Return to Chapter One
Hedda Burgemeister, January 1915
Returning again and again and again, the nightmare is unbearable. Seared in her mind, the vivid images haunt her even in daylight.
Leon Johnson continues to stare at her. But when Sheriff Tobin slips down the black hood, it is Hedda who is plunged into claustrophobic darkness. She senses hundreds of eyes trained upon her as he tightens the rope around her neck.
Dr. Herff said the condemned young man gripped a cross in his right hand and thanked everyone for giving him a fair trial. Hedda, though, finds herself teetering on the trap door with no cross in her hand and no thanks to offer.
Continue reading “An Ostrich-Plumed Hat: Chapter Two”
So, deprived of travel, what has this longing-to-be boulevardier been doing since February? Writing and writing and writing. And editing. And getting feedback from a few guinea pig readers. And then editing again. And rewriting. And finishing to the point I’m ready for a larger pool of beta readers for what I’m calling “a truthful novel.” And I hope that means you.
With no stored up travel blogs, the time has arrived for the big reveal. Hate to be a tease, but An Ostrich-Plumed Hat, and, Yes, She Shot Him Dead is heading toward serialization. Right here. On this blog. For you. In the tradition of George Eliot’s Middlemarch, Charles Dickens’ Pickwick Papers and Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Please note I used the word tradition not caliber.
So what can you expect from a truthful novel? There are numerous perks to engaging in an affair with one of the wealthiest men in the city. But, if you end up shooting him, the man’s status imperils your life.
Continue reading “Introduction to a truthful novel and Chapter One”