I've received great reviews from many of you on my new book, "Silent Sky." I also received some constructive criticism in the gentle offer of a couple male friends to take me shooting so I could learn something about firearms. As I intend for my heroine, Reina, to become gradually more badass in each subsequent book, I was anxious to accept this offer to learn about, handle, and shoot some guns.
Yesterday, I went to the local shooting range with friends Dave and Todd. Having never shot a pistol before, they provided full instruction in the safety etiquette of handling them: always treat a gun as if it is loaded, always check its status upon picking it up (check clip and chamber), always point away from people (all of which Reina completely disregards in the book, but hey, it's an action series, folks!)
My first attempt was with a Ruger 22, a sleek gun with minimal recoil. My target is pictured to the right in pink. At 25 feet, all ten shots went straight to the head. After removing the cartridge and laying the gun down on the table, I turned to high fives from Todd and Dave, both sporting big grins and comments like, "She's a natural."
After a couple rounds with the 22, I tried my hand at the Kimber 45. This gun has a much greater recoil, but still I managed to land the first shot smack on the x in the middle of the poor target's chest. I told myself that I was going to put the next one right through the first, and sure enough that's where it went. The third went south a bit, but the fourth drilled right through the first two. That sucker was dead, dead, dead. I turned around again to Dave and Todd laughing and shaking their heads.
After more rounds with the 22 and the 45, I tried a Smith and Wesson revolver and a sweet little Derringer Texas Defender with a hell of a kick. I think I could get hooked on this stuff. The guys at the neighboring table suggested that I try out the club's IPSC, which is a timed competition where you work your way through a course identifying and shooting appropriate targets as they pop up. Fun!
After gathering our targets and cleaning up our shells, we lugged the gear out and headed home. Later, over beers, Todd was telling a few friends about the day and warning the crowd at large "not to mess with dead-eye Oakley Annie."
Well, I figure, that's not a bad thing to have the world know about me . . . .
Hope your day is grand!