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294 pages, Paperback
First published December 1, 2009
It was on a dying, red sun Friday when he passed into the town; only the black gummed growl of a scrawny, long-nippled cur that slid from underneath the shadows of a boardwalk, welcomed him…Curtains drew. Fleshy lips moved behind lily hands. Whispers carried words he’s heard a hundred times before in towns better than this. Questions both bemused (What do you make of that?) and pregnant with fear-born threat (Who does he think he is?). Speculations (Some kinda Mennonite? A Mormon? A Mexican-Mormon?) Then, probably from some drummer who had been out of the valley once or twice-maybe as far as Tombstone or Bisbee he heard another; Jew.