First Drive - Book Tour and Giveaway

Grab your hat, step into your boots, and strap on those spurs.
Your cow pony is saddled up and ready to ride the trail from San Antonio to Abilene.
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First Drive
A Seph Vermillion Western Adventure Book 1
by David Fitz-Gerald
Genre: Historical Western Adventure Fiction

Grab your hat, step into your boots, and strap on those spurs. Your cow pony is saddled up and ready to ride the trail from San Antonio to Abilene.

Seph Vermillion grew up dirt poor. As long as he can remember, he's been pushing a plow and arguing with a mule. A couple of times a year, a trio of bandits ravage the family farm and make off with their savings.

Pa never returned home after the war. Seph's siblings have been gone so long, he doesn't remember what they look like. When Ma dies after a long illness, Seph trades the family farm for a horse named Sheriff. The kid next door tells Seph about the Deatherage Longhorn Cattle Ranch. The allure of adventure beckons. They partner up and hit the trail. Lacking skills, they are the last cowboys hired and agree to work for half pay.

The outfit's top hand, Stoke Moreland, pranks, taunts, and threatens Seph. Why does the seasoned cowboy seem intent on driving him off? Seph doesn't know much about self-defense, but he is tired of being a victim and feeling violated. How long can he turn the other cheek?

The trail is fraught with hazards from perilous river crossings to the mother of all stampedes. When they realize they're being tracked, followed, and hunted, a growing sense of doom overwhelms the fledgling outfit of cowboys who are still wet behind the ears. The outlaws that plagued Seph's past have followed them and they are determined to take the herd. Their plan is simple: pit the cowboys against each other, pick them off one by one, and stampede the beeves.

Since they left San Antonio, the drovers have looked forward to whooping it up at the end of the trail. That was before somebody began killing cowboys. Now, Abilene seems like an impossible dream. Will anybody make it to the end of the trail?

Grab your slicker, fetch your bedroll, and swing up into the saddle. Sign on with the Dagger D, Angry R brand--First Drive is calling your name.
 

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​April 23, 1868
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The sharp crack of gunfire sliced through the air, jolting Seph Vermillion from a daydream. He sat up tall in the saddle. The skin on his forearms prickled. A familiar punch detonated in his gut. That blast in his belly signaled danger.
His ear twitched, and he blinked rapidly.
The first shot was followed by several more, each one closer than the first.
Seph glanced down at the buttstock of his rifle. His father called the Hawken Uncle Yves, but Seph never knew his grandfather's brother—or why his father had named it after his long-departed uncle. He considered drawing the gun from its scabbard.
His heart thundered in his chest. He glanced at his partner, Slaw. The look on his friend's face mirrored his own sense of dread.
They had hoped to avoid trouble on their journey to San Antonio.
The sound of pounding hooves on the trail behind them grew to a rumbling thunder. With an urgent nod, Slaw signaled a detour off the trail.
Seph dug his heels into the side of his claybank dun, a fast horse named Sheriff, and dropped the lead rope on his pack mule. Immediately, Seph was on the heels of his partner's horse, a dapple-gray called Win, short for Winter.
Dirt chunked from Win's hooves, pelting Seph. Seph hunched over Sheriff's neck and squinted, hoping to keep the gravel from stinging his eyes.
As they raced across rugged terrain, Seph spared a glance over his shoulder. Dread coiled in his belly at the sight of three familiar figures in hot pursuit. The approaching riders hooted, hollered, and howled.
These weren't random bandits. Seph knew these skunks all too well. He couldn't count the times they had raided the Vermillion family farm. They'd gallop into the barnyard, help themselves to whatever they wanted and ride away, heckling and cajoling. Seph was always left to deal with the aftermath.
But this time was different. Seph was no longer a helpless victim. Never again, Seph told himself. He gritted his teeth, urging Sheriff onward. Determination flowed through his limbs, and Sheriff lengthened his strides.
He was thrilled to own a horse that loved to run.

**FREEBIE ALERT!**

**Get the freebie prequel Farewell to Poesta Creek here!**
https://dl.bookfunnel.com/8i8386a45t
​

** And look out on the horizon for book 2 riding in soon! **

Dead Heat
Coming May 2025
PreOrder Here!
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​David Fitz-Gerald writes westerns and historical fiction. He is the author of twelve books, including the brand-new series, Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail set in 1850. Dave is a multiple Laramie Award, first place, best in category winner; a Blue Ribbon Chanticleerian; a member of Western Writers of America; and a member of the Historical Novel Society.

Alpine landscapes and flashy horses always catch Dave’s eye and turn his head. He is also an Adirondack 46-er, which means that he has hiked to the summit of the range’s highest peaks. As a mountaineer, he’s happiest at an elevation of over four thousand feet above sea level.

Dave is a lifelong fan of western fiction, landscapes, movies, and music. It should be no surprise that Dave delights in placing memorable characters on treacherous trails, mountain tops, and on the backs of wild horses.
 
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Character Profile – Meet Stoke: The Unstoppable Force

In First Drive, Griffin “Stoke” Moreland thrives on chaos, boundless energy, and his need to be the center of attention. Known as “The Ignitor,” Stoke embodies fiery charisma, towering confidence, and a knack for dominating every situation.
Born into a large family in Newcomerstown, Ohio, where standing out wasn’t easy, Stoke learned that the loudest voice gets the most attention. On the trail, his combustible spirit makes him impossible to ignore.
But not everyone is captivated by Stoke’s theatrics—least of all Seph Vermillion. When Seph and his partner, Slaw, first meet Stoke in Chapter One, the man wastes no time introducing himself:
“Parents named me Griffin.” He made a face at Seph, stressing the “ffs” in the middle of his name. “But everybody calls me Stoke.” He said his nickname like he was introducing a legend.
Slaw asked, “What do they call you that for?”
The question seemed to delight Stoke, and his friends slouching around the fire laughed. They knew what was coming. Stoke boasted, “I am The Ignitor. If you need a fire, I can whip one out of nothing in a matter of seconds. Are you familiar with locomotives?”
“Never seen one,” Slaw replied, “but I heard of ‘em.”
“They’re powered by steam. It takes a lot of power to move them along.”
Stoke’s cadence slowed. “Do you boys know about the ladies?”
Slaw took Stoke’s bait. “The ladies?”
Stoke boasted, “When it comes to doing a bit of business with the ladies, my ignitor powers the locomotive.” He made a chugging sound with his cheeks and gyrated his body like he was doing the sort of business he had suggested. Finally, his hips stilled.
Pounding his chest with a fist, he added, “I got an inferno raging in me, so they call me Stoke.” He glanced at Seph. “If you play with fire, you’ll get burned.”
Seph didn’t know much about people, but it seemed like Stoke went out of his way to be intimidating. He had never met anyone so boastful.
Stoke’s nickname is the foundation of the mystique he’s built around himself. He often makes statements like:
“I told you before, I am The Ignitor. I could make fire underwater.”
Stoke dislikes Seph from the start, taunting and intimidating him, and even tries to get him fired. It’s Seph’s height and quiet confidence that set Stoke off. Their testy introduction soon blooms into a rivalry that challenges them both. In one particularly cutting exchange:
“You’re nothing but a coward,” Stoke hissed. “You’ll never be one of us.”
Seph’s anger flared. “Today we can’t stand each other, but one day we’ll be friends.”
Seph refuses to cower and Stoke pushes harder to establish control. This explosive dynamic fuels their every encounter.
This rivalry is rooted in the traits Stoke honed as a child. Growing up in a crowded house, he quickly learned how to fight for scraps of attention. As a teenager serving in the Virginia theater of the Civil War, Stoke witnessed the kind of hardship that demanded fortitude.
His formative experiences shaped Stoke into a man who can’t sit still—except when tinkering with scraps of leather, a rare hobby he keeps mostly to himself. His relentless need for recognition, paired with unyielding energy and a constant habit of pacing, defines his behavior on the trail.
For all his bluster and bravado, Stoke occasionally reveals fractures in his iron persona. Sometimes, quiet moments reveal an introspective side. In one rare instance, he even offers Seph an uncharacteristic compliment:
“I gotta say, you impressed me. Didn’t know you had it in you to be a hero.”
In this moment, Seph glimpses the man behind the bravado.
Stoke is not the villain of First Drive, but he is a worthy adversary. His unshakable belief in his own mythos tests Seph’s determination to find the good in everyone.
Standing up to Stoke is more than just a rite of passage for Seph; it’s a journey of self-discovery and courage.
Stoke is both a challenge and a contradiction. He craves attention but also seems most at peace when he’s alone. He demands respect but alienates those around him with his antics. And while he cultivates the image of a man who’s bulletproof, his vulnerabilities, forged by a childhood of competition and the hardships of war, are just beneath the surface.
Will Stoke’s rivalry with Seph deepen, or will Seph’s quiet resolve win him over? Stoke’s unrelenting energy and larger-than-life persona light up the trail, but the shadows beneath his bravado reveal a fortuitous glimmer—perhaps this duo can become partners rather than rivals.
Stoke is a force of nature. His gumption, fire in the belly, and manly vigor make him both an adversary and a pivotal part of Seph’s journey. Whether testing Seph’s mettle, commanding attention, or pushing the crew to their limits, Stoke ensures his legend burns bright—long after the dust settles.
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