"To Stand with Angels": Excerpt of Chapter 2

Bradyn started to come around. The little boy’s shouts had roused him momentarily but the cold water woke him right up. Opening his eyes, he watched her. She was so busy wiping his chest that she failed to see he was awake.

She had amber eyes. Wide-set and lined with thick black lashes, they glowed as streaks of sunlight came through the window and refracted from their fiery depths. They reminded him of the deep color of canyon walls reflecting a sunset.

How do you like that? I managed to stumble across a pretty woman even though I was knocked out. Bradyn winced as she wiped a laceration on his abdomen.

Her lips were pursed in concentration. Creamy, golden skin covered flawless cheekbones and a slender neck. Her hair was twisted into a thick, dark brown knot at the back of her head, save for a few frazzled strands that hung in wavy curls around her forehead and neck. He smiled, imagining that they had come free during her frantic efforts to get him back into bed.

“What’s your name?” he asked. His words came out low and raspy. My throat feels as dry as the desert in July. Damn, I’m dying of thirst.

She jerked and her eyes grew wide. Then her startled expression disappeared behind a mask of indifference. “Rian Keene,” she replied, giving him a cool appraisal. “I didn’t know you were awake,” she mumbled as she went back washing his chest.

“Rian,” he murmured thoughtfully as he watched her. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and kept her head low as she focused on cleaning his chest wounds. He supposed that his earlier comment had frightened her. He wished he’d kept his mouth shut. It wasn’t very smart to offend the person who’d saved his life. From the look of her, she undoubtedly had a man about who would be more than happy to shoot him for insulting her.

He watched her pour some alcohol onto a wad of cotton. She dabbed at the cut on his cheek, her face void of emotion. Bradyn gritted his teeth together as the alcohol stung the wound.

The hair on his face itched. “Feels like I could use a shave,” he said, trying to get her to make eye contact.

“You were delirious,” she said. “The way you kicked and shouted, I wasn’t about to try and shave you. The Lord knows you don’t need another cut to add to your current repertoire.”

“Delirious?” Bradyn looked around the room. He brought his eyes back to rest on her face. “Tell me, how long have I been here?”

Placing the cotton and the alcohol on the table, she wiped her hands on her apron. “Nearly four days.”

“Four days…I’ve been unconscious that long?”

“Yes. Well, longer I’m sure. You were unconscious when your horse brought you in.” She commenced to assist him into a reclining position and fluff his pillows.

His quiet groan was the only hint he gave to the pain that movement evoked. But on the inside, he was screaming. Bradyn couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in this much hurt. He took a deep breath and settled back against the soft pillows.

“So you’ve been looking after me then,” he said as he ran a finger slowly along the cut on his cheek. “I’m obliged to you.”

Rian stirred the cereal that had cooled down since she had first brought it into the room. “Think nothing of it,” she said. Her tone was indifferent. She scooped some cereal into the spoon and gestured to him, “I think you should eat this. Then I’ll give you some medicine that will take the edge off your pain.”

“I’m thirsty,” Bradyn remarked as he took the bowl from her. “Might I trouble you for some water?”

Rian nodded and filled the dipper from the bucket. He guzzled the water greedily. It tasted wonderful. Cold dribbles of it ran down his chin and his chest. He drank three dippers full before he started eating his breakfast.

“You here alone?” he asked amid unhurried bites.

Rian frowned at him. Her unease at his question was obvious. “Of course not. My nephew lives here with me.”

“Your nephew? How old is he?” Bradyn stopped eating and cast a side-long glance in her direction. “He’s not that scrawny little kid that was in here before, is he?” He took a slow sip of the coffee.

“You certainly are very nosy,” she deflected. “I don’t see how that is any of your business, Mr. Preston.”

He stifled a grin as she took a seat on the bedside chair and folded her hands in her lap as primly as any school marm. “You’re absolutely right,” he said as he lifted another spoonful of cornmeal to his mouth. “I would just assume that a woman of your fine appearance would have the good sense not to live in the middle of the wilderness alone. And, if you don’t mind my saying so, having a kid ain’t much better than being alone. In fact, it’s probably quite a lot worse.”

“My safety is clearly the least of your worries in my opinion, sir,” she retorted. Bradyn admired the fire that leapt into her eyes. “I would be concerned with the preservation of my own neck if I were you. You seem to have some pretty vicious enemies, Mr. Preston. Perhaps justly so. Besides, any man who is foolish enough to endanger his own well-being by involving himself in brawling and Lord-knows-what-else, has no business questioning the choices of another,” she finished sternly.

“What makes you think I am concerned with your safety?” he asked. He flexed the muscles in his jaw as he assessed her. “What if I just want to know how easy it would be to take advantage of you?”

He expected his words to frighten the living day right out of her, so when she laughed out loud, it startled him. “No offense, Mr. Preston, but I don’t think you are in any condition to take advantage of anyone.”

“And when I am well enough to try?” He knew he should’ve put a clamp on his tongue, but, the urge to ruffle her feathers was appealing and irresistible. She was so darn beautiful.

“I met you with a rifle the day you first came here.” She sat up tall in her chair, her eyes flashing with amber challenge. “If you hadn’t been hurt, I would have shot you square on the spot.”

Bradyn raised his eyebrow. “Is that so?” he asked, resisting a smile.

“Damn right,” she replied. “And if you don’t be quiet and finish your breakfast, I’m liable to shoot you still.”

He couldn’t stop the chuckle that rumbled deep within his chest. “You’ve got a sharp tongue behind your pretty mouth, that’s for sure. Tell me, how did such a lovely woman come to live in this God-forsaken country thirty miles from the nearest town anyway?”

Garnering a chuckle and a compliment from him seemed to give her a small sense of ease. However, her voice was full of sarcasm as she asked, “Would you prefer to hear the long or the short version of the particular story, Mr. Preston?”

“The long. I’ve got time it seems,” he replied with enthusiasm.

Rian narrowed her eyes when he offered a dazzling smile. He wondered if his superfluous facial hair and injuries made him look repulsive to her.

“The short it is,” she answered. There was a faint glimmer of mirth in her eyes. “My brother moved out here with his wife nearly seven years ago and I came along for the ride. Does that answer your question?”

Bradyn blew out a sigh of forced resignation. “Guess it does. Or at least, it has to for now.”

Rian stood up. She looked anxious to leave the room. “Good, now that the only conversation we’ll need to make is out of the way, and since you’ve finished your breakfast, you should drink this medicine. It will help with the pain and swelling.” She handed him the tin cup and watched him swallow it in one gulp.

“That’s awful!” He coughed while choking down the nasty mixture. “What is it?”

“Willow bark powder and brandy. It’s a pain reliever,” she explained, gathering the bowl, spoon, and cup and placing them back on the tray.

“Let me get this straight. You nearly choked me to death on some silly powder to help me feel better?” he asked.

He noticed the smile that tugged at her mouth when he gave her a dubious expression. “Medicine is not intended to taste good, Mr. Preston. That’s why they call it medicine and not candy.” There was a touch of pride in her eyes and a condescending, motherly tone in her voice.

“Well, thanks just the same, honey, but I’d rather not have that marvelous little treat again. Just give me a straight shot of whiskey next time,” he snorted.

She rolled her eyes in a manner suggesting that she supposed his kind would always prefer straight whiskey, and made no comment. As he watched her pick up the tray and leave the room, Bradyn decided she was going to take some careful handling. She wasn’t the type of woman who cottoned to his methods of teasing, that much was clear. Rian Keene was a skittish one, not the usual sort of woman he would be interested in, and yet Bradyn found himself looking forward to the next time she set foot in the room. I’ll watch my big mouth next time, he vowed.

An excerpt of my novel...

Rian stopped her horse atop the same plateau on which Bradyn had stood only a few hours before. Kendall was sleeping in her arms. Her gaze traveled across the valley lighted by a dim red horizon. She had no idea what time it was, but she knew that sundown had come too early today. Far too early.

The lights of Laramie glittered in the distance. What would have been a welcoming, heart-warming sight for a wayfaring stranger only filled her heart with dark apprehension. A black aura had begun building a cocoon around the city. It was the presence of evil making itself known. She shuddered and shifted Kendall gently.

Bradyn was down there. He was there in the town. She could sense him. She could see his light. It was a tiny, shining speck of blue against the black.

The auras had come and gone all afternoon until she and Kendall had seen the ravens. After that, the colors had remained. As their journey had progressed, she had begun to feel excitement at the new phenomenon that had captivated her senses. A turbulent knowledge awakened within her. This was all happening for a reason and she knew she had some part to play in whatever dark horror was coming.

Wind and shadow encompassed her. A fierce tremor ran through her body as she sat looking out into the twilight sky. She ran her hand over the dagger strapped to her thigh, its cool hilt filling her with valiant anticipation. A fluid understanding pulsated deep inside her soul. It was ancient and powerful. She didn’t know where the knowledge came from, but she knew a battle lay ahead. A battle of Life and Death. It was fast approaching, and she knew that there was so much more at stake than a few human lives. She didn’t know if the man Bradyn had ridden into town to meet was there, but she felt a presence. An evil presence. She knew it was waiting for them to come.

Her dream from the night before, which now seemed eons in the past, resurfaced in her memory for the thousandth time that day. There are two of them and they are waiting for you Bradyn.
She ran a finger down the length of the dagger. “Please be careful. Please be safe. I love you,” she whispered as she watched his aura twinkle in the darkness below. “I love you.”

The mare blew out a breath and shifted its weight easily underneath them. Kendall slept on, his breathing deep and even. He was so unaware, so untouched by the world around him. Rian sat watching his face with silent awe. She was unwilling to wake him just yet. She didn’t even want to move. A voice inside told her to wait. Tonight she would have to ride into the valley of shadow, but not right now. Her presence would be needed very soon, the voice told her, but not yet. Not yet.

Rian's Torment ~ An excerpt of my novel "To Stand with Angels"~

Rian awoke with a start. Cold sweat was running down her back. She sat up and felt not the soft down of her bed, but the hard grit of gravel and dirt beneath her finger tips. She looked about in confusion. Then, with terror, she recognized her surroundings. She had been here many times before.

It was twilight. The sky was still an ugly, murky orange marbled with engorged, blackish-red clouds. She shuddered as she looked up the empty street. The buildings on either side stood dark and stared vacantly down at her with windows that were hollow, ominous eyes. Their shutters flapped sluggishly despite the fact that the air was eerily still and malignant. A chill ran down her spine as she turned to look along the other side of the street.

At the far end, just at the town’s edge, was the outline of a man sitting on a horse as black as the Devil’s heart. It was not the horse, but the man, injured and slumping atop the horse, that drew her attention. This time, she knew who it was.

She could not make out his face but the picture was all too familiar. A scream, silent and gagging, wedged in her throat. Rising with the horrid sluggishness of one trapped in a nightmare, Rian ran to the horse. Her footsteps clanged like the fall of a blacksmith’s hammer on steel as they struck the ground. “Bradyn!” she cried in a voice barely more than a mocking whisper.

"Bradyn!”

Limp and lifeless, he sat upon the horse whose eyes glowed with the raging fires of Hell’s brimstone. His body was riddled with bullet holes, but only a thin trickle of blood ran from his chest. She screamed out to him again and this time he lifted his gaze to her. Rian felt her blood run cold as she looked at his face. He was missing an eye and his mouth was nothing more than a bloody, bashed-in hole. She saw that his hands had been sliced and bruised, then tied to the saddle horn in horrible reminiscence of the day she’d first seen him.

Fierce anger and numbing fear drove her to his side. Stumbling up to the horse, she worked frantically to untie him.

“I wouldn’t touch him if I were you.” A voice as deep as a river and as electrifying as a jagged streak of lightning filled the street. “I wouldn’t touch him.”

Rian turned slowly and felt the fury of a thousand hurricanes begin to churn through her blood. Two figures stood at the other end of the town. They were black against a dismal setting sun. Their dusters flapped lifelessly in the heavy, unmoving air. Why were there two men now? Who had the demon brought with him?

“Stay away from us!” She heard her voice, a foreign and distant shriek, echoing down the dead-calm street.

A rumbling chuckle drifted through the town. Quiet at first, it grew in volume until it was an eerie, ubiquitous thundering. Ravens gathered by the hundreds on the roof tops and along the streets, their cackling caws blending with the demonic laughter.

“Stay away from us!” she shouted again. Her eyes searched the town for someone, anyone who could help her.

One of the men began walking toward her, his body weaving hypnotically. He floated down the street as though his feet did not touch the ground. She worked furiously to untie Bradyn, but the knot only grew tighter with her efforts. “Bradyn!” she shrieked. “Bradyn, you have to get out of here! You have to! If you go into town, they’ll kill you!”

“Who’ll kill me?” Bradyn asked. His brutalized face twisted into a horrific, toothless smile. “No one is going to kill me, Rian,” he assured her in a taunting voice.

“It’s too late for him.” The voice, menacing and barely more than a whisper, touched her ears.

She turned. He was standing right behind her now. Shrouded in the purest black, his eyes glowing red from beneath the brim of his hat, he stared at her with a wide grin upon his face.
Rian choked on her tongue as it rolled with thick, terrified indolence to the back of her mouth. She knew him, she knew his face. Long, bony fingers closed around her arms as he smiled evilly down at her. His teeth were sharp fangs, long and viciously canine. His eyes were a dastardly, malicious yellow now.

“I’m coming for you,” he whispered as he licked his lips like a feral dog. “I’m going to kill your precious lover, and then I’m going to rip your heart out of your chest and eat it. I’m coming for you, Moriana.”

“No!” Rian screeched as she felt his teeth sink into her neck with rabid hunger. She looked up at Bradyn sitting lifeless on the horse. His eyes were glassy with death. She hadn’t been able to save him. “No!” she screamed again. ”Oh, Bradyn, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

"TO STAND WITH ANGELS" on sale now at Amazon (PRINT & KINDLE) and Eternal Press (EBOOK EDITION).

Kyle Bodeen…The “To Stand with Angels” character inspired by Josh Holloway.

Cool green eyes? Check.
Sweet, southern charm? Check
Golden mane and silver tongue? Check-check.
A smile to melt your insides and a body to turn any saint into a sinner? Oh, yeah.

Kyle Bodeen was the first, and main, character to be “cast” in my novel, “To Stand with Angels”. Inspired by Josh Holloway’s character, “James ‘Sawyer’ Ford” (of ABC’s “Lost”), Kyle possesses the mannerisms and personality traits that make him much the devilishly handsome, yet mysterious and possibly villainous, character that Mr. Holloway portrayed toward the beginning of the series (though, we all know he was an absolute doll in the end).

Is Kyle a doll? No so much. From the start, he is a charmer. Cool, sophisticated, and well dressed, he comes to town and takes Laramie by storm. He isn’t in that Wild Western, god-forsaken city an hour before he’s solicited as an assasin by Liam Briggs and managed to seduce Liam's girl, Contessa Lang, behind his back.

Contessa falls for Kyle hard, regardless of the danger she puts his life in, should she stir up Liam’s jealous rage. But she needn’t worry. Kyle can take care of himself…


Liam Brigg’s may be “To Stand with Angels- Villain You Love to Hate”, but Kyle Bodeen is this novel’s “Bad-Boy You Can’t Help but Love”… of course, that's just until the fangs come out and his true nature is revealed!

Kyle’s Memorable Quotes:

“I don’t shoot men in the back, Briggs. It’s uninspiring and tasteless to me.”

“A man that lets you wander around dressed like that, in a place like this, alone? He must be pretty jealous alright… or completely insane. I wouldn’t let you a minute out of my sight if you were my woman. Who’s your man? Liam Briggs?”

“You hire guns to kill all your enemies, do ya, Briggs?”

“That boy was too impulsive and reckless. If it hadn’t been you, he would have picked a fight with some other gunslinger and still would have gotten his idiot head blown off. His kind lives to die for foolish reasons.”

“It must be torture to have a soul that remembers every wicked thought and every vile sin.”

“Hello, Liam. What can I do for you? ...Besides your woman, of course.”

Of Cowboys and Demons

It's not too often that the villian becomes the victim, at least not in the strickest sense of the term. But have you noticed that every once in a while, a character that you love to hate gets a huge scoop of karma, and for some reason, even though you know he has it coming, you can't help but pity the poor bastard just the least little bit?

Let me introduce you to Liam Briggs.

Handsome,

Tessa handed him the drink she’d brought from the bar. “Here, baby,” she whispered. “You look like you could use this.”
Liam’s steel grey eyes, as cold as ice and as deceivingly beautiful as the Devil when he tempted Eve, caught a lurid sparkle. He was an attractive man, tall and well-muscled. His ruddy coloring and vibrant red hair were in keeping with his arrogant personality and short-fuse temper.~ To Stand with Angels



a business man,

There was a loud smack as Liam’s hand came down on the table. Cameron noticed that everyone sat up a little straighter, their eyes became a little more attentive, and a collective swallow passed round the table. “Listen up. Preston might just be stupid enough to come back here and that’ll work out nicely with the little arrangement I’m gonna set up with Bodeen.”
“Bodeen?” Cameron’s incredulous snort garnered an irritated look from his brother, though he chose to ignore it. “What the hell kind of deal are you making with him? I thought you wanted him dead!”
Liam smirked and nodded his head with condescending patience. “I do. I already told you that, Cameron. But I need Preston dead first. Bodeen’s the only one fast enough to go up against him and win. He offered to do it for five grand. I think I’ll take him up on that offer.”
“Five thousand dollars?” Cameron whistled. “That’s a lot of scratch to cough up just to have Preston killed.”
“Oh, Bodeen won’t collect,” Liam stated firmly. “I’ll see to that.”~ To Stand with Angels


heavy drinker,


“Baby, do you have to discuss this now?” Tessa protested. “Why don’t you just enjoy a drink or two with the boys and forget about this whole silly business, hmmm?” She rubbed his hand, now resting on her knee, provocatively.
When she pursed her lips into a sultry pout, Liam jerked his hand free and pushed her from his lap. “Shut your mouth, Tessa,” he spat. “What’s the matter? Don’t you like hearing how I plan to kill the pretty bastard you bedded behind my back?”
As he slurred the last few words, Tessa wished she hadn’t brought him the drink. Liam was already quite inebriated and now he was fast approaching the state of sheer belligerence. Instead of telling him exactly what she thought of his ridiculous jealousy and excessive drinking, Tessa rolled her eyes and decided to play the spineless, shrinking violet for a few minutes longer to humor him.
“I really don’t care who you plan on knocking off, baby. I just thought you might like to have some fun tonight.” She touched his cheek and veiled the sudden repulsion that crept over her. “Doesn’t that sound good, Liam?” She leaned down and kissed his ear while running a finger over his lips. “You still want me don’t you, baby?” she whispered softly.
With her smile, she hinted sweet, fleshy promises. Liam closed his eyes for a second. She knew he wanted her. When he opened them again, she saw the anger. He wasn’t going to let her beauty help him forget. Tessa realized that this time, she wouldn’t be allowed to gain his forgiveness with a night of passion.
“Not tonight, Tessa,” he growled as he shoved past her and headed to the bar for another shot of bourbon.~ To Stand with Angels


Murderer...


Kyle paused and looked at Briggs thoughtfully for a moment. “I’ll say one thing for him,” he added, “Preston is damn good with a gun. I actually had the pleasure of making his acquaintance, briefly, a few years ago. Back when he was still on the other side of the law, that is. Saw him kill a man in a square gunfight in Tulsa about two years before I met you. I’d say from his reputation he’s made quite a list of enemies. I think more than a few men would be happy to see him and his marshal brother dead and pine-boxed. Can’t say as I’m too fond of the notion of going up against either of them in a gun fight though. Heard a few weeks back that Dawson was here in Laramie, is that right?”
“Nope. I got rid of him about a month ago. The marshal was noising around, trying to put me up on murder charges of some kind. The bastard had a nice little hunting accident. Somebody mistook him for a mule deer and shot him with a Winchester at four hundred yards.” Liam noted with satisfaction that Kyle was clearly impressed.
“No fooling?’ he asked. “You hire guns to kill all your enemies, do ya, Briggs?”
“Sure,” Liam retorted. Pride swelled in his chest and he curled his lip in a sneer. “I’m too busy running my ranch and this town to bother with a little nuisance blood letting. That’s what money is for, Bodeen.” ~ To Stand with Angels


well...you get the idea.

He's the guy you want to hate.

But then it all starts to fall apart...



Smashing open the door, Liam stopped dead in his tracks. Wes stood beside a chair that pointed toward the west-facing window. An old man with a head full of disheveled white hair sat there, his posture was strikingly stiff. Liam couldn’t see his face, because the old man’s back was to him as he sat there staring out at the black night. Glancing around the room, Liam saw that no one else was present. Confused, he shouted, “Where the hell is Cameron?”
The horrified look on Wes’s face was all the explanation Liam needed as the old man in the chair turned to face him. “I’m here, Liam,” Cameron whispered. “But I won’t be for long. Neither will you. We’re all dead men.”
Liam nearly choked on the scream that burst from his lips. His eyes went wide with terror as he saw the shell of a man that had once been his younger brother. His face was pale, his eyes were sunken and blood-shot, his lips were blue, and his hair…Liam couldn’t take his eyes off his brother’s hair. It was white. So horribly white. “Cameron! What happened to you?” he cried with mingled pity and disgust at his brother’s loathsome appearance.
Cameron sat staring into space with a blank expression on his face. Slowly a dreadful smile parted his lips. He didn’t answer. Instead, he started shaking and manic chuckling filled the room. It was hysterical and bone-chilling. Liam watched in horror, trying to hold the panic he felt rising in his blood at bay as he listened to his brother’s chuckle grow into high-pitched, frenzied laughter. Fury took Liam for one brief moment of bravado and he was across the room in two paces, pulling his brother from the chair and slapping him soundly across the mouth.
“Stop it!” he snarled at Cameron. “Stop it right now, you filthy little bastard, and tell me what the hell is going on!”
Cameron’s laughter died away, but the vacant smile remained. “He is here,” he answered simply.
“Who is here?” Liam asked the question between tightly clenched teeth. When his brother just sat staring at him with the same eerie look on his face, Liam slapped him and asked again, louder this time, “Who the hell is here, Cameron? Tell me!”
“The One who owns your soul, Liam,” Cameron answered. His tone was light and taunting, like that of a child chanting a nursery rhyme. “The One who owns my soul.” Cameron’s smile widened. “He is here.” ~ To Stand with Angels


To read more, visit http://www.cjgabrielbooks.com/ or visit Eternal Press