wr Benton

Press Release 2!

Lachesis Publishing Announces the Release of "War Paint " By W. R. Benton
Issued By: W. R. Benton Jul 04, 2008 14:27:53

Lachesis Publishing Releases W. R. Benton's newest book, "War Paint"

By W. R. Benton
Dated: Jul 04, 2008

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Young George Alwood the Third heads west to the Rocky Mountains, following an argument with his wealthy father. He has no idea what fate has in store for him. The year is 1825.

Young George Alwood the Third heads west to the Rocky Mountains, following an argument with his wealthy father. He has no idea what fate has in store for him. Teaming up with two experienced mountain men, Jeb and Hawk, he soon finds himself with an unwanted Indian wife, Falling Leaf. When the group spends the winter, high in the mountains, he learns to love her, and then discovers she is pregnant with their child.

Returning to Fort Atkinson in the summer, George sells a small bag of gold to a sutler, which brings out deep greed in more than one man who witnesses the exchange. Soon after, with a brutality rarely seen out west, his wife and unborn child are killed, and this sets him on a bloody trail for revenge. The killers have not murdered just any woman, and he will not stop until he achieves payback for his lost family.
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Teaser:

"He's up on the far bank in the trees," he said, his voice filled with obvious excitement. "I hit 'em, but not sure how badly. I was aiming for his head, but he left the log and swam to the bank. I'm not sure if he has a gun with 'em or not."

"What now? I mean, do we both cross the river, or just one of us?" Hawk closed his eyes in thought for a few minutes and then replied,

"We both do. I'll cross upstream and you cross downstream, then we move toward each other."

"What if he goes back to the water?" I asked, because that's exactly what I'd do.

"Then you'll have to stay near the river's edge as you move upstream and keep an eye out for 'em. He'll have no idea we're crossing the river, but he'll move downstream, if he can at all."

I nodded and said, "Let's get this over with. It's taken too long." After I spoke, Hawk patted my shoulder and then set out at a slow trot upstream. I turned and began to run downstream, looking for places to cross.

Less than a quarter mile later, I found a log that had fallen onto some rocks and it gave me an almost completely dry crossing. I jumped up on the log, crossed it, and then sprang onto the rocks. Just like that, I was across. Moving upstream cautiously, I felt tense, not knowing if Red lived or not. If he'd been injured, he might have passed out, but if he was alert, he might just shoot my ass.

Every slight sound caused me to freeze and more than once, I turned quickly with my rifle at the ready, only to see a small animal scurry away. When I neared where Hawk had been watching, I saw fresh blood on the sandy bank. As I kneeled to read the sign, I heard a whisper of noise and turning toward the sound, I saw Hawk approaching. He was moving with care.

"Dark blood on the sand and it's fresh," I said as Hawk neared.

"Good, I put a bullet in 'em then, but he ain't hit that bad if the blood's dark."

"He's moved back into the woods, so how do we do this without getting our asses killed?" I asked as I looked up at him.

"I'll cut a wide circle and come in behind him. You move in, oh, maybe twenty feet and wait. When you hear me yell or if I fire my rifle, you move in fast. That a-way we'll box his ass in tight." I checked my guns.

"Okay, sounds good, but ya watch yerself, because he'll fight."

Hawk snickered and replied, "I'll be fine. I'll make 'em come and this is one coup I want!"

"How long do ya think it will take ya to move in behind him?"

"Not sure and it all depends on how thick these woods are, but I'd guess about twenty minutes or so. Now, let me move."

Hawk walked into the shadows of the forest. I made my way twenty feet into the woods and kneeled as I listened. I heard nothing - not a sound - and that was unusual. I suspected Red was near. I should have been able to hear small animals or birds, but it remained quiet.

As I waited, I pulled my twist of chewing tobacco from my possibles bag, cut off a piece, and placed it in my teeth. I enjoyed the taste of the sweet thick juice as it formed in my mouth. I'd just leaned over to spit when I heard a rifle fired. I let the juices run down my chin and ran forward.

As I moved, I heard a second shot and became worried Hawk hadn't had time to reload, but it might have been a pistol shot. The echo of the sound in the trees had me confused. I came upon Red with his back to me frantically reloading his pistol, using the ramrod to seat the bullet.

I stopped and yelled, "Drop the gun, Red!"

Instead of dropping his gun, Red turned toward me and fired. I heard the bullet fly past my head, felt a hard slap on my right thigh, and while I staggered from the impact, I remained standing. Looking down, I saw the ramrod had only grazed me. Out of instinct, I raised my rifle and squeezed the trigger, seeing dust fly high on Red's left shoulder.

He gave a frightful scream and fell to the ground. I immediately reloaded and stood looking at my wife's killer.

Hawk appeared from the brush and said, "Cover me. It's time for Red to pay the band for the dance."

I stood at the ready as Hawk moved forward slowly. He had a vicious smile on his face - pure evil. Hawk pulled his skinning knife, kneeled beside the thrashing Red, and lifted his head by the hair.

Just as his knife moved toward the man's exposed throat I saw a knife in Red's rising right hand. "He's got a knife!" I yelled, but the warning came too late and I saw Hawk take the blade deep in his side.

Rolling from Red, with the knife still in his side, Hawk gave me a clear shot. I merely pointed my Hawken at Red and jerked the trigger, watching him take the big slug low and in the lights. He gave a hideous scream and fell to the ground.

About the Author

W.R. Benton is a retired United States military senior non-commissioned officer (E-8). He is a graduate of a number of U.S. Air Force Survival Schools, including Arctic, Water (Sea and Ocean), Mountain, and Jungle survival schools. He spent twelve years teaching parachuting techniques and survival skills to Air Force aircrew members as a Life Support Instructor.

Mr. Benton currently works as a freelance Wilderness Survival and Outdoor writer for a number of North American Magazines - ‘Buck Masters', ‘Modern Survival', ‘Big Game Hunt', and many others. He has eight books in print, and he is a member of the Western Writers of America.

His hobbies include camping, fishing, hiking, cartooning, and reading. He has an Associates Degree in Search and Rescue, Survival Operations, a Bachelors Degree in Occupational Safety and Health, and a Masters Degree in Psychology near completion.

Sergeant Benton retired from the military in 1997 with over twenty-six years of active duty.

Reviews:

"As a (Senior) Master Sergeant in the US military, W. R. Benton became a man of action and lived the "code of the west," which is very well reflected in his westerns and especially in his newest, WAR PAINT, an action-packed story of love, struggle, betrayal, and revenge set in the wildness of the Old West. It is a must read for anybody who loves westerns. You will not be able to put the book down."

-Don Bendell, Author of 23 books, including the western Colt series, with over 1,500,000 books in print worldwide.

"WAR PAINT is for the western reader who wants to read something different, and for the western enthusiast who likes to know there is accuracy and authenticity in them thar pages. It's an exceptionally good read, excellent plot, beautifully drawn characters, and well sustained from start to finish."

-Mel Hague, Author of Death on a Rope, and others, and Recording Artist of 17 albums

"W.R. Benton understands Indians, mountain men, and the fur trade, and puts it all down in a whoppin' good read called ‘War Paint'."

-Steven M. Ulmen, Author of Toby Ryker.

Genre: Western Author: W.R. Benton Cover Layout: Melanie D, Calvert Page count: 308 ISBN: 1-897370-47-4

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