From the dying lips of a Creek Indian in the frontier west of 1840 came word of a magical valley to the north, where no white man had ever been, the center of creation, where fountains boiled, feeding the clouds of the sky. Gemstones were there for the taking.
The buffalo god lived there, and beaver could be found in their thousands. A different kind of beaver. White as the driven snow. Beaver, whose precious white pelts could adorn the heads of ladies of fashion in Paris, just waiting for a man bold enough to go and take them.
Jake Styles, a ruthless speculator, determines to conquer and financially exploit the valley. He hires frontier scout and trapper Zeb Simms to guide him. The two are joined by twelve inexperienced greenhorns, as well as a Bible-toting preacher more interested in personal glory than the word of God.
Lame Bull, a feared chief of the Blackfoot and his band, whittle Styles and company down one by one, until itâ€™s just three men hiding in a hole in a rock, with no food and a few rounds of shot between them. The survivors are reduced to sucking grass for water, and eating lizard tails. Madness isn’t far away.
The bedraggled pair, Zeb and Styles, as different in their personalities as night and day, will stumble into a wondrous place where geysers spurt, where pots of colored paint boil, and stinking, steaming ponds hiss. But they’re being stalked, for a final showdown. Lame Bull, despite the warnings from his band, will ride into the valley and duel with the stinking gods to insure himself an eternal heroic place among the stars of the night sky.
The Gods Who Stunk is a story about survival, the limits of endurance, the joy of discovery, stupidity, greed, cannibalism, and the forbidden love of a white woman for her Blackfoot captor.
End of novel synopsis.
A young recruit learns the price of honor trying to win a medal for himself in the truce village of Panmunjom, on the volatile border of North and South Korea, between two of the world’s largest hostile forces.
The North Koreans are as tough and mean as the propaganda blaring from their loudspeakers.
In an era of push-button warfare, at Panmunjom they still fight like cavemen, with fists and rocks. An intimate and ribald portrait of what it was like to serve in an elite handpicked force at Panmunjom.
Based on a true story.