Showing results by author "J.C. Hulsey" in All Categories

The awful war was finally over and I was going home. I hoped I still had a home. I didn't leave on very good terms. Me heading north and my three brothers going south. Pa said he just couldn't understand how a son of his could turn against his family like that. I tried to explain my convictions, but he didn't want to listen. So I climbed up on my horse and pointed him north. I got about 100 yards out, then I stopped, turned in the saddle and said goodbye to the home I had known for all of my 17years.

Today he was going to collect 500 dollars with this one shot. Vincent McConnell is a bounty hunter with a reputation for always bringing in his man, dead or alive. He learned a long time ago that dead was a lot easier.

I'm hated by ignorant people who don't realize that this is a job just like chopping wood or baking bread. Someone has to do it. I decided if I'm the one to do it, I'm going to be the best.

"Shot him in the belly, so he died real slow. You know what happens when you get shot in the belly? You can't move. You can't breathe. You feel yourself filling up with blood. With pain. And you can't die. Not yet."

There's always tomorrow. Yes, there's always tomorrow. And yesterday. And the nights with the same dreams. Dead men's faces taunting me. Always taunting me. An old gunfighter told me one time, "The only way to stop the dreams is to let your opponent win. It's a guaranteed cure. No more dreams." "Sounds too final for me," I told him. "I'll just keep having the dreams."

"I'm afraid, Murph," I said. "What if she won't accept a one-armed man?" She turned me loose and stepped back. I stood, letting her take a good look at me. The whole me. The half me. Her eyes moved slowly up and down my body, her eyes finally coming to rest on my empty sleeve. My heart seemed to stop beating. My breath caught in my throat.

Francis Gertrude O'Brian (Trudy), a rawboned 18-year-old freckle-faced redhead, is physically and mentally abused by her two sisters, then sexually abused by her neighbor boys. She becomes a little mixed up and confused in her thinking. Perhaps it's because she's so young that she doesn't think things through before she acts. She commits many acts of robbery and murder; however, as she grows older and matures, her thinking becomes clearer, and she seemingly wants to do good.

This is a short story of a man hired to guard, as he puts it, a worthless stinky smelly mud hole.

I was born with a deformity that the doctors had no name for. You see, I was born ugly. "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me..." Whoever said that never had hurtful words hurled at them like brimstone from Heaven.

Gabriel Montague, a newspaper man from Philadelphia, is searching for anomalies in the Appalachian Mountains to write a series of stories for his newspaper, when he comes across something, or someone, like he has never encountered before in all his travels.

If you are looking for the main character of a story not to have any weaknesses, if you are looking for him to be trust worthy and always making the right decisions, then this is not the book for you. If you're looking for the main character to invite home to meet your mama and be your life-long friend, then this is not the book for you....

"You can't shoot me, you're a preacher." "I haven't always been a preacher. You and I have unfinished business from before I became a preacher." The Preacher spoke softly, "I'm not gonna kill you. In fact, I'm gonna forgive you for what you did to my wife and me. However, I do require that you walk over to the sheriff's office and turn yourself in." "I ain't going no place with you." said the man. The Preacher stood, waiting calmly with his hand hovering over his pistol.

Our job, as described by the judge, was to look into the backgrounds of certain individuals and determine whether they had the potential of becoming law breakers. There was very little, if any, violence involved in this endeavor - That is until the last few jobs. It seemed as if we were becoming more like bounty hunters than investigators.

Brian Cavanaugh (alias the Kid Cavanaugh) has just reached the half century mark in his life. People have always said if a professional gunfighter lives past 50, he is either very good or very lucky. At this age, he has decided to hang up his gun and retire, so he travels across the country to return to his childhood home of Rickety Springs, Texas.

As I stood watching the coffin being lowered into the hole, I was reminded of something my pa told me at his father—my grandfather's—funeral. "The clothes and the body will rot away, but the name lives forever. I didn't understand at the time, but today I understand, and I promise my husband's name will live on and mean something even though he's gone. I will work hard and make the hog farm one of the best in this county and beyond."

The story of Jerod Marsh, who became a famous Mountain Man, and his Indian family, Bearclaw and Moonglow. Excitement from cover to cover with a wagon train, an Indian attack, Jarod almost dying from arrows in his back, and his recovery with a nurse named Thatcher. The tedious journey to take Moonglow back to her people on the other side of Echo Mountain.