BOOTLEG
author: Helen Dunn
Set in 1925
Bullets, Booze, and Love!
Blurb:
The story revolves around independent, tough, young mountain woman, Bailey Skinner, a bootlegger, who is falling for pretty widow, Minnie Givens, who doesn’t approve of “the devil’s brew”.
Bailey, her pit bull named Moonshine, and her partner, Little Jack – who may be small in size but big in courage – are also dealing with a crooked Sheriff, and shoot-outs with rival bootleggers.
Excerpt:
Suddenly a bullet whizzed next to Bailey’s booted foot causing her to jump a bit, startled by the unexpectedness of it.
“You think I won’t shoot you!”
“Oh I can see you would, Miss Minnie.” Bailey said doffing her big, wide-brimmed hat, and giving her a bow. She plucked a long, thin blade of grass and put it between strong, white teeth, chewing on it meditatively, as she took a seat on a nearby large boulder.
Minnie stood watching her warily.
“Tell me something, “Bailey said after a moment, “just how in the world do you go about making a living on this here mountain, Miss Minnie?”
Minnie was momentarily taken aback.
“I have my goats and chickens and pigs.” Minnie told her.
“And you make a living from them critters do ya?”
“Yes. I sell milk and cheese and eggs, and a pig now and then.” Minnie said.
“I see. Well, I ask, because I was born and raised in these mountains. Born in that house right over yonder,” Bailey gestured, “where I still live for that matter, and I’ve yet to see a good way of a woman making a living around here. And yet, here you are, an outsider, and you tell me you’re making a living here on Lone Peak.”
“While I am, as you say, an outsider, I grew up on a farm, and I can assure you, Bailey Skinner, there are honest ways to make a living.”
“You ever tasted home brew, Miss Minnie?” Bailey reached for her pocket and Minnie’s rifle barrel which had been lowering, came back up. Bailey held up her hands. “No weapon, no weapon, just something I want to show you.” She reached again, very slowly into her pocket and produced a flask. “Smoothest tasting stuff you’ll ever have on your tongue.” She held the flask out towards the other woman.
“No thank you!” Minnie said tartly.
“Oh come now, one sip won’t send you to the devil.” Bailey said with a smile, standing and coming towards her, the flask held out. She grinned with pure delight as Minnie, the rifle barrel now towards the ground, began to back up.
Within moments, Bailey had come up to her, and easily snatched the rifle from her hands. She remained standing very close to the woman, enjoying taking in the scent of her.
“What a pretty woman you are.” Bailey murmured, her voice soft.
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Lesbian (and gay) fiction by Helen Dunn 