with a brown spot. Johnny jerked and dropped the item as he realised it was blood. He turned and wandered to the large armoire and opened one of the brass-handled doors. When the door swung open Johnny cried out in alarm as the mirror on the inside of the door spooked him. With his heart thumping madly in his chest, Johnny gave the young man in the mirror a wry smile. He ran a hand through his damp, straw-blond hair and was about to turn away when his gaze caught something in the reflection. Johnny leaned closer to his reflection and tilted his head. He peered at his neck and frowned. A smear of dark, dried blood marred his tanned skin. He rubbed the smear with his fingertips and the dried blood brushed off.
Power in the blood, boy.
Watch this space for more news and updates as the WIP gets ever closer to finished.