In my cyber-travels earlier today, I happened upon a conversation about westerns, which asked why no one seems to write or want to read them. I wonder that too, and agree it’s a shame. I love westerns (I just finished Longmire, and if you haven’t watched that show, you should!). I’ve read tons of westerns (I have all of Zane Grey’s books in gorgeous, matching hardcovers), and one of my favorite books (book, note, not movie) is Shane. We need more westerns!
And just like I love westerns, I love science fiction. That’s part of the whole fun of the Deuces Wild series – cowboys and spaceships. I might try to write a true western one day, but for now, I’ll stick to my westerns-in-space series.
And I thought I’d share a snip of a scene from the first Deuces Wild book: Beginners’ Luck, just because it was fun to write, and I love to share the fun stuff.
I don’t know that any context is needed, it’s the juxtaposition of the two seemingly disparate genres in the scene that makes it amusing. To me, at least. Your mileage may vary:
…the whine of hover bikes grew behind him. He spun. Three of them. He grabbed a plasma grenade and lobbed it. One bike took the hit, but the other two swerved, flanking him. He dove to the ground, firing left, rolling, and firing right. He missed.
The bikes circled to make another run. But Tristan had more time to aim. Hot sand sprayed in his face as he fired. He rolled again, coughing and blinking, and fired toward the sounds of a bike.
He held still in the ensuing, relative quiet, listening for a bike as the dust settled. He raised his head, and found himself staring up at the bike’s rider, a laser pistol leveled at him.
A wild cowboy whoop echoed just then, and the biker whirled. A large copper-colored horse thundered up, Slap on its back, a rope circling above the cowboy’s head. He threw the rope, snagged the gun, and snatched it from the biker. Tristan fired, and the soldier crumpled.
Slap caught the gun in mid-air from the noose that held it as he drew the horse to a stop near Tristan, grinning. “Want a ride?”
Tristan eyed the huge beast as it pawed the ground and tossed its head. “You’re not kidding, are you?”
“Just tell me where you want to go.”
Tristan glanced around the spaceport. The Eridani had the upper hand. “Let’s go to Giselle.”