Ned Ladigo married Running Dear. Minutes later she died.Indians discovered a massacred wagon train. The lone survivor was a naked white youth crying for his dead mother and father.A locket in the boy’s hand, when opened, revealed his name and age—Ned Ladigo, three years old.Ladigo was accepted as a member of the tribe, and years later he and Running Deer were joined in a tribal marriage that brutally ended when she was murdered. “I must be with her. I must…I cannot ...

Private Detective Murders Bundle 1 If the cops do nothing to help you, and private detectives take only your money and come up with no results, then you need Thanet Blake. He gets the job done. Bundle Contains: The Ferguson Murder Book 1 The Private Eye Murders Book 2 Holiday Spirit Book 3

Private Detective Murders Bundle 1If the cops do nothing to help you, and private detectives take only your money and come up with no results, then you need Thanet Blake. He gets the job done.Bundle Contains:The Ferguson Murder Book 1The Private Eye Murders Book 2Holiday Spirit Book 3

It was snowing on the mesa. Well, why shouldn't it? December, almost Christmas, and here I am having been deposited here three days ago on top of this forsaken mesa that my publisher told me sports a cave that's older than time itself. Well, it does. But why am I squatting on my aching haunches trying to hide behind a scanty bush while watching an old buck deer with a whole set of missing left horns? And he knows I'm near. Do I really smell that bad? Believe it or not, the deer actually no...

Ned Ladigo married Running Dear. Minutes later she died. Indians discovered a massacred wagon train. The lone survivor was a naked white youth crying for his dead mother and father. A locket in the boy's hand, when opened, revealed his name and age—Ned Ladigo, three years old. Ladigo was accepted as a member of the tribe, and years later he and Running Deer were joined in a tribal marriage that brutally ended when she was murdered. "I must be with her. I must…I cannot live without her." Hi...

Criminals beware the night. The Apparition is stalking you. No matter where you might hide, you will be found and you will no longer be a threat to anyone. You will be dead.But who is The Apparition? Why is this nighttime hooded figure killing the city's criminals? The police suspect Bryan Sloane, a wealthy young man about town, who in a fist fight killed Nick Putty Stryker. Putty was head gangsters David Stryker's only son. So maybe Bryan Sloane disguised as The Apparition is kill...

Some legends live on. Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, Bat Masterson, Billy the Kid, all our legends that will more than likely never die.But what happens to the ones that do die? The ones who fought for law and order, fighting for justice there own way and yet nobody seems to remember them? Here is a story about them.

Jacob S.C. Smith is a mean man who lives in isolation on his private Asteroid. But there is a secret about him that he himself doesn’t know. The question is, will he ever know, and how will that secret, if and when it’s finally revealed, not only affect him, but all of Earth?

King Mortus grunted and groaned in an effort to think harder. He was close to giving up when an idea shattered his crown and scorched his never combed royal hair. Now he knew exactly what to do. He would become the ruler of that insignificant little world his people were always gabbing about. What was its name? Ah, yes, it was called Earth, a most unusual name for a planet. He would conquer Earth and make miserable slaves of its people. Yes, that is what he would do.

A word of caution about the stories written by someone who is using the name Wayne Greenough. You might wish to live them, which he might have done. It is up to you to decide whether he did or didn’t. If he did, then you can do the same thing for adventure is everywhere in the universe.

Doris Meadows had twelve million dollars, a mansion, a bird aviary, and a very bad heart. All Stacey Ryan had to do was to marry her and wait for her heart to give out. It was all very simple. Or was it?

It was snowing on the mesa. Well, why shouldn’t it? December, almost Christmas, and here I am having been deposited here three days ago on top of this forsaken mesa that my publisher told me sports a cave that’s older than time itself. Well, it does. But why am I squatting on my aching haunches trying to hide behind a scanty bush while watching an old buck deer with a whole set of missing left horns? And he knows I’m near. Do I really smell that bad? Believe it or not, the deer actually no...