The Breed (The Fast Gun Series Book 9)

The Breed

James Munroe has the blood of warriors in his veins. Born to a Scottish father and a Sioux mother, and raised between two worlds, he grows into a man shaped by courage, survival, and the hard lessons of the American frontier.

After fighting in the Civil War and serving as an army scout against the Comanche and Apache, James returns to his family’s ranch in New Mexico hoping to learn the cattle trade. But peace does not last. A ruthless land baron wants the Munroe land, and James soon finds himself in a brutal fight to protect his family’s legacy.

When the battle leaves him restless for a new life, James heads north to Wyoming’s Wind River Valley with three loyal friends at his side. There, fresh danger waits, and the man they call The Breed must prove that he is not only willing to fight for what is his, but fast enough to survive.

A fast-paced Western adventure filled with frontier justice, hard men, and deadly gunfights, The Breed is the ninth book in Terence Newnes’ Fast Gun series.

Start reading The Breed today.

Excerpt from the book

It was hot and the sweat rolled down Lieutenant Rycroft’s face. The bandana he had used to wipe his face was already sopping wet, and he cursed the heat. The Arizona desert was no place to be in the summer months, he reflected, but the Apaches had been raiding for a long time now and the army had decided to crack down. Containing the Apache menace would encourage settlers to move in, and so army patrols were hunting the raiding bands of warriors. Lieutenant Rycroft glanced back at his platoon of fifteen soldiers and was proud to see that they were still alert and ready for the unexpected. Their numbers should have been greater, but on the frontier, a troop’s strength was invariably less than it should be. But these men behind him were experienced and tough, and any one of them was worth three new recruits.

They plodded along, and Sergeant Williams, riding just behind him on his left, remarked, “I wonder where Jamie is.” Lieutenant Rycroft saw a slight movement ahead to his right and replied, “I think he’s coming in now.” Sergeant Williams said, “I sure hope he’s got some news. This particular group has an able leader who knows about battle tactics. If they figure his medicine is strong, then more young bucks will join him. They’ve burned down two outlying farms, leaving no one alive. A month back, they ambushed Lieutenant Smith, killing five soldiers and the lieutenant himself.” Rycroft had turned his horse slightly in the direction of the approaching rider, and he said, “I think that was the fault of the scout. I heard that he estimated the group to be only about a dozen warriors.” The veteran sergeant kept his views to himself, although he disagreed with that assessment. Lieutenant Rycroft was new to this region, but the sergeant figured that he was a man who would learn. He thought to himself somberly, ‘These young officers either learned fast or they died early.’

Lieutenant Rycroft raised his hand and the soldiers stopped. The scout pulled up next to him and said, “When you go over that rise, Lieutenant, you’re gonna see five or six Apache warriors. They’ll do their best to make you chase them, but I would advise against it.” Lieutenant Rycroft looked at the tall, broad-shouldered scout and suddenly wondered why the man wasn’t sweating as he was. He stared at the square face, firm jaw, and blue eyes, and thought inconsequentially that the man was actually good-looking. He mopped his face with a kerchief that was soon as wet as the bandana and asked, “If there are only five or six of them, why would you advise me not to chase them?”