Spotlight & Giveaway: Devil’s Ride West by David Nix

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author David Nix to HJ!

Hi David and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Devil’s Ride West!

 
Hello, and hang on! Jake Paynter’s life is about to get worse…
 

Please summarize the book for the readers here:

Jake Paynter is still a dead man. With an unjust $1000 price on his head, every lawman, bounty hunter, and desperado west of the Mississippi is gunning for him. Jake just wants to be left alone. His plan to lay low with the Shoshone quickly falls apart, but before he can leave for far Yellowstone, his two best friends, Gus Rivers and Stacy Blue, show up with a dilemma. Miners at South Pass City are getting murdered by a man or beast—no one is certain—and his immigrant friends from the Oregon Trail are in danger. Against his better judgment, Paynter travels to the mining fields to bring the culprits to justice.
Hiding in an abandoned mine by day and sleuthing by night, Jake begins to unravel the mystery of the deaths while dodging the Pinkerton detective and the gang of Philadelphia cutthroats sent to kill him. As adversarial forces squeeze his freedom to a razor’s edge, Jake must decide whether to escape or remain and fight for his friends. Running might save his life, but making a stand might save his soul.
 

Please share your favorite line(s) or quote from this book:

Running away from trouble was like injecting morphine. Sometimes, it was necessary to prevent violent pain that might otherwise overwhelm a man. But every dose rendered it more the first reaction to pain rather than a path of last resort.

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

• I grew up in Wyoming along the Oregon Trail, so I’ve walked the ground where the story takes place. This story was inspired by those walks and tales told to me by old-timers.
• I found a treasure trove of folks on YouTube who show how to clean, load, and fire all the antique weapons in the story. Who knew?
• Because the indigenous people of the Wind River an important role in the story, I consulted with the former CEO of the Northern Arapahoe tribe to ensure I represented those characters truthfully and respectfully.
• The story features several flashbacks to the Civil War with the First Kansas Colored Volunteers, the first and most accomplished all-black regiment in the war.
• Several scenes in South Pass City occur in a general store that is still standing 150 years later – a place where I have shopped.
• A fictionalized Esther Morris features in the story. She was the first woman elected to office in the United States – Justice of the Peace for South Pass City.

What first attracts your Hero to the Heroine and vice versa?

Jake Paynter is a loner haunted by his past and eminently dangerous. However, he pours out himself for others and desperately avoids violence – until he can’t. Though others see these qualities in him, he cannot see them in himself. He is attracted to Rosalyn, a woman he feels is far above him. However, she admires him deeply though her brother tries to nip her growing interest in the bud.

Did any scene have you blushing, crying or laughing while writing it? And Why?

There are several scenes where Jake tries to come to terms with his violent past, but struggles. These are the moments when I felt the most empathy for Jake. This is one such scene, where he recalls a Civil War battle as an officer of the First Kansas Colored Volunteers (a battle in which First Kansas actually fought).
Snippet:

When the shadows of the horses moved away, Jake stripped and waded into the creek with his clothes in hand. The crispness of the water briefly stole his breath. He washed his clothes as best he could before splaying them across a rock beside the bank. Then he returned to the center of the pool and submerged himself before floating upward on his back. Patches of stars among a scatter of invisible clouds led him down halls of memory to another cold creek during another hot summer in the year of ’63.
Jake led the way as the First Kansas Colored Volunteers sprinted toward Cabin Creek while projectiles hummed past. A scatter of friendly cavalry held the far bank, but barely. As Jake hit the water, he lost his breath so suddenly he feared an enemy bullet had found his chest. When breath came in a rush, he realized it was just the shock of cold in the withering heat of early July. As he slogged through the creek, his mind strayed from the barrage of lead flying past his exposed head. The creek was cool. Oh, how he’d love to lie back in its comforting waters and watch the sky for a while. Forget about everything for a time. Only when Gus Rivers knocked down the man trying to bayonet Jake did he wake from his reverie. Jake finished off the attacker with a bayonet of his own.
“Wake up, Paynter!” Gus shouted. “We’re dyin’ out here!”
Jake whipped his head side to side to find men—his men—falling under the enemy onslaught. His killer nature flared to life. “Let’s git, dammit!”
He charged the Confederate pickets like a madman, not caring if he survived the act, and only vaguely aware that his men had become efficient killers in his wake. He pressed the fight against desperate defenders, showing no quarter, until there was no one left to fight. When he collapsed in the dirt, it was not from exhaustion or triumph, but from sudden lack of purpose.
The vivid memory stirred Jake from the creek. As he dressed, he considered his new purpose. His new mission. Unlike those bloody days of the war, he was tasked with saving lives, not taking them. He knew, though, deep in his gut, that it was only a matter of time before his killer nature would resurface. The thought of it left him hollow as he picked his way through the night toward the darkness of his cave, a wounded dragon of war seemingly unable to find peace.

Readers should read this book….

If they love complex heroes, redemption stories, and epic journeys. They should read this book if they want to hear all the voices of those who are part of the tapestry of the American West, including those who are often neglected.

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have in the works?

The first novel in the Jake Paynter series is available now, and the third and final installment will release in August. I’m working on an outline for another western series set during the lawless days of the California goldrush featuring a hero who can’t remember who he is. I also write historical romance as Sawyer North, and have a new release dropping in June called The Lord Pretender, a Regency era body-swap rom com.
 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: Two e-books of Devil’s Ride West.
One signed copy of Devil’s Ride West.

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: What quality of Jake Paynter so inspires the trust of others, even though he is condemned to die for murder?

 
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Excerpt from Devil’s Ride West:

This is an early scene where Jake is allowed to bear witness to the Shoshone conducting a buffalo hunt, though he is still an outsider without the status to participate. Beah Nooki, a Shoshone elder, has taken it upon himself to draw Jake from his isolation.

“Wake up, Paynter.”
Jake sprang awake in darkness, ready for a death match before realizing the voice belonged to Beah Nooki. “What’s going on?”
“Come.”
Without further question, Jake dressed, gathered the mare and his weapons, and followed the old man toward a gathering of shadows. As he drew closer, the vague forms resolved into a host of hunters on horseback, armed with bows and spears. Most of the rifles had been left in camp, it seemed. A trill of excitement rose within Jake. Was he to hunt buffalo with the Shoshone this day? As if sensing those thoughts, Beah Nooki gripped Jake’s shoulder with a gentle hand.
“You may not hunt today. This is only for Shoshone. You may watch, though. And when the hunt finishes, you will help slaughter buffalo. Is your knife at hand?”
“Yes. It is.” Jake must have failed to keep the disappointment from his voice, because Beah Nooki laughed.
“You will find blood soon enough, Paynter.”
Within minutes, the small army set out behind Washakie, perhaps four hundred strong, all mounted bareback and tense with anticipation. Two hundred more followed on foot, mostly women and young boys, dragging travois for hauling meat and brandishing an assortment of blades for separating hide from flesh, bone from sinew. Despite his prestige, Beah Nooki chose to ride alongside Jake, who appreciated the gesture. Beah Nooki appeared to understand Jake’s need for silence and gave him liberal doses of it.
“We draw near now,” said Beah Nooki after a few miles. “I smell them on the wind.”
Jake could too. It was not so much the odor of the animals as it was the musk of churned earth and bleeding grass. He watched the hunters draw into groups of fifty or a hundred under the direction of the older men, counting their arrows and checking their spears as they did so.
“Why no rifles?” The question had been plaguing Jake for an hour.
“Too hard to reload on a running horse,” said Beah Nooki. “And each hunter puts his mark on his arrows. The mark tells who killed the buffalo.”
Jake nodded with understanding. He who brought down a buffalo had first rights to the hide and the choicest cuts of meat. Marked arrows would prevent ugly disagreements. These thoughts were still in his head when the party topped a ridge and halted. Jake inhaled an awed breath. Below him, thousands of buffalo filled a valley like a lush, brown carpet, rippling with slow movements, drawn by the tender green shoots that had grown in the wake of a burning.
“Watch now,” said Beah Nooki. “Today, I hunt buffalo.”
As Jake settled back into his saddle to observe, scores of women and boys flowed around him to find vantage points on the hilltop, blissfully disregarding his presence. The line of hunters on horseback descended the ridge in three directions, flanking the herd. When the first hunters were nearly upon the buffalo, Jake expected the animals to stampede. However, they simply eyed the approaching horses and snorted a few half-hearted warnings. When Washakie waved a spear overhead in a sweeping arc, the hunters drew bows as one and sent arrows into the unlucky creatures ringing the herd. Initially, nearby buffalo wandered toward their fallen comrades with seeming concern, oblivious to the fact that death was upon them.
Only when the second wave of arrows penetrated hide did the herd react the way Jake had expected. A large bull charged one of the horses, only to stagger beneath a pair of well-aimed projectiles. It pressed forward with sheer momentum before falling at the feet of a dancing horse as the rider thrust a spear into the buffalo’s neck. As if cued by the bull’s collapse, the nearest animals turned and barreled toward the center of the herd. Within seconds, the ripple of panic propelled the entire population into flight.
With sharp cries and pumping fists, the hunters burst after the animals. Working alone or in pairs, the men isolated outliers and shot or speared the fleeing creatures behind the ribs in an attempt to puncture the lungs or heart. A dozen buffalo fell, then a dozen more as dust rose to engulf the valley. The blur of men on horseback raced through the murk, shouting over the bawls of angry or dying buffalo. A flash of white hair that might have belonged to Beah Nooki or Washakie flew by—old warriors, made young again by the ritual of the hunt that seemed embedded in the souls of men.
For a moment, the urge to wade into the midst of the slaughter welled up inside Jake. Before he could act, though, before he could disgrace himself, memories crowded into his head of smoking battlefields churned with mud and blood and filled with a dark symphony of the rage and anguish of men intent on destroying one another. He looked away from the carnage to gather his reeling senses, slowing his rapid breathing. When he dared to look again, the hunt had all but finished. The herd had moved on in a rush, leaving perhaps three hundred dead in their wake. The hunters circled the kills, shouting with joy and bloodlust. It had been a good hunt. The people would eat well for a long time.
The women and boys had begun moving down the hillside toward the kills before Jake realized he’d been left behind. He nudged the mare after them and struck out across the valley toward the carcass of the large bull who had dared challenge the attackers on behalf of his herd. Jake wanted to be the one to care for him in death, to honor his futile fight. Empathy was a fickle thing, springing up in the oddest of moments to remind a killer that a candle of humanity still flickered inside.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

Author David Nix writes an action-packed, authentic historical western series featuring:
• A former soldier with a target on his back
• A slew of bounty hunters determined to claim their prize
• A ruthless detective who wants to see Jake pay
• A breathtaking journey across the wild west
Jake Paynter is in deep trouble. With a $1000 bounty on his head, every law man, bounty hunter, and desperado west of the Mississippi is gunning for him. Jake’s plan to lay low with the Shoshone quickly falls apart, but before he can leave for far Yellowstone, his two best friends, Gus Rivers and Stacy Blue, show up with a dilemma. Miners at South Pass City are getting murdered by a man or beast—no one is certain—and his immigrant friends from the Oregon Trail are in danger. Against his better judgment, Paynter travels to the mining fields to bring the culprits to justice.
Hiding in an abandoned mine by day and sleuthing by night, Jake begins to unravel the mystery of the deaths. But as adversarial forces close in, Jake must decide whether to escape to isolation or remain and fight for his friends.
Book Links: Amazon | B&N | iTunes | kobo | Google |
 
 

Meet the Author:

When I was eight, my adventurous parents hauled our young family from the west coast to a Wyoming mountain town perched on the border of the Wind River reservation. That magical landscape infused my formative years with a wonder of local lore that was both historical and present, and revealed to me that often the greatest stories have been all but forgotten or were never told. After publishing science fiction and historical romance for ten years, it seemed a matter of destiny that I’d eventually return to the tales of my youth. The Jake Paynter series brings together fact and fiction to explore places, people, and themes precious to me.
I’ve called Austin home since 1998 with my wife and three children. The kids are grown now, but remain in and around the heart of Texas and consider themselves honorary Wyomingites. I’ve been away from that mountain town for a long time now, but never really left the place.
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