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Monday, October 21, 2013

My "Lance Kelly Series" by Les Williams

I wanted to share info about my latest release, A Western Trail Blazer Dime Novel: 

“A man never knows when fate will step in with a lending hand. Like the time back in 69 when I was in Hays City Kansas. That’s when I crossed paths again with a friend from my past. This was after gun shots were exchanged and a bushwhacker lay dead in the dusty street. Seems like history has a way of repeating itself.” - Lance Kelly 

Brief Excerpt:


"Hey, you in the Marshal's office! Step on out here. I've heard you're lightning with a gun. Let's see just how good you are."
Kelly is jostled out of his reverie. He gets up, adjusts his ash gray sombrero, and goes out to the boardwalk in front of his office.
Standing with widespread legs in the middle of the mucky street is a kid of eighteen, maybe nineteen, years old wearing a blue and white striped shirt with Levis tucked into his hand-tooled brown boots. His right hand is poised over the walnut butt of a .44 holstered on his left hip.
Men gather on the boardwalk in front of the Red Dog and the adjacent false fronted buildings, waiting to see what will happen next.
Bronson strides over from the restaurant, wiping his mouth with a red and white checkered cloth napkin. He steps up next to Kelly. "What's this all about?"
Before Kelly can answer, the kid, whose eyes never leave the lawman, speaks up, "This is none of your concern, Mister."

Trail's End is the second story in my Lance Kelly Series.
Available at Amazon 





This was the first Dime Novel about Lance Kelly:


"The bad thing about being fast with a gun is there's always someone who wants to see if he's faster. My day started like that, and it doesn't look to get any better. This unwanted reputation sure draws attention. Walk with me for a day and see what I mean." – Lance Kelly 



Brief Excerpt:  
"Once I kill you, men will have to respect me. I’ll be known as Jake Saunders, the man who killed Lance Kelly."



A few dry leaves blowing around the hardpan street, the yaps of a dog, and the yowls of the tomcat it’s chasing break the silence. A crow lifts off from a gnarled oak tree, cawing to show its displeasure at being disturbed.



Sweat trickles down the side of the kid’s face, but he can’t wipe it away. Jake needs to keep his eyes on the man facing him in the street. Besides, one move toward his gun could signal the Marshal to draw. He licks his lips, his mouth suddenly feeling dry like a desert underneath a scorching noon sun. Doubt begins to form in his mind as the lawman calmly stands facing him.



Is that pity he sees in the Marshal's eyes? Why you sorry son of a…! 



Buy at: Amazon   Smashwords  Nook  and more online ebook retailers

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