Publishers Weekly
Teran's cinematic fifth novel portrays the 1910 Mexican revolution via the gun sights of an unlikely duo: Rawbone, a hardened smalltime assassin, and John Lourdes, a Bureau of Investigation agent. The two are thrown together when Rawbone is caught smuggling munitions from Texas into Mexico and Rawbone's lawyer arranges a deal: immunity in exchange for Rawbone sharing his criminal intel. A bargain is struck, with Lourdes assigned to accompany Rawbone into the Mexican underground. The twist: Lourdes, unknown to everyone but himself, is Rawbone's son. As the two men make their way through a snake's nest of smugglers, thugs and professional killers, Lourdes must suppress the angst he feels toward his father and focus on surviving another day. While this bit of dramatic irony quickly wears thin, father and son share a sharp wit, cunning instinct and thirst for adventure that make this spy mission the very definition of a thrill. Teran's fast-paced prose reads like it was written for the big screen (Universal scooped up the film rights), and even if the moralizing about U.S. foreign intervention gets heavy-handed, this remains an intelligent page-turner. (Nov.)
Kirkus Reviews
Father and son do that Oedipal thing in turbulent 1910 Mexico. Revolution is brewing, and (predictably) predators of every description smell opportunity in the looming unrest. Among these is a slick, steely-eyed unregenerate who calls himself Rawbone. He has adopted a creed he refers to as "the practical application of strategy," an operational philosophy that enables scoundrels to steal and kill with amoral impunity. Rawbone applies it unstintingly though not flawlessly. Having successfully hijacked a truck loaded with guns and ammunition headed for interested parties in Mexico, he suddenly finds himself in the hands of the newly formed Bureau of Investigation. If Rawbone will cooperate in a sting aimed at certain big-time robber barons, he'll earn blanket immunity for a lifetime of villainy. If not, it's the slammer. He chooses the sting, of course. Going along with him as a minder-no sensible law-enforcement chief would permit Rawbone any more free rein than absolutely necessary-is a smart, tough young agent named John Lourdes, no straighter an arrow than his charge. Lourdes isn't his real name, nor for that matter is Rawbone a real name, nor are the men new to each other, though only one of them is aware of the complex history they share. From the very outset of their dangerous mission, the two find reasons to dislike each other, dislike that grows into mutual detestation. But danger prolonged can be its own kind of crucible, transformative and finally redemptive. As always, Teran's prose (The Prince of Deadly Weapons, 2002, etc.) has an unfortunate way of turning purple, but the man can flat out spin a yarn.
From the Publisher
Praise for The Creed of Violence:
"Boston Teran's The Creed of Violence is a terrific story and beautifully written. It works as a story about imperialism, and it's also a touching tale of fathers, sons and one very bad man's attempts at regeneration. But most of all it's exciting and tense and you'll probably read it, as I did, in one great sitting." —Robert Ward, author of Red Baker and Four Kinds of Rain
“Teran’s considerable skills sneakily transform his characters, who use language like a concealed weapon. His Rawbone, a raconteur straddling the gutter between the old West and belle époque, is a Manila line braided with wit, cold-blooded efficiency, and a surprisingly expansive soul—a romantic cynic too wise to misinterpret derision for insight. The hallucinogenic epic he traverses with young John Lourdes produces one of the most exciting literary pairings since Fagin met Twist.” —Todd Field
Praise for God Is a Bullet:
“Ranks with Joan Didion’s The White Album . . . and John Ford’s classic film The Searchers.” —The San Francisco Examiner
“A millennial morality play . . . that might well have been written by William Blake [and] James Ellroy . . . if they’d all sat around with a few gallons of absinthe.” —Dallas Morning Herald
Praise for Never Count Out the Dead:
“Cements Teran’s talent as a . . . virtuoso.” —Publishers Weekly
