The Whisper of His Irons

At twelve years old, Flint McCrae buried his mother with his own hands after raiders tore through their Missouri homestead. From that day, he swore he’d never show mercy again. Seven years later, he has his father’s guns and a list of names. The men who killed her are nearly gone, one bullet at a time.

To most, Flint is already a legend. A shadow on horseback who rides the wind from Kansas to the frontier towns beyond. To Edda May, daughter of a boardinghouse keeper, he’s a quiet young man hollowed by grief.

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