|Bite the Bullet
In the Wild West, a desperate outlaw clings to a bullet cursed by a gypsy… because the bullet has his name on it.
A Bullet With Your Name On It
“I got me a bullet with your name on it.”
Alvin Chaddock stared at the bullet. His name was etched into the side. The five letters of his first name were tiny, crudely carved into the small cylinder, but it was his name sure enough.
Harvey Posson rolled the brass cylinder in his fingers.
The smug look on Harvey’s face made Alvin want to plant a tightened fist seed into the fleshy soil of his cheek. Alvin also wanted to grab one of the long curls of Harvey’s mustache and rip the waxed length of hair right off his self-satisfied face. “Where in fuck nation did you get that?” Alvin asked.