The Shearing Gun will be released on Friday the 19th of September. Click here for the link to pre-order.
Oh, my gosh. I’m so nervous.
Here is a little taste of the shearing shed scene. Elliot is from the city and has never been in a shearing shed before, so Hank invites him come and watch him work one day. Hank is going for the high score of the shed.
Excerpt from The Shearing Gun
I strode over, checked my handpiece, and decided that a change of comb would be best. The other boys were all still gas-bagging outside, a couple of them fitting in a quick nicotine stick. Elliot followed me to the relative privacy of the empty shearing floor.
“Having fun, Quackle?”
“Absolutely. This is so cool.” He lowered his voice and said throatily to me, “I never realized shearing was so sexy.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Yeah? What part? The sheep shit, the grease, or the noise?”
He smirked at me. “Fuck off. I meant the hot, sweaty guys leaning over with their delectable arses in the air, all working hard. No wonder you’re so strong. It makes me all tingly thinking about how you can throw me on the bed with the same skill and ease.”
Oh, yeah. I did have a habit of doing that. My throat dried and I was unable to swallow.
“And watching your hands do the work so nimbly, it makes me remember how good those hands feel on my skin.”
Oh, double-yeah. I remembered that too.
“But the most arousing part?”
Fuck this was going to be good. I waited, almost holding my breath with anticipation. He stepped in even closer.
“The most arousing part is those funky slippers that you’re wearing. Why the hell don’t you wear them at home? They are sexy as all shit.”
I burst out laughing and shoved Elliot away from me. “Fuck off, Quackle.” I looked at my shearing shoes—they were made from sheepskin, and most shearers wore them. “They’re not slippers, you arsehole.”
He wandered over to the pens and looked in. “What are your chances of beating the high score today?”
I shrugged, not wanting to get my own hopes up. “I’ve gotta do at least a hundred in this next stretch to be even near. I don’t know if I can.”
“You’ll be exhausted tonight when you get home. Let me make you a deal. If you make the total, I’ll look after you.”
Did he mean…?
He moved in close again. I could hear the men’s voices getting nearer but didn’t give a fuck.
“Yes. I’ll look after you however you want. You can just lay there on the bed, and I’ll use my mouth on whatever you like. Or if you’re too tired, you can lay on your stomach, and I’ll do all the work.”
I froze as the implications hit me. If I were on my stomach, that meant he would be on top. On top on top. My butt clenched in excitement. Was I a bit apprehensive about it? Fuck yes.
But did I want to try?
I turned my attention to the pen in front of me. Bring it on!
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