By William W. Johnstone
The type of guy for whom God created the gun, Smoke Jensen stands as a strength of will within the brutal, lawless west. Messing together with his spouse is a foul concept. . .
Into The Valley Of Death
Sally has traveled to the silver-mining city of Goth, Colorado to open a restaurant with a pal. That's the place she crosses paths with 5 financial institution robbers in a rush to strike it wealthy. With the neighborhood sheriff mendacity lifeless in a pool of blood, Sally fights for her existence whereas a frontier medical professional attempts to paintings a miracle. Burning with fury, armed with a gun and a badge, Smoke Jenson is going at the hunt—a posse of 1 opposed to a gang of outlaws extra risky than he can understand. quickly, Smoke is being lured right into a capture at a spot referred to as Black Canyon—a deep, darkish valley of dying, from which just one guy will emerge alive...
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Extra resources for Assault of the Mountain Man (Mountain Man, Book 39)
We were at Pearl six months. " ''The captain lies. " ''Don't you think, Mr. " "What has that to do with it? " ''Have you many friends, Mr. " ''They kept their distance. " Phillip made an impatient gesture with his hand. "Well," Bruner said, leaning back in his chair again, "your facts agree with your captain's, but the approaches are a good deal different. In spite of certain comical aspects of the case, you are in serious trouble. You've admitted your guilt. A court martial board won't consider that lightly.
Now he thought of Timothy Danelaw either timidly or morosely but as frankly as he knew how. Danelaw was an unorthodox man. In Bruner's conversation a few minutes before, Phillip had been surprised to learn that Danelaw was only thirtythree years old (he had guessed him to be almost forty), only ten years Phillip's senior. The name Danelaw, which had at first seemed familiar, Bruner had explained, too. " Phillip had drunk it during his midshipman days. He had preferred Budweiser. Francis had said that the man was married to a woman with the formidable title of "Bitch of Queen Anne Hill," and that the couple lived in some artist's showplace in the city.
Worst of all, he drew further into himself. Whereas once he had only mild contempt for humanity, he was now approaching the point of loathing it. In rare lucid moments, he was so struck with his selfishness that his blood chilled with horror. Ph;Jlip tossed his cigarette into the wastebasket-painted gray, too-and put on his hat and coat. This was a big base. He would go out and find something to interest him for the rest of 41 the afternoon, something to focus his attention on other than himself.