Adult Westerns

Here are some of my adult westerns just now up at both Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

The first exciting novel in a series of erotic westerns featuring two undercover agents, Bear Haskell and his sometimes sidekick, Raven York.

Bear Haskell is a rough and tumble Texan and veteran of the Civil War who fought on the side of the Union. Raven York is a proud Yankee from a wealthy eastern family with aristocratic ties to Scotland. Dissatisfied with her life as a rich, well-traveled, and educated heiress, Raven headed West against her family’s wishes and went to work for Allan Pinkerton as an undercover agent.

As Pinkerton’s top agents, Bear Haskell and Raven York get all the toughest assignments: tracking down killers, kidnappers, con artists, bank robbers, and train bandits of every stripe throughout the West. But the two couldn’t be more different and are constantly at odds with each other. While they do not care for each other personally, they respect each other’s work. And, they hunger for each other in the bedroom.

Conflicted by their professional and ravenously sexual relationship, Bear and Raven do not confine their sexual adventures to each other. In fact, Pinkerton strictly forbids his agents from becoming personally or sexually involved with each other. Still, their paths are clearly intertwined, and the two must find a way to work together as they navigate—and trip over—the often humorous muddle of sexual temptation against the backdrop of the late-nineteenth-century West.

An ADULT WESTERN! THE HOTTEST, SEXIEST AND MOST VIOLENT ADULT WESTERN SERIES EVER PUBLISHED.. 

Saddle up and ride the hot and wild trails of the old frontier with the Revenger, Mike Sartain, as he rights wrongs for people who can’t right the wrongs themselves… 

All Available at the Ebook Outlet of Your Choice

Including

AMAZON

&

BARNES & NOBLE

Mean Pete's Wild-Ass Horror Novel Coming Soon

COMING IN A MONTH (OR SO) FROM THE SO-UNDERGROUND-IT'S-DAMN-NEAR-IN-AUSTRALIA MEAN PETE PRESS!

The Devil's Seven Working Journal

As I mentioned, I'm keeping a working journal as I compose this latest western actioner featuring Lou Prophet and Louisa Bonaventure. I thought I'd post the first couple of entries here and then some more later on.  

April 22—Chapter 1, Opening Two Paragraphs
There, I got her started. I wasn’t going to start today but I just finished and turned in my last book, and I was sitting here waiting for happy hour and had a hankering to write the first sentence of the new Prophet book. So I did. I wrote three, in fact. Hope that first one isn’t too long, but that’s how the voice in my head spoke to me. It does what I like to do in the opening—puts the main character on stage right off the bat, and gives some details about the setting. And I know Prophet readers enjoy reading about Mean and Ugly, so I brought in the cantankerous horse, as well.
            Time for a drink...or two. Too warm and windy to take Sydney, my old Australian shepherd out for a walk. Might sit on the patio and read the western I’m reading, A Strange and Bitter Fruit, which is a strange and bitter fruit, indeed. Not published as a western, though, which is ‘strange.’ Is the author ashamed? The book is oddly compelling though poorly written and I think I’ll go into more of what I like and don’t like about that book as I’m writing my own. Not to offend the author. He definitely has skill and, hey, I’m sticking with it—roughly a third of the way through-- so he’s doing something right.
            Might put up the hummingbird feeder and fire up the grill. This is the first day that really felt like summer, and my eyes are  burning because the rabbit brush is blooming right off the patio.
            I love it when I finish a day’s work and am looking forward to getting back to it tomorrow. Sweet.

April 23—Chapter 1
Well, I’ll be hanged if I’m not getting the biggest kick out of writing about the old Confederate, Lou Prophet again! Slipped right back into the voice that just came to me when I started writing the first book nearly fifteen years ago now. Funny how a different narrator slips into my head for each of the series I write. A different person with a different personality, a different outlook.
            The Stillman books are a tad more serious than is the narrator for the Prophet books, but that narrator must be a close cousin to the narrator of Prophet, because there’s quite a bit of humor there, too.  The Rogue Lawman narrator is a grim bastard. Almost depressed, clinically so! But I still try for humor in that series, because I don’t think any yarn is complete and well-rounded without humor. I tend toward gallows humor in the Rogue Lawman books, however. Most of the novels I read, or try to read, these days are flat, almost without any personality at all, as though their writers are nothing more than keyboards.
            The Spurr Morgan narrator is more Twain-ish, with a little of the bittersweetness of Stephen Crane and Hamlin Garland in him, since Spurr is old and nearing the end of his stormy life. Cuno Massey is lighter, almost a juvenile voice, as is the Colter Farrow voice. Prophet is light and whimsical, even in the more serious Prophet books, but the voice I’m channeling here seems to be close to the voice that dictated the first Prophet book to me—The Devil and Lou Prophet. The voice here is the voice of an old, corn-sipping Southern uncle narrating his experiences in the Wild West after the War of Northern Aggression.
            It’s good to have him back. He’s a man with a bit of poetry in his soul, and some bawdy Southern charm, and he likes horses, too, which is good, because Mean and Ugly really needs to come to life. He’s a character in the books, too, after all.
            There’s no action in this scene yet, and I usually don’t cotton to that, especially in the beginning of a book. I like to start wild, with the hero or heroine already dodging bullets. But there is a sense of menace here, and anticipation and anxiety, because Prophet is meeting some mysterious person who slipped a note under his hotel room door, telling him to visit an abandoned cavalry outpost if he wants learn about the fate of his comely partner, Louisa Bonaventure. The ghosts of two cavalry soldiers, long since murdered by Arapahos, suddenly showed up of nowhere, and they’re dancing to a scratchy fiddle, so there’s a little of the occult here, too. A ghost story!
            Prophet is a Southerner, after all, and they’re a might on the hoo-dooy, superstitious side, not unlike old Huck Finn...
            Onward!

            Done with chapter one. I hope I’ve put the reader in the time and the place and given him a menacing chill. Prophet has one for sure now as he walks down into the ruined outpost.
            If you read this part of the book, you’ll notice I’ve not included much background information on Prophet. I’ve alluded to his pact with the devil that was explained in previous books, and it all needs to be clear here, too—how the war devastated him to the point that he made a deal with Ol’ Scratch: if the Devil lets him enjoy the time he has left on earth, he’ll shovel all the coal the old demon wants down in hell. But that’ll come later. I hate it when writers fill up their first chapters with big chunks of bland background information. That stuff will come into the story, but I’m hoping I’ll find more creative, colorful ways to do it than just spewing it out via bald exposition. There are ways to do that and to still keep the action moving, the reader’s senses engaged.

April 25—Chapter 2
I wrote all of chapter two today. It’s damn near five o’clock and I clocked over 2k words—just in time for happy hour! Wrote the last 500 after an afternoon walk with Syd—a walk I hardly remember even taking because I was Lou Prophet, stealing down that rocky bluff, my trusty Winchester ’73 in hand, on the way to investigate the remote, long-abandoned cavalry outpost where several years ago Prophet had spent a jittery night, watching two ghosts of cavalry soldiers dancing hand in hand to the strains of a scratchy fiddle. I have no idea where this crap comes from. I didn’t think that up before I sat down. It just seeped out of my fingers as they danced across the keyboard. But I think it works as it adds to the menace of the situation down there in that ghostly outpost.
            I have Louisa on the scene now, too, in what I hope was a bit of a surprise for the reader and in a way that also added some tension. It’s all action and tension here—crisp images of the fort and the old officer’s quarters and surrounding buttes and the liver-colored cat that showed up unexpectedly--with very little background, and that’s how I want this book to be. All action all the time. What you learn about Prophet and Louisa you get through action—or at least through active thoughts.
            Now, let’s see who brought Prophet and the Vengeance Queen to this remote outpost, and what they’re up to.

Coming Next Month From Mean Pete Press

Lou Prophet and Louisa Bonaventure ride again in about a month....

I'm writing THE DEVIL'S SEVEN JOURNAL as I write this new Lou Prophet novel, which is sort of a writer's log of reflections on how and why I do what I do as I write, the choices I make. I'm going to publish it separately. It's been fun to do and I figure it might be of interest to other writers, especially those just starting out.

Website Updated!

Many folks have been writing in asking when my website will be updated and/or for complete book lists. 

Well, both have been done! 

The website is updated--simplified and streamlined from before with an emphasis on book lists under my various pen names. So please check it out!

www.peterbrandvold.com

Graphic Audio Podcast Interview

Tune in here to listen to a podcast interview with Mean Pete and his alter ego, Frank Leslie, in which Mean Pete and Frank wax poetical about writing about the WILD WEST!

INTERVIEW

NOW AVAILABLE--BLOOD TRAIL OF THE HORSETOOTH WIDOW featuring YAKIMA HENRY!

Buy here at AMAZON

NEW AND EXCLUSIVE FROM MEAN PETE PRESS!

YAKIMA HENRY RIDES AGAIN!

The drifting half-breed, Yakima Henry, is fleeing a warrant on his head in Colorado and longing for a stake and some long-sought peace and quiet in Old Mexico.

But when he stops in the little town of Horsetooth for a drink to cut the trail dust, he ends up having to kill a saloon owner and falling for the dead man’s beautiful wife.

A man just can’t help himself when assaulted by the wiles of the beautiful Mexican seductress, Paloma Collado . . . the former Mrs. Clancy Brewer.

But Yakima’s new round of trouble is just beginning . . .

It turns out that the lovely Paloma already had a lover—one who’d just robbed an Army payroll and after being scalped and blinded in one eye by Apaches, hid the loot somewhere in the Chiricahua Mountains. And she wants Yakima to help her find it.

Only, a whole lot of other people are also after that loot, including an albino cavalry lieutenant, a man who may or may not be a deputy United States marshal, a slough of banditos, and several swarms of blood-thirsty Apaches...

THE WILDEST, SEXIEST, BLOODIEST FRANK LESLIE NOVEL YET!

From inside BLOOD TRAIL OF THE HORSETOOTH WIDOW:

“Yakima.” Paloma pulled the buckskin up to within ten feet of the half-breed. Her eyes were round and soft. She hadn’t called him anything but a pig since he’d rescued her from the rustlers’ ranch, so this was a change. “You know there is almost a hundred thousand dollars in gold, silver, and paper money in that box.”

         “That’s what I hear.”

         “If you shoot this man, this so-called lawman, it can all be ours.”

         “Hey, now,” MacElvy objected.

         “He is not even a lawman,” Paloma said, wrinkling her nose at him. “He calls himself one, but everyone knows he is an outlaw. He stole that badge from the deputy United States marshal he killed. Everyone knows that, too, but no one says anything because they are afraid of him. He runs with no gang, but he is a killer. A shootist. A regulator. If someone wants somebody dead, and they have enough money to hire it done, they hire him to do it.”

         “Well, now, listen to this,” MacElvy said, laughing. “That’s pretty damn good. You must’ve been concocting that story for a time now. That’s why you been so damn quiet. Been runnin’ your brain instead of your mouth for a change. That lie ran pure as rain water off your devilish little tongue, senorita.”

         MacElvy caught Yakima studying him, and he opened and closed his gloved hand around the breech of his carbine.

         “Don’t make the mistake of falling for that, now, breed . . . uh, I mean Yakima. She’s pretty, and I’m sure you had a good time in the sack with the lyin’ little trollop, but lyin’ little trollop is just exactly what she is.”

         Paloma stared at Yakima, her wide, dark-brown eyes deep with desperation. “Once he gets his hands on that money, he’s going to kill you. And then he’ll kill me”—she turned to stare in repugnance at the beefy lawman—“after he’s done what he’s been imagining doing to me, that is.” She shuddered. “The thought sickens me. I’d rather lie with javelinas.”