Monday I brought you the Classic Author Feature for this month, Shadowgod's A Shot of Bourbon. Did you catch it? You can download a copy of the banner if you want to add it to your signature. If you missed the feature, never fear, we have more to pique your interest today with an excerpt from the story that will whet your appetite for more! 

I picked this excerpt because I wanted to show just where the inspiration for the image from the banner came from, plus it's a great scene to showcase the interactions and back and forths between Bourbon and one of the other characters...

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"I have something to tell you after the race," I said, my voice muffled by the helmet, before I headed off and into the gate.


Now, I told you before, there's nothing like this feeling in the whole world. The sound of fifteen bikes, all revving and adding to the scent of the wet clay-rich soil, the heat from the power plant you're straddling slowly lapping at your inner thighs. For a split second, each of you are just as good as anyone else. We all start as equals, only to hoist one to the top.


I soon went into auto, the gate fell, and we took off as one. Then the line split as the more skilled pulled away from the pack. Thankfully, I was one of them, one of the top four places, for the first five laps around the medium course, so I am told. On the sixth time around, I don't know what happened. I couldn't tell you.


My bike fell from the air and landed hard... I was out; and with a painful scream of its engine, The Beast was silenced forever. When I came to, I was pissed off, mostly over the twisted mass of metal that had been my bike. All right... so it wasn't that bad... but the frame was shot and, for now, so was the bike.


I pushed past the medics as they tried to check me out. I knew I was fine, save for the cut above my right eye, and a few bruises. My body felt like it had been shellacked with a layer of the red-colored dirt, but I didn't care. I had one thing on my mind.


So there I was, sore, a severe case of helmet head, blood trickling down the right side of my face as I slowly climbed the earthen berm. I hefted my sore body over the hay bales marking the perimeter of the course and stood on the other side. Watching Rusty run up with a worried look on his face, my heart ached, and as he got closer and I saw tears tracing tracks down his soft cheeks, it broke all together. He ran right into me, almost causing me to fly backward over the bales, I would have too, if he hadn't wrapped his arms tightly around my chest.


My mind fought through the pain, just as I was comforted by his awesome hug. I looked down at his head smashed against my soiled riding jersey, and dropping the helmet I was holding, I pried his face from my chest and forced him to look me in the eyes. He watched me intently, not saying anything, just studying me as closely as I studied him.

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