The Jim Buchanan Novels

A series of mystery/suspense/thriller novels from present day, western Montana

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The Killing Zone

the killing zone by felix giordanoThe Killing Zone

A Jim Buchanan Novel (The Jim Buchanan Series)

On Sandstone Cliffs

On sandstone cliffs so high
what secrets do you hold?
Brave warriors who chose to die
on sandstone cliffs so high.
A sacrifice to kiss the Creator’s sky
with blind ponies now long cold.
On sandstone cliffs so high,
what secrets do you hold?

© 2016, Red Road Publishers



Montana Harvest

1Montana Harvest

A Jim Buchanan Novel (The Jim Buchanan Series)

Murder for profit meets Native American justice.

In Cedar County, Montana, Sheriff Jim Buchanan, is the law. When the FBI contacts him concerning a missing persons investigation, it threatens not only his own life but also the life of the person dearest to his heart.

In his attempt to crack the case, Jim comes to grips with a long-held family secret and experiences the mystical nature of his Native American heritage.

Alan Caruba, Editor and Founding Member of the National Book Critics Circle – “Montana Harvest is one of the stories whose characters immediately intrigue the reader.”

Montana Harvest is available at:

amazon copy barnesandnoble copy
Audible versions available at: amazonaudible itunespreview

© 2014, Red Road Publishers


Mystery at Little Bitterroot

mysteryatlittlebitterrootMystery at Little Bitterroot

A Jim Buchanan Novel (The Jim Buchanan Series)

They say dead men tell no tales but do their spirits?

Cedar County Sheriff Jim Buchanan investigates a series of killings while treading lightly around a Native American legend that seems all too real.

As the body count grows, spirit memories seize the hearts and minds of the community muddling Sheriff Buchanan’s efforts to bring the killer to justice.

Mystery at Little Bitterroot is available at:

amazon copy barnesandnoble copy

© 2016, Red Road Publishers


Coming This Fall: The Killing Zone, a Jim Buchanan Novel – The day revenge, mayhem, & murder overwhelms Montana

thekillingzonewebSneak peak:
Chapter 1

ather Peter Bongiorno, drove his black Ford sedan south along Montana State Highway 56 toward Taylor. It was Friday, June 13, 1997 one day after a Roman Catholic Diocese of Helena meeting with Cardinal Sanchez. An overnight stop in Libby to give moral support to an old friend coping with substance abuse gave the priest great joy. Admiring the peaks of the Cabinet Mountains and engrossed in reciting the rosary, he nearly failed to notice the naked and bloodied teenager staggering alongside the two-lane, coniferous-lined road.
Father Bongiorno’s head swiveled as he drove past the young woman. Slamming on the brakes he came to a stop on the narrow shoulder. Grabbing his olive army blanket from the backseat, he jumped out. As he advanced, she fell and disappeared into the high grass that populated the space between the road and the trees.
He waded into the grass and stumbled upon her. “Lynn, is that you… my dear child, what happened?” The priest spotted the imprints on her bloody ankles and wrists screaming of metal restraints. Her knees and feet were covered in cuts and abrasions and her filthy body was drenched in blood, sweat, and grease. He covered the trembling young girl with the blanket and led her to his car.
After Father Bongiorno buckled her in the passenger seat, she said, “RAPED!” Then she sputtered through swollen and bloodied lips, “BIKERS!”
Father Bongiorno recognized the sound of revving engines from the direction of Keeler Mountain. Not the screams of dirt bikes but the throaty howl of big bore Harleys. The girl screamed, unbuckled the seatbelt and dropped to the floor.
The priest slammed shut the passenger door. “I’ll bring you to the hospital.”
He ran to the driver’s side, jumped in the car, pulled onto the road and drove off. Father Bongiorno watched his speedometer inch its way past 80 mph as he speed-dialed the familiar number on his cellphone.
“Martha, is Sheriff Buchanan there? Then call him and explain that I found Lynn Corbett naked and injured on Route 56. I’m bringing her to Taylor University Medical Center. Better call her parents. She says she was raped… a patrol car to accompany us… thank you.”
Father Bongiorno squinted in the rearview mirror and spotted five motorcycles rushing toward them. A teenage dirt track driver before he left for the seminary, Father Bongiorno stomped on the gas pedal. Reflective roadside posts and mile markers flashed by in a blur. Glancing down at his passenger he noticed her left eye sealed shut and swollen a deep shade of purple. Visible bruises and welts populated her face, neck, and shoulders.
“Do you know who did this to you?”
He watched Lynn look up at him. She moved her lips as if to speak but only a few trickles of blood dribbled from one side of her mouth and tears flowed from her eyes.
Realizing that she was in shock aggravated by the bikers’ pursuit, Father Bongiorno drove his car at breakneck speeds and threw on his emergency flashers. He passed three cars, one of which blasted their horn at him. The relentless bikers raced past the clutter. One approaching car in the other lane swerved to his left as the priest veered around the vehicle. He skirted the shoulder of the road kicking up dust and debris and flushing an Eastern Kingbird from a roadside tree. The bikers continued their pursuit.
A shot rang out, then another as they passed the eastern shore of Bull Lake. A bullet tore through the back window and ricocheted out the side window just above Lynn, still huddled on the floor of the car. A second bullet shattered the rear window and exited through the windshield. A third bullet grazed Father Borngiorno in the right shoulder and embedded itself in the dashboard. The priest held onto the steering wheel with his left hand as his right arm, weakened by the gunshot wound, slid to the bench seat and settled on his rosary beads. He feebly grasped them and spied Lynn clutching the blanket close to her face and shrieking aloud as they zoomed toward the city of Taylor.
He then heard the wail of a siren and sighted the flashing blue and red lights of an approaching Cedar County Sheriff’s Office patrol car. He again stared in the rearview mirror and saw the motorcycles break off the chase and pull a 180 in what seemed an instant. Father Bongiorno slowed his sedan and allowed the patrol car to make a U-turn and then slip in alongside him. Undersheriff Rocky Salentino waved for him to follow and the two-car detail rushed to the hospital nearly 25 miles away.


On the Road to Bozeman

On the Road to Bozeman – video shot in September 2011

Music, This Small Town by Scott Jacobs



Native American flutist R. Carlos Nakai and Paul Horn recorded a CD in Canyon de Chelly (see attached link).

Spider Rock in Canyon de Chelly. The canyon is in the Navajo Nation and contains several sacred sites, some known to the general public and some not. A particularly interesting rocky spire is reputed to be the place where Spider Woman brought the skill of weaving to the Navajo people. Tourists are not allowed in Canyon de Chelly without a Navajo guide, both because of the sacred sites and because people sill live there who don’t want tourists peering in their windows. 


Mystery at Little Bitterroot

Mystery at Little Bitterroot has achieved Amazon's #1 ranking for Native American Literature's Hot New Book Releases.

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