A beautiful woman lures Slocum into fighting a new civil war.

A black-hearted woman makes Slocum see red… In the shadows of the Grand Tetons, Jackson Hole is no place to spend a winter. But, it’s where Slocum hoofs it after getting a desperate letter from his friend Hovis Benton. A swamper at the Silvertip Saloon, Benton appears to have gotten himself in some hot water. A hangout for trail tramps and glitter gals, the Silvertip is owned by the beautiful—and deadly—Gloria Vespa. She and her bunch of cutthroats are responsible for more missing men than a whiteout—including Benton. What could make such a heavenly looking woman so sinful? It doesn’t take Slocum long to find out. Indian gold. In them thar hills…

Slocum’s invited to attend a funeral—his own. John Slocum was given two hundred dollars and a ticket to Cheyenne, Wyoming with the promise of employment, but not told what kind of services he’d be rendering. On board the train, he’s forced to defend himself against a badman who’s clothed like an undertaker—and lucky that Slocum didn’t put him six feet under. Slocum’s assailant is just one of several gunfighters cryptically known as the Undertakers, who leave their victims flat on their backs with their arms crossed over their chests as if they’re lying in coffins, and plant crude grave marker crosses behind their heads. They’re working for a greedy rancher looking to enlarge his spread over the land belonging to Miss Clarissa Montcalm. But now the Undertakers face the Angel of Death known as Slocum…

A six-shooter doesn’t do much good when you’re six feet under… Slocum likes to bury himself in his work…but now he’s in way over his head. Trapped underground, fighting for his life, all he can do is think about how he got into this mess… It all started because of the most notorious road agent west of the Mississippi, Les Jeter. Slocum had to make sure that this outlaw paid for the lives he’d taken…along with Slocum’s most prized possession—his brother’s watch. And he wasn’t alone on the hunt. Ambrose Killian was obsessed with Jeter and wanted to bring this legend to justice for his own sordid reasons. Hot on his trail, Killian’s enlisted his luscious secretary, a rival criminal, and a gang of greedy lawmen. Slocum knew it would be a challenging job. Almost as challenging as staying alive as the minutes tick by—and the air runs out…

Slocum learns that trouble is all in the family. When Slocum’s good friend Colonel Gill McKee makes a trade for two sisters who were captured by Comanches, he agrees to return Elania and Katrina Proctor to their wealthy merchant father in Santa Fe. But with winter raging, Slocum won’t be able to transport his precious cargo until the spring. At least he has some female company to keep him warm. But when a band of outlaws murders McKee’s men, Slocum puts romance on the back burner in order to find their leader, a ruthless gunslinger named King. After all, there’s nothing Slocum enjoys more than some well-deserved payback.

Slocum goes up against a gang of gold-crazed killers! It was too dark to see, but the sounds of gunfire and agony were unmistakable. When day came, and Mirabelle Comstock saw what the three men had done to her husband for the sake of information about some hidden gold—information they didn’t get—she lost all meekness. She wanted revenge. Slocum has never crossed the line to become a gun for hire. But Mirabelle has a cause behind her anger that he can’t deny. Now, if those men know what’s good for them, they’ll give up the race for gold—and start racing for their lives.

Slocum's caught between two devils of the deep blue sea - buccaneers and mutineers.

When it comes to lawyers, Slocum’s got more than a few objections… John Slocum thought he’d faced every kind of lowlife the west had to offer. But he’s just met the most dangerous outlaws in Tombstone, Arizona, and they don’t carry guns. They’re lawyers. These vultures have descended upon the silver boomtown, flocking together in the business district known as Rotten Row and subverting the letter of the law to swindle prospectors out of their rightful claims. Only Sam Norton, the lone honest lawyer in town, has been willing to stand against them and represent the miners. But Sam is dying, tended to by his daughter Claire, a firebrand more than willing to continue the fight—and more than willing to share her legal briefs with Slocum as he decides to settle with the corrupt shysters outside of court...

Color illustration on front cover of three superimposed vignettes: head and neck portrait of man wearing brown western hat and red bandana holding a pistol in his proper right hand; bare-chested man wearing black pants embracing woman wearing orange and white dress; man in western clothing crouched down next to his horse in a grassy field with another horseman in the distance.

If Slocum doesn’t skidaddle, he’ll be horsemeat! If his Appaloosa hadn’t twisted its ankle on the way to Springfield, Missouri, Slocum might never have looked into buying a new horse there. He might also have missed meeting two of the prettiest cowhands ever to walk on God’s green earth. And now, he might not be running for his life… In Springfield, a man looking to buy a horse has two choices: he can go see the Tolliver brothers’ costly horses, or he can look at Linda Collins’s cheaper ones—and risk getting pumped full of lead by the Tollivers’ hired hands. So when Slocum, a stranger to the town and its rules, shows up on the wrong side of the fence, he’ll have to use his horse sense to protect the very grateful Collins sisters, not to mention stay alive himself…