UPDATE: The winners are…Michelle, Arlene Miklovic, and Courtney Kinder!
The Montana Bounty Hunters series located in Bear Lodge is complete. I am four books into the spinoff series, Montana Bounty Hunters: Dead Horse, MT,and I’m working on #5. I loved writing the original series, and I can’t wait to immerse myself in writing many more of these heavy-duty, gritty guys in the near future. Have you seen the cover for Cowboy, which will release in October, if not sooner? Yeah. Some of the guys you love from the original series will continue to pop up here and there in Dead Horse—after all, they all work for Fetch Winter. Someday, he’ll get his happy-ever-after, too!
MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS: Authentic Men… Real Adventures…
Former Marine “Wolf” Patterson is working with a team of MBH bounty hunters in the densely forested Kootenai Forest to bring in one Reese Tobin, a man wanted for arson, who escaped from jail just before his trial. When Wolf catches up to him, Tobin draws a gun, telling Wolf he can’t return to lock-up or he’s a dead man. Just as one of his teammates is about to lunge toward Tobin to take him down, a shot rings out, and Reese is dead.
Former Army Military Police Officer, now Deputy, Meg Henry, was the officer who arrested Tobin, and nothing about that night sat right since. After hearing he was killed, she heads to Kootenai, hoping to talk to the men who were with him last, hoping Tobin told them something that might help her figure out the mystery surrounding him. Because handsome bounty hunter, Wolf, was the last to talk to Tobin, Meg offers Wolf a ride back to the sheriff’s department. They barely begin their conversation when they find themselves running for their lives. Meg doesn’t know who to trust, but she instinctively trusts the tall, intensely attractive Wolf. Together, they work to unravel the mystery while staying one step ahead of someone who wants them both dead.
Are you all caught up reading the Montana Bounty Hunters?
For a chance to win a download of one of the stories you may have missed
(I’ll pick three winners!), tell me this:
Where else, other than Montana, would you like a Bounty Hunter book set?
Here are all the Bear Lodge Montana Bounty Hunters!
MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS: Bear Lodge, MT
Authentic Men… Real Adventures…
Reaper’s Ride: https://amzn.to/2KKkisI
Big Sky Wedding: https://amzn.to/33GprwK
Excerpt from Wolf
Once she arrived home, Meg checked her windows and the locks on every door. Not that she was paranoid, but given what she’d been through, she wasn’t going to be careless. Plus, her house was isolated and five minutes from Amity. While most days, she liked the fact she had no neighbors close by, times like this kept her on edge. When she finished her rounds, she showered and changed, keeping her service pistol always within reach.
She’d hoped standing under the hot spray would relax her, but when she’d dressed again, this time in jeans and a soft tee, she felt restless, so she made herself a cup of coffee and carried her laptop into the living room. With it resting on her lap, she thought maybe she should write her mom a short email, just to tell her she was okay and thinking about her. Instead, she paused, her fingers hovering over the keys.
She opened her browser and typed in a search, inputting the address of the warehouse, and then hit enter.
The first item in the list that appeared was a link to an article in the local newspaper about the fire and Reese Tobin’s arrest. She read the article, but there was nothing there she didn’t already know.
She hit the back key and began searching the other items in the list. She came to one that listed the owner of the warehouse, Bear Claw Industries. She clicked on the blue, underlined company name, and that link took her to an ad in the yellow pages. Bear Claw Industries was a shipping company and a sole proprietor company owned by “Red” Barton, a state congressman.
Not sure where this was leading, if anywhere at all, she typed in “Red Barton, Amity MT”. The list included articles, and one by one she immersed herself in the congressman’s history.
Red Barton was a member of the Methodist church, had a pretty wife, had run for mayor and lost, but won when he ran unopposed for the state congress. He was a supporter of states’ rights and the second amendment. And he’d gotten some flack in the editorial section of the newspaper over the fact he’d spoken at a gathering for a local militia, where he’d given a speech about gun rights and the limited sovereignty of the government. Another link led her to a description of the rest of the agenda for that meeting and a list of those who’d attended. When she read the names, a sick feeling lodged in the pit of her stomach. Reese Tobin and Bennie Jacobs had both been there. They had both been members of the Free Montana Militia.
There was the connection. She quickly scanned the other names, and thankfully, found no deputies among them, but she didn’t know the rest of the men. She sent the agenda with the list of names to her printer, and then remembered her coffee, which had cooled.
She set aside her laptop and bent toward the coffee table to pick up her cup when the silence was disturbed by glass shattering and the dull thud of something hitting the wall behind her.
Meg threw herself to the floor, reached onto the coffee table for her service Glock, and crawled toward the kitchen. There she slid upward to the junction box and turned off the electricity.
Darkness fell around her, and she suddenly realized she’d left her cellphone on her dresser in her bedroom. She was on her own.
In the distance, she heard the deep, rattling hum of a motorcycle engine, but she was more concerned about any sounds she could detect nearer, like the rattling of a doorknob or the shattering of more glass should an intruder try to get inside.
Well, she wasn’t sitting there waiting for trouble. No matter how hard it was to keep her breaths even.
With her weapon held in front of her, she moved out of the kitchen and back toward the living room. She had to be sure that what she’d heard had been a gunshot. Crouching low, she moved toward the window across from the sofa and nudged aside the sheer panel. In the moonlight, she could see the tear in the fabric and noted the round, splintered circle in the glass.
She had to make the call. Alert the sheriff. Then warn Wolf that someone wasn’t leaving them alone. As she moved toward the hallway, a whoosh sounded, like the slide of a window moving upward. But she’d locked them all, hadn’t she? Swallowing hard, she moved toward the sound. It had come from her bedroom.
With her heart pounding in her chest, she felt that rush she always had in combat, when everything around her slowed down and her mind focused on the mission, the goal—the intruder in her house. She set her back to the hallway wall and moved slowly sideways, listening for footsteps, the creak of a floorboard. But there was only silence.
Beside the door, she drew a slow, quiet breath, drew her courage around her like a cloak, and moved inside, again, keeping her back to the wall. She crouched beside the dresser and glanced toward the window. The curtain billowed inward on a gust of wind.
The shadows inside the room were hard to distinguish, but then she saw a movement. One large dark shape moving from beside the window. She held still, not breathing, until the large frame passed her. Then she rose, coming up behind the man who stood in the doorframe, his head cocked.
She pressed the muzzle of her weapon against his ribs.
At his whisper, she drew a sharper breath. “Wolf?” She held her weapon away and leaned against his back as she struggled not to shiver. “What are you doing here?” she whispered harshly.
“Let’s not talk about it now. Two men, I think the same ones who disabled your car, are right outside your house.”