Cowboys, Romance, and Spooky Tales

 

By Kristy McCaffrey

It’s October, which means sweaters, hot drinks, and getting cozy with a good book!

If you’re in the mood for cowboys, romance, and stories with a chill, then I’ve got TWO for you, and both are on sale in eBook for the entire month.

The Crow Brothers Collection is perfect for the Halloween season. Three Old West short novellas set during Hallowtide with medium spice romances.

The Crow and The Coyote
Among the red-rock canyons of the Navajo, bounty hunter Jack Boggs—known as The Crow—aids Hannah Dobbin in a quest to save her pa's soul during Hallowtide.

The Crow and The Bear
When no one will help Jennie Livingstone enter a haunted ravine to find her papa, she must accept the aid of enigmatic bounty hunter Callum Boggs, sometimes called The Crow. 

A Murder of Crows
Eliza McCulloch is determined to reclaim her family book of spells, and her only hope is Kester Boggs, a manhunter named The Crow.

Grab a copy here

Into The Land Of Shadows, is a full-length western romance that blends humor, a high-stakes romance, a protective wolf named Bart, and the exorcism of an evil spirit. Yes, I went there lol. This is a standalone book and includes one of my favorite scenes I’ve written. Keep reading for a sample!

The eBook of Into The Land Of Shadows is at a reduced price of $2.99 for October.

Rancher Ethan Barstow is weary of the years-long estrangement from his brother, Charley. Deciding to track him down is easy; riding in the company of Kate Kinsella, Charley’s supposed fiancée, proves to be anything but.

In this first-kiss scene from Into The Land Of Shadows, Ethan Barstow and Kate Kinsella have been fighting an attraction as they team up to find Ethan’s brother, Charlie, who’s disappeared. Charlie happens to be Kate’s “fake” fiancé, and while she has her reasons for not telling Ethan the truth, it puts Ethan in a dilemma regarding his feelings for her.

As this scene unfolds, Kate has escaped her captors—three bumbling ruffians who are using Kate to lure Charlie and his potential copper mining location into the open. There’s no question in Ethan’s mind that he would rescue her.

Setting is Tuba City, Arizona Territory, 1893.

Kate moved around a trading post but sensing a presence from behind, she jerked her head around and stared. A four-legged creature ran past, disappearing.

With a hand on her chest, she struggled to calm her breathing. It was just a dog.

She peeked around the building and saw Clive walking down the street carrying his gun. Rufus wasn’t in sight. She needed to find a place to hide but most establishments looked closed.

Movement to the left caught her eye. Joe Tohonnie? Maybe she hadn’t dreamt him after all.

The shadow moved across the street and disappeared behind a blacksmith building. Kate ran to the other side of the street, hunching over to hide herself. Once she made it to the blacksmith, she glanced around.

“Joe?” she whispered. “Mister Tohonnie? Is that you?” 

No answer but the wind. Kate began backing up toward the rear of the building, dread gripping her stomach. She swallowed hard, feeling uncertain. Staying close to the structure, her heart wouldn’t stop pounding and her hands were clammy from fear. She swallowed hard again then turned to run but was caught short, letting out an involuntary gasp when the four-legged creature cut her off with a growl.

The animal’s yellow eyes glowed by the light of the moon and he watched her with rapt attention, his body poised for attack.

A wolf.

Another low growl emanated from deep in the animal’s throat and Kate fought the urge to flee. The wolf’s head easily came to her chest; he would have no trouble chasing her down and ripping her to pieces. The gash on her face would pale in comparison to what he would do to her.

A commotion from behind startled her. Someone grabbed her, and in a frenzy Kate fought back, kicking and straining against the iron grip the man exerted around her waist. His hold loosened and Kate fell to the ground. She grabbed a loose board, and screamed as she swung it around, hitting the man’s leg. But he didn’t go down. She scooted backward and scrambled to her feet. The man grabbed her this time, facing her. Thinking it was Clive or Rufus, she continued to struggle.

“Katie! Katie! It’s me. It’s Ethan.” He held her tight against the building. A sob escaped from deep inside her throat, a maelstrom that matched the wind roaring in her ears, and then Ethan’s mouth was on hers.

Hot, insistent, devouring. She molded into him, her lips and tongue hungry for the sudden and consuming contact. She pushed her body against his, clinging to his broad shoulders, desperate to be closer still.

He didn’t abandon me.

His mouth crushed hers and she felt on fire, head to toe.

“Rufus, you find her?” Clive yelled in the distance.

Ethan broke the kiss, and Kate reeled back against the building. “Let’s go,” he said and grabbed her hand, pulling her behind the blacksmith building.

“Wait.” She tugged his hand to stop him. “There’s a wolf.” Her voice shook—either from the men chasing her, the wolf challenging her, or the man who had just devastated her defenses with one kiss. She could take her pick. She’d had a busy day.

“He’s with me,” Ethan said quietly.

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Ghosts and Spirits and The Crow Collection

By Kristy McCaffrey

It’s October, my favorite time of year, and naturally all thoughts turn to thrills and scares and supernatural happenings.

I’ve had a few encounters with apparitions. Several years ago my youngest daughter came to my bedside in the middle of the night, which she often did, so at first I wasn’t concerned. But as I began speaking to her, her appearance faded away in a rippling wave. It kinda freaked me out! Thinking on it later, I decided she had somehow projected an astral image of herself while she dreamt in the room beside ours, however when I asked her about it the next day, she had no recollection of it.

Have you ever seen ghost? I’d love to know! Drop your experience in the comments if you’d like to share.

If you’re looking for western reads that takes place during Hallowtide, I hope you’ll check out The Crow Brothers Collection.

Don’t miss these short stories filled with chills and romance.

It’s Hallowtide in the Old West. Join three bounty hunters fighting dark magic and the women destined to love them.

The Crow and The Coyote

Among the red-rock canyons of the Navajo, bounty hunter Jack Boggs—known as The Crow—aids Hannah Dobbin in a quest to save her pa's soul during Hallowtide.

The Crow and The Bear

When no one will help Jennie Livingstone enter a haunted ravine to find her papa, she must accept the aid of enigmatic bounty hunter Callum Boggs, sometimes called The Crow.

A Murder of Crows

Eliza McCulloch is determined to reclaim her family book of spells and her only hope is Kester Boggs, a manhunter named The Crow.

(These stories were previously published separately. Heat level: steamy)

Available in ebook and paperback at Amazon, Apple Books, Kobo, Nook and Google Play. Find all the links here.

Excerpt from The Crow and the Coyote

Jack Boggs came upon the camp in the blackness of night. A form lay near a smoldering fire. A quick perusal told him it was female. Disappointed, he rested his gun against his thigh from where he crouched. 

He'd followed these tracks all day, but instead of leading him to Ignacio Lopez, they ended here. He had no interest in befriending anyone, but perhaps the woman might have seen Lopez in the area.

The end of a barrel jammed hard between his shoulder blades. “Do not move.”

Shocked by the sound of a gravelly, Indian-inflected voice, he couldn't believe a woman had crept up on him.

He let the Colt slide to the ground before him, then slowly raised his arms.

“Stand, and move away from that gun,” she said.

Hopefully, she wouldn't notice the second one still holstered. He stood. The metal dug into his back again—from the feel of it, likely a double-barreled shotgun—prompting him forward. He stepped over his weapon, and heard the Indian woman retrieve it.

“Hannah, wake up,” the woman said as they approached.

Jack chanced a glance over his shoulder. A short, elderly Navajo woman eyed him with suspicion.

The female on the ground stirred, then sprang to her feet.

With a gasp, her hand came to her chest. “Oh, my word, Sani.”

Forced closer by the persistent Sani, he could see Hannah's disheveled dark hair framed a youthful complexion.

“I told you we were followed,” the old woman said.

Hannah's gaze shifted to him. “Who are you, sir?”

“The name's Jack. I'm in pursuit of bounty.” He ceased inching forward, and the shotgun dug into his back once again.

“What bounty would that be?”

“A bandito by the name of Ignacio Lopez. I mean no harm to you and soft shoes back there.” He nodded over his shoulder.

Hannah considered him, then agreed. “Sani, put the gun down.”

To Jack's surprise, the Indian woman acquiesced. Carefully, he lowered his arms. “Would either of you by chance know anything about Lopez?”

Sani came to stand beside Hannah, gripping the shotgun in one hand and his weapon in the other. Even in the dark, he sensed her brittle glare.

“We might,” Hannah answered. “Would you care to join us at our fire?” She scanned behind her. “At what is left of our fire?” she amended.

He gave a curt nod. “Might I trouble you for the return of my gun?”

Hannah motioned for Sani to give it back, which the old woman did, her features schooled in a skeptical frown.

He wasted no time holstering the weapon, hoping to gain their trust.

They all settled around the barely-glowing embers.

Hannah stoked the fire, re-igniting a small blaze, then spoke in soft undertones to Sani. Jack caught snippets of Spanish mixed with a dialect he assumed to be Navajo. He knew only a smattering, the Navajo language far more complex than any he'd encountered in the past few years of hunting bounties in Texas and the territories.

Hannah turned her gaze upon him, now viewing him as sternly as old Sani. After a moment of contemplation, she murmured again to the Navajo woman.

“It's rude to talk behind someone's back,” he said, removing his hat and running fingers through shoulder-length hair.

“I agree,” Hannah replied. “Are you called Crow?”

Even in the darkness, his jet-black hair was hard to miss. That had to account for why she guessed the moniker frequently attributed to him.

“Yeah,” he replied.

Hannah took a deep breath. “Well, then, Sani and I would ask for your assistance—in exchange, of course—for our help in locating Señor Lopez.”

“You know his whereabouts?”

She nodded, but then amended, “Well, maybe not his location precisely, but we've some idea who he might be with.”

“And who's that?”

She regarded him in silence. For such a young and pretty thing, she was turning out to be a shrewd negotiator. “Do we have a deal?”

“I've no idea what you're asking me to do.”

“You tell him,” Sani said.

“We're after a Navajo called Hastin Yazhe.” Hannah spoke quietly. “He has something I want returned, a silver cross that belonged to my pa. If the man you trail is in these canyons, Yazhe will get him—if not now, then eventually.”

Pinpricks pierced the back of Jack’s neck, bringing his attention fully to the young woman across from him.

“Who is this Yazhe?” he asked.

“A sorcerer. A demon. Depends on your religious leanings, I suppose. I believe him to practice evil.”

“Why would you come after him alone? Are there no men aiding you? Where are your husbands?”

“I've no husband,” Hannah replied, “and Sani has long been without her love. I wouldn't pursue this man if it wasn't of utmost importance.”

“And why is that?”

“He murdered my pa and left his spirit in limbo. When I get that cross back, I'll be able to undo the dark works that have imprisoned my pa's soul. I'll be able to set him free.”

A foreboding of apprehension caught Jack by surprise, sending a shiver down his spine. He knew something of spirits and superstitions, but he also knew that men begat violence for no other reason than that they could.

He also knew that the two women before him, while spouting paranoia, were entirely lucid—and deadly serious.

That concerned him most of all.

Bounty Hunters in the Old West by @JacquieRogers

The law was a bit sparse in the Old West, often not a lawman around for hundreds of miles. If a criminal knew how to live off the land and he owned a fast horse, he was pretty well guaranteed an escape. What's a sheriff to do?

In 1872, the Supreme Court ruled that bounty hunters were a part of the U.S. law enforcement system with a decision in Taylor vs. Taintor:

“When the bail is given, the principal is regarded as delivered to the custody of his sureties. Their domain is a continuance of the original imprisonment. Whenever they choose to do so, they may seize him and deliver him up to his discharge; and if it cannot be done at once, they may imprison him until it can be done. They may exercise their rights in person or by agent. They may pursue him into another state; may arrest him on the Sabbath; and if necessary, may break and enter his house for that purpose. The seizure is not made by virtue of due process. None is needed. It is likened to the arrest by the Sheriff of an escaped prisoner.”

As you can see by this decision, bounty hunters didn't have to adhere to the same rules of due process that lawmen did. (This is still true in some states.)

One of the greatest bounty hunters was Pinkerton Detective, Charlie Siringo. Siringo had a long and distinguished, if not controversial, career. He had steely nerves and his cleverness got him out of more than one jam. But he wrote a book, and the Pinkerton Agency wasn't too keen about that, so he spent several years at the end of his life arguing with them. Could be that the Pinkertons were the only ones to ever best him.

Lots of town marshals and county sheriffs supplemented their meager incomes with bounties. Of course, they had to follow the rules of due process while a bounty hunter had no such restrictions. Then again, if there's no one around for a couple hundred miles, who's to know? This is part of how the West was tamed. Many lawmen straddled the fence between law-enforcing and law-breaking.

In order for a bounty hunter to get his money in British Columbia, he had to bring the criminal in alive. The US had no such compunctions, but the bounty was half if the prisoner died before making it to jail. Bounty hunters didn't receive payment until later, so when they brought in prisoners, they'd either have to wait, or have the money sent to a bank. (They'd probably wait, considering the state of banking at the time.) But the most important thing was that bounty hunters' names were never, ever recorded, because their anonymity was their protection. This little item is what makes research difficult.

(From Wikimedia Commons)

Much to movie and TV viewers' delight, popular lore glorifies the Old West bounty hunter. The role of Josh Randall in Wanted: Dead or Alive in the 1950s made Steve McQueen a star. "Josh Randall (Steve McQueen) was a man of few words. A bounty hunter by trade, he tracked his prey all over the West. Randall carried an 1892 44/40 center fire Winchester carbine that he called "Mare's Laig." It handled like a revolver by had the punch of a rifle. Unlike other bounty hunters, Randall had scruples. He tried to bring the prisoner in alive and often found himself called upon to protect people in need."

Then there's my personal favorite, Paladin, played by Richard Boone on "Have Gun-Will Travel." (Okay, so he was more of a hired gun than a bounty hunter, but they go together well.) 

I haven't written a novel with a bounty hunter character yet, but I have a few planned.  My Christmas story, A Gift for Rhoda, in Wishing for a Cowboy (Prairie Rose Publications) has a retired bounty hunter hero.

Blurb

Rhoda Johnson is stranded in a lonely cabin without a groom. The townsfolk say she's better off without him, but her drunken groom sends a message that he'll claim her as his Christmas bride. Gunman and ex-Confederate soldier Nate Harmon comes to Idaho to make peace with his abolitionist preacher father. When half-frozen Nate reaches the cabin on a snowy Christmas Eve, instead of finding his folks, he's greeted by a pretty blonde with a shotgun who keeps calling him Mr. Snyder. Will she shoot him, or melt his heart?

Excerpt of

A Gift for Rhoda

by Jacquie Rogers

a short story in 

Wishing for a Cowboy

With trepidation, Rhoda stoked up the fire in the stove, then leaned her back against the door and closed her eyes, praying for strength. It was Christmas Eve, a stranger—a hulking grizzly of a man, but a stranger nonetheless—had come bearing gifts, so sharing her shelter in the blizzard was the Christian thing to do. Maybe.

Before she gave herself a chance to think again, she turned around and yanked open the door. The wind caught it, blew it open, and nearly mashed her into the wall.

Rhoda grabbed her shotgun and pushed the door nearly shut, and yelled, “Mr. Snyder, you can come into the house.” She slammed the door again, not sure whether she was frozen from fear or from the cold.

Within a minute, boots clomped on the porch. She had said she would let him in and she’d go through with it—that was that. With false bravado, she swung the door open.

Aiming the shotgun at him, she said, “Leave all your weapons outside, Mr. Snyder.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He held his hands out to his sides, likely wanting to assure her that he had no intention of using his weapons. “But who the blazes is Mr. Snyder?”

♥  ♥  ♥

There are eight wonderful stories in this Christmas anthology, and at the end, there are recipes that go with each story, and mine is Rhoda's Wedding Custard Pie (bonus—it's gluten-free!).

Hearts of Owyhee series

Much Ado About Marshals

Much Ado About Madams

Much Ado About Mavericks

(and available for Christmas...)

Much Ado About Miners