Introductory Note From the Author
I. Hardy as They Come
“The Onion of the West?” he cackles. “What sort of podunk name is that, boy?” I shrug.
“That’s just what they call me,” I reply, sliding my hands into my pockets. I rock back and forth on my heels. The sun glints off my gun holster. “I don’t make the titles ’round these parts. I’m just the sheriff in Heaven’s Bounty.”
“Ooh, I bet you is,” he sneers, slipping his thumbs into his belt loops. As he does so, his holster glints, too. He smirks. “Ain’t you a little young to be playin’ sheriff, son?” I continue to rock back and forth on my heels. His smirk slips away. After a long moment of silence, he spits onto the ground, leaving a black tobacco stain on the dirt of Main Street.
“Folks call me Dirty Dog Akimbo,” he growls, “But we’re so far out in the middle of nowhere, I reckon you ain’t got wind of me yet, ain’t ya.”
“And why do they call you Dirty Dog Akimbo?” I say all polite-like.
“’Cuz I play dirtier than a dog in mud, that’s why,” he spits angrily, “an’ you best keep that in mind when I stuff your chest full of bullets, boy!” I shrug again. He blusters. “Well, then, ain’t ya gonna tell me why they call you ‘The Onion of the West?’” I stop rocking on my heels.Continue reading →