by B R Snow
“Don’t you dare,” I said, flushing red with embarrassment. “I’ll see myself out. Take care of yourself. And this big guy as well.”
I gave Murray one final head scratch then waved goodbye to Summerman and headed for my boat just as the sun was slowly beginning to sink below the horizon. I backed out of the boathouse and headed about five hundred yards upriver Then I turned the boat off and drifted just as Summerman and Murray began their swim toward the main channel. I watched them through the binoculars and saw the smile on his face and the dog’s tongue lolling around his mouth. When Summerman reached his departure point, he started to backstroke and waved to me. I lowered the binoculars, waved back, then waited until they submerged and didn’t return to the surface.
I shook my head, again amazed by what I’d just seen, then remembered. I glanced up at the sky and saw two magnificent eagles soaring about a hundred feet above the water. They swooped down close to the surface, seemed to tip their wings in salute, then flew right over my boat as if checking out the uninvited stranger. They soared until they became a speck in the early evening sky and disappeared.
Dazed, I leaned over the side of the boat and threw up. I wiped my mouth, took a sip of water, and waited until my stomach settled. Then I sat down behind the wheel and started the boat to head for home. I eased the throttle forward, alternating glances out at the main channel and up at the sky. Seconds later I came to an abrupt stop when I hit the shoal that extended off the island near the library. My boat bounced along the top of the shoal and then came to a sudden stop when I heard the unmistakable sound of my lower unit being sheared off. I turned the engine off and glanced over the side to find myself, for the second time this summer, drydocked in the middle of the River.
“Unfrigginbelievable,” I said, shaking my head as I checked for damage.
Satisfied that the boat wasn’t leaking, I reached for my phone, took one final look up at evening sky, and placed the call.
While I waited for it to connect, I took a moment to reflect on the wonder of life.
About all the choices, both good and bad, we make during our brief time on this side.
And the opportunities we miss simply by not paying close enough attention when they present themselves.
Not to mention the problems you can run into when you take your eye off the ball.
Like the big chunk of submerged rock my boat was perched on at the moment.
Well played, indeed.
My call was finally answered on the fifth ring.
“Hey, Rooster. You’re never gonna guess what just happened.”
A New Series from B.R. Snow!
The Whiskey Run Chronicles
The Whiskey Run Chronicles is the latest series from bestselling author B.R. Snow, and is set in the Thousand Islands during Prohibition when smuggling whiskey across the Canadian border into the U.S. was a business a lot of people wanted to get into. One of those people is Milo Razner, a man with big plans and a charming personality that belies a mean streak that sometimes seems to have a mind of its own. And soon after arriving in town, Milo begins to unveil his grand plan to become a respected, legitimate businessman while also operating the largest illegal booze running operation around.
The Whiskey Run Chronicles is written in individual episodes that are approximately 40-50 pages long and designed to be read in a single sitting. Readers can expect to see 3-4 new episodes every month, each one selling for less than a dollar, and the series will play itself out from just before Prohibition becomes the law of the land until it is finally repealed in the early 1930s.
The series has all the elements of B.R. Snow’s writing style readers have come to expect and enjoy. The big cast of supporting characters are well-defined, and the dialogue pops off the page. It’s a series that is one part historical fiction, one part crime story, and one part love story. Above all, it is smart and funny, and readers will find themselves rooting for Milo, a villain with a big heart and even bigger ideas about what might be possible when you do everything in your power to give the people what they want.
Episode 1 – The Dry Season Approaches
Milo Razner arrives in town and immediately begins to launch his plans to control the smuggling of illegal whiskey from Canada into the U.S. just before Prohibition becomes the law of the land. But before he can get started, he needs to make a couple of purchases and deal with a few locals he needs to help him get his grand plan off the ground.
Episode 2 – Friends and Enemies
Milo has a to-do list a mile long, and the increasingly lustful intentions of Ruby Crankovitch are making it difficult for him to concentrate. And when Oscar Hyde, the local chief of police, sets his sights on Milo, he is forced to add yet another item to his list of things to do. But Milo continues to march forward with his plan forward, and things are looking promising until Billy Crankovitch throws Milo a curve he isn’t quite ready for.
Episode 3 – Let the Games Begin
Milo has been heeding his own advice and continuing to take the long-view. But he’s increasingly anxious to get his new enterprise rolling. And when his new boat arrives, and the first batch of finished product is finally ready for delivery, Milo doesn’t waste any time. But between having to deal with Ruby and a couple of problem employees, as well as the Senator’s business partner who seems determined about getting to know Beulah a whole lot better, Milo has a lot of things to worry about. But when he learns that the new Prohibition agent assigned to crack down on the illegal booze business is an ex-cop he has a history with, things take a strange turn as Milo is confronted with his biggest challenge yet.
Episode 4 – Enter the Revenuer
Roland Doyle, the newly appointed local Prohibition agent, has arrived in town and is immediately determined to figure out of some way to make his mark and get promoted back to what he considers civilization. But Roland has a bit drinking problem and a newfound fear of water and boats that are making it difficult for him to achieve his goal. And since Milo has a history with Roland, he decides to lend a hand and do everything in his power to make sure the alcoholic, incompetent agent is both successful and stuck right where he is.
Episode 5 – A Changing Landscape
With Oscar Hyde, the local chief of police, in jail for bootlegging, and Roland Hyde’s drinking out of control, Milo is hoping to be able to relax and enjoy himself a bit. But with a handful of unhappy employees, Ruby’s demands that are rapidly getting out of control, and Billy finding a new love of his life, Milo finds himself dealing with problems on several fronts. And when he is forced to add a new business partner, Milo’s world becomes even more complex as his business continues to grow.
Episode 6 – Entrepreneurial Spirits
Expansion is on Milo’s mind as he makes some major decisions about the business as well as dabbling a bit in real estate. But threatening to put a major crimp in his plans are several of his employees who are either about ready to jump ship, or out to prove to Milo that they can run things better than he can. To make matters even worse is a local schoolteacher, the new love of Billy’s life, who is hiding a secret that has definitely gotten Milo’s attention and is pushing him to the edge of his already severely tested patience.
Episode 7 – All Hands On Deck
In the final episode of Volume 1, several problems Milo has been dealing with come into sharp focus as he attempts to take a bit of luster off of Roland Doyle’s star that is beginning to shine brightly with some decision-makers in D.C. And with the assistance of Tom Collins and Birdie, along with help from an unexpected source, Milo sets forth with a plan do just the right amount of damage to Roland’s reputation while continuing to focus the expansion of his burgeoning business that is struggling to keep pace with the seemingly endless thirst of his customers.
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Here’s a sample of what some of the early readers are saying:
“I’m trying hard to fit The Whiskey Run Chronicles into a specific genre. It’s certainly one part crime story,
one part love story, and it definitely sits inside the boundaries of historical fiction. But there’s something different about this series that I can’t quite put my finger on that makes it hard to pigeonhole. It’s smart, often very funny, but the series has a heart to it that I find incredibly appealing. And I don’t think I’ve ever found myself rooting for a bad guy like I do Milo Razner. Rather than overthink it, my plan is to anxiously wait for each new episode to arrive, then sit down with a glass of bourbon and enjoy my journey back to the 1920s.”
**
“Two of my favorite aspects of Snow’s writing, great characters driven by razor-sharp dialogue, are on full display, and the use of an episodic-structure, while different, works perfectly. This is going to be one hell of a great series!”
The Whiskey Run Chronicles
B.R. Snow
Episode 1
The Dry Season Approaches
Three Shots to the Wind
Milo nodded to the well-dressed man in black he passed on his way to the bar. He wasn’t a huge fan of fedoras as a rule, but they had their time and place. Just like the one on Milo’s head here and now. And Milo had to give the man credit for the way he wore his. Like he was confident about how good he looked; proud of the hat, and not apologizing at all for looking like a bit of a dandy.
Hats were tricky to pull off as far as Milo was concerned. A lot of folks pulled them down way too far, then made it worse by keeping their heads down when they walked past you. Like they were hiding something or weren’t quite as confident as they were trying to appear. When that happened, Milo always got the impression that the hat was wearing the person, not the other way around.
Yeah, hats were tricky.
But if you got the angle of the hat cocked just right, held your head high, and looked people in the eye when you passed them on the street, you’d always get a nod out of Milo.
Even if you did look like a bit of a dandy.
Milo tipped his hat to a group of three women standing in the hotel lobby near the entrance to the bar. Working girls, he decided when he caught their taunting smiles and eyes that lingered just a touch too long.
“Ladies, I hope you’re all doing well this beautiful evening,” Milo said, continuing past them toward the bar.
“We could all be doing a lot better,” one of the women said.
The other two women laughed, and the one who’d spoken to Milo met his eyes when he stopped and turned around. She cocked her head and stared at him, oozing confidence. No hat needed on this pretty young thing, Milo decided.
“I guess everyone could always be doing better, right?” Milo said.
“Indeed. I like your hat,” the woman said, studying his fedora. “I never wear them myself.”
“Because it would be redundant, right?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Nothing. Merely a passing thought on my part. I’m Milo.”
“Daisy,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at her two companions before locking eyes with him again. “That’s Maxine. This is Betsy.”
“It’s very nice to meet you ladies,” Milo said, bowing slightly. “I hope you all have a wonderful evening.”
“If you’re looking for some company, feel free to stop by Fannie’s later,” Daisy said. “I’m sure I could make your stay here much more pleasant. Or, if your tastes run in that direction, all three of us.”
Milo smiled and continued to match her stare.
“That’s very thoughtful of you. Unfortunately, I have some business to attend to at the moment. But I must say, if I were ever honored to be in your company, Miss Daisy, including anyone else would be a pointless gesture. An exercise in futility if you will. For I would hate to ruin my reputation as a gentleman since I would undoubtedly be completely ignoring everyone else who happened to be present at the time.”
Her two colleagues tittered and Daisy flushed bright red, but before she had a chance to recover and respond, Milo tipped his hat again, then turned and entered the bar. He glanced around and decided to sit at the bar. The bartender, a tall man who barely looked old enough to drink, approached and nodded his head at the three women who were still hovering near the entrance.
“Not many men can say no to Daisy,” the bartender said, wiping down the mahogany in front of Milo.
“I didn’t say no,” Milo said. “I just said not now.”
“Well, Daisy is a right now kind of girl and not used to men having to think about it,” he said, laughing. “But judging by the way she’s hanging in the doorway, I think you got her attention. What can I get you?”
“I think I’ll have a beer with a back.”
“Whiskey?”
“Actually, I heard a rumor that if I ask you real nice, you’ll bring me a taste of some local refreshment.”
“Who told you that?” the bartender said, now on alert.
“Just a guy who likes to spread rumors.”
“I hate guys like that.”
“Me too. But sometimes the rumormongers can be useful.”
“Useful as in finding out where to get the best local shine?”
“Yes, among other things,” Milo said, smiling. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”
“The hotel doesn’t know I bring it in. It’s only for special customers,” the bartender said, wiping his hands with a fresh towel. “But when you’re working for tips, you do what you can, right?”
“Yeah, I get that. By the way, I’m Milo Razner.”
“Nice to meet you, Milo. My name’s Tom. Tom Collins.”
“Tom Collins. After the cocktail? That’s a good name for a bartender I would imagine,” Milo said, nodding.
“Actually, my name is Jerry Collins. But a buddy gave me the nickname when I was working in a joint that only sold moonshine. Most women can’t stand the taste of it, so I started messing around with different juices and fruits you could use to make the shine go down easier. I got kind of a reputation for my concoctions.”
“And the nickname stuck?”
“Yeah. And the name’s a real conversation starter,” Tom said.
“And good for tips, right?”
“You’re a quick study, Milo.”
“You have no idea, Tom Collins.”
Tom reached below the bar and poured clear liquid into a shot glass.
“You want to join me?” Milo said. “I’m buying.”
“Thanks, but I’m working,” Tom said, shaking his head. “This stuff will set your brain on fire. Two of those and I wouldn’t be able to make change.”
“What is it?” Milo said, holding up the shot glass and staring at it up against the light.
“Billy calls it his Midnight Miracle,” Tom said. “A hundred and fifty proof but smoother than Daisy’s skin right after she gets out of the bath.”
“Should I ask how you know that?” Milo said, still staring into the shot glass.
“It’s no secret how Daisy makes her living,” Tom said, shrugging. “I learned about her soft skin a long time ago. But that was back in the days when I could still afford her.”
“I see,” Milo said, holding the shot glass to his nose. “I’m getting the scent of something sweet.”
“Billy won’t tell me what that is,” Tom said. “But I think he uses a touch of maple syrup.”
“Interesting,” Milo said. “Well, here goes nothing.”
Milo tossed the shot back and felt the warmth surge through him, then it subsided and left him at a loss for words.
“Good, huh?” Tom said, nodding.
“Remarkable. Who’s Billy?”
“Billy Crankovitch. He’s a local. We go way back. And when it comes to making shine, I think he’s a genius.”
“And he makes moonshine for a living?”
“Nah. It’s only a way for him to make a few extra bucks on the side. I do my best to help him out by selling some of it here.”
“What does he do for a living?” Milo said, gesturing for another shot.
�
��Well, he’s a dairy farmer. But as his wife keeps reminding him, he’s just not a very good one.”
“Ah, farmers. Salt of the earth. I’d like to meet this Mr. Crankovitch,” Milo said, holding up the fresh shot to the light again. “It’s crystal clear.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Tom said. “He’ll start cooking this year’s batch as soon as he gets his corn harvested. But if he’s got any of last year’s batch left, you can buy a quart for three bucks.”
“Twelve dollars a gallon?”
“What?”
“Nothing. Just doing some math in my head.”
Milo and Tom both looked toward the lobby when they heard the swelling noise that was punctuated with shouts and protests.
“Somebody’s not happy,” Milo said, glancing around at the crowd.
“Beulah must be here,” Tom said. “She’s speaking tonight in the ballroom.”
Milo looked at Tom and waited for more.
“Beulah Peppin. She’s the head of the local temperance movement.”
“Ah, yes,” Milo said. “The Women’s Christian Temperance Union. The WCTU seems to be everywhere these days. Which one is Mrs. Peppin?”
“Miss Peppin,” Tom said. “And she’s the one in the white dress.”
Milo studied the young woman who continued to casually give instructions to several people who were surrounding her even as the shouts of protests continued to swell.
“I take it she has her detractors,” Milo said.
“Yeah, and I’m one of them. What is it with some people? They’re always on a mission to ruin everybody else’s fun. The way the winters are around here, if you take away people’s right to drink, they’ll be nothing to do six months out of the year.”
“Yes, I’m afraid the Dries have gotten a lot of traction,” Milo said, downing the second shot and again having the same reaction. “This is truly a remarkable concoction.”