Showing results by author "Bill Ciccotti" in All Categories

I am Mathieu Baptiste or at least what is still left of him. I am Chef de Bataillon, what the British call a Major. But as I walk, horseless through knee deep snow, rank is of no consequence. I started out on a fine ebony stallion commanding the 1st Squadron or the 1st "Elite". We rode on the blacks, 5th company on browns and blacks. But none of us ride now. All the horses are long gone in the army of Little Boney, Napoleon Bonaparte. We are on foot from now on. This is the story of a small French Calvary unit walking in retreat back out of Russia.

Old age comes to all of us. We lose a step, or two along the winding trail of life. Reflexes tend to betray us at times. But that doesn't mean you can't go down swinging with your boots still on. Muddy and kind of worn I'll agree. But ours are still high-quality boots indeed. Four old men ride up into the magnificent Montana mountains to relive old times and tell ta few all tales. Adventure under the wild western skis. Cowboys and Indians? Old men yes indeed.

WWII. The spring of 1944. War is hell, but Hitler's wolfpack of psychotic madmen are creating monsters. Searching for the invincible soldier, the Nazis are playing God with humanity. And hell, itself is about to crawl itself out of the bloody gates of perdition. Vampire soldiers, wolfmen commandos and the undead are walking through the dark and foreboding forests of Castle Ungeheuer. Death stalks the night searching for warm blood. Human blood.

Evil is strong and damn cruel. A lawman is often all that stands between the innocent and certain death. But who among us is truly innocent? Fast horses, six-guns, and Sioux warriors. A cowboy’s life is never dull, even in the twenty-first century. Saddle up for a wild western rodeo of adventure. It’s a hard but beautiful land out here in Montana. One worth fighting to hold on to. Easy? No. Scary? Hell yes. But courage is loading up to do the right thing even when you’re frightened to death.

Madcap mobsters intertwined in several underworld confrontations. Bad guys, dangerous dames, and bumbling local vagabonds all attempt to make it through one more day in the Florida Keys.

Scattered and trapped across an exploding chessboard, individual groups of desperate men wandered. Men who were simply attempting to survive in a world of carnage that had gone totally insane. Men like us. Small units that were severely depleted of men and equipment. Manhood stranded in the wasteland who retreated to the defenses of anything they could find to buy themselves another hour. Even an insignificant farmhouse could be the difference between life and death.

East coast mobster on the run for over twenty years. He settled in Big Sky Montana and turned a new leaf. But you can't hide forever. Cowboys and Indians and Mobsters, oh my. East meats west at high noon. You can run from everything, except a bullet.