Silas Grant woke up screaming. He prayed the nightmares would end… But in the days since he disembarked the schooner Woodbury in New Orleans, images assaulted his sleep and would not relent… Blood. So much blood. Drops and spatters and sprays and pools. Silas covered in blood. Blood in his mouth and hair. Other men's blood. Blood of the men he killed… And blades. Always blades. Cutting a throat. Plunging into a chest. And a hideous, gleaming bayonet. Stabbing. Slashing.
These early words in David Z. Pyke's All Hot and Bleeding establishes trauma, guilt, and the promise of future violence as the novel's intertwined central subjects. At its heart is Silas Grant, a psychologically scarred young man who cannot escape the memory of what he did in Mexico. He is covered in the blood of the men he killed, blood he can't wash off or escape. The blood imagery tells the reader that what will follow will be graphic and visceral. It also signals that the violence of this immediate past is not behind him but is hovering in the present, haunting and incapable of being outrun.
Every warrior in the Comancheria recognized the value of a knife with an edge that never dulled and a handle that nestled in the hand. A knife that intimidated all who saw it and terrified all enemies who faced it. But no one wanted to own or carry or wield Tahquitz, and many were uneasy with it even being in camp. Because Tahquitz was imbued with the power of a demon.
Just as Silas is an instrument of violence, so is Tahquitz, a legendary knife that goes “beyond value.” With its mention, the reader knows that something supernatural has entered the scene, something older and more dangerous than the people discussing it. Characters have backstories, and so does Tahquitz. They have arcs, and so does Tahquitz. They have names, and so does Tahquitz. And not just a name, but the name of a demon. The knife is not a prop but a character, and its entrance changes the rules of the novel. Anything can happen now, and that's what makes this passage a threshold.
Silas's eyes went distant. “I promised myself I would never kill again. But tomorrow it seems likely I'll break that promise.” “For your sake, I hope you can keep your word. But tomorrow you will face people who do nothing but seek war. Your people and mine are not averse to fighting for any number of causes, honorable and dishonorable. But no people are so steeped in violence as the Comanches.”
The reader meets the Comanches, a group of Native Americans whose society is built around war and the torture of captives. They murder, rape, kidnap and kill, atrocities that to them are the logical expression of a way of life that measures meaning in the pain of enemies. The novel doesn't look away, rather, it documents their violence against children, women, and the people who refuse to obey them. Whenever they appear in a scene, the reader knows what will follow. And that knowing is what makes every new page more chilling than the last one. It is also what leaves the reader unable to put the book down because they are frozen in place, unable to look away.
It is brave to cite firsthand accounts of rape, torture, and murder in a manner that trusts the reader to handle it without tripping on the weight of what they are being asked to witness. It is also bold to write such themes in a language that refuses to protect the reader, forcing them to instead sit with the atrocities in a firsthand kind of witnessing. This is precisely what makes David Z. Pyke stand out among historical novelists. He writes not just about history, but from history, the latter of which is a brilliant and rare approach, one that authors often ignore because it demands too much of both writer and reader.
This book is tough in the best way because of its content. Its storyline is tough because of its scope. But the clear chapter structure, it's deliberate incorporation of short documentary-style chapters dubbed “Incident Reports,” and the consistently clear point of view ensures the reader never gets confused. The reader finds themselves appreciating the complexity, knowing that if Pyke had reduced the story's texture and depth, he would have lied about the past in question. He is an achiever who offers the world a glimpse akin to what the greatest film makers would have given us- a cinematic experience of unparalleled emotional immersion. The reader however knows that film makers would have flinched, cut away or softened the horror. Pyke doesn't, which is why he is unmatched.
—The Historical Fiction Company
All Hot and Bleeding is available for preorder and will be released Nov. 10, 2026. Rescuing Crockett is on sale through the following retailers:
