Hi guys, we have Mark Wildyr stopping by with his upcoming release Johnny Two-Guns, we have a great guest post and a tasty excerpt so enjoy the post! <3 ~Pixie~
When vacationing Denver architect Roger Mackie rolls into a quaint old trading post in Montana’s Bitterroot Mountain Range to gas up his car, it’s the start of a life-changing journey. Lean, handsome Chippewa Johnny Two-Guns is looking for a ride. He’s on a mission to recover some clan treasures. Roger is immediately smitten and drives Johnny all the way to Arizona.
Although the two successfully build a friendship, Roger is unable to initiate the intimacy they both seem to desire. A second visit gives Roger another chance to draw Johnny out of his shell. The payoff is spectacular, leading to a week of sex and discovery, during which Johnny’s innocent enthusiasm shows Roger a new side of love between men. But trouble is on the horizon for the new couple, as fate seems set against them. And what does the sudden appearance of sexy young architect Brad Beaver portend for the future?
Guest Post & Excerpt
Even though I am always excited when I have a new work coming out, the publication of JOHNNY TWO-GUNS on March 18 is of particular interest. I’ve had three different book publishers in my lifetime, but the experience of bringing this novel to print with Dreamspinner Press has been different from any of the others. Summed up in three words: they are “professional and supportive.” What else could you ask?
But enough about that. Let me share a little about myself, and then we’ll take a look at a scene from the novel.
Born and raised an Okie, I graduated from TCU in Texas (a double in Government and History), and then skedaddled straight to Germany with the U. S. Army. My preoccupation with history has survived the intervening years, but my interest in government didn’t make it. My present home, New Mexico, is an ideal place to nurture a childhood fascination for different cultures, especially Native American. History and cross-cultural interplay have become the kernels from which the Wildyr books grow. These novels are pretty evenly split between historical and contemporary settings. Although longer works of fiction are my preference, some 60 or so Wildyr short stories have found their way into print. I try to give back to the literary community by teaching a free writing class every Monday afternoon in an Albuquerque community center.
Now, let’s take a look at JOHNNY, whom you will find to be far more interesting than I am. The following is the Prologue to this contemporary novel about a Denver architect recovering from a recent divorce and a young Chippewa man who lives such a cloistered existence in Montana that he is a true innocent. Feel free to let me know how you like it.
The Bitterroot Range rose above the tops of the evergreen forest surrounding the ramshackle, tin-roofed house. A wiry young man strode out the back door and tripped down a set of three steps. His father, walking with a decided limp, followed along behind. An old woman caught the screen door before it slammed shut and watched the two head for the corral. Her throat nearly closed up on her as she perceived something different in the manly grace of her grandson. A deep frown marred the natural dignity of her features. She was worried about the boy—and he was a boy to her way of thinking. The outside world was reaching out to claim him. Her lips moved in an ancient Chippewa prayer, muttered in the mother tongue.
“You watch out for this bronc,” the father said. “He’s a bad one.”
The younger man spoke in a clear baritone. “Mean, maybe, but I see good horseflesh under those rollers he’s blowing. He’ll make a good working horse one of these days.”
The father switched a strip of rawhide to his other hand. They’d use it to blind the unruly buckskin while they put leather on him. “Likely, but there’s lotsa outlaw to leach outa him before that comes along. You ain’t rodeoing, so don’t be shy about pulling leather. And don’t let your mind get carried off by that other stuff.”
“That other stuff looks like a way to bring in some good money.”
A thundercloud hid in the look the older man shot his son. “We doing all right. You got a roof and a meal and clothes on your back. What else you need? Besides, you bring in extra for breaking mustangs.”
The younger man’s mouth tightened, but he held his tongue. It wouldn’t do to let on there was lots more involved than a little money.
They worked for twenty minutes just to put tack gear on the cold-backed animal. This one would fight the gear every day of his life. The father held on to the bronc’s flaring nostrils, and twisted fingers in one of the animal’s ears while the youth wrangled a light saddle into place.
As soon as the rider swung onto his back, the buckskin went up on his hind legs and came down hard. He tried out some stiff-legged crowhops before turning loose. The horse spun and sunfished his muscled body in a graceful arc before swapping ends—going up one way and coming down facing the other direction. His bucks were arm jerkers, powerful.
The youth looked to be glued to the horse’s back. Taking his father’s advice, he held on to the saddle horn during the worst of the leaps. If the blessed mustang would just tire out before he did, he’d have it made. And tomorrow, the pony wouldn’t fight so hard. And the next day….
They must have been going at it for thirty minutes before the horse stumbled.
I hope that gives you a sense of the book and holds your interest enough to prompt you to want more.
Here are some links where you can learn a little more about me and my writing.
And, of course, Dreamspinner would appreciate it if I included some buy links:
Thanks to MM Good Book Reviews for allowing me to guest post this blog. And thanks to you for reading. By the way, readers are my favorite people (even more so than publishers.)
Born and raised in southeastern Oklahoma, I am an Albuquerque writer of gay erotic fiction. How did I come to do this? Well, one day, I picked up an anthology someone had left on a table at a bookstore, a book my rural upbringing had not prepared me for. It was hardcore erotica. Nonetheless, I read a couple of the stories and decided I could write better than that…even in that genre. Surely, there was a way to make an erotic story more than just stringing one sexual escapade together with another.
So I wrote down the name and address of the publisher, went home, and wrote a story. The publisher bought that story and eleven others, none of which were ever published because of some sort of a legal dispute that essentially closed the business down. Nonetheless, I had sold and been paid for twelve stories, so I was now a “professional” author. That was in 2001.
After a three-year stint in the US Army, I tried oil painting with modest success before taking up writing. I have written forever, but not always in a focused way. Because of a childhood health problem, I spent many summers at the library doing research on other cultures—usually Native American—and putting the information into long themes or dissertations. Then I started making up stories based on my findings. In college, I majored in Government and History, and I have been a lifelong history buff. Now that I’m living and writing in New Mexico, which I believe is the greatest place on earth, I sometimes set my stories in Albuquerque or other parts of the state to give my readers a sense of the culture and flavor of my adopted home.
Writing allows me to relax and lose myself in the stories. Nothing would please me more than for you to get lost in them, as well.