If you’re a reader of any sort, one of the true joys of the internet is the proliferation of book giveaways that can keep your…
Western stories for your wandering heart
Hugh Wesley - Writer Posts
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Frank motioned toward the table in front of him, loaded with steak and potatoes, bread, vegetables, even fresh fruit. Caleb…
The orange flicker of the firelight turned Bobby’s round face into a twin of the harvest moon peeking over his left shoulder. Ralph almost felt…
Crackling hickory smoke mingled with hot cast iron in the little country kitchen. When the water boiled, Paula would start the day’s first batch of…
Soft autumn nights were the cruelest of all, and their whispering breath stung after all the years. Mary hugged herself tight and swayed to a…
It was the old man’s eyes that made Frederick nervous. They were tired, fixed, cloudy … blind. Yet they riveted to Frederick from the other…
Flakes of iron swirled towards Ruth’s scaly lips as she sipped the last of the ice melt. The water had always been hard in that…
The only thing I know about the road ahead is that I’ll walk it with you. And if it all gets too hard, I’ll carry…
The dog’s tongue lapped hot and wet against Ned’s cheeks. A salty mixture of slobbers and tears tumbled over the boy’s lips as he slid…
You pressed these creases into my face, with loving fingers and easy smiles that coax curled lips and crinkled eyes to giggle through the world…