Cathy McDavid

Cathy McDavid has been penning Westerns for Harlequin since 2005. With over 55 titles in print and 1.6 million-plus books sold, Cathy is also a member of the prestigious Romance Writers of America’s Honor Roll. This “almost” Arizona native and mother of grown twins is married to her own real-life sweetheart. After leaving the corporate world seven years ago, she now spends her days penning stories about good looking cowboys riding the range, busting broncs, and sweeping gals off their feet — oops, no. Make that winning the hearts of feisty, independent women who give the cowboys a run for their money. It a tough job, but she’s willing to make the sacrifice.

Hometown Hoedown – Cathy McDavid (April 30)

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I moved to Scottsdale, Arizona when I was thirteen years old. And while I’ve lived here ever since and consider it my home, I was born and raised in Connecticut. Our house was in Scantic—a small community near East Windsor with not much more than a church, a cemetery, historical society, State Park on the Scantic River, along with several home-run businesses like a construction company, art studio, and auto repair. The only new additions since I was a child are a few Airbnbs and some more houses. Otherwise, it’s pretty much the same picture-perfect heart of Colonial New England all these decades later.

Just to give you an idea of what old and quaint Scantic was and continues to be, our house was built fifteen years post the end of the civil war. The original property consisted of many, many acres with the main crop being tobacco—specifically a broad leaf variety used for cigars. Some of you may have heard of the book by Mildred Savage called “Parish” which was made into a 1961 movie of the same name starring Troy Donahue, Connie Stevens, Claudette Colbert, and Karl Malden, among others. Much of the movie was filmed in East Windsor and featured vivid scenes of shaded tobacco fields. Of course, the tobacco industry has died off since then, but there were still some fields when I was a child and one of the original tobacco drying barns on our property remained standing, although it was in great disrepair.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was able to return for a visit about a year-and-a-half ago. Both my parents are buried there And while it’s far from where I live now, I honored their wishes as they were so happy during the time we lived there. It seemed only fitting they are resting in the cemetery, not far from the graves of Colonial settlers who lived in Scantic during the 1700s.

When I visited, I brought with me and donated a collection of painted primitive art that was done by a friend of my mother’s, Jean Dewey, to the historical society. The scenes on the items are from Scantic and depict the idyllic life from then and now. Small tidbit. Jean Dewey’s adorable son Christopher was in my class at school, and I had a terrible crush on him. In the third grade, he gave me a kiss on my cheek, and after promising not to tell anyone, I proceeded to blab to every girl in my class the following day.

One last note of interest. Scantic was so small, we didn’t have a school and were bussed to Broad Book, the next town over. While considerably larger, Broad Brook is still as charming as ever, and when I visited recently, I was delighted to find that some of the original buildings, like the opera house and general store, were much like they were in my youth.

Thanks for taking this trip down memory lane with me and visiting my hometown. Tell me something memorable about where you grew up and if you ever return for a visit.

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Choosing the Perfect Name for Your Horse

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I’ve owned horses most of my life, from the time I was a preteen until a few years ago (we won’t mention how many decades there are in between). The very first horse I called my own was a bay gelding named Mac. That was it. Just Mac. He wasn’t particularly beautiful, but he was gentle and well-behaved. By the time I turned fourteen, I was ready for a more advanced horse, and we acquired Torno – short for Tornado. Now, he was a beauty. A striking black, high-stepping Saddlebred who sailed over fences. In college, I switched from English riding to Western and Baldy was my horse of choice. She was pie-bald mare with an entirely white face and pale blue eyes.

In all three cases, my horse came with an established name, and it seemed to fit them and their characteristics. Not that I would have changed it. As a youngster, I once read in book that changing a horse’s name was bad luck, and I believed it. Over the years, my husband and I came to own many dozens of horses and mules—some of them with silly or just plain awful names. Still, I wouldn’t change them. Instead, I’d come up with a tolerable, if not cute, nickname. A few of the more memorable ones were a pony named Tinkle and an older white swayback called Dumpy. I couldn’t bring myself to call them by those terrible monikers, so I dubbed them Tinker Bell and Dimples. I figured the nicknames were close enough to not rain any bad luck down on us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was also tasked with the job of naming the many babies we had and any nameless horse or mule that came to us. One of my favorites was a baby mule that we had after several years of trying and much money invested. The moment I saw him at a few hours old, I pronounced him Dollar, which made perfect sense. Eighteen months later, his full sister Penny was born. I mean, seriously, what else could I call her? A dun mare we fostered produced a handsome male foal that looked just like her, so I called him Son of a Dun, Sonny for short.

Not all the names I picked were humorous, although I admit I often leaned that way. Neither were all the names clever and original. We had our share of classics like Lady and Fancy and Patches. I named my favorite horse of all time Tiger because he was born in the year of the tiger. What mattered most is that somehow the names all came to fit the horse or mule.

Oh, and this doesn’t take into account all the names of fictional horses and bulls and even dogs that I had to come up with for books. I once had a fierce bucking bull called Orange Crush and most recently a diminutive mule I gave the name of Short Stack.

Just for fun, tell me, what would you name this silly fellow? Who knows? I just might use him and your suggestion in a future book ?

And don’t forget to check out our P&P reader group on Facebook!

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The Curious and Useful Broom Corn Plant – and a giveaway

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Have you ever played that game: what is your state (or town) famous for? I met someone recently from a small town in Colorado. He told me that where he lived grew more broom corn than anywhere else in the country. Now, I can’t verify if what he claimed is 100% true, but our conversation was interesting, and I learned a lot about broom corn.

Full disclosure, I never really thought about how people made brooms in olden days. I figured they used some kind of thin, hard plant stalk. I had no idea brooms were actually constructed by using the top part of a plant. And as it turns out, broom corn isn’t really corn at all. It’s a type of sorghum (Sorghum bicolor), a plant with long fibrous seed heads. Once the seeds are (easily) removed, the remaining strands can be bound together to make great bristles for brooms.

In case you’re interested, here’s a video of a man making a broom from the broom corn seed heads. It’s kind of cool. Though sweeping with one of these old-fashioned brooms looks like hard work. I now have a new respect for people in centuries past.

Short Video on How to Make a Broom with Broom Corn

Seems brooms aren’t the only thing you can use broom corn seed heads for. The stalks make great decorative items like festive spring or fall wreaths, dried flower arrangements, and fun Halloween ornaments. After watching the video, I’m wondering if I couldn’t craft a witch’s broom for the front door.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well, my research in to broom corn and its many uses inspired me. I thought it might be fun to have a giveaway. Who doesn’t want a genuine broom corn whisk broom? I decided to give away this little fellow along with a couple of my backlist books. I think it might look cute hanging on a laundry room wall or in the pantry.

To enter the giveaway, all you have to do is comment below on how you use a whisk broom. I’ll start. Sweep crumbs off the counter (ha, ha). I’ll randomly choose one winner from everyone who comments.

P.S. – don’t forget to check out the Petticoats & Pistols FB Readers Group page at:

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Where Do You Get Your Story Ideas?

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One of the questions authors are frequently asked is, “Where do you get your story ideas?” I tell people, from all around. I see something interesting, hear an anecdote, meet a colorful individual, or read about a real-life event in the news or online. “You just have to pay attention,” I’m fond of saying to them.

For example, I went to a journalism event last week and met the most interesting gentleman. About five years ago, he returned to the small town in Colorado where he was raised and purchased the local newspaper which was on the brink of bankruptcy. The first thing he did was to hire his daughter as his head and only reporter. Within six months, he proceeded to turn the newspaper around and get it operating in the black again. I was very impressed and quite entertained by his many charming small town newspaper tales, especially when he talked about the 67 letters he found in an old file and that were written by the original owner from the 1880s. What a treasure! Those are probably a book all by themselves.

Immediately, my writer’s brain started to spin. I told myself, “There’s a story in there somewhere.” Does anyone remember the movie We Bought a Zoo? I think it was a book first. Anyway, We Bought a Zoo is the story of a heartbroken widower and father who buys a small, down on its luck zoo. I loved it the movie, by the way, and began to picturing something similar  — like, I Bought a Newspaper. Of course, in my story, the hero would be young and hire his sister rather than his daughter as head reporter.

No, wait! Better yet, my heroine would buy the newspaper and hire her brother as the reporter. And, of course, she would have to be at odds with the hero. Maybe he’s a developer who has plans of buying the building that houses the newspaper and turning it into a manufacturing plant. Only that would make him a bad guy, and he has to be good, right? I know. He wants to turn it into a state-of-the-art Urgent Care facility to service the town which only has an outdated clinic.

But how to make that a western? I got it! His family is wealthy, having made their money in the cattle business. They have the biggest ranch in the area. And my heroine could dig up some dirt on his family when she finds these old letters in a storage box. The kind of dirt that could ruin them.

Except what if I want to make this into a historical western? That would add all kinds of conflict for my heroine. As a woman business owner back in the old days, especially a newspaper publisher, she’d have a hard time being accepted by both men and woman. Probably no one would want to talk to her, which would make investigating stories and getting witnesses to talk hard.

Hmm…this might be something I need to print out and put in my idea file, which, no joke, is at least an inch thick. Yeah, the story idea needs a little work and polishing, for sure, but it could make for a good book, I think. And I do have the business card of the gentleman I met should I have research questions.

If nothing else, I have a really good answer when people ask me where I get my story ideas.

A Glimpse Into My Civil War Family Connection

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I was talking the other day with some of the fillies about my early American Colonial history and my relationship to Nathan Hale. Yes, the famous “I regret I have but one life to lose for my country” guy. FYI, he didn’t have any children, but his sister did, and it’s through her that my family can trace the connection.

I also have ties to the Civil War. My great-great-great grandfather Edward Talcott Ingraham fought for the North as part of Connecticut’s Sixteenth Regiment. Though taken prisoner later in the war, he amazingly survived the horrific conditions at the notorious Andersonville Prison, eventually returned home to his father’s farm, and then married his sweetheart Nellie. He never fully recovered from his injuries and ordeal, however. He and Nellie had a daughter and, sadly, while she was pregnant with their son, Edward grew weak and died.

He enlisted as a young man of nineteen in response to Abraham Lincoln’s call for volunteers and was paid $25 a month wages. Edward believed in the Union and ultimately gave his life for his country. During the time he was away from the family farm, he wrote letters to Nellie and his father that miraculously survived intact, although the writing is faded and the pages are like tissue paper. My aunt had the letters until she died, and they are now in the tender hands of my cousin. About twenty years ago, my aunt and mother painstakingly transcribed the letters which offer amazing first-hand insight into the life of a Yankee soldier. Here’s just one letter to give you an idea (the spelling and grammar mistakes are Edward’s – my aunt left them in to be accurate):

Dear Nellie,

There if the heading of this does not let you know where I be, I do not know what will. Your kind letter reached me today and as the regiment is under light marching orders, I must answer it today with a short letter. I expect we have got to see some more fighting in a few days. If we do, I do not know but I shall be one to fall. Oh, I am detached from the regiment in to a pionear confis which goes ahead of the troops to clear the way. It is rather a dangerous position to be in. There is no news only have got to give the rebs another summers chase. I will send you a bit of wood from a tree which the bullet hit before it went through Fred Cooleys head. He stood next man to me in the last fight and this time it may hit me. Excuse this short letter for I have no time for we are engaged in preparing for the march. Give my love to all and write soon. Direct your letters as you have done.

                       I remain your ever affectionate friend

                                                            Edward

In addition to the letters, one tintype photograph of Edward also survived these many years. Here is an image of it my mother had produced from the original tintype. She always thought my cousin resembled him ? Quite the mustache, don’t you agree?

One last interesting fact about my great-great-great grandfather’s time serving in the war. When he and the others of the Sixteenth Regiment were taken prison after losing in battle, they tore their regiment flag into small strips and concealed the strips in their clothing before being transported to Andersonville. Many died there ­ — more from the Sixteenth Regiment than any other regiment. When a member of the Sixteenth died, the strip they carried was given to another member of the Sixteenth Regiment for safekeeping. When all the prisoners were finally released, they were sent to Newberne where they finished out the war doing guard and provost duty. It was there that the remaining scattered survivors of the Sixteenth Regiment were at long last reunited.

In 1879, a space was set aside in the new Connecticut Sate Capitol Building in Hartford for the various flags of the Connecticut Regiments. The remaining strips of the Sixteenth’s flag were stitched together to form a shield. This shield was then sewn onto a banner of heavy white Cheney silk from the silk mills in nearby Manchester. An eagle was embroidered above the shield to replicate the original design of the flag. This banner remains on display in a place of honor to this day.

I think after writing this post, I no longer wonder why I have an interest in American history and write romances. My great-great-great-grandfather survived nothing less than hell on Earth to return to his sweetheart, who faithfully waited for him for years. That’s quite a story, yes?

If you haven’t already done so, check out my latest release:  Merry’s Christmas Cowboy, part of Petticoats & Pistols Christmas Stocking Sweethearts.

 Purchase Merry’s Christmas Cowboy

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Christmas Stocking Sweethearts! Cathy McDavid

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I’m so excited to be part of Christmas Stocking Sweethearts  – my first participation in a collection with my fellow Petticoats and Pistols fillies. Little known fact, I wrote western historicals early in my writing career before switching to contemporaries. I’m thrilled to be returning to one of my favorite romance genres. And the story also happens to be set in one of my favorite time periods:  the early 1900s.

A widow struggling to save her home

A cowboy sworn to protect his family

A Christmas neither will ever forget…

 

 

Merry Ann Bright may be pint-sized, but she’s chock-full of gumption. For the last three years, she’s fended off a wealthy and greedy neighbor bent on acquiring her land by hook or by crook — emphasis on the crook. The last thing she needs is more trouble. But when she unexpectedly encounters a family in dire straits, how can she turn her back on them?

Thèo Cartier is a man on a mission. Once he’s seen his sister-in-law and young nephew safely home, he’ll return to Texas and help his aging father run the ranch. The lovely widow Merry is a distraction he can ill afford. Especially when her roots are firmly planted a thousand miles from his own.

Can Christmastime, the shared love of favorite carols, and a special heirloom stocking show two people convinced they have no future together that anything is possible…if they just open their hearts?

Click here to purchase MERRY’S CHRISTMAS COWBOY

Click here to view the entire series on Amazon

 

Yes, we know. It’s that time of year when we sometimes feel less kind than we should.

Re-write the sentence in red to something less naughty and more nice.  For example:

NAUGHTY:  “Grandma’s eggnog is too thick and chunky.”

NICE: “Isn’t it wonderful Grandma is still with us to make her eggnog?”

THEIR DECORATIONS ARE SO GAUDY.

 

You might win this piano ornament from me – plus a backlist holiday book!

 

All entries will be eligible for our oh-so-beautiful Grand Prize, too!

Winners announced Sunday, December 15!

(USA Winners only, please.)

In the event the piano ornament becomes unavailable, we will happily make a substitute.

Happy Thanksgiving to You and Yours

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Hoping you have a wonderful day celebrating in a way that brings you joy and contentment.  May you be surrounded by love and loved ones and food you love.  May you eat too much, laugh too much, hug too much, and just plain have too much fun. Take a moment to count your blessings and share a smile. Go to bed contented and at peace.

One of Cathy’s Most Favorite Things!

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Kind of a funny story. The other day I was wondering what to write about for my favorite things post as I was getting ready to walk my 14-year-old hairless terrier dog Nacho. Walks are something I do most days, barring inclement weather or an illness. I mean, really, there is nothing better for your physical and mental health. Walks relieve stress. Boost your mood. Lower your blood pressure. Elevate your feel good hormone dopamine and your endorphins. The exercise is good for your heart, your joint health, and your muscle tone. Sunshine innaturally infuses you with vitimin D. Socializing on your walk, either going with someone or chatting with people you meet, is one of the best ways to fight off dementia. For me, walks are a short mental vacation. They’re also great for working through a book plotting problem or listening to a writer’s workshop on my phone. Frankly, walks are just what the doctor ordered.

Which brings me back to putting on my shoes and getting ready to go out. I thought, why not write about walking Nacho? Not only is it something I do almost every day, it really is a favorite activity of mine. But I can’t just write about walking. That would be boring, right? Agreed. So, come join me in a typical walk with Nacho.  Oh, and yes, he’s wearing Haloween pajamas.

As you can see from this picture of Nacho, walks are one of his favorite things, too. All the physical and mental benefits that are good for people are also good for your canine friend.

One of our favorite places is the park by our house. There’s lots of green all year long and cool places to explore like this wash.

Sometimes we have to take a break. Both Nacho and I have arthritis and and get tired 🙂