I thought I would share the opening paragraph of McKnight.
Murderers are hanged. This realization swept over Isabella Foster in a cold sweat. She rubbed her throat where phantom knots laced her neck like a string of pearls. It was reassuringly smooth. She swallowed and wondered if stealing a horse could also send her to the gallows but then, it was her horse. Of course, she hadn’t committed murder either, but that hadn’t stopped Eli Banks, her dead uncle’s business associate, from trying to wrap a noose around her gullet.