This should be up around mid-January. Mean Pete Press has been on hiatus while I've been writing some paperback Lou Prophet books for Pinnacle (see cover to the left) and doing some ghost work.
I've been wanting to get back to the red-headed, left-handed gunslinger with the nasty S branded into his face, Colter Farrow, for a long time. In this one, Colter is finally going home to his foster mother Ruth and his first love, Marianna Claymore. Only the valley in which Colter grew up in the Lunatic Mountains of southern Colorado is in the grip of a vicious, land-grabbing rancher who wants the valley for himself. He's killed Marianna's husband, burned her ranch, and forced her into marriage with him. Colter's headed home, all right, but he won't be greeted with bells and whistles but with the rocketing reports of Winchester rifles...
Monday, July 10, 2017
My two ebook-original Dag Enberg, Shotgun Rider westerns--THE SHOTGUN RIDER and TWO SMOKING BARRELS are now available in print. Not only in print, but in a beautiful new hardcover omnibus edition from Five Star. Check it out at Amazon!
DAYS OF THUNDER AT AMAZON
Thursday, July 6, 2017
When Mean Pete isn't writing, you can usually find him in his beer barn, where he brews beer with friends on spring, summer, and autumn weekends... Here, for the first time, is a glimpse inside the brew barn and...drumroll...Mean Pete's secret brew book! (Budweiser's been trying to get their nasty, venal hands on this for years!)
Above, my brew pals, Kent Quamme, who I met when I taught English--and I use the term taught very loosely--over twenty years ago. He's a fellow North Dakotan so we put up with him when others would not. The bearded hombre on the right is Bill Schmidt, whom I met in the hallowed halls of Central Junior High in Wahpeton, North Dakota, 24 miles west of here, just across the mighty Red River of the North, when we were both in the 5th-freakin' grade. Bill's a fan of all things old--cars, pens, motorcycles, chainsaws, (I was going to add women but that would get us both in trouble so I won't) and cameras, one of which he is holding here. Bill rebuilt an old '57 Chevy when he was maybe 12 years old. He can fix anything. I mean ANYTHING! And if it ain't invented yet, he'll invent it! Just so he can break it and fix it!
Here's our brew dog--Buddy--who is very protective of the brew barn...and loves mud.
Mean Pete and Bad Buddy
The brew book and Mean Pete's favorite recipe!
syphoning the mash juice, aka beer, into our boiling kettles.
Tuesday, June 6, 2017
SADDLE UP FOR A HARD RIDE WITH THE HALF-BREED DRIFTER, YAKIMA HENRY, IN A BRAND-NEW FOUR-PART SERIES...BLOODY ARIZONA!
Part 3: CHIRICAHUA BLUES
The town marshal of Apache Springs, Arizona Territory—Yakima Henry--has his hands full. Not only has the iron horse arrived in a storm of frenzied hoopla, bringing more crime along with it to the boomtown Apache Springs, but Emma Kosgrove’s secret canyon has been discovered.
One of the two young Southern brothers who stumbled into the canyon is dead, but it’s unclear how he died or who killed him. The other brother was so traumatized by whatever happened to the other brother that he can’t speak, just walks around in a daze, muttering the single word, “Snake,” over and over again...
Yakima’s senior deputy, the Rio Grande Kid, has his own hands full of more trouble than he thought possible when he pinned the star on his shirt. Yakima sends “the Kid” to Tucson to fetch the murdering rapist, Darl Deakin, and bring him by stagecoach to Apache Springs for trial.
What neither Yakima nor the Kid knew going in, however, was that Deakin has a passel of piss-burned Chiricahua Apaches lead by the formidable war chief Matiotish hot on his trail, intending to exact revenge on Deakin for selling their people diseased beef and causing many young and old Chiricahuas to die.
The Kid’s stage is run into a remote canyon, and now the Kid must fight off the Apaches to save his own hide as well as that of his undeserving prisoner, the hides of several innocent passengers, including an old woman, the old woman’s grandson, and a fetching young doxie named Jackie.
Wednesday, May 17, 2017
Fill a Stein and Grab a Bloody Haunch: The Ravings of a Bloodied Veteran of the Word Wars Now Available!
Peter Brandvold has been earning his living as a writer for the past twenty years. He’s written everything from articles and essays and short stories to over a hundred novels published by traditional New York publishers and, most recently, by his own Mean Pete Press ebook-original imprint. He’s written series books, including Longarm and Trailsman, under many pseudonyms, including Frank Leslie, and he also wrote the Bat Lash: Guns and Roses mini-series for DC Comics with John Severin and Sergio Aragones.
Here he is, standing up during a lull in battle, dusting himself off and spewing forth what he’s learned in the trenches, his insights and witticisms on these changing publishing times.
Here you will find the nuts and bolts about how to write with a good bit of chest-thumping thrown into the mix—a heraldic horn blown in a call to arms...or pens...or keyboards.
Here you will also find the simple honesty of a life lived hard and true to the writer’s calling—personal essays recounting a story-telling mother, friendships with dogs, and the ravages of divorce. You will also find two short-stories, one a spine-tingling horror tale set in the piney woods of the Deep South, the other a literary tale of life and death fought out by an old man battling a noxious weed commonly found on the northern prairie.
This is a rousing, entertaining volume for those writers and readers who want and need some inspiration as well as insight into the life not of a rich and widely heralded “author” like Stephen King or J.K. Rowling, but of a blue-collar writer often scrambling to make ends meet, of a writing life fought daily in the muddy trenches, bodies piling up all around, artillery exploding, bullets flying way too close.
Monday, April 10, 2017
Having finished Book 2 in my Bloody Arizona Quartet featuring Yakima Henry, the staff of Mean Pete Press takes the day off and heads for the hills...
CHECK IT OUT HERE!
Monday, April 3, 2017
Here's a sneak peek at the second book in my Yakima Henry Quartet, which is all but finished and should be up and running on Amazon by this weekend or early next week. (Keep in mind that "the Kid" mentioned here is a paunchy, middle-aged old reprobate still wearing the moniker of the Rio Grande Kid, thereby clinging to the former "glory" of his outlaw years...)
The Kid checked his mount down off Yakima’s left stirrup, matching Yakima’s pace. Emma checked her buckskin down off his right stirrup, also matching the half-breed’s pace.
“I was listening for gunfire,” Yakima said, “thinking you two might shoot each other back yonder. It’s a wonder what gold will do to you.”
“We came to an agreement,” the Kid said tightly, staring straight over his horse’s twitching ears.
“Well?” Yakima said when neither one elaborated.
“We agreed that I wouldn’t shoot him if he left that gold alone,” Emma said, looking past Yakima at her newly minted nemesis, the Kid.
The Kid turned to Yakima, his eyes indignant beneath the brim of his battered Stetson. “I think she woulda done it, just like she said. She woulda gut-shot me an’ left me there to bloat up an’ rot with her old man’s gun wolves!”
Emma winked at him. “My trigger finger is still itchin’.”
The Kid said to Yakima, “She’s purtier’n a speckled pup, Miss Emma is. But I’ve come to believe she’s meaner’n back alley cur with fourteen sucking pups!”
“When it comes to that gold, you better believe it,” Emma agreed.
“What’s the plan?” Yakima asked her. “You going to hounddog him for the rest of his days to make sure he doesn’t ride back out to that canyon?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“What about you, Yak?” The Kid studied the half-breed lawman, puzzled. “Don’t you want none o’ that gold?”
Yakima hiked a shoulder. “Believe me, when I first saw that church, I felt the fever. But how would you ever get that treasure out of that canyon without every seedy-eyed border snake in Arizona getting word and running out here to ‘help’? No one could ever be satisfied with only an ingot or two. You’d want the works or you’d never sleep at night.”
He spat over the side of his saddle, and chuckled. “Anyone tries hauling that gold out of that canyon is going to go up against an army of desperadoes intent on relieving them of it. Shit, there’ll likely be a war that’ll make the Misunderstanding Between the States look like a game of schoolyard kickball. Besides, look what that gold has done to you two.”
Yakima looked from the Kid on his left to Emma on his right. “An upstanding deputy town marshal and Hugh Kosgrove’s purty, polite daughter goin’ at each other like a wolf and a mountain lion trapped in the same privy. You two oughta be ashamed of yourselves.”
“It’s not the gold I’m after,” Emma said, defensively. “What I’m after is keeping the gold in the church in that canyon—where it belongs!”
“What do you think, Yak?” the Kid said after they’d ridden in silence for a while, the sun really burning down on them now at nearly midday, not a shadow in sight. “Do you believe that gold is really cursed like this purty wildcat says it is?”
“From the trouble I’ve seen it cause so far?” Yakima said, raking his gaze again between his two trail partners. “Hell, yes, I do!”