Friday, November 03, 2006
The series "heroine," a not very competant but very lucky bail bondsman from New Jersey, lives in an apartment building with her pet hamster and a bunch of old geezer neighbors. This excerpt is from the finale of the third book. A bad guy has reflexively tried to shoot the hamster after being bitten:
I had one foot in the hall when I was grabbed from behind and yanked back into the apartment by the man wielding the syringe. I kicked and clawed at him, the two of us wrestling for our lives in front of the door. My foot connected with his crotch and there was a heart-stopping moment of immobility where I saw his eyes widen in pain, and I thought he might shoot me, or stick me or smack me senseless. But then he doubled over and tried to souck air, inadvertently backing out the door, into the hall.Just thought some equally chilly Spitbull visitors might enjoy the kick...
The elevator door opended, and Mrs. Bestler jumped out with her walker. Clomp, clomp, clomp with lightning speed she stomped down the hall and rammed the man, knocking him to his knees.
Mrs. Karwatt's door crashed open, and Mrs. Karwatt trained her .45 on the man on the floor. "What's going on? What did I miss?"
Mr. Kleinschmidt came shuffling down the hall carrying an M-16. "I heard a gunshot."
Mrs. Delgado was right behind Mr. Kleinschmidt. Mrs. Delgado had a cleaver and a blue steel Glock with "sidekick " rubber grips.
Mrs. Karwatt looked at Mrs. Delgado's gun. "Loretta," she said, "you got a new gun." "Birthday present," Mrs. Delgado said proudly. "My daughter Jean Ann gave it to me. Forty calibar, just like the cops use. More stopping power."
"I've been thinking of getting a new gun," Mrs. Karwatt said. "What kind of kick do you get with that Glock?