WHEN A MAN IS LOCKED IN A BOX
HE HAS NO CHOICE BUT TO BLAST HIS WAY OUT!
Meet Dag Enberg, a brand-new western hero from the pen of Peter Brandvold...
In this violent, sexy tale of bloody redemption, Dag Enberg is a shotgun rider for Arizona’s Yuma Stage Line. A big, rawboned Norwegian, he’s one of the best in the business. But when a group of outlaws led by Cougar Ketchum kidnap Enberg’s pregnant wife and threaten to kill her if Enberg doesn’t turn over a valuable strongbox, Enberg is forced to go against his instincts.
He turns over the strongbox without a fight.
The owner of the strongbox, Logan Cates, believes that Enberg has thrown in with Ketchum. Logan Cates owns the stage line and half the county. He’s a powerful man as well as the stepfather of Enberg’s wife. He also knows that Enberg has many weaknesses, not the least of which is whiskey and women.
When Cates turns his sites on Enberg, a bloody war breaks out...as well as a desperate chase into Mexico for the stolen gold and Enberg’s woman.
A BAD WAY TO DIE
Enberg dropped the table leg. He strode across the room, pushed through the batwings, and stopped on the saloon’s front porch to watch Leclerk kneeling in the street before a woman dressed to the nines in a stylish salmon dress, white shirtwaist, and feathered picture hat. She was taking mincing steps backward, tripping over the hem of her gown as she tried to flee the big man who was clawing at her as though trying to maul her.
She was Constance Norman, wife of one of the county’s wealthiest ranchers.
The panicked, strangling Leclerk was only beseeching the horrified woman for help. Which she, of course, couldn’t offer.
The best sawbones on the frontier couldn’t have fixed Leclerk’s busted windpipe.
The woman screamed again as she tripped over her gown and fell to her butt in the street. Writhing in horror of his fast-approaching demise, Leclerk flopped down on top of her, kicking his legs and arms and raking his fingers across his throat. His grisly strangling sounds rose above the woman’s shrieks.
Leclerk turned over and over as he fought death, his horrifically swelling face growing bright red and then blue until, after nearly a minute of violent convulsing, the woman screaming and trying to kick him away, he finally stopped fighting.
The dark angels of death swept over him.
Leclerk rolled onto his back, legs spread wide. He blinked one last time, gave a final twitch, and lay glaring toward Heaven.