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.
