I’ve been fortunate enough to
receive wide acclaim already for my Sundown Press novel THE PEACEMAKER, including 5 star reviews from 2 of the most
successful western authors in the business. Spur award-winning and Pulitzer
Prize-nominated author ROBERT VAUGHAN describes it as ‘a great book’. Meanwhile
RALPH COTTON (also a Pulitzer-prize nominated novelist) writes: ‘For pure writing style, McBride’s
gritty prose nails the time and place of his story with bold authority. …this
relatively new author has thoroughly, and rightly so, claimed his place among
the top Old West storytellers.’ I’m very grateful to both Robert & Ralph
for their fantastic support.
Today I thought I’d talk briefly
about the genesis of the novel, how it came to be.
When I
was a boy growing up in England, it was a school friend who set me down the
long trail to the Wild West. He loaned me a book called ‘Broken Arrow’ which was a junior version of Elliot Arnold’s great
novel ‘Blood Brother.’ Broken Arrow
was, of course, the title of the 1950 movie starring James Stewart and Jeff
Chandler, made from Arnold’s book.
Jeff Chandler (as Cochise) and James Stewart in 'Broken Arrow'
I was
instantly absorbed in the story of the Chiricahua Apaches under their tragic,
haunted leader COCHISE. Just about the same time, I started visiting my pal’s
house to watch the new TV Channel BBC 2. One of its signature programmes was
the TV western series ‘The High Chaparral.’
As synchronicity would have it, this show used as its backcloth the war with
Cochise. It also broke the mould of TV Westerns by being filmed almost entirely
on location in the Southern Arizona desert, a landscape I instantly fell in
love with. Later I saw the Old Tucson locations used again and again in movies
from ‘Rio Bravo’ to ‘Winchester 73.’
Growing
up I became fascinated by the 19th Century American west and
particularly Native American culture and history. I was moved by famous
passages of Native American oratory, such as Cochise’s speech where he asks:
‘Why do the Apaches wait to die? Why do they carry their lives on their
fingernails?’
Some famous Apache leaders:
Geronimo
Victorio
Other Apaches:
Victim of the Apache wars:
Journalist
Fred W. Loring, photographed in
Arizona November 5, 1871, 4 hours before he was killed by Apaches.
I wanted
a story that combined tough action with an interracial love affair; that dealt
with Native American culture and the struggle of people to survive in a land
that was both mercilessly cruel and astonishingly beautiful. Out of such
elements THE PEACEMAKER was born. I hope you enjoy it.
BLURB for THE PEACEMAKER:
Eighteen-year-old scout Calvin
'Choctaw' Taylor believes he can handle whatever life throws his way. He’s been
on his own for several years, and he only wants to make his mark in the world.
When he is asked to guide peace emissary Sean Brennan and his adopted Apache
daughter, Nahlin, into a Chiricahua Apache stronghold, he agrees—but then has
second thoughts. He’s heard plenty about the many ways the Apache can kill a
man. But Mr. Brennan sways him, and they begin the long journey to find
Cochise—and to try to forge a peace and an end to the Indian Wars that have
raged for so long. During the journey, Choctaw begins to understand that there
are some things about himself he doesn’t like—but he’s not sure what to do
about it. Falling in love with Nahlin is something he never expected—and finds
hard to live with. The death and violence, love for Nahlin and respect for both
Cochise and Mr. Brennan, have a gradual effect on Choctaw that change him. But
is that change for the better? Can he live with the things he’s done to survive
in the name of peace?
Buy it on Amazon — or read free with
Kindle Unlimited — here:
EXTRACT:
Choctaw blinked sweat and sunspots out of his eyes and began to lower the field glasses; then he glimpsed movement.
He used the glasses again, scanning nearer ground, the white sands. He saw nothing.
And then two black specks were there suddenly, framed against the dazzling white. They might have dropped from the sky.
They grew bigger. Two horsebackers coming this way, walking their mounts. As he watched they spurted into rapid movement, whipping their ponies into a hard run towards him.
The specks swelled to the size of horses and men. Men in faded smocks maybe once of bright colour, their long hair bound by rags at the temple. They had rifles in their hands.
Breath caught in Choctaw’s throat. Fear made him dizzy. His arms started to tremble. He knew who was coming at him so fast.
Apaches.
And you killed them or they killed you.
Choctaw blinked sweat and sunspots out of his eyes and began to lower the field glasses; then he glimpsed movement.
He used the glasses again, scanning nearer ground, the white sands. He saw nothing.
And then two black specks were there suddenly, framed against the dazzling white. They might have dropped from the sky.
They grew bigger. Two horsebackers coming this way, walking their mounts. As he watched they spurted into rapid movement, whipping their ponies into a hard run towards him.
The specks swelled to the size of horses and men. Men in faded smocks maybe once of bright colour, their long hair bound by rags at the temple. They had rifles in their hands.
Breath caught in Choctaw’s throat. Fear made him dizzy. His arms started to tremble. He knew who was coming at him so fast.
Apaches.
And you killed them or they killed you.
****
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