Bounty Hunter Cowboy Novels & Stories

I use my best alluring voice that usually has women all over me. "Babe?" She questions then hums under her breath. I get the feeling she doesn't care too much for the nickname. "Yeah. Babe. You did just stake your claim on me," I whisper in her ear before licking the shell. These last six years without her have been our own personal hell. Some of us swore off women altogether. Some of us just stick to one-night stands or casual sex. Me? I tried to purge her away in every beautiful woman I could. The Storm cowboy is watching us closely with his dark eyes taking in every detail. I know that look well, my friends and I use it all the time. It's crucial because it could be the difference between

He looked up to see someone he knew that he really needed at the moment. 'Philip Vaquero', arguably the greatest bounty hunter of his time with very few competition. With an almost perfect record, he made his way to the top spot in the bounty hunter world and what made him fearsome was that all his bounties were top tier and of the highest grade. So if Vaquero ever came for you, all you could do was hope that you were wanted alive. Such a fearsome man stood in front of Nega and called him "BOSS" with a casual salute and he reciprocated with a casual "yo"

But for a devilishly long time that made my heart stop momentarily. “He touched me. Everywhere. For the first time in my life I was… touched like that, so passionately, so desperately and it was scary.” I gulped, observing his horror-stricken realization that disturbed my whole being. I wonder how long had locked his eyes on me. Yet, for my own consolation, I asked, “Was it you?” Only the Hunter was capable of reaching its target silently without leaving a trace or getting caught. There couldn’t be anyone else. “You had a 1 billion bounty on your head.” He mumbled, holding the hem of his shirt, pressing his teeth together in desperation.

The mildly warm day and clear skies could change in a helluva hurry on the high plains of Wyoming and she shivered at an odd sense of foreboding. Each steady clip brought the man closer, but she couldn’t see his face. A long sheepskin coat brushed the thighs of faded Wranglers, drawing attention to the championship belt buckle centered between trim hips. Leather gloves covered fingers curled around the strap of a camouflage duffel bag. This man wasn’t one of those young, green city boys looking for “real” ranch work and a wild Western adventure. This guy was one hundred percent cowboy, from the tips of his scuffed Tony Lamas to the brim of his dusty black Resistol. Chassie probably looked li

Rather, like others before me, I'll die in the attempt. "VAL!" I shout, urging her to move faster. Hunter once again cocks his gun, and just like before, nothing happens. I swallow, knowing my odds of survival are drastically decreasing by the second. I can tell that he's using the classic Colt .45mm pistol. Which means there are only eight rounds. Hunter has already used three rounds, leaving five more left. The bullet could be in any one of those rounds. "I don't like to be kept waiting, Mr. Westshire." Hunter exclaims, pulling back on the trigger once more. I feel my heart stop in my chest as I attempt to prepare myself for the inevitable bullet. When it doesn't come once again, I gulp in

At the time they finished the whole bottle of the seemingly expensive wine, they stopped in their tracks. "It's time to part ways, huh?" said one of them to the hunter I knew. No... he could not just leave me here! He had to take me with him! I looked at him with desperate eyes. He was a bounty hunter and he did not care what would happen to his victims at all but I was still hoping that there were morals left in him. He could not just leave me when he knew, of all people, what would happen once he let them take me!

"Whatever, I'm buying the pork buns. Wait here." "K." I pulled out my waterskin to get a drink of water. A battalion of bounty hunters decided to make a grand entrance into the market, dressed in thick leather armour. A large wagon trailed on behind them, lead by a bald woman. My eyes moved to the two bounty hunters riding on her side. They both sat on horses that looked... too familiar. One of them looked a lot like Rakia's horse, Luca. My eyes remained fixated on the two horses, trying to note some clue or something, but suddenly, a banana peel hit me in the face. "Hey!"

But not with locals. There were men with cybernetic eyes polishing rifles in the shade of tea shops. There were women in high-tech stealth suits haggling for water skins. Mercenaries. Assassins. The scum of the supernatural underworld. "The Executor wasn't kidding," Catherine whispered, standing close to Jack. She wore a white linen shmagh wrapped around her head, her blue eyes sharp and alert. "It's a convention. 'Bounty Hunter Con 2024'." "And we are the main attraction," Jack smirked. "Let's go say hello."

He had to get rid of Dustin as soon as possible, or he would end up as an obstacle for the Chandler family. All things could be traded in the trade hall of the black market, including setting up bounties and accepting them. Set up in a spot in the trade hall was a huge screen. On it were all bounties that had been placed. After some taps, the screen soon showed a bounty offering a high reward. Since the reward was so high, it shot up to the top in an instant. [Bounty: The life of Dustin Fox, the Wyatt family outcast. Reward: 20,000,000]