Today, September 25, is my birthday.  I’m older than dirt, but that’s not what this post is about.  It’s about celebration—and challenge.   Every year, on or around my birthday, I try to do something a little crazy.  Once I took a flying lesson.  Another time I rafted the Grand Canyon.  Last year I went to Peru.  Some years find me at home.  Even then I celebrate—I  climb the mountain. 

Mt. Timpanogos (from a Paiute word meaning rocky river) is 30 miles south of my home.  Its spectacular summit rises to 11,749 feet.  The climb isn’t a technical one.  But it’s long and exhausting, about six hours to the top and three or four hours down.  For me and my family it’s become a September ritual. 

The trailhead starts at about 7,000 feet .  To say that the scenery is breathtaking is an understatement.  The trail zigzags upward through a series of hanging valleys.  In the summer there are wildflowers, in the fall the blaze of turning aspen and maple.  We usually see deer and moose.  Higher up in the rockslides we can watch the hay-gathering antics of little picas. 

Below the crags that mark the top, the land spreads out into a wide Alpine basin.  In July and August, when it’s filled with flowers, it looks a lot like the cover of my November book, THE BORROWED BRIDE.  In September the flowers are gone, but the hills are cloaked in hues of bronze and gold. 

The climb from there to the top is short but grueling.  The first stop is the “saddle,” a spot about the size of a bus (far right in photo), where you’re on the skyline but not the highest peak.  From there the trail zigzags across a sheer rock face to the summit.  It’s easy to get lightheaded at that altitude.  If you fall—and people have—they go looking for you with a body bag.  I did the full summit on my 50^th birthday with my daughter and sister.  With my mild fear of heights, it scared the living daylights out of me.  At the top there’s this little metal hut.  I lay down on the floor and shook.  These days I just go to the saddle.  Once is enough. 

I was hoping to have done this year’s climb in time to write this blog.  But last weekend’s weather was iffy, and Timpanogos is no place to be caught in a storm.  The weather is looking better for Sunday, so I plan to go with my son’s family and maybe a friend or two.  I’ll let you know if we made it. 

How about you?  How do you feel about birthdays?  Do you have a special way of celebrating?

Click on one of the small books below to go to Amazon.com. 

 

       

 

 

 

 

My husband and I have lived a lot of beautiful places.  I grew up in the Midwest and loved the redbud trees and soft dogwoods.  We moved to Kentucky which has gorgeous yellow narcissus and mimosas.

 

Savannah in the spring is gorgeous with the azaleas, then the crepe myrtles, but it wasn’t until we moved to the Hill Country of central Texas that I realized how lovely spring can be.

 

Texas is an amazing state.  As the commercial says, it’s like a whole other country with mountains (not very high ones but mountains still) and deserts, the piney woods of East Texas, and the coastal plains on the Gulf.

 

But it’s the Hill Country I love.  Scattered through the area are the Highland Lakes, made when the Colorado River was dammed nearly one hundred years ago.  Surrounding that are the most beautiful fields of wild flowers that bloom every spring.

 

All this glory starts with the blue bonnets which come up close to Easter.  By mid-March, everyone competes to be the first to find a patch.  As March melts into April, the fields on each side of Old Spanish Trail are covered with the bluish-purple haze that is the beginning of spring and the wildflower season. 

 

Because of the beauty of the Hill Country—from the blue bonnets to the Mexican blanket and other wild flowers followed by the blossoming and blooming of the prickly-pear cactus– small town Central Texas is a marvelous place to live, especially for those of us who can’t raise flowers on our own.  God provides them in abundance..

 

That’s why I placed the mythical town of Silver Lake, TX, right in the middle of the Hill Country.  That’s the setting for my September release, DEEP IN THE HEART.

 

When Kate Wallace comes home after an absence of nearly fifteen years, she falls in love with the beauty of her hometown.  Although she’s lived in New York, Houston, and Miami, she discovers to her amazement that she wants to stay in Silver Lake. 

 

Her old boyfriend Rob Chambers is used to the beauty of their hometown.  After she left, his heart mended.  He married and had a darling daughter.  Then his wife died and, for him, the blue bonnets didn’t bloom again.

 

As I was writing DEEP IN THE HEART, I decided I had tell all my readers how beautiful spring in the Hill Country is.  I used the changing wildflowers to show the passage of time.  Kate comes back to Silver Lake as the blue bonnets begin to show.  The changes in her life take place against the background of the cyclical beauty of nature.  I had to spend a lot of time researching the wildflowers.  I have a shelf of books and a dear friend who helped me greatly. 

 

DEEP IN THE HEART is all about change.  Through the book,  Kate is happy she came home,  She becomes a small town girl and finds her faith again.  She attempts to reconcile with her difficult sister and helps her lonely niece to find friends.

 

Rob has to learn to grieve for his wife and trust the woman who left him.

And nature reflects those changes.  The cycles of life match the cycles in nature.

 

I’ve mentioned a few places we’ve lived that I found very beautiful.  What is the most beautiful place you’ve lived or visited?  Why?  What did or do you find so lovely?

 

I’ll have a drawing for one person who posts their answer.  The winner will receive an autographed copy of DEEP IN THE HEART.  If you visit my web site janemyersperrine.com, I’ll have an additional Texas prize for one of you.

 Order Jane’s book from amazon!

                    Charlene Sands                                 

I think Cheryl St. John called what I have  ”Wedding Brain” and she’s absolutely right!  As some of you know my daughter is getting married next month and I’ve been in wedding mode for months now.  It’s hard to focus on much of anything else, so when it came time to blog, I figured what better topic than marriage and mail-ordered or picture brides of the West!

I’ve always wanted to write a mail-order bride story, but I knew I wanted it to be more than the usual.  In RENEGADE WIFE, I conceived a plot where both bride and groom didn’t want the marriage.  It had been the brainchild of the Kane Jackson’s grandfather wanting to see his long lost grandson, who’d been raised by the Cheyenne , settle down and marry.  My heroine, Molly needed passage out west to search for her younger brother who had run away.  I have to say it was a fun story to write, and I learned quite a bit about picture brides and mail-ordered brides from that research.

One way for men to meet women was from subscriptions to heart and hand clubs.  Newspapers and periodicals would post information about women, sometimes with photos or tintype images and the men would write to these women, often time convincing them to move out west.  If the woman agreed, the man was responsible to send railroad passage and they would meet and marry before they really got any chance to know one another.

A risky proposition for a female, I would think.

Some men found their wives from pictures of their friends’ relatives. For instance, if a man saw a picture of his friend’s cousin or sister, he might offer her marriage.  Culture played a part in which men considered marrying these Picture Brides.  Asian and Greek men who wanted to marry within their culture often married this way. Others might just find an appealing picture of a women, regardless of their background and offer her marriage.

In 1849 Eliza W. Farnham developed the California Association of American Women, to encourage women to travel to California to meet and marry men. Unfortunately, her endeavors didn’t meet with much success. Only two women accompanied her to the west coast.

I guess the west held little appeal for women at the time. More than 3/5 of the adult Caucasian population of California were male. Four out of every five of those men were bachelors.

Asa Mercer organized two successful trips to Washington that brought more than one hundred women to the region and he married one of those women himself.

The pledge a man made to a woman through letters and wires were held in high regard.  If a man failed to follow through on his intentions, often they paid the consequences.  Here’s a few examples from Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper:

Broken love pledges are rising in value, and if juries continue to look upon the matter in the light they do at present, faithless lovers will cease to exist.  Miss Francis Hobson of Cincinnati, recently received $3,300.00 from Asa H. Cone for breech of promise.

The daughter of a well-known commission merchant of Chicago has initiated a suite against a prominent physician for breech of promise of marriage - damages $25,000.   Another young lady in Chardon, Wisconsin has just received a healing plaster for her broken heart in the shape of a verdict of $10,000 damages against the gay deceiver.

And I love this one, so I’m including it because its fodder for a great romance ending!

In Texas men in love are justified in stealing horses.  A jury in Texas lately acquitted a man on the charge of horse stealing, although the crime was clearly proven against him, simply because he stole the horse to elope with his sweetheart, who was present in the court during the trial and waiting to marry him if acquitted.

Do you like to read Male-Ordered Bride stories?  And do you think you’d have taken a man up on his offer of home and hearth?  Do you have that adventurous spirit, marrying a man sight unseen?  Post a comment to be entered for a random drawing to win a copy of my out of print, hard to find, Renegade Wife!

And our Contest is coming to a close soon. Check back often to see if you’re our Grand Prize Winner!

 

Click on the book cover to purchase.

www.charlenesands.com

I’m delighted to be a guest at Petticoats and Pistols, hobnobbing with you wonderful historical authors and fans.

 

I’m more a petticoat than pistol type. Though if it counts, I fired a real rifle once. One of my two brothers talked me into it. We lived in the country with few neighbors so if one brother was off somewhere, the other coaxed me into one boyish thing or another. Perhaps they got their daily ego boost beating me at arm wrestling or HORSE—you know, where you shoot the basketball from the spot the last shot was made and acquire a letter for each miss. I actually got fairly good making baskets in foul shot range. I’m not complaining. I had fun spending time away from my girlish pursuits. Having two brothers had other rewards. I had my own room. No one played with my dolls. And I never wore hand-me-downs. If you have siblings who made your life… well, interesting, take this chance to tattle. J

 

My childhood petticoat was a crinoline, stiff layers of netting with weak elastic that would slip below my skirt, always at the worst possible moment, of course. In an emergency a safety pin at the waist kept the crinoline up. But if the bulk proved too much and that pin sprung open— Ouch! Not a fun memory. Except for failed pins, a crinoline wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as the corset my heroines wear. I’ve never tried one on, but I’d like to see if that instrument of torture could mold me into an hour-glass figure. J    

 

My experience with petticoats and pistols may be limited, but I’m hooked on history. I write Americana rather than Westerns, but I’ve always loved historical novels. I fell for several of those rugged, oh, so handsome cowboys on TV with their swaggers, spurs and Stetsons: Little Joe Cartwright, Maverick, Wyatt Earp and Cheyenne. Anyone crazy about a cowboy or two? Fictional or the real life variety?

 

I didn’t marry a cowboy. My husband is a number guy who rounds up spreadsheets instead of cattle. Still his smile and baby blues make my day. He and I don’t think alike, which probably explains our happy marriage. J He listens to my plots and I listen to a replay of his golf game. While we were dating, I told him I’d write books one day. He may have had visions of dollar signs—LOL—but whatever the reason for his support, he’s always encouraged me.        

 

I achieved my dream of writing inspirational historical romances when I sold my first book to Steeple Hill in 2006. I took a newspaper clipping about the orphan train my father sent me, and from the research on the topic created a book, which became Courting Miss Adelaide, Love Inspired Historical, releasing September 9. The history behind the orphan trains fascinates me. Between the years of 1853 and 1929, 250,000-350,000 orphans or half orphans rode trains from New York City to new homes. What an amazing life change for these immigrant children, and for the people who took them in!

 

The idea to place out orphans originated with a Methodist minister, Charles Loring Brace, founder of The Children’s Aid Society. Brace saw children working in sweatshops, peddling newspapers and living on the streets in abject poverty. He decided relocating these children to homes in agricultural areas would give them a chance for a better life. For some, it did. Others lived more like indentured servants than members of a family. If you’re interested in reading more about their stories, visit: http://www.orphantraindepot.com/index.html   

 

I immediately wanted to use this slice of history in a book. My “what if” moment became the kernel for Adelaide’s story in Courting Miss Adelaide—what if a lonely spinster wanted a child and saw the orphan train as her last chance for motherhood?

 

I’m thrilled that the sequel Courting the Doctor’s Daughter will release in May 2009.

 

We fiction writers tend to glamorize the past. But we know the “good ole days” had their downside, like no dishwashers or carryout food or automobiles to get us where we want to go. It’s far easier to travel into the past sitting at my computer or reading a wonderful book, than facing the rigors of the trail or the restrictions 19^th Century society placed on women. But countless men and women met the challenge of their times. Their courage so impresses me that I want to tell their stories.  

 

My father and grandfather were storytellers, relating anecdotes about real-life men and women and the world they lived in. My mother created beautiful quilts, using age-old patterns, piecing and quilting each by hand. Perhaps that heritage fostered my love of history and my desire to create. Whatever the reason, at twelve, I wrote and illustrated little romances. But it wasn’t until our daughters were grown that I seriously pursued my dream. It took me nine years to sell my first book, years of rejection and occasional elation. Not the Oregon Trail, but a rugged road nevertheless.  

 

An ideal writing day starts with me at the computer around 10:00. I’ve visited a group blog I’m part of, Seekerville at www.Seekerville.blogspot.com), had my devotions, read and answered e-mail. I’m dressed with my face on and hair combed. I’ve learned the hard way that writing in my jammies doesn’t pay. I write until four, stopping for lunch or if pushing to meet a deadline, I eat at the computer. The board of health might close me down if they knew how many crumbs are caught in that keyboard. J Around 4:00 I head to Curves to exercise. I’m back at 5:00, do e-mail and check blogs. By 6:00, I start dinner. If weather permits, my husband grills. After I tidy the kitchen, I return to my computer to look at… you guessed it, e-mail. I’m seeing a pattern here. J Around 8:00 my husband and I take a walk. If on deadline, I’ll skip e-mail and exercise to write all evening.

 

When I’m not writing or reading, I relax rubber stamping greeting cards. I play at golf or perhaps it’s more accurate to say it plays me. I also collect antiques. Our ancestors didn’t live in a throw away society and I feel compelled to preserve what family members cherished. A wooden pitchfork, Squire’s desk, copper apple butter kettle and lithographed wedding certificates are just a few of the family pieces nestled among our contemporary furnishings. I’ve collected everything from pattern glass to lady head vases. The latter aren’t antiques but hold a charm for me.  

 

My husband and I love to travel. I especially enjoy visiting historic spots of interest. This summer we stopped at a recreated fort like the one built by the Lewis and Clark and his men. On the Pacific at Seaside, OR we walked to the spot where a few of Lewis and Clark’s men boiled sea water around the clock in order to get the salt needed for the expeditions return to St. Louis. Lighthouses fascinate me,so we visited several all along the coast. These men and their families lived a solitary life. Anyone care to talk about a visit to a fascinating historic site?

 

But above all the things I enjoy doing, my favorite activity is spending time with our children, grandchildren and extended family. Maybe one day I’ll get back at my brothers with a water pistol or cap gun, so stay alert guys. Your sister may best you yet.

 

Visit Janet online at:

www.janetdean.net

www.janetdean.blogspot.com

Email her at:janet@janetdean.net

 

I will enter those leaving a comment in a drawing for a copy of Courting Miss Adelaide.

 Order Janet’s book from amazon!

  I am just standing around — Minding my own business

And suddenly

My face. My name.

My bookcover.

I’m a speaker at Husker Harvest Days.

http://www.huskerharvestdays.com/

 Uh…what is (are?) Husker Harvest Days?

 Well, there’s actual corn. They actually harvest it. With combines and tractors and there’s irrigation equipment and ATVs. It’s a demonstration of what’s coolest and newest and best in farm equipment.

A trade show. For farmers and ranchers.

Estimated attendance? Oh……..

I love writing. Duh, I’m a writer. I have been told that, in writing, I appear to be quite amusing and confident and even (on a good and lucky day) skilled at expressing myself with the written work. 

But ummmmmmmmmm Public speaking?

Not so much.

My daughter was on the Speech Team in High School. She had a T-shirt that said:

We do for fun……….

What most people fear more than death.

This comes from a survey done listing people’s top ten fears.

1. Public Speaking

2. Death

I completely get this. I HATE public speaking. I am no good at it. And here’s the real reason I hate public speaking…because it drives me crazy before and after I speak…for YEARS.

Not DURING so much…or at least the DURING is over quickly. Before and after I am HAUNTED.

Twenty-seven years from now…sitting in a nursing home…I’ll have a sleepless night…and I’ll lay there and think, “Why did I make that stupid lame joke at Husker Harvest Days in 2008? Why? Why? Why?

So anyway, I’m speaking at Husker Harvest Days next week. I know this because it appeared in Nebraska Farmer Magazine.

http://magissues.farmprogress.com/HHD/HH09Sep08/hhd016.pdf

(If you go to this link, you’ll see that YEP, there I am. There’s my book cover. YIKES) It also says what I’m gonna talk about. That’s good because I had no idea. I looked at what I’m supposed to talk about. Okay, I can talk about that stuff. I made notes.

I knew I was invited to go. I knew I had a booth. I even knew I’d have a turn ‘presenting’ something. I visualized about one hundred people all doing this ‘presenting’ at the same time…kinda Home Shopping Network Rural Nebraska style. Honestly I didn’t visualize it at all because if I start visualizing I kick off the pre-public speaking instant replay-worst case scenario-obsessive compulsive-insomnia-madness. So, because I have raised denial to an artform, I hadn’t given it much thought and had no idea what to expect, I’ve never been to Husker Harvest Days before.

Then The Nebraska Farmer Magazine comes out with my book cover and me…along with FIVE OTHERS…only five. What about one hundred? Where’d they all go? I mean sure, I only made that number up in my head, but still………..

Five of us giving daily presentations. I get the 1 – 2 p.m. hour.

An HOUR? I can’t talk for an hour?

I am so DOOMED.

I believe it is fair to say I have a God given gift for the written word.

Getting up in front of a crowd to speak.

Not so much.

So, anybody here like to give speeches?

Anybody ever embarrass themselves in front of a crowd?

I’m trying to be light-hearted about this, but honestly I’m just sick to my stomach. I am terrified. A little weepy. I may possibly be having a heart attack. But probably not. I’ve lived quite a while and I’m not all that lucky. So no reason to hope I’ll get lucky now and end up in an ICU until Husker Harvest Days are over

Consider for a moment your average sit-com.

About ten times a season they run a script of the main character being humiliated in front of a room full of people. There’s a reason for this.

EVERYBODY RELATES. EVERYBODY FEELS THE PAIN.

It’s my turn. Next week. At Husker Harvest Days.

If I survive, you may hear how it went.

Or not, I’m working on the other end of denial, forgetting it after it happens.

          FYI, that picture right there on the left? A Corn Husker. A weird leather and metal device strapped on the hand of a person who is husking corn. There’s a contest, fastest corn husker. There is also a display of combines. Prices run around $200,000. The newer, flashier Corn Husker.

 

                                                                       

click to purchase

 

Recently I was researching the aftershave that was used by barbers in the West for a story I’m working on and ran across a ton of interesting things.

Of course, I already knew that barbers used a soap cake that was round and hard. They put it in a mug, added some water, and whipped it into a lather with a brush. I watched my daddy do the same thing in the 50’s and apply the lathery cream to his face with a soft bristle brush. And I can’t think of Old Spice aftershave today without him coming to mind. As a little girl I loved the smell of Old Spice. I related that smell to love and a feeling of security.

In the West the most common aftershave was probably Bay Rum. Other than that, maybe simple lilac water. I couldn’t find a lot of references to the different types. I’m sure it depended on what part of the country the barber shop was in and what was available. And I think the barber might’ve made his own most of the time. It was easy to soak bay or mint leaves in rum, water and oils and let it sit for a few weeks or so.

Then one thing led to another in my research. You know how it goes.

Before long I was deep in the history of the perfumes. The very first form of perfumes was about 4,000 years ago in the form of incense. Shortly after, ancient cultures began soaking fragrant woods and resins in water or oil and rubbed the liquid on their bodies. Perfumes were also used by the Egyptians in the embalming process.

By the way, did you know that the pharaohs, queens, and wealthy Egyptians took several baths a day? They liked cleanliness I guess.

France quickly became the European center of the perfume industry and they took it to another level. Perfumes were needed to mask body odors resulting from the lack of hygiene practices of the day. In the 18th century, King Louis XV demanded a different fragrance for his apartment every day. Napoleon had two quarts of violet cologne delivered to him each week and it’s reported that he used 60 bottles of double extract of jasmine every month. I wonder if he drank the stuff. That’s a heck of a lot! Josephine had stronger perfume preferences. Musk was her choice and she used it so heavily that the scent lingered in her bedroom 60 years later. Can you imagine how that must’ve overwhelmed?

In the West, rose water was the preference of most women. It was very easy to make.

All it took was putting rose petals in a pot, covering with water and boiling until it reached the fragrant stage desired. Then it was strained and put into some type of container with an airtight lid. Of course, if roses weren’t available, any type of flower worked. Women were resourceful in the West and learned to make do with anything. They also were known to dab household vanilla and other flavorings behind their ears.

When I was young, I had Blue Waltz perfume. Does anyone remember that? Five and dime stores sold it for around fifteen or twenty cents. I thought I was really grown up to have a bottle of Blue Waltz. It was sweet and floral and if memory serves it didn’t smell all that bad. Unless you used too much. Then it was awful.

In doing my research, I learned there were different classifications.

Single Floral - used only one type of flower
Floral Bouquet - used a combination of flowers
Ambery - came from animals (musks)
Woody - from trees like sandalwood and cedar
Leather - family of fragrances using honey, tobacco, wood, and wood tars to try to reproduce the smell of leather

Do you have a special perfume or cologne that you like and if so, what kind? Or is there a scent that reminds you of times past and holds pleasant memories?

Don’t forget our Sizzlin’ Stampede of Prizes Contest! It ends September 15th.

  Click on cover to order from Amazon.

CHARLENE SANDS 

Did you know that a horse can scream?

Did you know that horses were here before the 1500’s?

Did you know that wild horses are endangered?

 

Last week I spoke with my cousin, who owns a 12 horse stable in Las Vegas.  She boards horses, she owns horses, but she also adores horses.  She’s got the sweetest, most beautiful horses I’ve ever seen.  And while talking to her, she spoke about her newest endeavor, a line of clothes aimed at horse lovers around the world.  I asked her why she’s doing this and her passion came through on the telephone clearly and earnestly.  She lost her beloved horse last year and upon his death, she decided to give something back to the horse community.  A healthy portion of the proceeds from the new clothing line will be donated to the Return To Freedom foundation.

Return to Freedom:

The cornerstone of all Return to Freedom’s efforts rests in the management and philosophy of The American Wild Horse Sanctuary. The American Wild Horse Sanctuary provides a safe haven for wild horses, herds and burros who might otherwise be separated, slaughtered, abused, or left to roam without food or water. Here these animals can live out their lives in freedom. Simultaneously it creates an opportunity for people to directly experience part of America’s living heritage-the wild horse in its natural habitat.

 

Currently home to over 200 wild horses and burros, the American Wild Horse Sanctuary offers a number of unique conservation and preservation programs that include preserving natural herd groups, using non-hormonal birth control methods, and habitat preservation Preserving Natural Herd Groups

 

Horses are herd animals and thrive within their family groups. When separated from their herds, wild horses have been known to panic and sometimes even run themselves to death.  It’s their way of screaming.

This is sanctuary’s stipulation: When we take one horse-we take the entire family. AWHS may be the only sanctuary in the country with this mandate.

.

In April 2007, there was a federal court ruling that closed the doors on horse slaughter in the United States. Despite efforts by equine welfare organizations to take over care of the slaughter bound horses, most of them were re-routed to plants in Canada or Mexico. Amazingly, 28 horses that were inside the slaughter plant were given over to the Humane Society of the United States (HSUS) who worked to place all of them in permanent homes. These horses might be the only horses in history to make the terrifying journey into a horse slaughter plant and live to tell their story.

Return to Freedom offered to take in any wild or untamed horses, offering them a safe haven at their 300 acre sanctuary in California. The wild horse sanctuary promotes the use of Non-Hormonal Birth Control Methods to help manage the wild horse population while at the same time rescue horses who have been abused or are ready for the slaughter house.

One Miracle Rescue:

On Wednesday, April 18th, the sanctuary welcomed the “miracle horses” Ginger, Flicka & Scout to their new home. Each of these 3 mares ended up in an auction feedlot and were picked up by a  buyer in Utah. They traveled to Wyoming and then on to a slaughter plant in Illinois. These mares, all healthy and aged 3, 5 and 15, were a breath away from a grisly ending to their life on this earth. They were literally inside the plant when the judge handed down the decision.

Having survived the trauma of their journey to the slaughter plant and back, the mares are settling into their new surroundings. The two youngest are curious and eager when the staff approaches their paddock. Scout, a 15 year old paint mare, who was literally on the floor of the horse slaughter facility when a U.S. Federal Court ruling saved her life, is a little more cautious.

Thanks to the tireless efforts of everyone working to end horse slaughter in the United States, Scout and the other two mares are facing a happy ending at Return to Freedom.

Their mantra:

“There is no use trying,” said Alice, one can’t believe impossible things.”

“I dare say you haven’t had much practice”, said the Queen. “When I was your age, I always did it for a half hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”

- Lewis Carroll from Alice in Wonderland

 

 

 

The Cerbat Stallion:

The Mustangs from the Cerbat Mountain area of northwestern Arizona are some of the purest Spanish descendants in the United States. With less than 70 living in the wild, and very few in domestic breeding programs, he is a rare find. The handsome stallion named Ambrasador Amante (translated as Fiery Lover) had wandered off his range and managed to break into a neighboring ranch taking several mares back into the hills with him. The owner of the mares went through quite an ordeal to gather them back up. Since his capture, this stallion has been held in a government (BLM) corral for three years looking back at freedom and the high snow covered peaks that were once his home. Now the Cerbat stallion is a new resident at the sanctuary and plays a significant role in the conservancy’s Preservation Program.

Horses at Risk:

The US Government is considering the mass murder of thousands of wild horses. On June 30th, the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) at their Wild Horse and Burro Advisory Board meeting announced a proposal that involves the phasing out of long-term holding facilities where they house some 22,000 wild horses that they removed from the range. Though they can only find adoptive homes for some 2000-3000 wild horses each year, the BLM has continued for decades to remove horses by the tens of thousands. Faced with budget cuts and more horses than they can afford to care for, their “solution” to years of mis-management is to simply kill them. With additional round ups scheduled this year, up to 30,000 wild horses could face the bullet.

They Were Here Before:

Did you know that our wild horses are actually a re-introduced native wildlife species? Traditionally, horses were thought of as an exotic species that arrived on this continent for the first time with the Spanish in the 1500s. However, advances in molecular biology prove that the modern horse, Equus Caballus, actually evolved on this continent and migrated across the Bering Land Bridge. Though the horse disappeared on this continent between 11,000 and 13,000 years ago, when the Spanish brought horses back to North America they were simply returning home.

 

Return to Freedom have living history tours, clinics, youth programs, retreats and so much more than I can begin to name on this blog.  I urge you to take a peek at this fantastic organization, by clicking HERE.

 

How You Can Help:

While this isn’t a call for donations though they certainly welcome them, we can do something easy to aid this cause.  When you shop at Ralphs, register your card number at www.ralphs.com/ccprogram.htm and choose Return to Freedom with the number 90094 and a portion of your purchases will be donated to the Return to Freedom cause.   It’s that simple.  You can find details on their site for more ways to help!

 

Funny, but when I started writing this blog, it was informational only, until I perused their site for hours, learning more and more about what Return to Freedom does and how important it is.  Now, I find I’m as passionate as my cousin about helping to save these majestic animals.   Killing off herds isn’t the answer – the animals aren’t starving, they survive quite well on their own.  I’ve seen pictures of the wild mustangs in Red Rock Canyon where many roamed free.  My cousin got some amazing shots of those mustangs before they’d been taken out of the canyon. As a result, without the horses grazing the land keeping the brush down, the entire area caught fire recently.    

 

I love horses, and had grown up wanting to own one on my own.  That wasn’t in the cards for me, but I’ve always held great admiration and fascination for them.  These wild mustangs are as American as the cowboy.  In my story, Five-Star Cowboy, Trent secures wild horses to roam free on his property and when I wrote that book, I hadn’t a clue that he would do that.  I guess my love of horses came through, even before I learned about their plight.

 

Do you own horses?  How many of you have ridden a horse?  Do you find them as stunningly beautiful as I do?   I’d love to hear your horse stories. 

 

 

 

 

 Click to purchase. 

 

 

I am a compulsive re-reader of scenes.

Wow, the way I wrote it prompted me to think in terms of a twelve-step program.

Hi, my name is Mary and I re-read great scenes from books.

I suppose, of all the Obsessive Compulsive behavior in the world, this one doesn’t cause that much trouble. Unless you’re my husband and you want to thin the herd of books over running my shelves.

What I’m wondering is—does anyone else do this?

Is this a writer thing? Or have invented my very own addiction.

And should I try and get it named after me. Instead of AA, we’ll call it MCA.

Mary Connealy’s Anonymous. I’ll work on that. I want something catchy when I approach the American Psychiatric Association.

I think it might be a writer thing, but maybe not.

I’ve got this huge stack of books I love. Combine that with my chronic insomnia, made far, far worse if I’m reading a book that really catches me…a NEW book…late in the evening, I pick up books I’ve read before and skim through re-reading favorite scenes.

The seventh chapter of Breathing Room by Susan Elizabeth Phillips when Ren is dressed up like a priest and he and Isabel takes turns congenially insulting each other in the Italian sun.

 The scene in The Bride by Julie Garwood when the English Maiden Jamie doctors Angus when he’s been given up for dead and wins the loyalty and love of her new clan. ‘She started four wars the first week.’

 The scene in MacKenzie’s Pleasure by Linda Howard where Zane is furious because two of his Navy SEALs were shot in a training exercise. ’The captain was unhappy.’

The scene in Boo Hiss by Rene Gutteridge when Dustin says to be on the look-out for his escaped two-headed boa constrictor named Bob and Fred. -I had to lay the book down I was laughing so hard.

The scene in The Doctor’s Wife by Cheryl St. John when Caleb takes Ellie to meet her child. (yes, I’ve got Fillies in my collection)

The scene in Midnight at Ruby Bayou by Elizabeth Lowell when Walker backs down Faith’s stalking ex-boyfriend, Tony. “You got the nice one with me.”

  The scene in Fast Women by Jennifer Crusie when Gabe takes Nell to lunch and yells at her until she eats. “Do you really want to have this argument with me now!”

The scene in Perfect Partners by Jane Anne Krentz when Letty explains to Joel why she broke off her engagement. “Compromising situation.”

The scene in Unspoken by Angela Hunt when Sema the gorilla saves Glee. To me, the amazing part of this scene was how totally I didn’t see it coming and how it was the foundation of the whole book.

 The scene in A Passion Most Pure by Julie Lessman when Collin the rogue proves to good girl Faith that she has desires like everyone else…as if she didn’t already know.

 The scene in Matchmakers by Jude Deveraux where Cale, the novelist, and Kane Taggart… well, okay forget it…I can’t read one scene in that book. I have to read every word. “I have always fantacized about being likeable.” (this remains my favorite line ever written)

 I could go on for a long, long time.

 I’ve even got some in my own books.

 The avalanche in Calico Canyon leading up to the moment Grace says, “I used to be brave.” Grace ends up punching Daniel in the nose.

 The fight leading up to the wedding in Petticoat Ranch. Clay is thrilled, Sophie not so much.

 That would be stupid,” Clay bellowed. “Do I strike you as a stupid man?”—Sophie arched an eyebrow, and didn’t respond.

 

Braden finding Amy clinging to a cliff in Golden Days. He thinks she fell. She says she was pushed. While they’re fighting over that, a bear attacks. Love that scene. 

 “I didn’t.”

“Stupid…”

“You’re not stupid.”

“Lazy…”

“You work hard. I never said…”

“Liar.”

“Well, you should have told Ian…”

“Is that about it? Perhaps you would be as well to toss me back over the cliff before my inferiority destroys your family.”

 

Maybe that’s a goal to strive for, how many enduring scenes I can fit into my own novels.

A lot of times it seems like really steamy scenes are compelling but I’ve noticed, for me, it’s what leads up to intimacy and the aftermath where the real power is, the four to ten pages of ‘put his hand there’ ‘move her body there’ ‘he caressed’ ‘she trembled’ isn’t all that interesting and I usually skim through that. But what leads up to it is often explosive and passionate and powerful. And usually the aftermath ends in disaster (if it’s early in the book) and that makes for a good scene.

Do any of you have scenes like this? Or is this a personal quirk of mine?

Scenes where the words just come to life, sing, become more than the sum of their parts? Usually there’s a powerful emotion on the line in that scene. Usually, for me, there is humor and action and lots of perfectly paced dialogue.

So tell me your favorites.

Favorite moments, favorite novels. Do you know why they’re your favorites? Put it into words.

Linda Howard’s Alpha Males. Julie Garwood’s Barbarians and Maidens. Suzanne Brockmann’s vulnerable supermen. Jude Deveraux’s sharp, funny dialogue. Susan Elizabeth Phillips’ humor. Angela Hunt’s ability to take the most unusual ideas and bring them to life in powerful ways.

Do you have favorite scenes?

    

Click on covers to go to Amazon.com

www.maryconnealy.com

 

I know why ”Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants” is such a big hit. It’s the jeans. From teenagers to baby boomers, we can all relate. Slipping into a comfortable pair of jeans instantly lowers blood pressure, gets us humming, and on our best days, makes us feel sexy.

When I was in high school, the competition was between Levi’s®, Lee® and Wrangler®. These days, teenagers have a greater variety to choose from.  But I still love those originals.

In my Westerns, my men wear Levi’s. If they’re Mounties, they wear breeches while on duty, but off, they’re all in denim. There’s nothing like a man wearing only a pair of jeans, is there? 

      

Levi’s originated in San Francisco during the California Gold Rush. They were still popular twenty-five years later during the Klondike Gold Rush, where my books are set.  When I recently visited San Francisco, I discovered Levi’s flagship store in Union Square, the heart of the city. That’s it behind the palm trees at the top of the stairs.

In 1873, Levi Strauss was the first in the world to design a pair of blue jeans. He had a business partner, Jacob Davis, a tailor who came up with the idea for adding metal rivets. When their patent for metal rivets expired in 1891, dozens of other garment manufacturers added rivets to their jeans and jackets.   

Levi Strauss was born in Bavaria, Germany. When he was a boy (named Loeb at birth), he and his family emigrated to New York City. They ran a dry goods store. In 1853 when he was twenty-three, Levi moved to San Francisco. He opened a wholesale dry goods store of his own. Levi outfitted many smaller stores that were springing up all over the west coast. Items included jackets, overalls, coats, umbrellas and bolts of fabric.

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