USA Today bestselling Author: For the MacCallisters, frontier justice runs in the family . . . Falcon MacCallister couldn't duck his father's legacy as a shootist in the Wild West—and he's never tried to. A man who lives between two worlds, Falcon has a reputation of his own—and it's about to plunge him into a different kind of war. On a stagecoach in southern Arizona, Falcon is ambushed. But the only people who die are the shotgun guard and a beautiful young Indian woman returning from school in the East. While Falcon has a choice to walk away, a violent conflict is erupting among the natives. The dead woman was the daughter of a powerful chief with links to Geronimo and Cochise—and a tinderbox has been ignited. Falcon knows that the innocent will die with the guilty if the murderers aren't caught soon. And Falcon MacCallister is the one man who has the courage, the gun, and the bloodline to bring justice to a wounded and violent land . . .

The Rat-Kind are plotting to wipe out the Mouse-Kingdom of Carminel. Only Rufus, a slave, can stop them. First, though, he must find the ancient Treasures of the Lord of Light and enlist the help of the legendary eagles of Carminel.

Only one man can take up the mantle of his father’s legacy in this thundering Western adventure from the USA Today bestselling author. Justice gets its revenge . . . Jamie Ian and Kate MacCallister are together now, buried side by side on a ridge overlooking the huge Colorado valley they had settled and the town they had founded. It’s up to their children now to carry on the MacCallister legacy. Falcon MacCallister is more than willing to take on that task. He’s the spitting image of his father, Jamie. He stands six foot three and is heavy with muscle. Just like his father, Falcon is quick on the shoot. Lightning quick. Now, after the cowardly murder of his father, Falcon is out for revenge against the Noonan gang. On his quest, he’ll become embroiled in the deadly Wyoming Range Wars and face down the notorious Silver Dollar Kid, before coming face to face with Nance Noonan himself. Praise for the Eagles series “[A] rousing, two-fisted saga of the growing American frontier.”—Publishers Weekly “Solid, page-turning entertainment featuring a larger-than-life, old-fashioned hero in MacCallister.”—Booklist

In the conclusion to the "Eagles" series, gunslinger Falcon MacCallister searches the Oklahoma Panhandle for outlaws who had ambushed a small wagon train, and comes across a storm of greed and thievery surrounding construction of a new railway.

The Merlin Falcon kills an egg-snatcher. A single act of defiance that intertwines the Falcon’s fate with many others, as Grandfather Crow seeks revenge. Fending off starvation, the Merlin Falcon and his mate make a desperate bid for new territory. It’s dangerously close to the Stone Forest, and the realm of the egg snatchers. Indiscriminate killers, friends with none, the crows are bent on revenge. The small Merlin has the heart of an Eagle, but he cannot stand against them alone. The Old Man may be an ally – he hates the crows too. He finds solace in nature, but the Merlin is a bird of prey and threatens the birdlife that visits his property. Others are affected by the Merlin’s defiance. The vengeful Grandfather Crow maims a Chickadee and gives the tiny bird a terrible choice. Find and betray the Merlin Falcon or every bird in his grove will die. It will be a murder of crows.

In this rousing tenth Eagles adventure, Falcon MacCallister is among the survivors of a stagecoach ambush. The only ones to die are the shotgun guard and a beautiful young Indian woman, the daughter of a powerful chief with links to Geronimo and Cochise. Original.

I am the Lawman. Below is my creed. Like a religious creed, it is chanted, so I remember, in exacting detail, everything I believed. All my actions. I once had two milliseconds of love. Then they were removed from me. I can most assuredly attest that it's not better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Love fueled my excruciating anger. And then anger's loyal bedfellow. Revenge. Love turned me into a hate-fueled monster. To the perpetrators, it was merely a game. Even if the authorities knew who the were, there were no lawmen to punish them. I was without hope, without retribution. I was strapped in a straitjacket with only memories to taunt my immobilized carcass. So I did what any brave soul would do. I went about the slow business of killing myself. Then as foretold by Edgar Allen Poe: ONCE upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping... It wasn't a Raven. It was a hovering prophet from the past. It had a message for me: "Son. She's buried alive. She's running out of time. Find her. She can do anything." I found her grave deep in the Atlantic Ocean where I would live during her revival. If she could do anything, I knew what I wanted her to do. Remove the straitjacket that bound me. I brought her back to life. We created marionette ghouls that were inspired by unnatural genetic instinct. They avenged my lost love. I labeled myself the Lawman and lived a villainous comic book hero's quest for revenge. We killed every last one of them. Playing the puppet master, we tweaked the strings of my unnatural creatures. Our monsters escaped and mutated into viral, roaming death with a zombie's lack of empathy. Revenge is not a cold meal. Revenge is a warm fillet cut with a butter knife; it's seasoned with blood for just the right amount of saltiness. The blood has to be fresh; it needs to be deoxygenated through the screams of its donor. I am the Lawman. That is my creed. My confession.