John Lee Johnson Will Hurt You Bad—Real Bad
Hondo Goodrich's Last Ride
by
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John Lee Johnson entered the saloon and all the Russell House gang became deadly silent. His imposing size and the weapons placed propitiously over his body sent a frisson of fear through them. John, already angry that Ox Leonard one the gang members had abused his foreman, wordlessly went straight to the big dumb perpetrator. He thudded two-straight bone crushing jabs into Ox's face. The unconscious outlaw slid down the customer side of the bar bottoming out with his smashed face canted bizarrely. John then turned his attention to the burly bartender, Bob Sykes. He grabbed Bob under his armpits and pulled him over the zinc countertop. When Bob threw a wild roundhouse punch, John ducked and slammed a piston like shot into the bartender's solar plexus. The punch sounded like a boat paddle hitting a side of raw beef. The pain was so intense that Bob felt that he was going to see Jesus.
John then moved to the Russell house himself. Russell had witnessed with incredulity as John had easily destroyed his two toughest men. Russell had an army Colt situated on the table top to his right and a nine-inch Bowie knife on his left. Russell's anger was evident by his evil slanted eyes and snarled lips exposing his yellow, nicotine stained teeth. He reached for his pistol with alacrity, but before he could grab the weapon, John Lee Johnson snatched the Bowie knife and drove it with conviction into the the back of Russell's gun hand. All eyes of the patrons in the saloon were riveted to the bloody hand with only the knife's cross guard and handle visible.
John watched impassively as Russell's mouth formed a wide oval....wide enough to make a circus contortionist proud. A bellow of pain trumpeted from this cave like aperture.
Sawmill Sid Sanders, long time member of the House gang, taking umbrage at seeing his boss humiliated in this brutal manner, jumped from his window side table. He quickly clawed for his army Colt. John, seemingly without looking, zipped his right Navy .36 out and fired a shot that streaked an orange flame a foot long in the darkened saloon. The impact of the pistol ball sent Sawmill Sid backwards through the glass window. Bordered by surrealistic, icy shards of glass, he largely disappeared until only his cheap boots could be seen in the interior of the saloon. His now hatless head and upper body were now upside down on the crude boardwalk.
John Lee Johnson entered the saloon and all the Russell House gang became deadly silent. His imposing size and the weapons placed propitiously over his body sent a frisson of fear through them. John, already angry that Ox Leonard one the gang members had abused his foreman, wordlessly went straight to the big dumb perpetrator. He thudded two-straight bone crushing jabs into Ox's face. The unconscious outlaw slid down the customer side of the bar bottoming out with his smashed face canted bizarrely. John then turned his attention to the burly bartender, Bob Sykes. He grabbed Bob under his armpits and pulled him over the zinc countertop. When Bob threw a wild roundhouse punch, John ducked and slammed a piston like shot into the bartender's solar plexus. The punch sounded like a boat paddle hitting a side of raw beef. The pain was so intense that Bob felt that he was going to see Jesus.
John then moved to the Russell house himself. Russell had witnessed with incredulity as John had easily destroyed his two toughest men. Russell had an army Colt situated on the table top to his right and a nine-inch Bowie knife on his left. Russell's anger was evident by his evil slanted eyes and snarled lips exposing his yellow, nicotine stained teeth. He reached for his pistol with alacrity, but before he could grab the weapon, John Lee Johnson snatched the Bowie knife and drove it with conviction into the the back of Russell's gun hand. All eyes of the patrons in the saloon were riveted to the bloody hand with only the knife's cross guard and handle visible.
John watched impassively as Russell's mouth formed a wide oval....wide enough to make a circus contortionist proud. A bellow of pain trumpeted from this cave like aperture.
Sawmill Sid Sanders, long time member of the House gang, taking umbrage at seeing his boss humiliated in this brutal manner, jumped from his window side table. He quickly clawed for his army Colt. John, seemingly without looking, zipped his right Navy .36 out and fired a shot that streaked an orange flame a foot long in the darkened saloon. The impact of the pistol ball sent Sawmill Sid backwards through the glass window. Bordered by surrealistic, icy shards of glass, he largely disappeared until only his cheap boots could be seen in the interior of the saloon. His now hatless head and upper body were now upside down on the crude boardwalk.
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About the Book
It is 1865 and former Brigadier General Frank McGrew has not forgotten the loss of his brother at Fort Pillow and the everlasting thorn in his side, ex-Confederate John Lee Johnson. Unfortunately while recklessly acting on his hatred for Johnson and exacting revenge for his brother’s death, McGrew has lost his rank and prestige in the military. Still, he remains determined to bag the big Texan, no matter what it takes or costs him personally.
McGrew ultimately hires a group of disciplined gunmen and its infamous leader, Sabbath Sam, to help him carry out his mission. Sam, known as the fastest gun east of the Mississippi, has his own reasons for hunting Johnson. As Sam pursues Johnson with a rabid hatred, he and his pack of twenty-one hired killers ride toward Texas. While McGrew anxiously awaits the news whether Johnson is finally eliminated or if he has managed to escape death once again, two of the most deadly gunmen in the West finally meet in a showdown deep in the Nations where fate is left to determine the outcome.
In this western thriller, an ex-military general continues his vengeful mission to eliminate his greatest enemy, with help from a notorious gunman and his gang.
About the Author
Conn Hamlett earned a bachelor of arts from Lipscomb University and a master of arts from Peabody/Vanderbilt. His diverse career has included roles as a Latin teacher, professional wrestler in the NWA, competitive bodybuilder, radio personality, and radio sports host. When Conn is not traveling the world, he lives in Joelton, Tennessee.