In 1880, when the cattle kings of the West reigned like, well, royalty, their wealth and desire for comradeship led to the formation of the only male-dominated social club west of Denver.  Formed by members of the Wyoming Stockgrowers Association, the club was initially named The Cactus Club, then later changed to The Cheyenne Club.  The founding members claimed degrees from Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Dartmouth, and Columbia, and all were frequently seen on the Riviera, in London, Paris and Mexico City.

I have to tell you.  I had no idea.  I stumbled upon The Cheyenne Club while researching WYOMING WILDFLOWER, my first book with Dorchester, now re-released as an ebook and currently my best-selling self-published title.  Once I discovered this fascinating piece of Western history, I fell in love with the place.  I centered my storyline around the historic icon and the men that once walked upon its thick carpets. 

The Cheyenne Club shattered my illusion of weather-bitten cattlemen who lived on remote ranches and lived simple lives, enduring each day only for the precious cattle that grazed across acres as far as the eye could see.  These men knew what comforts their money could bring, and they didn’t hesitate to spend whatever it took to wallow in that comfort.

Let me tell you a bit about it.

The three story brick building was built on the corner of what is now 17th and Warren in Cheyenne.   A skylight towered over the main hall.  The Main Floor boasted rooms for smoking, billiards, reading, games, as well as the prominent dining room.  All had hardwood floors.   Copies of the Atlantic Monthly, Harper’s, the Boston Sunday Herald, and the New York Graphic laid on the library’s tables, alongside the Drover’s Journal of Chicago.

The kitchen and wine cellar were located in the basement, and three elevators hoisted hot cuisine prepared by a Canadian chef up to the dining room.  Champagne was served at breakfast, lunch and dinner.   Rugs graced fireplaces with attractives grates and marble-topped mantels.  Shakespearan quotations were inscribed in the blue-and-white, and brown-and-white tiles to “supply cheerfulness” to the guests.  

Six sleeping rooms comprised the upper level.  Each room had thick carpets and were furnished with ceiling-high walnut wardrobes and hand-carved walnut beds.  Marbled covered the dressers and commodes.  Brocade satin and velvet drapes hung at the tall windows.  A lavish bath added to the guests’ comforts.

Another opulent feature of The Cheyenne Club was the piazza, flanked by Victorian French Windows.  Up to 26 arm rockers lined the area, large enough to be used as a dance floor.  Often on sunny days, chess tables were set-up for those wishing to enjoy an afternoon’s game.  Photographs of members’ horses and racing trophies adorned the walls of the Club.  A tennis court was located to the west of the club house, and a brick servants cottage was located to the north of it. 

Club functions required dress suits and evening gowns.  Perfectly trained staff served liquors and delicacies shipped from New York City and San Francisco, as well as providing cigars and cheroots for those with a discriminating taste for fine tobacco.   All this opulence from a club house that towered on a corner lined with dirt streets. 

Alas, the blizzards of 1886 and 1887 wiped out the herds of many of these cattle kings, and The Cheyenne Club slumped, never again to regain its glory.  In 1936, the club house was razed, and in its place, the present Chamber of Commerce and Frontier Days Committee building stands.  

Just makes you want to sigh, doesn’t it? 

You can read more about The Cheyenne Club in WYOMING WILDFLOWER.  Here’s a little blurb about the book:

One of her father’s daughters . . .

All Sonnie Mancuso wants is to be needed by her father. Unfortunately, he already has a daughter–six, to be exact–and all he needs is a son.

One of her father’s men . . .

Orphaned in the slums of New York, fifteen-year-old Lance Harmon needs a home. Sonnie’s father gives him one, on the cattle-rich Rocking M ranch. Through the years, Lance learns to love the land, the work . . . and Sonnie.

And their legacy . . .

But Vince Mancuso’s health is failing, and there’s trouble on the Wyoming range. Sonnie returns home to claim the legacy that’s rightfully hers . . . but learns Lance has already claimed it.

Buy Wyoming Wildflower for your Kindle!

 Although wives and female guests were allowed at The Cheyenne Club, membership was strictly male.  Do you know of any female-only clubs?  How do you feel about allowing women onto a male-dominated turf?  Or vice-versa? 

Rule #1 – I never write in first person.

Rule #2 – I never write from a child’s point of view.

Rule #3 – I always have romance somewhere in my stories.

 Well…one out of three ain’t bad.

 I threw Rule #1 out the window when I picked up my pen and started my latest release, Kane’s Redemption. I wrote Kane’s Redemption in first person. It’s the first work of fiction I’ve ever written from this perspective, and after I wrote it, I knew there would be two more of these novellas to follow. There was no better way to tell this story of young Will Green and Jacobi Kane – and the secret that stands between them. 

Will is a child when the story begins, but a young man by the conclusion. So, I guess you could say I broke my own “Rule #2” as well. But there are some stories that have to be told by the child, to take hold of the innocence that only a child possesses and manages to hold on to in the face of reality. Who could have told Scout’s story better than Scout, in To Kill a Mockingbird? No one. She was the perfect character to tell us what was happening and the perfect filter for us to see for ourselves those things she couldn’t put into words. Through her eyes, we saw everything. I knew that Will had to tell the story of what happened to him and how Jacobi Kane rescued him…and what happened afterward.

Growing up in the 1800’s on the prairie of the southwest would make an adult of you quickly; even quicker if you watched your entire family murdered in the space of five minutes. This story is not just about Will, though – it’s also about Jacobi Kane, who has some secrets of his own. Although he rescues Will, he wrestles with demons that can’t be fought alone – but how can Will help? In the end, who is the true rescuer – Will, or Jacobi Kane? 

Romance? Well, there’s a bit of that. But it’s the romance that comes with new beginnings and the kiss of forgiveness–sweet, touching and straight from the heart. Come to think of it, the romance in Kane’s Redemption is  a bit different from anything else I’ve ever written, too. 

This story came from somewhere deep; a place I didn’t know existed. It’s a gift I hope you will take as much pleasure in reading as I did in writing. 

Look for Book 2 in the Kane trilogy, Kane’s Promise, in the fall of 2012.

I will be giving away a copy of KANE’S REDEMPTION today! All you have to do is leave a comment, and please leave your e-mail address so I can contact you! I will leave you with the blurb and an excerpt. Hope you enjoy!

BLURB: 

A ten-year-old boy fights for his life when he is taken prisoner by a band of raiding Apache. Steeling himself for death, Will Green is shocked when a lone man walks into the Apache camp to rescue him several days later.

Driven by the secret he carries, Jacobi Kane has followed the Indians for days and needs to make his move to save the boy. With the odds stacked eight against one, his chances for success look pretty slim. But even if he’s able to rescue the boy and they get out alive, what then?

EXCERPT FROM KANE’S REDEMPTION: 

Red Eagle moved back just as fast as before and I felt my cheek burning. Blood dripped off his blade and that was it. I went after that red devil like I had lost my wits. I guess, truthfully, I had – because I don’t remember anything about it, except how good the first smash of my fist in his face felt. 

Blood ran from Red Eagle’s nose and he cried out in a snarl of anger and pain and surprise. 

I felt a pulse of energy rush through me, and I wrapped my fingers around his throat like he’d done to Mama. I tightened them and his blood streamed warm and slick over my grip. His eyes began to bulge, and I thought in another minute, maybe I could have the vengeance I had wanted so badly for the past week. 

Papa always said a man’s quick wits are sometimes his only defense. I was exultant. I may have been foolish for what I did, and I felt sure Papa and I would disagree sharply on the use of my wits. But I did what I had to do.

Suddenly, rough hands were upon me, pulling at me. But I was like a mad dog, snarling, and foaming at the mouth in my pent up anger and hatred that was finally spilling out. What a glorious opportunity! Even if I died for it, I knew I couldn’t have passed it up – whether Papa might have approved, or not. 

The Indians were all speaking at once, yelling, calling out, laughing. The moon was full, providing even more light than what the fire gave, making the night seem even hotter, as if the sun still shone on us. From somewhere in the distance of the woods beyond, I heard the call of the owls, and I knew enough Injun to know what that meant to them. 

Someone was going to die. It might be me, but I was doing my damnedest to take Red Eagle with me. 

A gunshot split the night air. “Dammit, stop it!” Hands like steel bands wrapped around my shoulders and jerked me off of Red Eagle. “Stop it!” 

I couldn’t answer. I was breathing too hard, panting like the mad dog I had become. My hands balled into fists and flexed open again and again, and my fingers were sticky with Red Eagle’s blood. My own pulse sang through my veins in a triumph I had never experienced before. 

“Boy, straighten up or you’re gonna get us both killed.” The voice was calm. I stopped struggling and looked up into the face of a white man. A white man had walked right into Red Eagle’s camp. I figured, now, those owls would have plenty more to tell – at least one more death. 

But he didn’t seem worried. He held his rifle at the ready, pointed in the general direction of the group of eight Indians that rode in Red Eagle’s band. I glanced around the half-circle of painted faces, and I couldn’t help gloating. They all looked as if they’d met up with some kind of spirit or demon more wicked than they were. And that was going some. 

“Can you ride bareback?” 

I nodded. I guessed I could, I wanted to tell him. Been doin’ it for a damn week. 

“Need help getting on?” 

I shook my head and he let me go real slow. “Pick the one you can manage best and get settled on him. Take Red Eagle’s rifle and bullets.” 

“Wait!” Red Eagle challenged. He rolled onto his side, wiping the blood from his nose. It pleased me greatly to hear that he wheezed when he spoke. “You take our horses, our weapons—” 

“I ain’t takin’ your lives, you bastard. And I ain’t takin’ all your weapons,” the big man answered in a slow drawl. “Only yours. Pitch that knife over this way, and do it easy. My trigger finger is mighty nervous tonight.”

For KANE’S REDEMPTION and all my other work, click here:

I’d like to thank Petticoats and Pistols for having me as a guest today.

Though I only have two to my credit, I love writing Western historicals. I’ve written seventeenth century pirates, Regency dukes and Victorian gentlemen, but I have to admit to having a soft spot for my Western novels.

The fun thing about writing a romance set in the nineteenth century American west is that people ended up going west for a variety of reasons. Maybe they were looking for gold or working for the railroad or hungering for land of their own. Or maybe they were looking to get away from the past. Anything is possible. Anyone could become anything out west, no matter who they were before. And that simple truth opens up trails to innumerable secrets and stories.

Jack Donovan, the hero of my February release DONOVAN’S BED (Samhain Retro Romance), is a man with a secret. He’s traveled all over the west as a bounty hunter. Then a job went bad and he realized he needed a new life. So he took all the money he’d earned over the years and moved to a tiny town where he could start over, intending to keep his former life a secret. But Sarah Calhoun, the heroine, runs the town newspaper, and she smells a rat. She’s determined to uncover the truth about Donovan. After he insults her, she prints a story in the newspaper that the rich rancher is looking for a wife. The article backfires, and the ensuing flood of women on the small town of Burr opens up some fun chaos!

While it hardly compares to modern day, social rules for women out west seemed a little less strict than back east. Western living was hard, and a woman had to be just as tough, doing whatever needed to be done to get by. Women in the west had to worry about survival and had no time for frivolous nonsense. However, they were still expected to be virtuous and God fearing, whether married or single. Prostitution was still frowned upon, and unmarried girls were expected to retain their virtue until marriage. Most women in the west did intend to eventually marry, but until that day came, they could take on jobs and vocations that had been, until then, traditionally men’s.

A great example of this is Wyoming Territory, where DONOVAN’S BED takes place. Women were granted the right to vote in 1869 in Wyoming Territory. By 1882, when my story occurs, Wyoming was already allowing women to serve on juries and even had a female Justice of the Peace. Because of all this, it was easy to make my heroine the independent woman I needed her to be in order to boldly print the story about Jack Donovan’s search for a wife. The town accepted her doing that without much social punishment (though it certainly gave rise to gossip). It would have been much harder setting that story in an eastern state in the same year, as social mores were a bit stricter. A male editor might have refused to print or even read the story. But since I was in Wyoming Territory, where women’s rights had an early start, I could make it work.

I loved writing the town of Burr with all its quirky citizens. I’m giving away a copy of DONOVAN’S BED (electronic only) to one lucky commenter. An excerpt of the book is available here:
http://store.samhainpublishing.com/donovans-bed-p-6735.html

My debut novel, PRAIRIE BRIDE was set in a sod house on the Kansas prairies.  It was a Harlequin Historicals release in the year 2000.  But even before that – back in 1995 – I wrote a time-travel romance where a contemporary heroine gets caught in a lightning storm and is transported back to the Old West.  Not long after she arrives, she falls for the ruggedly handsome gunslinging sheriff, who quickly becomes her hero and protector against a band of dangerous outlaws.

I gave it the title JUNEBUG JESS.  It won some writing contests and garnered a few requests for the complete manuscript from publishers who read the proposal, but by the time I was shopping it around, time travels were no longer considered marketable, so it never sold. And hey, I was a newbie unpublished author, and it was tough to break in.  I didn’t give up, however.  I wrote five novels over a period of six years before I finally sold PRAIRIE BRIDE to Harlequin.

Now here we are, seventeen novels later, and authors have the option of publishing independently.  Last summer I had a short break while my agent was negotiating a new contract with my publisher, so I decided to dig JUNEBUG JESS out of my old rejection pile and take a look at it.  Would it still hold up?  Would the writing be atrocious?  To my utter delight, the plot line was fresh and fun, the characters were interesting, and the writing was… well, not too bad.

I could see that the prose needed some polish, so I began an intensive rewrite to bring it up to speed to match my voice today.  Also, cell phones and laptops were not part of daily life when I originally wrote it, so the technology needed an upgrade.  The heroine’s outfit was more than a little outdated, so all that had to be changed.

I gave it a sexier title, TAKEN BY THE COWBOY, and a splashy cover inspired by the Cowboys and Aliens movie poster (scroll down for a peek at it), and now I’m wildly happy to see it out there at last for readers to enjoy!  This one was a long time coming . 

Now here’s the good news and the fun part.

For those of you who are reading the blog today Feb 4 – the ebook edition of TAKEN BY THE COWBOY is on sale at Amazon for 99 cents for a limited time. Hurry and grab it for your Kindle and please share the link with your Facebook and Twitter friends!

Lastly – I’m going to give away a $25 gift card to Amazon or B&N (winner’s choice) to one commenter.  All you have to do is tell me the name of your favorite western romance novel of all time (or the top 3 if you can’t narrow it down).

HERO AND PROTECTOR

Former bounty hunter, expert gunslinger, and the toughest sheriff Dodge City has ever known, Truman Wade is a real man from the tip of his black Stetson right down to his spurs and leather boots. He’s never met his match in a gunfight, but he’s never met a gorgeous, gutsy woman from the twenty-first century either…

TORN BETWEEN TWO WORLDS

Newly single after a rocky breakup with her self-absorbed fiancé, newspaper columnist Jessica Delaney crashes her car in a lightning storm and soon finds herself dodging bullets in the Wild West. Before the night is out, she’s tossed in jail for a murder she didn’t commit, and if things don’t seem complicated enough, the impossibly handsome sheriff in charge of her arrest has danger written all over him – and a sexy swagger to die for. Jessica knows she needs to get home, but when Sheriff Wade’s enticing touch sets her passions on fire, she begins to wonder if fate has other plans for her, and soon she must choose between the life she longs for in the future… and the greatest love she’s ever known.

Wildflowers is the first in the Sisters at Heart series and is set in Missouri shortly after the end of the War Between the States. When I worked up the proposal for this series, I had my characters and their occupations set in my mind. I planned that one of the characters, Rosemary Saxon, would be a nurse during the war, and then would follow the same occupation afterward. 

Well, surprise, surprise. When I began to research nurses in the Civil War, I learned that very few of them were women, and the ones who were female were generally older and/or widows. For a young unmarried woman to touch men’s bodies, even to tend to wounds, was considered vulgar. Throughout the war, male nurses outnumbered female nurses 4 to 1. The general public believed women would only be a nuisance and get in the way of the doctors.

Where female nurses were allowed, they were required to be plain-looking women. Their dresses were to be brown or black, no bows, no curls, no jewelry, and no hoop-skirts. The last prohibition made sense, since the hospital aisles were narrow. 

So, where did this leave Rosemary, who was to be a continuing character in the series? Using my artistic license, she’s attractive, not plain, but I did make her “old.” She’s twenty-seven. J In addition to her God-given gift of mercy, she’s also determined to the point of being headstrong. She needs to be to stand up to the prejudice she encounters.

In Where Wildflowers Bloom, Rosemary is the best friend of the story’s protagonist, Faith Lindberg. Oh, and did I mention Rosemary has a brother, Curt? How many of us remember having girlfriends with handsome brothers? I’ll just say that through Rosemary, Faith and Curt end up spending quite a bit of time together.

So, like Rosemary, have any of you taken a job in what is considered a man’s field? Did you encounter prejudice? On a more romantic note, did any of you ever fall in love with the brother of your best friend? How did it work out?

 I hope you’ll look for Where Wildflowers Bloom at your local bookstore, or through an online retailer. Please visit my website at www.annshorey.com for more information about Where Wildflowers Bloom, as well as my other books.

Where Wildflowers Bloom

How far will she go to follow her dreams?

 The War Between the States stole a father and brother from Faith Lindberg—as well as Royal Baxter, the man she wanted to marry. With only her grandfather left, she dreams of leaving Noble Springs, Missouri, and traveling west to Oregon to start a new life, away from the memories that haunt her. But first she must convince her grandfather to sell the family’s mercantile and leave a town their family has called home for generations.

When Royal Baxter suddenly returns, Faith allows herself to hope that she and Royal will finally wed. But does he truly love her? Or will another man claim her heart?

Ann has graciously agreed to give away a copy of Where Wildflowers Bloom today, so be sure to leave a comment in order to be entered in the drawing!