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by Destiny Blaine
Category: Erotica/Menage Erotica/Historical Fiction
Description: Accustomed to working in a saloon, Mary Margaret isn't sure what her future holds but she doesn't want to spend the rest of her life lying flat on her back. Right when she plans to move on and find another career, five of the sexiest men alive stroll into the Cripple Creek Saloon. Soon, Mary Margaret is their full-time employee but she quickly discovers the men are there for more than a good time and they're promising something very similar to forever.
eBook Publisher: eXtasy eBooks/eXtasy Books, 2012 2012
eBookwise Release Date: June 2012
7 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [165 KB]
Reading time: 102-143 min.
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
By the time they reached the next level, gunfire was coming from everywhere. Buck ducked behind a wall leading to what he assumed was a bathroom. He stepped inside and found a woman there. She was in a crouched position next to a bathtub.
"What's your name, hon?" Jared asked, entering behind him.
"Constance," she said. "Remember I'm the one you met in the hallway the day you came here looking for Mary Margaret."
In the dimly lit room, Buck wasn't able to make out her features but she had the same southern accent he'd admired the day they met Constance for the first time. He'd take her word for it.
"All right," Jared said. "We need you to stay down. We don't want any innocent women getting caught up in the crossfire."
"You're too late," she wailed.
"What do you mean?" Buck asked, kneeling next to her and trying to encourage her to slide in behind the thickest part of the tub.
She shook her head. "There were three of them. They went in Mary Margaret's room."
"Was she in there by herself?" Jared asked.
David snarled. "What the hell do you think?"
Constance shook her head. "I reckon the only one in there was the guy who paid to bathe with her." She pushed his clothing toward them. "And he forgot his gun. It's there in his belt."
Buck stared at the holster placed on top of the britches. He swallowed hard.
"Don't panic," David said. "No one has seen Creed since he took the horses to the stable."
"Is he the one with long hair?"
"Yep," Buck replied.
She shook her head quickly. "He was the first to die."
"What?" David asked, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Are you sure?"
She nodded. "Positive."
"Did you see him get shot?"
"Yes. It was horrible. Someone fired through the door. I guess it must've been the man who came out of the room with Mary Margaret's gun. I'd know that gun anywhere. Her daddy left it for her--God rest his soul--before he died. Mary Margaret's aunt gave it to her the last time she went to Stockton. It's the only rifle I've ever seen with a large plate and lots of scribbling on the side." A beat later, she said innocently, "His name must've been Winchester because that's the name on the rifle."
"You ain't seen many weapons, have you girl?" Jared asked.
"About Creed," David began, refusing to believe his best friend was dead, "you're sure it was a tall Indian-looking fellow. He has long dark blonde--nearly brown--hair, high cheeks, and a big mouth."
"Creed doesn't have a big mouth," Buck said.
"Sure he does," Jared said. "He runs it all the time when the guns start firing. Haven't you ever listened to him?"
About that time, and before Constance could reply, Creed shouted out, "Son-of-a-two-timin'-fucking-lowdown-bitch! You missed again mother fucker!"
"Constance," Jared said gently, "I believe you need to pay closer attention to detail. That voice out there? That's Creed."
"Oh," she said, shrugging. "Well I'm glad your friend is alive." She extended her full arms. "Wonder if he is wearing his pants?"