New Release -- GERONIMO MUST DIE by J. R. Lindermuth -- Giveaway!

Half-breed Indian scout Mickey Free has saved Geronimo’s life twice, but how long will that kind of luck hold? Though Mickey and Geronimo have never been friends, murder is serious business on the reservation—and Mickey’s curiosity may be the death of him, too.

When a sharp shooter assassinates several tribal leaders, Mickey believes it’s all part of a plot to incite the Apaches to run from the hated San Carlos Reservation—but proving it before another killing happens requires him to take a dangerous path.

With little to no help from the head scout and the reservation agent, Mickey must find a way to discover who is pulling the trigger—and why. Dangerous factions within the tribes let him know he must trust no one—not even the man he is trying to protect.

When his feelings for a beautiful girl begin to cloud his vision, he starts to question the risks of his mission—is it worth it? And…could the mysterious young woman he’s falling in love with be involved somehow? Before another tribal elder is murdered, Mickey must try to stay alive and learn why GERONIMO MUST DIE…

EXCERPT:

     The first shot raised a cloud of dust between our feet. Flinging myself against Geronimo, I knocked him to the ground and covered his body with my own. The second shot struck and crackled into the framework of the wickiup. After a moment of silence and no more shots, Geronimo barked, “Get off me, fool.”

     I complied. We rose, surrounded by a crowd of muttering warriors who’d been summoned by the shooting. The rifle fire came from a bluff above the camp and a number of men hurried off in that direction. They wouldn’t find the sniper. Having failed in his mission, I knew he was long gone.

      For the second time, I’d saved Geronimo’s life. He seemed no more grateful than he had the first time. Brushing himself off, he inquired if those within the wickiup were unharmed. Assured of the safety of his family, he turned to me. “Why are you here?”

Sieber had sent me. A fool’s mission, though I hadn’t told him so. I learned a long time ago not to argue with Al Sieber.

     Dawn on a frosty morning. Steam rising from the coats of the horses in the corrals. The boys watching the horses huddled with their arms clasped around themselves or blowing on their hands for a little warmth. Dry grass crackled underfoot. We were all hoping for an early spring. Winter was never easy at San Carlos, and this had been no exception

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