My early childhood was steeped in Westerns. I have my Granddad to thank for days watching Wagon Train, Rawhide, Bonanza and Gunsmoke, then later on, The Virginian and The High Chapparal. He also introduced me to Louis L'Amour and others as I devoured his collection of Western paperbacks.
Writing a weird western just grew naturally out of that background.
I'm not a believer in either a God or a benign universe but I grew up Church of Scotland, R.E. at school, church and Sunday school on Sundays. It didn't take, but some of the fire and brimstone seeped in and took hold. It sometimes, as in this tale, comes out in my writing.
The Ravine is a story of redemption, about men doing what men gotta do, fighting the good fight, and the consequences for their lives, and those around them, when they chose to do so.
The book is dedicated to my granddad, Jimmock. I like to think he'd have liked it.
Cavalry officer Stephens wants to keep his troopers safe, but when he is pulled into the oldest conflict of them all, he must choose - to serve, or to die.
Saloon-hand Jacob wants to live a quiet life, play his fiddle, and sink a few beers. But something has come to his town-something old, hungry, and far from quiet.
Farmer Joe Clancy wants to keep his herd alive long enough to be able to sell them and save his farm. But first, he has to save his family, as death stalks the corrals.
To fight the growing menace, the three men must confront their inner demons and an all too real evil, one that threatens the lives of everyone it touches.
Mysterious gunslinger? Yes. Noble cavalry officer? Yup. Rancher down on his luck? Oh yes. The Ravine has them all. What it also has are angels, demons and zombies, oh, and some very weird fish. Chuck all those elements together and you end up with a cracking tale of adventure and horror with some brilliantly effective set-pieces. - Dark Musings