Murder On Cyclone 18: and other tales from the Bakken Oilfield

Many stories are made when men gather together in a far off land. The same holds true for oilfield workers in the wild west drilling fields of Western North Dakota, also known as the Bakken Oilfield. Men come from all over to get in on the action and the money that is earned here. They hear stories of untold riches that are to be made working the rigs, driving trucks or servicing the oil wells. One thing they arent told, is the murder, lies and deception that runs rampant through the Roosevelt Hills, the native lands, and the wildcat fields of this blustery black gold wasteland. It takes a certain type of individual to navigate this treacherous territory, one who can handle the rigors of rig life, and man camps, and one who can take care of himself. A man who will be subjected to atrocities and mutilations during an average work tour, and has to go back to work the next day with a smile on his face. The Bakken Oilfield is a place where you must watch your back, because nobody is looking out for you, shit they may be looking to kill you. In the Bakken Oilfield, you better choose your friends wisely, but choose your enemies even wiser.