Welcome back, Sixers! I hope your holidays were wonderful so far and I'm glad you're taking the time to come back and visit the weird, wild, and wicked world while you digest the goodies from your feast. Thank you to all of you who leave comments. They let me know I've tickled your fancy and found people out in the vastness of internetdom who are interested in my writing. Thank you all so much. There are other authors who participate in Six Sentence Sunday and some of my personal favorites are Cara Michaels, JoAnn Ross, and Lynne Murray.
In this snippet, Captain Marcus "Hartwell", the erstwhile Blackheart, is feeling sorry for himself when a "boy" comes looking for him and takes him to the hostel to sober him up.
“Water?!” Marcus scoffed, trying to look ferocious. “I doona need water, laddie, jest more whiskey!”
“Oh, you’ve had enough of that for one night . . . and maybe for a lifetime,” the boy mumbled in disgust. “Just rest and we’ll see what to do with you on the morrow.”
Marcus was going to complain about moronic boys and their stupid notions of a man’s capacity for drink when his stomach suddenly rebelled and he damn near missed the bucket the boy had gotten for him.Holy Aegir, what in the Frozen Hells is wrong with me?
I guess he's more think than he drunks he is. ;) Thanks for stopping by and happy reading! :)