Mean Pete--Head Honcho of Mean Pete Publishing

Wednesday, October 26, 2016

New Sheriff Ben Stillman Novella Now Available!




I just finished a 75,000-word novel about Sheriff Ben Stillman, but I just couldn't let him go. So I hammered out a 20k-word novella about him in about two weeks. The story just grabbed ahold of me and wrote itself. I'm not sure where it came from, but here it is...

A High-Powered, Brand-New, Action-Packed Western Novella Featuring Sheriff Ben Stillman...

Ben Stillman is on his way back to his hometown of Clantick after chasing illegal whiskey peddlers. He’s eager to be back in his warm home with his wife and young child. But when he runs into a saloon owner who’s been robbed, his best whore killed, the sheriff of Hill County finds himself on the trail of two young thieving killers, with a hard winter storm bearing down.

The saloon owner himself, John Stock, rides along with Stillman. Stock isn’t much help. He’s a loudmouthed drunk, and he ends up getting his horse shot out from under him.

Still, he and Stillman plod deep into the Missouri Breaks, on the trail of the two whore-killing thieves. Their trail leads them to Perdition Bend—a notorious outlaw hideout. There, surrounded by wooly-eyed outlaws with itchy trigger fingers, Stillman feels like the lone jackrabbit at a rattlesnake convention...

What’s even worse than the menace he’s surrounded by is the fact that the two young thieving killers are not who he was led to believe they were. And that nothing in this stormy hellhole is as it seems. Nothing, that is, except the nasty sting of hot lead and the coppery stench of blood!

From the book:

She gave Stillman an anxious look. “What’re you gonna--?”
The young woman’s question was clipped by a rifle crack muffled by the storm. The storm didn’t muffle the burning punch to Stillman’s right arm, however. It had popped through the waxed paper covering the window left of the door. The force of the slug lifted the sheriff a foot off the floor and hammered him straight back to the scarred wooden puncheons, which he hit with a thundering boom and a hard grunt.
His hat tumbled away.
Iris screamed.
Outside, a man shouted.
Stillman lay staring in momentary shock at the ceiling, gritting his teeth against the pain in his upper right arm. The front door exploded inward, and there was a deafening cacophony of gunfire. 
Check out RATTLESNAKE CONVENTION at Amazon

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