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Western Short Stories
John Porter

John Porter

Western short stories Bio. of John Porter

John Porter is the manager of his family's cattle ranch in California, where he also writes.  Eighteen of his screenplays have been produced (twelve of them are listed on the IMDb), and three of his stories have been published.  Soon, Two Gun Publishing will publish YOUR TYPICAL OUTLAW AND OTHER STORIES OF THE OLD WEST, a collection of some of his traditional western stories.

Here's a link to John's IMDb pageJohn Porter - IMDb

Find his book on Amazon HERE>>

Western Short Stories by John Porter

When You Have Everything . . .

John Porter

In the late afternoon, Lukas Williams looked into his corral and saw the bull, the cows, and the calves grazing on the hay he’d forked from the barn nearby. He looked beyond the barn and saw the horse grazing on the stubble in the field, which like the rest of his ranch and the whole of the county sure could use some rain. But his well was still filling the troughs, so things weren’t desperate yet. He looked back at the cattle. He’d sell most of the calves next week and make the payment on his mortgage. Then he’d buy some lumber and shore up the west wall of the barn. Read the full story HERE>>  

A Commotion in the Bunkhouse

John Porter

“I see you guys ain’t done nothing to prettify this rathole,” Clem growled, sitting on his cot and looking at me and the other ranch hands. We was sitting on our cots, too, right there in the middle of the bunkhouse, which I gotta say wasn’t someplace you’d ever wanna bring your ma to. It wasn’t someplace you’d ever wanna bring anybody to, for that matter, except maybe another ranch hand--and only then if he wasn’t too particular about sights and sounds and smells. But I also gotta say that to me and the other hands and now Clem, who’d just come back to the ranch after being away since the weaning, it was home. Read the full story HERE>>


John Porter

In the early morning, an empty bottle flew over the batwing doors of the saloon. It flew past a horse tied to the hitching rail and splintered in the street.

Alone in the saloon, Billy Joe Tucker, a young cowboy, sat at a table and stared at a full bottle of whiskey on it.

“He called me a liar,” Billy Joe shouted.

He pounded on the table.

“No man calls me a liar and lives!”

He grabbed the bottle, opened it, and took a swing.

“No man!”

He thumped the bottle on the table, pulled a pistol from his holster, and wiped it with his hand. Read the full story HERE>>