Book Title: Poppy (The Montgomery Sisters, Book 2) by Kat Flannery
Category: Adult Fiction, 170 pages
Genre: Historical western romance
Publisher: Picco Press
Release date: May 18, 2018
Tour dates: May 28 to June 15, 2018
Content Rating: PG
Poppy Montgomery has always been good with a gun and could fight her way out of anything. Tough as nails and a sharp shooter, her beauty deceives the outlaws she’s after.
Hot on the trail of the Clemmons gang, a group of outlaws who rob trains and killed an innocent woman and child a few months before, she is determined to make them pay for the sin’s they’ve committed by bringing them to justice.
Pinkerton, Noah Shaw is investigating a ring of stage robberies and knows the Clemmons gang is behind them. Told to track down the infamous redheaded bounty hunter, Noah gets more than he bargained for when he arrests Poppy for assault.
Handcuffed together the pair must work together to stop the robberies, and figure out who is behind them. But what happens when love interferes and thrusts Poppy into discovering emotions she never knew existed? Will she choose the solitude she’s always known or Noah’s sweet embrace?
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EXCERPT – CHAPTER ONE
Outside of Dodge City, Kansas 1884
Poppy reloaded the Winchester tucked between her legs. The pale skin beneath the denims winked at her through the frayed hole in the knee. The slacks had seen better days, and right now the rip was the least of her worries.
When she was on the hunt she packed light; it wasn’t wise to carry too many things that could weigh you down. Nope, she’d brought just the essentials. Except, this time she’d made extra room for a hairbrush and the lavender soap her sister, Fern, had given to her when she’d visited.
A bullet whizzed past, and she ducked lower. She yanked the Stetson off her head and checked it for any holes.
“Damn it.” The bullet had nicked the top, tearing the felt.
She crammed the Stetson back on and cocked her rifle. Her fingers tightened around the handle. The cold barrel rested against her cheek, and she shivered. Here we go. She slid to her stomach and inched the butt around the boulder she hid behind.
She’d been tracking the Clemmons gang for two months, and now she finally had them. The lowlifes were wanted clear across the territory for their robbing of the railroad, but Poppy’s debt was personal. The gang had killed Molly Schmidt and her son, Tad.
She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. She’d never met the girl until the day she’d come across the turned-over stagecoach and found the mother and son sprawled on the dirt ground. Poppy swallowed. The horrid sight was forever etched into her mind. Molly had been alive when she’d found them, but not for long. After Poppy laid the little boy in Molly’s arms, the mother took her last breath. The memory still got to her making her eyes sting and throat work.
Killin’ had never bothered Poppy; she’d done her fair share and seen more than she’d like to admit, but what had her up nights was “Why them?” The thievin’ bastard Lefty Clemmons had murdered the mother and son, and she’d make him pay for what he’d done. The rebel outlaws had taken the lives of others too, but Molly and Tad had stuck with Poppy since the day she’d found them ten miles outside of St. Louis. She didn’t know where the pair was headed, but it’d been clear their deaths were for nothing more than pleasure.
Her eyes watered, and she blinked the wetness away just as another bullet whizzed past her head.
“I ain’t dyin’ today,” she whispered and rolled onto her stomach. Her sister Fern’s lecture on proper etiquette and language rang in her ears. Poppy had always been a bit to the left, as most folks would say. She didn’t take well to rules, and she didn’t take to speaking like a lady. Hell, she had better things to do, like kill the bastards who had her cornered.
She aimed her rifle, seeing two heads pop out of the bushes ahead, and fired. She smiled when she saw one of the outlaws pitch forward and fall to the ground.
“I write because I have to.” – Adrian Meade.
For every writer his or her reasons for writing are different, but Adrian Meade and I have something in common. We write because we have to.
I write to fulfill a purpose.
I have an itch that never goes away, a yearning that fills my soul, and a passion for the words yet to come. The moment I place fingers to keyboard, or pen to paper I feel released from the ties that bind me to a normal everyday life. I relish in the ability to take myself to another world where love and evil exist, and I can choose to make love conquer all.
I write because I have to.
I write to fulfill a need, a constant thought. It is a push from behind. A part of who I am—it is in my bones—in my blood. The very breath within my lungs exhales through my fingers.
I write to stop the constant whispers inside my head. To halt the flashes of scenes and dialogue that run across my mind. I write to stop my hands from shaking. I write so I can sleep at night.
I write to tell a story, to touch lives, to bring you into a world that is not your own. I write to evoke your emotions, to draw a tear, to cause a frown, and to make you laugh.
I write to stay sane…to calm my heart…to fulfill a promise.
I write because I have to.
Her debut novel CHASING CLOVERS has been an Amazon Top 100 Paid bestseller. LAKOTA HONOR and BLOOD CURSE (Branded Trilogy) are Kat’s two award-winning novels and HAZARDOUS UNIONS is Kat’s first novella. Kat is currently hard at work on her next series, THE MONTGOMERY SISTERS.