Deadwood Undertaker Books

Deadwood (late 1876) ... A rowdy and reckless undertaker’s delight. What better place for a killer to blend in?Enter undertaker Clementine Johanssen, tall and deadly with a hot temper and short fuse, hired to clean up Deadwood’s dead … and the “other” problem. She’s hell-bent on poking, sticking, or stabbing anyone that steps out of line.But when a couple Santa Fe sidewinders ride into town searching for their missing uncle, they land neck deep in lethal gunplay, nasty cutthroats, and endless stinkin’ snow. Their search leads them to throw in with Clementine to hunt for a common enemy.What they find chills them all to the bone and sends them on an adventure they’ll never forget.From the bestselling, multiple award-winning, humorous Deadwood Mystery series comes a new herd of tales set in the same Deadwood stomping grounds, only back in the days when the Old West town was young.

“There’s gold in them there hills!” … and something deadly, too.Danger the likes Boone McCreery has never seen is brewing in the Black Hills. Fresh in from Santa Fe, he’s returned to Deadwood to seek justice for his uncle—and maybe to see about a girl. Little did he know his search for justice would have him stumbling into a hornets’ nest beyond his worst nightmare. One thing is for certain, the trouble he and his compadres chance upon deep in the trees is a LONG way from ordinary.Kick up your spurs and enjoy another rip-roaring, wild ride with Boone, Rabbit, Clementine, and Hank through the pages of the second book in the Deadwood Undertaker series.* * * * *From the bestselling, multiple award-winning, humorous Deadwood Mystery series comes a new herd of tales set in the same Deadwood stomping grounds, only back in the days when the Old West town was young.

Some things you just can't ride around ... Jack “Rabbit” Fields knew a good thing when he saw it, whether it was a sound horse, a sure bet, or a pretty sage hen. When it came to locking horns with any curly wolves he ran into along the trail, he tended to shoot first—a notion that had saved his hide more times than he could count. But that was before he came to Deadwood.Now, someone is stealing freshly dead bodies right out of their graves, and Rabbit and his amigos are on the hunt to figure out who. And more important, why?Unfortunately, finding the answers to those questions will take plenty of Rabbit’s bullets, and maybe his blood, too. When the shooting stops and the smoke clears, he reckons there will be a whole lot more cold corpses in the Black Hills. With any luck, he won’t be one of them.Hold onto your hats and saddle up for another action-filled adventure with the Santa Fe Sidewinders, Clementine, Hank, and the rest of the goldurn Deadwood devils!

*Catawampus (adj.): 1.) Fierce, savage 2.) Askew, awry It’s a cold and snowy Christmas Eve in the rowdy mining town of Deadwood in the Dakota Territory. Rather than enjoy some drinks in front of a warm fire with her friends, contracted Slayer Clementine Johanssen has her horse saddled and weapons packed to head out into the hills and hunt down some deadly scallywags—alone. When her friends catch wind of her intentions, they set out to waylay her long enough to change her way of thinking … in spite of her mule-headedness. Reminiscent of Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, this catawampus tale will add a heartening dose of fun and camaraderie to your holiday! Note: This is book 3.5 of the Deadwood Undertaker Series *(Merriam-Webster Dictionary)

This here place? Worse than the backside of Hades.” ~ Hank Varney First let me say, this here trip to Slagton weren’t my idea. This place is chock full of bad company done helped itself to a double dose of bad medicine. Slagton needs cleanin’, accordin’ to Miss Clem, and I know the crew to do it. I’m one of ’em. Hank Varney’s the name. Miss Clem and me, along with the two Sidewinders from Santa Fe—we’ll get the sharp-toothed vermin cleared out. Now, some people say I’m lucky, but I don’t know if’n it’ll do me any good, what with the army of trouble me an’ the crew are facin’. If’n we don’t live through it, well, there goes Deadwood. Maybe even the whole of the Black Hills. We’ll all be down the privy hole then, lookin’ up at the Backside of Hades.

I ran freight and wagon trains for years from Missouri to Santa Fe. Courted death from arrows to snake bites, drowning to dysentery, each and every trip. Came through all that only to be dealt a bad hand in Deadwood. Got myself killed. Now the Grim Reaper is swinging for my boys, too. They’re men, actually, and I won’t let them end up dead like me. Same goes for their friends, Clementine the Amazon and Hank Varney. First thing, we need to reckon with that smokey Egyptian devil. His no-good henchmen are searching for something underneath the streets of Deadwood. One thing’s for sure—it’s not gold. Second, the Pinkertons tracked my boys all the way to the Black Hills. I figured they would, but hoped they wouldn’t. My boys will end up in jail yet. Not so long ago, Deadwood seemed like a good place to set up a freight office, but now the Hills are hip deep in bad company. Sooner or later, the devils around here are going to kill us all. Well, not all, unless you can kill a fella twice. “ I’m a ghost. A specter, some would say. A spirit. A shade, the hallucination of a compromised mind. Whatever moniker you prefer, that’s me. Excepting that last one. ” ~Uncle Morton