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A Visit from Faye by John McNally  author of Revenge at Powder River and A Gift From Crick Walt sat on the veranda in his rocking chair. He made the chair himself those three years past and he reckoned it just got more comfortable with time. He stretched his legs out and managed to get the heel of his boot on the rail and he crossed his ankles and sat with his legs straightened out in front. He decided to have a smoke; he favoured brown papers and dark Mexican tobacco. He rolled himself a cigarette, dragged a match across a wooden post and lit up. He took a long pull and inhaled deep into his ..read more

“You ain’t going to do nothin’, Saturday.” Staines grinned, nuzzling his face into the ample cleavage dark-haired young saloon girl. “You’re outnumbered twelve to one, you try and take me and these men here will gun you down like the old dog you are. Face it old man: you can’t touch me.” An aging Texas Ranger with a formidable reputation stood facing the Thermopylae’s long counter. Behind him the Cow Boy gang all but filled the ground floor of the saloon, a collection of brooding and rank-smelling rough necks who were all armed to the teeth, foul tempered and desperate. But for all their indiv ..read more

A Short Story by Will Starr ‘It’s time.’ Jake Smithers glared at me from his bunk and remained seated. ‘If I have to, I’ll get Jonas and Billy and we’ll carry you out.’ I paused. ‘Don’t let them see you scared, Jake. Walk out there on your own. It’s going to happen no matter what you do, so you might as well make the best of it.’ ‘I ain’t scared.’ He was lying, of course. Beads of sweat covered his forehead and there was dew on his upper lip. He was scared, sure enough, but who wouldn’t be? * Two months ago, Dave Johnson came bursting in my office, his face ashen and a look of horror on his fa ..read more

Gunfight at Hell’s End By Brent Towns writing as Sam Clancy He came in from the scorching alkali flats late in the afternoon. At first glance, the speck in the distance could have been mistaken for a mirage amid the shimmering heat haze, but as the horse and rider drew nearer it became obvious that it was not. The immediate thoughts of the two old-timers who sat out the front of the Hell’s End saloon was “outlaw”. Why else would a man on a played-out horse enter town from that direction? The only thing out there was miles and miles of nothing. That made him either stupid or outlaw and their ..read more

Mountain Justice By Brent Towns writing as B S Dunn Dan Pearson kicked out the fire and cursed the cold. A small column of brown smoke flecked with glittering orange sparks floated up into the bitter morning air. He pulled the collar of his slicker higher trying to keep out the biting autumn chill. It was only a matter of time before the first snows would fall in this part of Wyoming and he wanted to be out of the high country before that happened. Dan wasn’t a big man, he stood a touch over five and a half feet in his socks. His collar length hair was brown and shaggy, most of it hidden aw ..read more

“We are rough men and used to rough ways” – Bob Younger, famed outlaw of the Wild West It was still dark outside when he woke up. He grunted and ran a hand over his eyes to wipe the sleep from them. Sitting up in bed, he stretched to try and pull his body loose. His wife turned in bed, still sound asleep. Sheriff McShea scratched at the stubble growing from his chin before he pulled himself to his feet. He had to stifle a groan as his knees popped. He stretched again, trying to loosen his back before he began to do an awkward early-morning limp from the bedroom to the kitchen downstairs. He b ..read more

Now, Soapy Joe was a liar. If you’ve ever come across him then you know exactly what I mean. If you ain’t never met him, why, then you take my word for it or ask some of the others if I’m wrong. We all knew it but he told a decent story most times and he was right good company. To hear him talk you’d have thought he won the goddamn Mexican war single-handed and killed more gunmen than all of them Texas Rangers put together. He reckoned he could outshoot, outride and lick most any man in the county. He said all that was years ago, when he was a mite younger and raising hell down south somewhere ..read more

Dogbite Seventeen by Chris Adam Smith aka Harry J Thorn Long before Old John Halloran opened up his Saloon and Pool Hall in Dogbite with the added attraction of the ladies upstairs, Halloran had been a fair country doctor who quit his practice to go hunting gold in California. He was years too late and he did not find any gold worth a damn but he did find that his knowledge as a practitioner of medicine stood him in high demand in a vast country where doctors were still few and far between and those that were in practice were usually horse doctors who tended humans on the side which was ok if ..read more

We are looking for keen readers and bloggers to review published Black Horse Westerns on blogs, Amazon, and Goodreads. If you are interested in receiving a free e-copy of any of our titles in exchange for an honest review then send me an email specifying which book you would like to read and I will arrange for an ebook to be sent your way. Contact NameEmail Message ..read more