A Blog For Readers of Peter Brandvold and Frank Leslie Western Novels With News from MEAN PETE PRESS...
Monday, April 10, 2017
Mean Pete and Bad Buddy Head for the Hills! (And Bloody Arizona Book 2 is live on Amazon!)
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
BLOODY ARIZONA SNEAK PEEK!
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?”
“Nope.”
“How
come?”
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!”
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