Posts Tagged ‘Native Americans’

One book reviewer described our historical adventure INTO THE AMERICAS (A novel based on a true story)  as being “like a motion picture in words.” Understandable given it’s set in the Pacific Northwest, which must surely be one of the most picturesque places on earth. 

Nootka Sound, Vancouver Island…where this true-life story is set.

 

Into the Americas is a tale of two vastly different cultures – indigenous North American and European civilization – colliding head on. It is also a Romeo and Juliet story set in the wilderness.

The storyline:

It’s 1802. Nineteen year-old English blacksmith John Jewitt is one of only two survivors after his crewmates clash with the fierce Mowachaht tribe in the Pacific Northwest.

John Jewitt…years later.

A life of slavery awaits John and his fellow survivor, a belligerent American sailmaker, in a village ruled by the iron fist of Maquina, the all-powerful chief. Desperate to taste freedom again, they make several doomed escape attempts over mountains and sea. Only their value to the tribe and John’s relationship with Maquina prevents their captors from killing them.

Mowachaht chief Maquina.

As the seasons pass, John ‘goes Indian’ after falling in love with Eu-stochee, a beautiful maiden. This further alienates him from his fellow captive whose defiance leads to violent consequences. In the bloodshed that follows, John discovers another side to himself – a side he never knew existed and a side he detests. His desire to be reunited with the family and friends he left behind returns even stronger than before.

Nootka village where Jewitt was held captive.

The stakes rise when John learns Eu-stochee is pregnant. When a final opportunity to escape arises, he must choose between returning to civilization or staying with Eu-stochee and their newborn son.

Nootka Sound…as it was in the days of the trading ships.

Nootka Sound…in more recent times.

Strait of Georgia, Vancouver Island….a potential escape route for Jewitt.

An older Jewitt…after his escape.

 

Into the Americas (A novel based on a true story)

Into the Americas  is available exclusively via Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Into-Americas-novel-based-story-ebook/dp/B00YJKM51E/

 

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Authors’ note:

Much of this novel was directly inspired by the diary entries of young English seaman John Jewitt during his time aboard the brig The Boston and also during his sojourn at Nootka Sound, on North America’s western seaboard, from 1802 to 1805.

 

Into the Americas (A novel based on a true story)

A novel based on a true story.

 

“Many paddles, one canoe” –First Nations saying

 

Prologue

In the skies above North America’s west coast, amongst the clouds, a bald eagle glided in lazy circles. With her magnificent white head and tail feathers, and her six-foot wingspan, she was the queen of her domain as she made use of the thermals that rose from the unseen terrain below.

The clouds parted to reveal a village – one of many populated by the indigenous people of the remote Northwest Pacific region. Nootka village was bordered by rugged, forest-covered hills which rose up out of the sea. Comprised of twenty or so large, wooden lodges, it was home to the Mowachaht tribe, one of the twenty-five Nuu-chah-nulth indigenous groups that occupied the region’s craggy coastline. A two-masted schooner lay at anchor offshore, safe for the moment in an inlet with the unlikely name of Friendly Cove.

Distance was no problem for the eagle whose sharp eyesight could distinguish any object from another, even if those objects were little bigger than a pinhead. Right now, her eyes were focused on a Chinook salmon swimming between the schooner and shore. The eagle flattened her wings and dove head first, extending her wings moments before she struck the water. Talons extended and now in a shallow dive, the eagle grasped the salmon and, with a few mighty beats of her wings, rose sluggishly skyward with her catch.

The eagle’s labored flight took her directly over the village. If any of the villagers had been waiting for her, with bow or musket primed, they’d have shot her down easily for she was as yet barely higher than the colorful totem poles that lined the shore. Fortunately for her, eagles were sacred to these people and so they ruled the skies with impunity.

A trade was going down with a dozen crewmen from the schooner. Unkempt and ill disciplined, the crewmen were typical of the freebooters who visited these shores in increasing numbers. They carried with them an assortment of weapons and were clearly no strangers to violence.

Armed Mowachaht warriors, ever-mindful of bad experiences they’d had with other European traders, kept a wary eye on the visitors. Most were armed with muskets, some carried blunderbusses and a few bore traditional weapons, including clubs, spears and tomahawks.

The traders had come to exchange muskets for sea-otter pelts. Much sought-after, the beautiful pelts fetched a princely sum in the civilized world – especially in London and in Macau, China. Consequently, Nootka village and the sound named after it was an increasingly popular port of call for traders intent on filling their ships’ holds with the bounty of the New World.

Most of Nootka’s fifteen hundred residents were present to observe the trade, which was being conducted on a sandy beach in front of the village. Trading, especially with visiting Europeans, was a highlight of their short, hard lives. More so after the long winter months – as was the case on this pleasant spring day.

Among the Mowachahts, the common or untitled people wore sealskin and coarse cedar bark clothing, which afforded protection from the constant rain in these parts. The chiefs and men and women of high ranking wore animal skins and colorful capes or, in rare cases, the pelt of the sea-otter.

Headmen invariably wore the striking black sea otter pelt. It extended to the knees and was fastened around the waist by a wide band of colorful, woven cedar bark. The warriors wore square-cut, yellow mantles with holes cut for the arms – similar to those worn by the commoners except theirs were dyed red and were more basic.

Absent from the trading activities were the Mowachahts’ slaves. Acquired in raids on neighboring tribes, the slaves were readily identifiable as such as they collected firewood and performed other menial tasks in and around the village. Though they spoke the same Wakashan language as their Mowachaht masters, their appearance was quite different: each bore the physical characteristics of his or her tribe. Some were lighter skinned, others darker; some were tall and slender, others short and stocky; some male slaves were bald or wore their hair short, others wore their hair in long ringlets; most wore raggedy sealskin clothing while some were near-naked. Their number included almost as many females as males – the former more often than not serving as sex slaves as well as manual workers.

Above the beach, the Mowachahts’ lodges extended to the tree line. They were a sprawling collection of wooden dwellings, the remnants of a Spanish trading outpost vacated some years earlier. Smoke from cooking fires curled up into the sky from strategically placed openings in the lodges’ roofs.

The totem poles – some even taller than the surrounding fir trees – towered over the lodges.

On the beach, there was an air of tension as the schooner’s master, Captain Alvin Walsh, an abrasive New Yorker with a well deserved reputation for dishonest trades, bargained with a group of headmen. Foremost among the latter was Maquina, chief of the Mowachahts. Tall, bronze and muscular, the middle-aged Maquina cut an impressive figure in his ceremonial cloak. Feathers protruded from his long, black hair, which he wore as a bun on top of his head. Like all the headmen, white down covered his head and shoulders, conveying the impression of falling snow.

Captain Walsh’s steely gaze was fixed on the bundles of pelts that lay at his feet while Maquina’s hawk-like eyes were fixed on a dozen new muskets stacked end-to-end in an open casket. The casket lay on top of five identical unopened caskets.

Hard-nosed bartering had begun soon after the traders had stepped ashore earlier in the day and, to both parties, it seemed a successful trade was no closer. Tempers were becoming frayed.

Maquina pointed at the caskets and, in broken English, said, “Maquina say…five pelts…one musket.”

Walsh shook his head. “One musket…ten pelts.” He appeared ready to depart, a shrewd strategy he’d fine-tuned years earlier when trading watered-down whisky to the East Coast tribes.

The chief quickly nodded to his opposite, indicating they had a deal. Walsh gestured to his men who immediately began scooping up bundles of pelts.

Maquina intervened. “Try musket first,” he said.

Walsh cursed under his breath as he motioned to his men to hold off for the moment. He then selected a musket from the open casket and handed it to Maquina. The shrewd chief ignored the offering and selected another musket. He expertly primed it and fired it into the air. The shot echoed throughout Nootka Sound. Still suspicious, Maquina broke open another casket. He tested a second musket with the same result. Satisfied, he made the faintest of hand gestures to his warriors who immediately uplifted the caskets and carried them away.

A relieved Walsh motioned to his men to resume gathering up the pelts. Under Maquina’s penetrating gaze, the captain appeared tense and he exhorted his men to hurry.

There was good reason for Maquina’s suspicion. The Mowachahts – like all members of the wider Nuu-chah-nulth community – had been short-changed, and worse, by European traders. As the number of visiting trading vessels increased, so too had the number of unsavory incidents. The indiscriminate shooting of villagers by drunk or disgruntled traders was becoming almost commonplace and the rape and mistreatment of women even more so.

And so it was with some malevolence that Maquina and his people observed these latest traders as they ferried their trade items back to the waiting ship.

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Early next morning, Maquina led a six-strong hunting party into the hills behind Nootka village. His five companions included Peshwar, a forbidding headman whose reputation as a fearsome warrior rivalled that of the chief and extended far beyond the borders of the Mowachahts’ territory. All six hunters carried shiny, new muskets acquired in the previous day’s trade, and they were keen to put them to good use.

Ahead of them, in dense forest, an elk grazed. Something spooked him. He wasn’t sure what – a scent or a sound perhaps – and he took off.

Soon after, Maquina spotted the elk’s tracks and knelt down to study them. He then led his fellow hunters deeper into the trees at a fast trot.

Elsewhere in the forest, the same elk burst into a clearing, disturbing a twelve-strong war party of Haachaht warriors, traditional enemies of the Mowachahts. They carried bows, tomahawks and other traditional weapons, and wore the grotesque wolf’s brow mask associated with their tribe.

The Haachahts’ chief, Callicum, a stocky man who wore a large nose-ring, stared into the surrounding trees. He flashed a hand signal at his warriors and they quickly dispersed. Now hidden from sight, they could hear the Mowachaht hunters moving through the undergrowth in pursuit of the elk.

Reaching the forest clearing, the Mowachahts stopped to study their quarry’s tracks. Maquina’s eyes were drawn to an eagle circling high above. He stared at the bird for a few seconds before returning his gaze to the trees. Sensing danger, he primed his musket. His fellow hunters followed suite.

A Haachaht bowman stepped out from behind a tree and aimed an arrow directly at Maquina. The bowman held his bow horizontal, in the manner of the indigenous people of the west coast. Maquina dropped to one knee and swung his musket up just as the bowman loosed his arrow. The arrow lodged in the throat of a tall Mowachaht standing directly behind Maquina. Mortally wounded, the warrior collapsed, choking on his own blood. Maquina killed the bowman with one well placed shot.

Haachaht war cries rang out as Callicum led his warriors out from the trees. Another arrow found its mark, killing a young Mowachaht. Reduced to four, the remaining Mowachahts fought like men possessed.

Two Haachahts closed in on Peshwar. He aimed his musket at the nearest of the two. A hollow click signalled it had malfunctioned. Cursing, Peshwar threw his musket aside and drew his tomahawk. “Peshak!” he swore as he grappled with his enemies. With two mighty swings of his tomahawk, the two Haachahts lay dead at his feet, their heads almost severed from their bodies.

As the fight escalated, a short Mowachaht aimed his musket at a burly Haachaht who rushed him, club in hand. His musket also misfired and he was clubbed to the ground. The Haachaht finished him off before he was felled by a musket shot.

Nearby, Maquina found himself fighting alongside Peshwar. “The muskets are faulty!” Maquina shouted.

Peshwar nodded. “The White-Faces have deceived us!”

The chief found himself face-to-face with Callicum who charged him with a tomahawk in each hand. Maquina raised his musket and pulled the trigger. This time his weapon misfired. Before he could reload, the Haachaht chief was onto him. Maquina was forced to back-peddle and use his musket to block his attacker’s blows. Peshwar came to his aid, wounding Callicum with his own tomahawk.

Seeing their chief in trouble, the other Haachahts seemed unsure what to do next.

Maquina and Peshwar took advantage of their enemies’ indecision and fled, dragging with them the other surviving hunter.

As they made good their escape, Maquina was consumed by the anger he felt toward the European traders. Yet again his people had fallen foul of the traders’ unscrupulous ways. On this occasion, faulty muskets had contributed to the deaths of three of his finest warriors.

 

INTO THE AMERICAS (A novel based on a true story)  is available as a paperback and Kindle ebook exclusively via Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Into-Americas-novel-based-story-ebook/dp/B00YJKM51E/

 

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The top rating historical adventure INTO THE AMERICAS (A novel based on a true story)  is rising up Amazon’s rankings and is currently available at the special Kindle promo price of 99cents.

Into the Americas (A novel based on a true story)

Into the Americas  is a gritty, real-life adventure based on one of history’s greatest survival stories. It was inspired by the diary entries of young English blacksmith John Jewitt during his time aboard the brigantine The Boston and also during his sojourn at Nootka Sound, on North America’s western seaboard, from 1802 to 1805.

Nineteen year-old blacksmith John Jewitt is one of only two survivors after his crewmates clash with the fierce Mowachaht tribe in the Pacific Northwest. A life of slavery awaits John and his fellow survivor, a belligerent American sailmaker, in a village ruled by the iron fist of Maquina, the all-powerful chief. Desperate to taste freedom again, they make several doomed escape attempts over mountains and sea. Only their value to the tribe and John’s relationship with Maquina prevents their captors from killing them.

As the seasons pass, John ‘goes Indian’ after falling in love with Eu-stochee, a beautiful maiden. This further alienates him from his fellow captive whose defiance leads to violent consequences. In the bloodshed that follows, John discovers another side to himself – a side he never knew existed and a side he detests. His desire to be reunited with the family and friends he left behind returns even stronger than before.

The stakes rise when John learns Eu-stochee is pregnant. When a final opportunity to escape arises, he must choose between returning to civilization or staying with Eu-stochee and their newborn son.

 

Into the Americas  is available exclusively via Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Into-Americas-novel-based-story-ebook/dp/B00YJKM51E/

 

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Historical Novel Review

Mirella Patzer, of Great Historical Fiction Book Reviews, has this to say about our historical adventure INTO THE AMERICAS (A novel based on a true story):

I have been an avid follower of all books by these authors, thoroughly loving each book. This book was no exception. There is a beautiful cadence to the story, flowing at a perfect pace while striking an easy balance between detail and plot.

The characters, especially the protagonist and his cohort, are fascinating in every aspect. They are deeply complex with differing motivations as they struggle to survive as slaves of the native people. Of course there is a bit of a romance, although that is a small contribution to the plot. 

What I enjoyed most is that it is based on the true story of John Jewitt, the son of an English blacksmith who sailed on The Boston and was captured by the Indians and later escaped. Of all the Morcan novels, this is by far my favourite. It is understandable why this was chosen to be made into film! An awesome tale! 
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To read the full review go to Great Historical Fiction Book Reviews:  http://historicalnovelreview.blogspot.co.nz/2015/11/into-americas-by-lance-and-james-morcan.html
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IntoTheAmericas ebook cover
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Into the Americas  is available exclusively via Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Into-Americas-novel-based-story-ebook/dp/B00YJKM51E/
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The following excerpt from our historical adventure INTO THE AMERICAS (A novel based on a true story)  is set in the slaves’ quarters in the village of the Mowachahts, in Nootka Sound, Vancouver Island, the night of the massacre of the crew of the brig The Boston. Two survivors of that violent event – young English blacksmith John Jewitt and grizzly American sailmaker Jonathan Thompson – adapt as best they can to their new surroundings.

Into the Americas (A novel based on a true story)

John and Thompson found themselves in the company of forty or more male slaves whose ages ranged from young to middle-aged. The slaves’ physical characteristics were noticeably different to the Mowachahts, signaling they were all from other tribes. Their number included several with Mohawk-type hairstyles, three whose heads were clean-shaven, two whose distinctly Asian features resembled the Inuits who lived much further north, a couple whose foreheads sloped back at a sharp angle, and several stocky individuals who seemed almost as wide as they were tall.

Nootka Sound, Vancouver Island…where it all took place.

If there was one characteristic they shared it was that they were all underweight and in poor physical condition. Their raggedy clothes hung off their spare frames and their faces were gaunt, as if they hadn’t had a good meal in months.

The newcomers weren’t to know their fellow slaves were the last to eat when food rations were in short supply. Even the villagers suffered deprivations over the long winter months, but for the slaves – male and female – it was especially tough as they had to rely on the generosity of their Mowachaht masters for any scraps of leftover food. Often, they had to forage for themselves if they wanted to eat. The pickings were slim in winter, and it was common for at least a few slaves to die of starvation over those cold, dark months.

Among the slaves was one with only one eye. He and the others stared at the whites menacingly.

The threatening reception didn’t go down well with Thompson who immediately bristled. Glaring directly at the one-eyed slave, he said, “What the fuck are you lookin’ at, One-Eye?”

“Thompson!” John hissed just loud enough for his belligerent companion to hear. “You’ll get us killed!”

“Ha!” the older man retorted. “I’ll throttle every last one of these sorry sons o’ bitches if they try anything.”

John’s concern grew as the slaves talked heatedly amongst themselves. They were obviously discussing the new arrivals – in particular the sailmaker who they now stared at malevolently.

The minutes passed and, to John’s relief, nothing happened. The other slaves went back to whatever it was they’d been doing. Some were greedily helping themselves to the contents of a large cooking pot that sizzled over the flames of an open fire. They used clam shells to scoop a porridge-like stew out of the pot into cedar calabashes that resembled crude soup bowls. That done, most dispensed with the shells and used their fingers to transfer the stew into their mouths. So hot was the food, they had to blow on their fingers to cool them between mouthfuls.

Nootka Sound…as it was in the days of the trading ships.

Smoke from the fire curled up through the larger of several holes in the roof. Not all the smoke escaped, so the atmosphere inside was quite smoky, which no doubt explained why some of the slaves appeared to have permanent coughs.

John and Thompson surveyed their new surroundings without enthusiasm. Besides half a dozen wooden apple boxes that served as chairs, there were no furnishings; the lodge’s dirt floor was reduced a muddy quagmire whenever it rained – as was the case right now. The rain had just returned with a vengeance. Where water had dripped down moments earlier, now it cascaded down and gushed through the holes in the roof, adding to everyone’s discomfort.

Most alarming was there weren’t enough bed mats to go round. As a result, half the slaves had to sleep on mats they’d fashioned out of palm fronds and leafy branches. There weren’t enough blankets to go round either, and some of the slaves used palm fronds and other vegetation as substitute blankets.

John and Thompson turned their attention to the large communal cooking pot in the center of the lodge. Those slaves who hadn’t yet eaten were now dipping their hands into a vile-looking stew and shoveling it into their mouths. Hungry though they were, the new arrivals resisted the urge to join their inhospitable companions. The pair sat down just inside the entrance, away from the others.

Thompson looked at John. “You alright, Jewitt?”

John nodded unconvincingly.

Thompson wasn’t fooled. He knew his young companion was going through his own private hell. The Philadelphian looked over at the other slaves. They were all staring at the two whites, and openly talking about them in their native tongue.

“The White-Faces smell like pigs,” One-Eye said to a bald slave.

The bald slave nodded. “They look like pigs, too.”

The others laughed aloud.

Thompson sneered at them. “Filthy animals. I’ll flatten these whale-fuckers if I get ‘alf a chance.” He spat in One-Eye’s direction.

“We can’t afford to make enemies of them!” John said with some urgency. “They’re slaves, too.”

Thompson bristled. “I told you, Jewitt. I’m no man’s slave.”

John wanted to make the older man see sense, but he didn’t have the energy. “I need to sleep,” he mumbled.

“Me too.”

Nootka Sound…in more recent times.

The two men crawled to the driest section of floor they could find close by then lay down and prepared to sleep. Thompson didn’t trust the other slaves, so he tried to sleep with one eye open, but that didn’t work. All the while, water dripped down onto them, keeping them both awake.

After an hour of tossing and turning, John turned to the dark shape lying next to him. “You awake?”

“Of course I’m bloody awake.”

His back turned to the others, John unbuttoned his shirt to reveal the two pistols he’d recovered from The Boston’s armory. The shiny, silver weapons were just visible to Thompson in the dim, flickering light of the fading fire.

The sailmaker’s eyes widened at the site of the pistols. “Where’d ya get those?” he whispered.

“From the armory.”

Thompson glanced around to ensure they weren’t being observed. He needn’t have bothered. The others were fast asleep. “You got ammunition for them?” he asked.

Embarrassed, John shook his head.

“What use are pistols without ammo?” an incredulous Thompson asked.

“You just never know.”

Thompson looked askance at John. “Christ, I’m gonna go insane here.” He turned his back on his companion, annoyed by the young man’s naivety.

Undeterred, John wrapped the pistols in a handkerchief and surreptitiously deposited them behind a loose board in the near wall.

 

You have been reading an excerpt from INTO THE AMERICAS (A novel based on a true story). The book is available exclusively on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Into-Americas-novel-based-story-ebook/dp/B00YJKM51E/

 

Product Details

 

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The courage of the First Nations people of North America is highlighted in our new release historical adventure novel Into the Americas. In particular, we focus on the hardy Mowachahts, of Nootka Sound, Vancouver Island, and their powerful chief Maquina.

Nootka village, the traditional home of the Mowachaht tribe…as it once was.

The following excerpt from the novel describes a whale hunt, which was an annual event for the Mowachahts and other Nuu-chah-nulth peoples of the Pacific Northwest. This passage describes the Mowachahts’ first whale hunt of the season. (The year is 1803; the setting is the chilly waters off Nootka Sound):

“Big fish!” the cry went up from a warrior in the stern of the lead canoe.

Maquina looked directly ahead. A mile distant, water spouts revealed the presence of a pod of humpbacks. The chief stood up and, pointing at the whales, rubbed his stomach theatrically. “Tonight, we fill our bellies until we burst!” he declared.

Maquina’s men paddled with more urgency now. The times they and their families had gone hungry over the long winter months were still fresh in the minds of each. A successful kill would provide sufficient food to feed them and, indeed, all the villagers for many weeks to come.

The paddlers were breathing hard by the time they reached their prey. A few final strokes and Maquina’s canoe was alongside the huge creatures of the deep. The other two canoes arrived moments later.

All powerful Mowachaht chief Maquina.

Maquina had already established there were seven whales in the pod, including a calf that swam leisurely beside his mother. Their sonar-like calls echoed hauntingly in the morning air.

At a signal from the chief, the three canoes suddenly darted in amongst the whales. Still the creatures showed no concern over the new arrivals in their midst.

Standing up in the prow of his canoe, Maquina drove his harpoon into the mother whale, which happened to be the nearest, then two warriors threw spears into her back. Lines tied to the spears were attached to sealskin floats.

The spiked tip of Maquina’s harpoon had lodged firmly in the whale’s head, prompting the mighty mammal to thrash her tail about. Maquina and his men had to hold on for dear life as the whale’s gyrations threatened to overturn their canoe. Blood appeared in the water all around them, attracting the tell-tale fins of sharks.

Only now did the whale’s calf realize something was wrong. The calf darted left and right in the water, but wouldn’t leave his mother’s side.

As expected, the wounded whale dived deep, taking the floats with her. The rope connecting the harpoon to the canoe’s bowsprit rapidly uncoiled and once again everyone aboard the canoe held on tight. The calf followed his mother, responding to the cries of distress that came from her.

When the whale took up the last of the rope’s slack, Maquina’s canoe was abruptly jerked forward at a steep downwards angle as the whale continued her dive.

“She is ours!” Maquina cried triumphantly.

The rope suddenly slackened. Mystified, Maquina started pulling it in. He eventually retrieved the harpoon and saw its iron spike was missing. Furious, he threw his broken harpoon into the bottom of the canoe.

Those in the other canoes fared no better. Peshwar’s experience was identical to Maquina’s, and Toowin’s harpoon snapped as soon as it struck the intended target. Three strikes and three broken harpoons. It was an all too common result.

Maquina cursed their luck as he motioned to his men to return home. They paddled in silence. Behind them, the wounded whale and her calf surfaced and quickly swam away to rejoin the others in their pod.

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You have been reading an excerpt from INTO THE AMERICAS (A novel based on a true story). To read more go to: http://www.amazon.com/Into-Americas-novel-based-story-ebook/dp/B00YJKM51E/

Into the Americas (A novel based on a true story)

★★★★★ “Wow…never a dull moment.” –Tony Parsons –Amazon reviewer

 

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INTO THE AMERICAS (A novel based on a true story), the latest novel penned by New Zealand father-and-son writing team Lance and James Morcan, has entered Amazon’s bestseller lists, climbing into the top 10 Kindle ebooks in the crowded Action and Adventure category.

IntoTheAmericas ebook cover

Readers resonate with this top 10 book.

A gritty, real-life adventure based on one of history’s greatest survival stories, Into the Americas  was inspired by the diary entries of young English blacksmith John Jewitt during his time aboard the brigantine The Boston and also during his sojourn at Nootka Sound, on North America’s western seaboard, from 1802 to 1805.

It’s a tale of two vastly different cultures – Indigenous North American and European civilization – colliding head on. It is also a Romeo and Juliet story set in the wilderness.

To see what reviewers are saying about this top rating book go to: http://www.amazon.com/Into-Americas-novel-based-story-ebook/dp/B00YJKM51E/

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