SLOCUM NEVER KNEW WHAT HIT HIM
He blew into Tombstone on the dusty end of a desert storm. All he wanted was a warm bed, some good grub, and a stiff whiskey. What he got was a stone cold reception from a town held hostage. It doesn't take Slocum long to learn that nobody in Tombstone spits without first asking Clanton and his pack of swaggering henchmen. Soon the proud Southerner is the prey of an angry posse and Clanton's own private army. Caught between the hot hail of bullets and the promise of a hangman's noose, Slocum falls victim to a cunning trap set by a spirited beauty...
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