When bounty hunter Lou Prophet and his partner Louisa Bonaventure capture a gang of stage-robbers, they haul their quarry to a remote town to get their due. But Bitter Creek proves even more dangerous than hunting outlaws when Sam Scanlon and his murderous riders hang all the lawmen. Now, Lou Pro...
Once a lawman, always a lawman. The only variation is whose laws you follow. U.S. Marshal Flagg is not going to let Gideon Hawk, once deputy marshal, now Rogue Lawman, slip through his fingers. He follows Hawk to his hideout in Bedlam, determined to catch him. But he doesn't know that Hawk has t...
A beautiful young lady is out for revenge in the newest action-packed Western from the natural- born storyteller who knows the West
A horse whinnied—a familiar-sounding greeting. Mean and Ugly answered his old friend in kind, the report echoing off the rocks around him and rattling the bounty hunter’s eardrums. Louisa’s disembodied voice knifed out of the silent darkness. “Name yourself!” &...
It was to this room the men and the girl who’d killed her family had taken her, a couple of them carrying her, kicking and screaming, over their shoulders. When they’d gotten to the room, they’d slapped her until her cheeks and lips burned and her ears rang, and then they’d tied her to the bed an...
But then before he realized it, he’d grabbed the reins and bolted off his heels and into the saddle that felt familiar and comfortable beneath him. His old saddle. His horse . . . the skewbald paint he’d bought after he’d sold his father’s business and lit out on the vengeance trail after Anderso...
Haskell figured that either a freight train had finished hauling a load down from the mines, or there’d been a shift change at the mines themselves. Maybe both. So he wouldn’t run over anybody, Haskell walked the black through the dense crowd of loud, rambunctious, bearded...
Bear shouted, lurching toward the girl, whose hat dangled down her back as she dropped to her knees beside the table. There was another loud thud as wood slivers spewed from the door casing. The rifle’s crack followed a quarter-second later. Out in the yard, the horses whi...
asked the earring-wearing redhead, Bronco Brewster. “You mean, besides a general hatred for the whole male race?” Prophet said with a snort. Louisa glanced back over a shoulder at him, wearing her customary look of strained but cool tolerance. She and Bronco were riding ahead of the empty gold wa...
A quarter hour after the attack, he was following the gunman’s trail through the hogbacks north of Bitter Creek, the roofs of which the sun slowly gilded behind him. A mile north of town, the drygulcher had followed a small creek, then turned up a steep hill through scattered aspens and pines. Fo...
When the men were gone, Prophet waited for an oar wagon and two beleaguered-looking horseback drifters to pass, then hefted his saddlebags on his shoulder, adjusted the Winchester in his right hand, and walked across the street, the ten-gauge Coach gun dangling from the lanyard down his back. “Wh...
‘Shit,’ Prophet said. ‘I was hopin’ you’d ridden on. I don’t have time for craziness, girl.’ ‘I don’t go anywhere without my revolver, Mr. Prophet.’ She extended her hand for the gun. ‘So you can shoot my prisoner here?’ Prophet said, grabbing his saddle horn and pulling himself atop his hammerhe...
As the wagon climbed higher, the rain turned to snow. There was little wind and the temperature didn’t drop much below thirty, so there was no danger of exposure or blocked roads. The day ended early, however, the soft gray light dimming as though a giant lamp was turned down.Cuno parked beside t...
Prophet said. “Ain’t it, though?” “Where might you be headed?” “Johnson City,” the hard case said, cutting his dull gray eyes at Lola, who stared at him with unadulterated hate. “I see you finally got your prisoner settled down.” He grinned until his cheeks dimpled. Prophet could tell he was unac...
“The girl’s right, Boomer. That hoss don’t start at forest sprites.” “Ah, shit, I was just gettin’ comfortable,” Drago said as Greta helped haul the old outlaw to his feet. Spurr walked over to Cochise and draped the spare saddlebags over his own pa...
Sugar said as she rode along beside Louisa, in the middle of the pack of Rurales, outlaws, and bounty hunters making its way up the canyon. “I should have killed you instead of drugged you. Cut your throat while you slept.” “Why didn’t you?” Sugar stared straight ahead but now, as before, when Lo...
Occasionally he looked back over the wagon bed and the trailing skewbald paint to see Serenity pulling the second Conestoga along behind him, about twenty yards back of Renegade, starlight glistening off the oiled tack and metal fittings and off the graybeard’s bristled cheeks. It was good to hav...
They were docile, rested, and watered enough that they balked little at being led back across the canyon to the wagon. When Cuno had both hitched to the traces, and he’d checked the snaps, buckles, hames, tongue, and double-tree—he wanted no problems in case they needed to hightail it—he checked ...