Having just turned in my next book (hooray!) I took a few days to reward myself by diving into my TBR pile. This past year has been a whirlwind of writing deadlines and I cannot begin to count the books stacked around my office waiting to be read. I figure with all the words that pour out of my mind, reading isn’t just a joy–it’s a necessity. Having been at least seven months since my last reading binge, I was ready to turn off the internal editor, unwind and let go. When I’m in the binge zone, there’s no pulling me back—it’s a few days of blissful, obsessive-compulsive, book-after-book reading.

I started my book binge with our own Geralyn Dawson’s historical, HER OUTLAW. What a fun read and intriguing plot twist with the hero—I’ve loved the whole Bad Luck Bride series and had read HER SCOUNDRAL and HER BODYGUARD during my last binge.   

Next was a contemporary romantic suspense, TRACELESS by Debra Webb—first book I’ve read by this author.  I don’t like anything too heavy in a romantic suspense (CSI creeps me out sometimes) and this book fit my reading preference—fast-paced, action-packed and a wonderfully tortured bad-boy-with-a-good-heart hero.  

Linda Lael Miller’s new historical western THE MAN FROM STONE CREEK was a great change of pace. I loved the rich western dialogue in this book.  While her historicals always have wonderful western flair, the hero’s way with words really stood out and rang true to me and added an additional colorful element to the story. 

Elizabeth Lane’s THE STRANGER was another treat for my western cravings. I do love strong tortured heroes and Caleb’s heart is on tenterhooks throughout this story.  So was I, as his past started to creep up on him, creating a powerful and touching reckoning for him and his heroine.

 Elizabeth Lowell’s RECKLESS LOVE was one of the books in my very first romance novel binge about seven years ago.  When I saw it as a reprint in February, I had to buy it—I never owned the first one, it was simply in the giant box of books my mom dropped off after I called her up and said, “Hey, I think I’m trying to write a love story—can you bring me some of those books you read?” (boy was that a life-changing moment—and the start of a month-long binge *g*) Still one of my favorite westerns—full of gripping dusty adventure and steamy emotion.

Maureen McKade is another first-time read for me. A REASON TO LIVE and A REASON TO BELIEVE have me looking forward to A REASON TO SIN.  I love series books, getting to visit with old friends while meeting new ones, and when that series is a western—I’m there! 

The last book on this binge was a paranormal/fantasy romance, LORD OF THE FADING LANDS, first book in the Tairen Soul series by debut author C.L. Wilson.  Beautiful world building, a touch of magic and a wonderful blend of intrigue, emotion and humor—I have to say, this is one of the most romantic books I’ve ever read. 

Eight books didn’t put much of a dent in my TBR pile, but I did manage to get a slight mix of genres, though hopelessly outnumbered by westerns    I’m hoping to fit another binge in before buckling down with the next deadline.  I have to carefully time my reading sessions due to my no-self-control reading tendencies.  I’ve always been a binge reader. When I open a book it’s like turning on a movie—I can’t stop in the middle—I have to finish it.       

Anyone else here with teetering stacks of TBR’s?  What’s in your pile?  Are you a book binger or do you savor books by reading bits at a time? 

Thanks to all who came by today and blogged about ideas and brownies.  Here’s a gift for you: His HOTness Tim Daly in The Outsider.

Smooches!

Well, not really – in fact there is no such thing, but I have told people that.  It’s easier than trying  to explain where ideas actually come from. 

A recurring question writers are asked is, “Where do you get your ideas?”  We get our ideas the same place everyone else gets their ideas.  They arrive at odd moments, usually when we’re not trying too hard.  When the left-brain backs off and allows the right brain freedom, ideas flow.  This happens in the early morning, in the last hour before falling asleep, in the shower, driving, and while baking. 

Relaxing my left-brain is my reason for shopping and making brownies. I had the idea for my novella in A Western Winter Wonderland for a long time.  The first thing I knew was the first thing I usually know: The Feel of the Story.  The atmosphere.  The way I will feel while I write and the way I wanted readers to feel when they read the story.  Unexplainable, actually, but for me atmosphere is the story skeleton, as much as plot outline or characters. 

A character always comes next.  For this story it was Marvel.  I knew she was lonely and had spent her life caring for an elderly father.  Life had passed her by, and she wanted more. She got the wrong man the first time.  Sorry, Marvel.  My bad.  I came up with Brody, an Irishman with a sexy brogue and a son and a backstory about his wife and her unscrupulous father, plus a whole complex scenario where the father-in-law cheated him out of his shipyards yada yada.  He was a nice guy.  Probably would have made a good lover and husband.  But he had too much baggage and something was missing.  Chemistry perhaps. 

So Marvel waited for her perfect man.   A couple years passed. When I needed a Christmas novella, I thought of Marvel, still lonely, still wanting more.  Story making can be better than real life, so I could fix that!  If my character gets the wrong guy the first time, I just delete him.  Poof!  And find her a better guy.  Along came the New Guy With No Name.  Now what? 

Give him character traits that will play off hers.  Give him a backstory, give him something she wants.  Give him a name….hmmm…. I put out a query to my blog readers: Please help me name my hero.  They had great ideas!  One of them had the perfect name.  As soon as I heard Seth Paxton, I knew Seth was right.  So I jotted down all the things I knew and plotted and made lists and a created a calendar.  I’m working on strengthening timelines and transitions, so I use a calendar to keep myself accountable. 

From my character and plot notes I wrote a synopsis.  From the synopsis I wrote the story. 

So you see, a story comes from jotting down resonating ideas and eventually assembling them into a plot structure.  It comes from sleeping and reading, from watching television and shopping, from showering and eating brownies.  That’s my latest story, and I’m sticking to it.

With a book due in only a few days (my sequel to UNTAMED COWBOY), I had no business being side-tracked by a news headline on MSN.  But the words jumped out at me, and I just had to read more.

Sex and Marriage with Robots?  It could happen.

Now, I don’t write science fiction.  I don’t read it, either.  So I sure in blazes don’t think science fiction, and this whole concept boggles my mind.

 An artificial intelligence researcher in the Netherlands recently completed his PhD work and only a few days ago successfully defended his thesis on human-robot relationships.  He claims the idea is not new–in fact, it goes back to Greek mythology when Pygmalion fell in love with a statue who eventually came to life.  The researcher even goes so far as to envision the liberal state of Massachusetts could be the first to legalize human-robot marriages by the year 2050.

It seems the great strides we’re making in the sophistication of electronics are responsible.  Robots have come a long way from being mere machines in a factory.  They’re becoming more human-like. 

More important, they’re programmable.

 We can give them intelligence, make them attractive (see the picture on the right–a robot woman.  Does she look real or what?!) and infuse them with personalities.  We can make them talk.  We can make them love us.  Already, companies have been marketing life-like sex dolls.  Last year, the founder of a robotics research network predicted within five years, people will be having sex with robots by giving them vibrations and audio responses.  (Um, the robots, not the people.)

Of course, this opens up a whole new can of worms.

There are some within the human race who have difficulty forming normal relationships with the opposite sex.  Or even the same sex.  The robot could fill a need for that relationship.  And what about the sexually perverted?  The pedophile–give them a child robot?  Give someone their very own prostitute to reduce that vice, too?  What about couples already married the traditional way–and one partner develops an attachment to a robot?  Issues of jealousy?  Infidelity?

My favorite quote in the article from the artificial intelligence researcher, though, pertains to a marriage/relationship that welcomes the robot among them.  He speculates “Instead of a woman saying, ‘Darling, not tonight, I have a headache,’ she could say, ‘Darling, I have a headache, why not use your robot?”

Why not, indeed.

Those of us who write westerns are enamored from the code of honor cowboys live by, and their respect for women ranks near the top of the list.  A hundred years ago, they wouldn’t have been able to grasp the concept of a robot as a substitute for a living, breathing human being.

But would a love-starved cowboy, lonely from weeks on the trail, sleeping night after night out on the range, welcome such a device strapped to his horse to satisfy his need for female company?

Hmm.  What do you think?

We’ve just heard back from our recent guest blogger, Jodi Thomas, and we want to announce her winners!  Drum roll, please!

 Buffie and Crystal B!

 These lucky ladies will each win a copy of Jodi’s latest, TEXAS PRINCESS, when it’s released in a couple of weeks.

Congratulations!

I grew up in New Mexico on a steady diet of red beans and fried potatoes. Occasionally, we might have a roast, some fried chicken, or pork chops. Only that didn’t happen very often. Also, once in a blue moon my mama would boil some spinach or greens. You couldn’t have paid me enough to get a bite of that green slimy stuff in my mouth! Yuck. But, as I grew older and left home a funny thing happened—my tastes changed. Now I love spinach, cabbage, and cauliflower, plus a lot of other foods that I turned up my nose at when I was young. 

Taste can also be applied to fashion and those changes for me on a regular basis. I’m not that finicky about clothes and shoes and purses. I like a lot of different things—mostly everything my daughters hate. It seems we have opposite ides of what looks flattering. Go figure. 

 But, what I’m finding totally amazing is the change that’s happened in my book preference over the last ten years. I used to scan through a book when I contemplated buying it to see if the heroine was young and if there were no “distracting” children in the story. If the heroine wasn’t late teens/early twenties or the story involved children, it went back on the shelf. I wasn’t interested in reading it, no matter how well recommended. Truth was, I didn’t give the book a chance. I wanted the girl young and the story free from anything that cluttered it up, like kids. My interest was only in the relationship between the hero and heroine. 

I’m not too proud of this, but I once spurned a good story simply because the hero was short. I didn’t care that he was handsome and tough. The fact that he was short ruined the story for me. 

Somewhere along the line, and I can’t remember when or how it happened, I drifted toward older heroines and I began to love stories that involved children. I found that children added a depth to the story that it probably wouldn’t have had. And now I can’t stand stories featuring some young thing that hasn’t lived long enough to have real character. Those go back on the shelves. I want my heroine to have had experiences that shaped her into the person she is.  Doesn’t matter to me if she’s married, widowed, or a spinster as long as she’s late twenties to late forties. And I want children, the more children the better. I want a rich, full-bodied story that tugs at my heart. I want the woman to have struggled and lost something very precious so that she knows when fortune smiles on her, she reaches for it with all the strength and tenacity she has. I want the same for my hero. He’s a man who’s rugged, who’s come through the fire, and who isn’t afraid to live life to the fullest. Rarely does he care what those around him think. He’s his own man and he walks tall even though he may not have physical height. I do confess though that I still prefer him to be tall, but I’ll read the story now even if he isn’t. Another thing I’m finding is that I love to read mainstream where there’s no romance at all, which is something I wouldn’t have considered ten years ago. It was romance or nothing.

 There’s no accounting taste I guess. Not everyone’s is the same. That’s why there’s room for all sorts of stories about a multitude of subjects and people. Variety is good. That way everyone can be happy and have what they prefer.

Maybe my age has something to do with my taste. As I get older my tastes in things change? I don’t know. That’s a deep subject. Could be true though. I just wonder if I’ll suddenly develop a craving for seafood? If I do, that’ll be a miracle. I’m not about to discount it with absolute certainty. And I wonder if at some point I’ll yearn for stories with seventy and eighty year old heroes and heroines?? Ha! Can’t imagine that now but who knows. Guess I’ll have to wait and see. 

What are your tastes and do you find that they’re changing or have already changed? Or what kind of books do you really like? I’d love to hear your comments.

I thought I would continue our trip west in 1848 this week. Our wagon trail left Independence on April 5th. We hope it will take less than six months, but more likely it will take seven or eight. Good thing we don’t know that yet.

You already know from previous blogs about the clothes necessary for the trip and about some of the maps available at the time. I thought this week we would consider the provisioning for the six to eight month trip.

The cost of the trip ran between six hundred and a thousand dollars, and many families saved years for the trip. This total included the wagon, mules or oxen and provisions, but did not include money needed along the way for additional provisions, ferries or for Indian guides.

Building a wagon and provisioning were major undertakings. According to “Women’s Diaries of the Westward Journey,” the overland wagon “had to be built of seasoned hardwood to withstand the extremes of temperature; an ordinary farm wagon was not strong enough. The classic prairie schooner was not the big-wheeled, boat-curved Conestoga wagon, but a smaller, lighter wagon with straight lines top and bottom.” Typically, emigrants used a farm wagon with a flat bed about ten feet wide with sides two feet high. It had to be amphibious and its slats caulked for river crossings. It should carry no more than 2,000 - 2,500 pounds. The covering of the wagon was a double thickness of canvas “as rainproofed as oiled linen or muslin, or sailcloth could be made to be.”

Foodstuffs were assembled at the start of the journey. “The Emigrants Guide to Oregon and California”, recommended that each emigrant supply himself with 200 pounds of flour, 150 pounds of bacon, 10 pounds of coffee, 20 pounds of sugar and 10 pounds of salt. Additional supplies included chipped beef, rice, tea, dried beans, dried fruit, baking soda, vinegar, pickles, mustard, and tallow. Butter may be preserved by boiling it thoroughly and skimming off the scum as it rises to the top until it is quite clear like oil. It is then placed in tin canisters and soldered up. Packed in this way, it keeps sweet for a great length of time.

If you think of a family of six, food stocks would nearly consume all the allowable weight. Then there would be needed spare parts for the wagon, tar and grease barrels, water barrels and spare parts for the wagon.

Think of that farm wagon again. After the provisions there is precious little room left for personal possessions, much less sleeping space for a family of five or six or nine.

The diet would hopefully be supplemented by wild game, and this was plentiful in the 1840’s, but as the number of trains multiplied along the Oregon Trail, some as large as 400 wagons, the game disappeared and the diet, well, the diet became rather spare.

Single women occasionally took the trek, though they were rare. The Women’s Diaries of the Westward Journey tells the story of Rebecca Ketchum of New York who decided she wanted to go to Oregon to become a teacher. She traveled by stagecoach, unaccompanied by anyone, from New York to Independence when she joined a group for the remainder of the way to Oregon.

Although a woman, but probably because she was single, she spent most of the trip on horseback with the men. The wives apparently did not consider her worthy of riding in the wagon with mothers and children. Ketchum’s account also illustrates at least one nineteenth-century woman’s clear sense of her own worth. When she accidently discovered that she was paying more than others for her place in the wagon train, she refused to do washing any more, since the men – who had paid less than she – were not expected to wash clothes.

And that leads me to my next blog when I’ll talk about love and marriage on the trail. Some facts might well surprise you.

Congratulations to Terry Stone for winning my random drawing in yesterday’s blog!

The word means: characterized by capricious, unstable, irresponsible or silly behavior.

Thanks for blogging with me yesterday. I enjoyed all of your great comments about WORDS!

I love words! It sounds strange, but I really do. When I write I get a thrill when the words flow from one to the another like a beautiful rhythmic song. I’ve read authors whose works are so musical that it’s a true and simple joy to read.

When I write my westerns, the words I use have to give the flavor of the time period without over doing. This is called the author’s voice.  Voice comes naturally for most of us, but sometimes we do need a little help.

The greatest resource  I’ve found is The Cowboy’s Dictionary - the Chin Jaw Words and Whing-Ding Ways of the American West, by Ramon F. Adams. This book is a compilation of vocabulary words and phrases from rodeo terminology, common words used by cowmen, sheepmen, the freighter, the packer, the western river-boatmen, the logger, the western gambler and the stagecoach driver.  I enjoy searching this dictionary and finding new terms and meanings that depict the joy and fondness I have for the American West.

 Here are just a few:

Alfalfa desperado - A cowboy’s name for a hay hand.

All horns and rattles - Said of someone displaying a fit of temper. A man in this mood, as one cowboy said, “maybe don’t say nothin’, but it ain’t safe to ask questions.”

Monkey Ward cowboy - A cowboy wearing a mail-order outfit and having little or no range experience.

Man for breakfast - A killing. This expression originated in frontier days when there were so many killings at night in the tough cow towns and mining camps that when the good citizens awoke the next morning they could see the body or bodies laid out before breakfast.

Hobble your lip - A cowboy’s advice to someone to quit talking so much.

Loggers and cowboy names for the cook:

Dough-belly

Dough-boxer

Dough-puncher

Dough roller

Dough wrangler

Sourdough

Hats:

Bonnet strings

Conk cover

Hair case

Hard-boiled hat

John B

Lid

Woolsey

War bonnet

In my upcoming release Bodine’s Bounty, there’s word that I’ve never heard before.  See if you can spot it?

A hard-bitten bounty hunter has no time for love…

Heiress Emma Marie Rourke is naive, innocent and very, very determined. She’ll find her outlaw fatherand make it as a singer.

Bodine—just Bodine—has promises to keep. And looking for some spoiled flibbertigibbet runaway isn’t top of his list. But, dammit, his conscience won’t let him rest until he finds her. And at least there’s a reward for retrieving her.

Protecting Emma isn’t the easy job he expects it to be. Bodine is startled when he can’t get his mind—or his hands—off Emma’s diminutive figure! He’s sworn to keep her safe—but who will save her from him?

No spoiled heiress will stand in his way!

Okay, so how many of you know the meaning of flibbertigibbet?  Honestly, I had to look it up! 

What western words or phrases do you love? Are there any you think are overused? Tarnation, I sure as anything would love to know!

Posters- Thanks for stopping by. I do value your comments, but a family emergency has taken me away today. 

I’m offering a 2 in 1 book in a random drawing today. I’ll pick the winner on Saturday, so please check back.  Win my contemporary Expecting the Cowboy’s Baby and Julianne Maclean’s Sleeping with the Playboy all in one! 

Be sure to enter the Big Fall Bonanza contest and visit me for my all new Win in Winter Contest.

Happy Trails and Happy Reading!

Two weeks ago we blogged about Calamity Jane.  Here, as promised, is a portrait of the man she claimed to be the love of her life—Wild Bill Hickock. Sadly, perhaps, Calamity is barely mentioned in sketches of Wild Bill’s life.  We can only guess that their fabled romance was either one-sided, on Calamity’s part, or mostly invented by the dime novel writers of the day—the same writers who transformed Wild Bill into an American legend. 

James Butler Hickock was born May 27, 1837 in Troy Grove, Illinois. In the years prior to the Civil War, he worked as a hunter, a muleskinner, a bodyguard and as a wagonmaster on the Santa Fe trail. At the outbreak of the Civil War, he became a civilian scout at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas.  Wild Bill’s legendary career began in 1861 when he was tending stock at a station for the Overland Stage.  When three men came to collect money owed them by the station’s owner, a fight broke out.  Bill and a fellow worker brutally killed the men who’d come to get their cash.  They were tried and acquitted on grounds of self defense.  Four years later, a writer would turn this incident into a heroic stand, with Bill holding off a gang of terrorists and receiving eleven bullet wounds in the process.  Similar encounters dogged Bill for the rest of his life.  He was a brave man, but reckless and prone to violence.  In many cases, his exploits were blown up to serve as fodder for the pulp fiction market of the day.  Bill swiftly became an American pop star.  Between 1867 and 1871 Wild Bill served variously as a lawman and army scout. Sometimes his tactics were too much for the townspeople.  In 1869 he was appointed sheriff of Ellis County, Kansas.  After killing two men he was voted out of office.  In 1871 he was appointed marshal of Abilene.  After a gunfight in which he accidentally shot and killed his own deputy, Wild Bill turned in his badge and began to drift.  For a time he toured with Buffalo Bill’s show, but he hated acting and left to become a professional gambler.In 1876 he returned to Cheyenne where he married Agnes Lake Thatcher, the owner of a circus.  From there he went to Deadwood, hoping to strike it rich in the gambling saloons.On August 2, 1876, he was playing poker when a drifter named Jack McCall shot him in the back of the head.  At the time he died, Wild Bill was holding two black aces, two black eights and the jack of diamonds—to be forever known as the “deadman’s hand.”  He was buried in Deadwood.  His famous Sharps rifle was buried with him. Many actors have played Wild Bill in films.  Who’s your favorite?  Which portrayal seems most accurate?  Who would you like to see play Bill in a movie about his life?