L. L. Layman
Never did Paxton dream that one afternoon folly, hiding in the woodpile to peek at a bathing woman, would lead to so many deaths. Long was that westward chase. Then with nowhere to run, back to the wall, Paxton McAllister filled his hand. God may have had mercy, but he and Paxton had never met. I was not more that one hundred yards into the river when the shot rang out. I was not hit nor my canoe. It came from the west shore, a campfire I now saw behind some deadfall. There was a shout. More men came running. Five more shots were fired at me, one hit, putting a hole in my craft just above the water line. The bullet lodged in my pack. I put my back to the paddle and made downstream toward the eastern shore. These men were serious. For peeping on one fat woman they were trying to kill me? What would have happened if it were Trinity on the porch? I surely wished it had been. Looking at her would at least give some logic to this chase and maybe a reason for getting killed. 'A cracking read, a real page-turner, in the great Western adventure tradition of Louis L'Amour.' Timothy Harper, American Society of Journalists and Authors 'Paxton is a great hero, and so is Larry Layman for creating him. This is the kind of book, with lots of outdoor action, lots of outdoor adventure, and even some outdoor lust and love stories, that anybody would want to read.' John McCrudden, the Tandus Group
