Saturday, November 24, 2012

You Can't Keep a Bad Man Down!

Mean Pete was feelin' a might on the logy side after the Thanksgiving festivities, what with all the champagne and beer and bourbon and cheap cigars he consumed while chasing around Hollywood starlets and Victoria's Secret models who helicoptered in to run half-nekkid throughout the compound, causing ole Thor to howl and thump his ragged tail, and for ole Miss Stella to go to bed.

Mean Pete considered walking over to his neighbors to request that they shoot him the next morning, and put him out of his misery.  But then, by gad, he stiffened his spine, took a deep breath, poured a hot cup o' mud, rolled up his shirtsleeves, and got to work on another yarn.

You can't keep a bad man down!

Above is the cover for the next short-story.  It's about half done but Mean Pete has a whole book to edit, another one to write, a copyedited manuscript to proof, cheap women to chase, and good beer to drink.  But rest assured the mean an' nasty ole coyote will have another short yarn up soon.

By the way, the horse skull in the pic was furnished by Old Shep, Mean Pete's old Montana border collie stray, who hauled it into the yard--with a couple tons of other bones and sundry grisly "souvenirs" best left unspecified--in Montana about twenty years ago now.  Old Shep is gone but not forgotten.  In fact, the old boy is still earning his keep!


Mean Pete

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Hot Lead, Outlaws, Diamondbacks, and a Beautiful Girl

Yes, that was Thanksgiving at Mean Pete's headquarters in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains!

Oh, by the way, "Poison Mean" is up and running at Amazon and Barnes and Noble...for only .99 cents.  Keep in mind, Mean Pete is not libel for psychiatric bills!

But even if you get committed, this is still roughly 25 pages of the most reading fun you're likely to have this holiday season...

Gidyup and pass the rattlesnake stew!

Mean Pete His Own Mean An' Nasty Self

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

"Poison Mean" Teaser

Here's a short teaser from the nasty little story I intend to have up and, biting...on Black Friday.

...the broadly grinning Ed Pine held the snake up above the table for inspection, the rattle flicking against the scarred wooden surface. 
     “There you go--now, see!  That wasn’t so bad, now was--oh, jackals in Heaven, look out, Marshal!
     The violently writhing creature leaped out of the old man’s hand.  It bounced off the table and hit the floor in front of Villanova, convulsing desperately and seemingly looking for something to sink its teeth into despite its no longer boasting its head!
     Being no friend of snakes dead or alive, Villanova leaped onto a near chair, screaming, “Christalmighty--corral that devil, you old coot!
     Pine stepped back, bellowing laughter and pointing jeeringly at Villanova while Eva rolled her eyes in disgust at her father’s funning ways, and hurried over to Villanova’s side of the table.  “He’s just foolin’ with you, Marshal.”  She planted one of her boots on the snake’s still wildly writhing body and wrapped a hand around it, about four inches back from its ragged, bloody front end. 
     Eva held the beast up in front of Villanova, stitching her sandy brows together as she said sweetly, “It can’t hurt you, Marshal.  See here--its head is gone.  This ole viper’s dead as a boot though the nerves in the tail ain’t got the message yet.”
     The girl reached up to close her hand over the cocked pistol that Villanova hadn’t realized was in his own right hand.  He looked down at Eva’s small, pink hand and his cocked Smith & Wesson.
     The old man had stopped laughing.  Pine stood on the other side of the table, head canted to one side as he studied Villanova critically, his vaguely wary, suspicious eyes flicking from his daughter’s hand on the cocked gun to Villanova’s flushed face, and back again.
     A pine knot popped in the stone hearth.
     From inside the gunnysack on the table came another low rattle.  There were another three or four snakes in there, writhing around, no doubt looking for a way out.
     The girl pushed down on the gun.  Villanova had a mind to shoot the old coot, but that might ruin his chances with the man’s daughter.  The outlaw lowered the weapon, depressed the hammer, and gave an embarrassed chuckle. 
     “Shit!” he said, jumping down off the chair.  “You sure had me goin’, old-timer!”
     He reached for his cup and threw the whole drink back to steady his nerves.

Monday, November 19, 2012

Poison Mean

No, Poison Mean is not the title of Mean Pete's autobiography.  But it could be!  This "Poison Mean" is a nasty little venomous story that will be up and running soon for Kindle and Nook.  Reader beware--it ain't fer the faint of heart!

The outlaw Chet Villanova has gunned down his entire gang including his girl, the beautiful Delores.  All the loot is his.  He's headed to Mexico with thirteen thousand dollars in his saddlebags--a very rich man indeed.  

What...or who...could possibly stand in his way?


Mean Pete

Sunday, November 11, 2012

Lou Prophet Goes British!

Mean Pete's offices have been overtaken by the British!  Yes, the English are here and they're raiding Mean Pete's beer stash and smoking all his Swisher Sweets!  My dogs are tilting their heads and raising their ears at the funny accents!  Mean Pete himself can't understand a word they're sayin'--somethin' about how to get a couple suitcases of PBR on a winged iron vulture and back across the Atlantic to Piccadilly Street...or something like that.

With all their own highly-touted IPA and Scottish Ale an' such, you'd think they wouldn't be so fascinated by Mean Pete's (admittedly, rather impressive) stash of American-made Pabst Blue Ribbon and Olympia beer that he buys for under 20 bucks a 36-can suitcase...

Go figure.

Well, okay, actually none of the above is true.  Just more of Mean Pete's poetic license, aka balder dash.  The British are not here in person, but Mean Pete, being the international mogul that he is, a Victoria's Secret model on each arm and one hooked around his left knee, has swung a deal with them English over there--namely, with Dave Whitehead's and Mike Stotter's Piccadilly Publishing outfit--to reprint in ebook format Mean Pete's first six Lou Prophet novels, featuring ole Lou himself and his mean and ugly hammerheaded horse appropriately named Mean & Ugly.

I've long admired Piccadilly's lineup of gnarly western novels from the British past.  Truth be known, the Brits have been writing some of the gnarliest western fiction since the 70's, among them the great Terry Harknett's (aka George G. Gilman) wonderfully nasty and crafty EDGE series.  Another is the equally nasty and crafty though undeservedly less popular CROW series by James W. Marvin, (aka the great Laurence James, founder of the DEATHLANDS series for Harlequin, another of Mean Pete's favorites).  Dave Whitehead himself publishes harrowing oaters under his pen name, Ben Bridges, and Mike Stotter publishes in several different genres and under several different names, as well.

Piccadilly Publishing has a great past, present , and future lineup (view it here: and Mean Pete is proud as British punch to be part of it.  The current plan is to reprint the first six of the Prophet books and for Pete to possibly begin writing originals exclusively for Piccadilly sometime in the near future.  Up above is the cover of the first book in the series, done by the master Cody Wells himself.  If that smart-looking cover is any indication how the rest of the series will look, it's going to be one handsome looking virtual shelf of ebooks indeed.

The first one will up and running digitally next month, and you'll be able to find it at Amazon and Barnes and Noble and probably several other digital outlets.  Rest assured, I'll be sending up fireworks when Lou Prophet goes live.

It's time to get Lou Prophet back astride Mean and Ugly and galloping after owlhoots regularly!

The Old West needs them both.  Hell, the world needs them both!

Now it's time to make a trek down to my dingy offices and see if them English left me any beer.  Why does it smell like fish 'n' chips in here...?


Mean Pete His Own Mean Self

Monday, November 5, 2012

Licking the Frosting Bowl

Some days are better than others.  But back when I was a tyke, no days were better than the ones when Mom baked a cake or a pan of brownies and kicked my butt outside with a bib and the frosting bowl.


Mean Pete

(By the way, the Frank Leslie tome shown to the right, DEAD MAN'S TRAIL, will be officially released tomorrow...)