Dance

BLUEBONNET FIELDS (AND A GIVEAWAY!) by Kara O’Neal

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Howdy, fellow western romance readers!

I’m so excited to be back with y’all to talk about books, the West, and history! I’ve learned so much from the posts on Petticoats and Pistols, and I’m glad I get to contribute to this blog.

When I was drafting Bluebonnet Fields, the final book in the Wildflower series, I got to visit the Hill Country in Texas, which is where the bluebonnets grow. It’s also where my grandma is from. And her mother, and her mother’s mother.

They were a family of cotton pickers. Migrant workers.

My grandma grew up running the roads of the Hill Country and picking furrow after furrow of cotton.

But, in between the work, they made time for fun, and dancing was often their favorite activity.

 

Gruene Hall, in Gruene, Texas, (pronounced “green”), is the oldest continually operating dance hall in Texas. It was started in 1878, and it hasn’t changed much at all. The layout of the building is the same—bar at the front, dance floor in the middle, side-flaps for open-air dancing, tin roof, and a small stage opposite the bar. The outdoor garden, with the live oak trees and stone walk-ways are also still the same.

Oh, the fun this building has seen! The music it has heard!

Gruene Hall is one of my favorite places in Texas, and two-stepping or waltzing the night away at this establishment, as so many others have done, is a privilege and an honor.

And in Bluebonnet Fields, I was able to give that joy to Kenna and Levi. It’s where Kenna has her first dance, and where they share their first kiss. It’s truly magical.

And I can imagine my great-grandmothers there, having themselves a grand time, loving the music, dancing the night away, and maybe giving away a kiss or two!

Do you have a favorite historic spot or town that instantly transports you back in time? Please share and one commentor will win a copy of Bluebonnet Fields!

 BLUEBONNET FIELDS

Texas, 1890

Kenna Ainsley has no use for love. It only brings betrayal and disappointment. She finds solace in her work as a Harvey Girl, and the independence that brings.

But one day a stranger sits down at her table. He’s a Deputy Sheriff, and before she can blink, he’s dragging her back to Galveston on an erroneous charge that she’s a runaway wife.

Kenna plots her escape. But even as she tries to free herself, her heart is working against her. She’s falling for the handsome Deputy Sheriff, which sends her fleeing to the one place she swore she would never go.

Deputy Sheriff Levi Brandt has plans, and Kenna is at the center of them. After one look at her, he knows there’s no way in hell she’s gonna end up hitched to anyone else but him. But he’s gonna have to do some heavy lifting to get her to trust him. Lucky for her, he welcomes the weight. No matter how far she runs, he’ll find her. Always.

 

Excerpt

When Kenna entered the hall on the arm of Levi, she took in her surroundings with an excited eye. The dance floor was in the direct center. A bar was at one end, near the main doors, and the stage where the band was playing was opposite it. The area was flanked by tables, and several rectangular windows that had flaps designed to draw in a breeze.

People were about, some at the bar with glasses of beer, some at the tables eating, while couples twirled to the lively reel being played by the band. Kenna knew the tune. She’d heard it once spilling forth from a saloon in Galveston. She’d stopped to listen outside the doors for a brief moment.

“You ready?” Levi asked, leaning down near her ear.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she announced. She looked at him, her pulse racing in anticipation of all that was going to occur and what might occur this night.

He grinned. “Then hang on to me, darlin’, because I don’t intend to let your feet touch the floor.”

And with that, he swept her up into his arms and twirled her onto the dance floor. With his gaze locked on hers, he took her through the lively steps, spinning and whirling her to the strains of the fiddle, guitar, drum, harmonica, and banjo.

Without a care, she put her trust in him, grateful not to have to worry for one night. She was going to forget her cares and let herself go.

When the first dance ended, there was barely a second to breathe before the next one was starting. He never relinquished his hold on her. His arm was tight around her waist, and he was keeping her deliciously close as he expertly slipped them into the waltz that was now being played.

As he turned her about the room, she basked in his intent attention and possessive hold. His gaze was gleaming with heat and promise, with want and delight. She fell into his eyes and hoped in hers he saw her own desire.

The waltz melted into a reel, then back into a waltz once more, and as the evening darkened into night, her heart soared to the Heavens and stayed there. Her head was spinning, her body was humming. She never wanted to let him go.

And when another fellow tapped him on the shoulder, making Levi pause, and indicating his want to cut in, her breath caught in fear that Levi would give her up.

“No,” Levi fairly growled at the man, an instant fury leaping from him.

The fellow raised his brow, then set his jaw and walked off.

Levi immediately began dancing with her again, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

He set his lips next to her ear. “I told you, Kenna, you’re mine for tonight. I’m not sharing.”

She squeezed his hand and curled her fingers more tightly about his arm. An involuntary reaction that showed her pleasure at his gruff vow.

His answer was to tighten his arm about her waist, pulling her even closer.

 Book Purchase Link:  https://books2read.com/u/bP2ewY

What about you? Do you like to dance? If so, what is your favorite kind and where? Leave a comment to be entered in the drawing for one ebook copy of Bluebonnet Fields!

 

Author Bio

Kara O’Neal is an award-winning author of over thirty historical romances. Humor, family, love, and romance take center stage in her novels, and her characters have been touted as “real, complex, and down-to-earth”. Her books are available in print and ebook.

When not writing, she’s a teacher, but she’s always a mother to three talented children, and the wife of a man quite worthy of being called “hero”.

Telling stories is her passion, and she does so with memorable characters and unique plots certain to keep you reading late into the night! Visit Kara O’Neal at http://www.karaoneal.com.

Where to Find Kara

Website ~ Instagram ~ Facebook ~ X ~ Pinterest ~ Newsletter ~ Goodreads ~ Bookbub ~ Amazon

Seasoned Women in the West

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I don’t write historical western romance, I write contemporary romance. But, I was curious about women’s roles in the Old West, particularly seasoned women, and how that compares to women’s roles on ranches and cattle spreads today.

Googling gave me lots of information about older women in the nineteenth and early twentieth century. So did watching a lot of westerns on TV. If old westerns from the fifties and sixties are to be believed, seasoned women in places like Virginia City, Montana, and Denver and San Francisco ran the brothels and dance halls and saloons. Most with feather in their dyed red hair, a quick wit, and an iron hand.

Yet, some well-done films show us women who were resilient, tough and who endured great hardships. Have you ever seen Frank Capra’s 1951 film Westward the Women about a wagon train of women heading West to find husbands? The older women in that movie, Hope Emerson and Renata Vanni, were the glue that held that group of women together. In The Unforgiven, Lillian Gish (at 66) is stellar in the role of a mother who defends her family and her ranch. Helen Mirren in 1923 is a rock the Duttons depend upon and who fights fiercely for her family’s Montana ranch.

The women who came West on wagon trains and helped their husbands/fathers start ranches were the real tough ones though. They might have been living city life before, but once they landed in places like Montana and Wyoming and Colorado, they learned how to build a soddy—a house made of thick layers of prairie sod, how to plough and plant the dry land of the prairies, how to climb the rocky foothills to hunt down a stray calf or sheep, and how to hunt for food. They set snares, fished the rushing rivers and creeks, and even went after wildcats and bears. They plowed and planted so they would have the most basic subsistence foods. Life was hard and very often short with doctors being in short supply, winters hard, and illness and injuries frequently fatal.

Contemporary Western women of all ages fight just as fiercely and work just as hard as their nineteenth-century counterparts, although with a bit more assistance from modern technology. Wells are drilled now with machinery instead of dug by hand, fences are electrified, but they still have to be repaired, tractors beat hand plows all to heck, and 4-wheel-drivetrucks and Gators make getting around the vast acres much easier and faster. Cows still need hay, and calves still need to be birthed but computers make ranch organization much easier. Access to modern medicine, ambulances, and hospitals make live spans much longer; and although most ranch women grow big gardens even today, grocery stores make produce and dairy more readily available.

Today’s ranch women have different challenges than their nineteenth-century sisters, but the goal is the same—to make a success of the family farms and cattle spreads. When I write my contemporary heroines, I try hard to show spunky, tough ladies who can rope a cow, wrangle a herd of horses, and help birth a calf. But they’re also smart, fun, flirty women who can handle the ranch books, dance with skirts a swirlin’, and charm a cowboy right to his knees.

Waltzing Adds Zest to Life

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Spring is here and my heart is dancing along with my feet!

One of the things that always seems to wind up in my stories is dancing. My characters apparently love to dance. Everyone had to work so hard to carve out a life in the 1800s they had little free time. But on occasion, they had dances.

Up until 1814, dancing was confined to the quadrille, cotilion, baroque, and a few others. There was the barest of touching allowed. The fingertips and hand, but only brief touches at that. How in the world they managed to have children was a miracle. But I’m sure when they got in their carriages out of sight things were different. Oh yes, very different.

This was a time when the slightest glimpse of a lady’s ankle was titillating. Yet it’s strange to me that in a lot of pictures of the 1800s, women showed a lot of bosom. Far too much in fact. Kinda weird.

When the waltz came along in 1814, young people were more than ready for it. To dance so close in an “almost” embrace was quite scandalous! My, oh my. The waltz changed the landscape. At last couples could touch more than their hands and it really took off.

It’s a proven fact that I like to two-step and waltz. Sometimes I dance around my apartment just because it makes me feel good.

But back to the subject. In my recent release, Winning Maura’s Heart, I wrote a scene where Calhoun coaxes Maura into his arms. They have no music, only Calhoun humming. But Maura is swept away. Because she is the hangman’s daughter, she’s never been asked to a dance or courted, or even kissed. No man wanted the hangman to look his way.

Calhoun had no such reservations. He didn’t care who her father was. He liked Maura and nothing was going to make him stop. I loved that about him. He found a way to get what he wanted and wouldn’t let anything stop him.

I loved writing their short private dance. Here’s a little excerpt:

Holding her gaze, his dark eyes softening in the dim light, he silently took the pins from her hair. The mass of long tresses cascaded down her back, spilling over his hands like the whisper of a hope. She closed her eyes for a moment, as some strange desire surged through her veins, knocking her off kilter. Before she had time to adjust, he ran his hands through the long strands, murmuring low.

She raised her eyes and stared into his dark orbs that held so much emotion. “Calhoun.”

“Nothing can compare to your loveliness. I mean that. Nothing. You truly take my breath.” He bowed at the waist and extended his hand. “May I have this dance, Miss Maura?”

With his manners and handsome features, he could easily be a charming prince.

Maura’s heart fluttered. “Here? I’ve never danced in my life. Besides, we don’t have any music.”

“I’ll hum a song I know. The dance is simple. Just stand in one spot and sway.”

“Then I have to try.” She fitted her hand in his and placed the other on his shoulder. He didn’t know this fulfilled one of her secret fantasies.

Here with no one to see her make a fool of herself, she took a deep breath and relaxed. He hummed a song with a nice melody and the sound transported her to a ballroom in some castle. She was dancing with one of the most desirable men she’d ever seen.

In his arms, she felt safe and protected. A languid warmth spread through her and she leaned into the cocoon he’d created, resting her head on his shoulder. She swayed back and forth against him, imagining they were in some fancy place.

“See? I knew you could do it,” Calhoun murmured against her temple. “You’re doing fine.”

 

Do you like to dance? Or maybe you once did. Can you remember how it made you feel? Leave a comment to be entered in a drawing for two e-book copies of Winning Maura’s Heart.

When Halloween Meant Scaring Up a Little Romance

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It seems to me that Halloween has grown darker over the years.  Growing up in Michigan, we dressed up as beggars and yelled “Help the poor.”  I don’t remember anyone wearing scary costumes.  Another place where you probably wouldn’t have seen werewolves or zombies is in the Old West.

During the 1800s it was considered a night of romance. Many of the tricks and treats of those Victorian Halloween parties were designed with romance in mind.

 In the Old West, Halloween dances were held in schoolhouses, barns or churches.  Guests were required to jump over a broom upon arrival to assure future happiness.  Masquerade balls were popular, too, but mostly held in the east.   

Apples played an important part in these Halloween rituals but so did tin soldiers.  An article in the El Paso Daily paper in 1899 described the ritual of melting tin soldiers.  A young woman would then drip the melted tin from a spoon into cold water. The tin would harden in all manner of shapes, thus foretelling a maiden’s future.  If, for example, the tin looked like a shoe, she would marry a shoemaker.  A ship meant her future husband would be a sailor and a hammer foretold a carpenter in her future.

Bobbing for apples was a must, but with an interesting twist. The apples would each contain the name of a male guest.  A woman lucky enough to sink her teeth into a pippin would come up with more than just a wet face; she’d also know the name of her future mate.

 Some enterprising hostesses who owned apple trees went one step further.  While the apples were still green they glued the initials of single males onto the apples.  When the apples ripened, the paper was washed off revealing the green initials on the rosy cheeks.   Upon arriving at the party, female guests would draw an apple from the tub to find out the name of her dance partner.

 Another popular game involving apples required careful paring so that the peels were cut into one long strip. These were then thrown over the left shoulder.  The initial the peel made on the floor was the initial of a future love.

 Peelings were also hung from barn doors and female guests were given a number. If for example, you got number two, then the second male through the door was your true love.

 Another crowd-pleaser was the cobweb game.  Guests were each given two bright colored threads attached to a cardboard heart in some remote corner. The threads ran through the room in an intricate pattern. The idea was to unravel your thread by bobbing under a red thread or slipping through a tangle of green or blue threads until you reached the heart which named your partner for the night.

Halloween games also included the game of Proposal.  Each woman was given a stack of cardboard hearts and lemons.  The males had to go around the room and propose to each woman. He had thirty seconds to convince her to marry him. When the bell rang, she would either give him a lemon for no or a heart for yes.  At the end of the game, the man with the most hearts won. 

With all the ghosts and goblins of today, it’s hard to imagine a time when Halloween was just another word for romance                             

        How are you and your family planning to spend this pandemic Halloween? 

You’ll Find a List of Margaret’s Books Here:

Amazon

 

Going Courtin’

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“Goin’ courtin’, goin’ courtin’…” 

Can’t you just hear a trail-dusty cowboy humming a tune, thinking about the dance that night and the girl he’ll twirl around in his arms? 

Community dances, barn dances, harvest balls, and the like gave people who didn’t often make it into town or have time for socializing a chance to connect, laugh, reminisce, and court.  

In my historical romances, I just love the idea of a community dance. I’ve included everything from formal balls to a dance in an empty warehouse. It’s so fun to think about the decorations, the refreshments, the clothes, and the music.

But especially the participants. It’s the hopeless romantic in me that sees these dances as a perfect opportunity for romance to blossom.

One of my favorite dance scenes is from my sweet romance Lightning and Lawmen. Two deputies both like the same beautiful girl. 

Think some sparks (or fists) might fly?

 

Dugan danced with every woman over sixty in attendance and several females under the age of ten, but he never once danced with any of the single young women in attendance. He certainly failed to ask her to dance. She’d just finished a rousing polka with a man she knew worked for Thane in one of his mines when she turned to her next partner and found herself swept into Dugan’s arms.

Suddenly, the rest of the dancers ceased to exist, the music faded into the background, and there was no one else in the world except Dugan.

“Delilah,” he finally said in a raspy tone that rendered her limbs languid.

Nearly tripping on the hem of her skirt, he kept her upright and swung her outside the door. In a few steps, he’d positioned them around the corner of the building where the dusky evening light wrapped around them in an amber-hued glow.

“Why are you dancing with doting grandmothers and little girls?” she asked, hurt by the fact he’d ignored her even if she didn’t want to give voice to her thoughts.

“Because I don’t wanna dance if it ain’t with you, Delilah. I don’t want to draw another breath unless you’re beside me.”

Even in the muted light, she could see his eyes darken while his nostrils flared. His lips parted, and she knew she was a goner.

“Dilly,” he said, giving her a long, thorough look as his hands bracketed her face. “What are you doing to me? Delightful, darling, delicious Delilah,” he muttered as his head descended toward hers.

Her eyes closed, anticipating the impact of his kiss when cool air suddenly spilled around her. She opened her eyes to see Seth shoving Dugan against the wall.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Dugan growled. His jaw clenched in anger as he glared at his friend.

“Leave my girl alone,” Seth warned, raising a fist with a threatening scowl.

“Since when is she your girl?” Dugan asked, removing his suit coat and handing it to Delilah.

Without thinking, she took it, appalled two men she admired were about to engage in fisticuffs over her. It was unthinkable!

“Both of you stop this nonsense right this minute,” she said, stepping between the two of them.

“Delilah, honey, I’ll settle this,” Seth said, placing a hand on her waist and kissing her lightly on the mouth.

If she hadn’t been so shocked by his improper advances, she would have slapped his face.

Dugan didn’t give her a chance to, though. He stepped around Delilah and grabbed Seth around the neck, pulling him backward.

From that point on, fists began flying while the two men…

 


For a chance to win a copy of Lightning and Lawmen, just answer this question:

Who are you cheering for?

Dugan or Seth? 

 

And just because the song is now stuck in my head, how about a little Goin’ Courtin’?

 

Dancing Outlaws

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Dancing! Oh yes! I love it! I put dancing throughout my Outlaw Mail Order Brides series and it’s all the real-life outlaw gunslinger Clay Allison’s fault! They say he suffered a head wound during the Civil War and it left him with a terrible temper. Maybe so. His epitaph reads that he didn’t kill anyone that didn’t need it and it is a well-known fact that he put a lot of men six feet under.

But strangely, Clay loved to dance—a lot. He owned a ranch outside of Cimarron, New Mexico and always kept a violin player on his payroll.

I first put Clay Allison in The Heart of a Texas Cowboy as Houston Legend’s drover and my editor liked him so much she wanted me to give him his own book. I thought it best to make him fictional so I changed his last name to Colby. Book #1 of Outlaw Mail Order Brides—The Outlaw’s Mail Order Bride—is about Clay Colby.

Clay and some of his friends are tired of running and want to settle down so they decide to carve a town from their hideout. Next came populating it so they send for mail order brides.

Since Clay has been writing a wanted woman in hiding, Tally Shannon, he asks her to marry him so she travels to Hope’s Crossing. She agrees.

Oddly, Clay makes sure one his fellow outlaws is a fiddle player and they have a dance each night after supper, waltzing over the uneven ground under the stars. And that’s how he and Tally get acquainted. It worked.

My town has the dancing-est outlaws you ever met. It keeps ’em out of trouble. (Psst, not really)

I’ve always loved to watch dancers, but I didn’t know how until around the age of 30. I was married and three kids underfoot when I took classes at the local college for ballroom dancing. I learned the foxtrot, tango, the waltz, and then the teacher threw in the two-step.

It opened up a whole new world and I loved it. The only problem was my husband didn’t dance and had no desire at all to learn so I was forced again to sit on the sidelines.

Occasionally one of male customers would ask me, but then we stopped going to those places altogether, and sadly, I lost what I’d learned.

I still love to watch dancing couples though. And I love the show Dancing With the Stars, living vicariously through them. Sometimes, I even get out of my chair and do the steps. You’d die laughing.

Dancing has been in our culture probably since the beginning of time. The earliest proof was found in 9,000 year old cave drawings. I’m astounded.

Some of the dances had such names as the Quadrille, the Minuet, the Polka, the Waltz, and many others. Rock and Roll brought many, many more dances like the Lindy Hop, the Twist, the Jitterbug, etc. This didn’t involve a partner so I jumped right in and loved twisting and gyrating and making a fool of myself.

Tell me the first person you ever danced with and the type of dance it was. I’m giving away The Outlaw’s Mail Order Bride to three people who leave a comment.

Kickin’ up Yer Heels

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Step back in time—how do you celebrate a barn raising in the Old West? A wagon train coming to town? A wedding? The end of a cattle drive? Or something as regular as a Saturday night?

Dancing!

The towns in the West were full of independent, rugged people, looking to make a mark on the world or at least on their own pockets. Town dances invited all to attend; cowboys and miners, outlaws and lawmen, bankers and merchants, cultured women and soiled doves. Dances were important to bring a community together for courtship and friendshipping. It was also a vehicle that mixed the social classes, giving people opportunities for advancing one’s class. America’s class system wasn’t as rigid as had been the countries of Europe and the attendees of the dances proved this especially in the West.

Immigrants found it easy to hoe-down with their neighbors as many of the dances originated in Europe and changed very little from the folk dances people already knew. The Polka was a favorite in the new West, but other common dances were the Quadrille, Grand March, Waltz and Scottish Fling. As dances evolved, new steps became incorporated and a dance master would call out the steps to keep the group in sync. This evolved into an American original, the square dance. It seemed to fit the American ideal of a mixture of people and ideas that work together to create a new culture.

In many western towns, women were scarce. And just as in Shakespeare’s plays, men would assume the female role. “Heifer branding” solved the problem as burly men would don a piece of fabric tied round their arm or strap on a bonnet or apron to take the place of the fairer sex and the party continued.

Hurdy-Gurdy Girls traveled to western towns in a group of several women, chaperoned by a married couple, often with children. They hired out for dances and then traveled on to another town.

Saloons found that dancing brought in more men and more money, and employed women as dance hall girls. These women were looked down upon by “proper” ladies, but they were not prostitutes as they were accused. Men would buy a dance ticket for a dollar, then spend it on a partner of his choice, dancing together for a quarter of an hour. The interaction allowed for dance and conversation with men starved for female companionship.

The women generally earned half the price of the tickets they claimed. If they took the man to the bar after the dance, they received a commission on the drinks as well. The dance hall girls could make more in a week than most men made in a month. They also made more money than the prostitutes did, and when given an opportunity, the soiled doves made their way into the dance hall ranks.

Towns also sponsored regular dancing events. In Albert Benard de Russailh’s travel journal, Last Adventure, published in 1851, he wrote of dances in San Francisco. “I am occasionally reminded of our balls at the Salle Valentine on the Rue St. Honoré. There is one important difference: Parisian rowdies often come to blows; but in San Francisco hardly an evening passes without drunken brawls during which shots are fired.”

Dance in the Old West is part of the mystique of the era and was as vital to building their culture, as it is today. It was used to release energy, bring together neighbors, socialize, and provide recreation. So come on out to the barn—let’s dance.

One lucky commenter chosen at random will receive her choice of one of Jo Noelle’s ebooks! To be entered in the giveaway leave a comment on your favorite dance or your favorite dancing memory.

To follow Jo Noelle on on Facebook at Loving Sweet Historical Romance click here. To visit her website click here, and to buy her books, click here.

Works Consulted:

 

Margaret Goes Square Dancing

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I’m ready to dance!

In a moment of madness, I decided to join a square-dancing class.  I figured it would be good exercise and wouldn’t be that hard to learn.  I mean how hard could it be to do-si-do?

Well, I got the first part right.  It is good exercise. I clock more than ten thousand steps during class. Dancing is also good for the brain. According to Psychology Today,research shows that dancing reduces incidences of dementia and Alzheimer’s.

As for the easy part: forget that. Square-dancing requires memorizing hundreds of steps and learning a new language. The director told us that if we got lost, to just stand still and look confused.  Now That I can do.

In spite of the challenges, the one thing I really enjoy is the courtesy. Call me old-fashioned, but I love the way partners bow and honor each other. Though dress is informal, almost everyone dresses up a bit, which adds to the fun. The best part? There’s no shortage of cowboys. Yee-haw!

The various square dance movements are based on the steps and figures that were used in traditional folk dances from different countries. Folk dances were originally gala occasions where news would be swapped, and courtships formed.

The early colonists brought popular folk dances from France, Italy and Britain with them. However, following the American Revolution, the British dances fell out of favor and the French dancing styles took over. Many French terms like “do-si-do,” “allemande” and “promenade” are still used in square dancing today.

The French were not satisfied with the long double line of an indefinite number of couples, so they concentrated on the square limited to four couples. These squares were known at first as “French contra-dances,” or more simply as “French dances.”

Dance historian Phil Jamison writes in his book, Hoedowns, Reels, and Frolics: Roots and Branches of Southern Appalachian Dance  that in addition to European dances, African American and Native American dance forms contributed to the development of square dance.

The dances done in early America didn’t have a “caller,” or someone who yells out the moves to dancers. Rather, the expectation, Jamison says, was that dancers went to school, memorized the moves, then went to the ball.

“Square dancing in those early days was done to live music that was almost always played by African-American musicians. It’s believed that many of these musicians became callers due to the gap in literacy and formal training among slaves of the time.”

Jamison says he found evidence of an African American caller dating back as early as 1819 in New Orleans. Other African American dance moves, instruments like the banjo and fiddle, and call and response traditions were also incorporated.

There have been several attempts to have square dancing designated the national dance but, so far, the efforts have been defeated.  However, according to The Smithsonian, thirty-one states now claim square dancing as the official state dance.

Square Dancing has changed through the years to fit the needs of the people doing it.  All ages can join in the fun and there are many LGBT clubs. There are also groups for the handicapped.

Though square dancing, as we know it today, is now an American dance, it’s popular the world over. S.Foster Damon wrote in his book, The History of Square Dance, “Square-dancing is greater than any one nation: it is democracy itself, in dance form. Can anybody think of a better way to spread the spirit of democracy?”

What new and exciting things do you have planned

for the New Year? 

Meet the Haywire Brides

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Hurdy-Gurdy Girls of the Wild West ~ Janalyn Voigt

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The American West was all about travel. Emigrants, drifters, outlaws, dance hall girls, and other characters made their way west. The rest is history. However, I couldn’t help but wonder during my research for the Montana Gold series how accurately that history is portrayed. The rise of dance hall girls was one of my deepest-held beliefs about the West. They’ve been carried forward through time as soiled doves with hearts of gold who willingly embraced their lifestyle. After learning about the hurdy-gurdy girls, I began to question this image.

Beginning in the 1840’s, pretty young women from Hessia (a past part of Germany) drew crowds by singing and dancing while playing a stringed instrument known as the hurdy gurdy. They did this during a financially-repressed time in order to sell brooms their families made. The fame they gained brought them to the attention of unscrupulous ‘soul merchants’ intent on procuring their services in the mining camps of America. Families were visited and contracts signed. The ‘hurdy-gurdy girls’ came to America. Their fortunes varied. Some did well for themselves, but others suffered. While some of the women simply entertained miners, others fell into prostitution.

This was a story that needed telling, I felt. As a former military wife, I knew firsthand how disorienting travel into a foreign land can be. When writing about the heroine’s struggles in Stagecoach to Liberty, I could call upon my own experiences. It’s hard to describe the confusion you feel when everything familiar slips away and you are faced with a completely new world.

This was Elsa’s situation at the opening of Stagecoach to Liberty. After signing a contract, she travels to America at the behest of a shady couple. Elsa is very much a maiden in distress when, on a stagecoach journey, she comes to the attention of a handsome Irishman with troubles of his own. By this time, she’s very much in need of help but fearful of trusting anyone. The freedom she sought by coming to America seems a distant dream.

Exploring the theme of freedom demanded that I answer some questions. What was true freedom (as opposed to the other kind)? Elsa’s journey in Stagecoach to Liberty reveals that, when we come to the end of our strength and reach out to God, we find liberty.

Amazon

Leave a comment, and I’ll give away reader’s choice of a digital version of Hills of Nevermore (Montana Gold, book 1) or Cheyenne Sunrise (Montana Gold, book 2).

    

 

 

Janalyn Voigt fell in love with literature at an early age when her father read chapters from classics as bedtime stories. When Janalyn grew older, she put herself to sleep with tales “written” in her head.

Today Janalyn is a storyteller who writes in multiple genres. The same elements–romance, mystery, adventure, history, and whimsy–appear in all her novels in proportions dictated by their genre.

Learn more about Janalyn Voigt and the books she writes at http://janalynvoigt.com

Website for authors: http://livewritebreathe.com

Sign up for Janalyn’s mailing list: http://janalynvoigt.com/join-e-letter

Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/2KTIDhe

Facebook Author Page: http://www.facebook.com/JanalynVoigt

Goodreads Author Page: http://janalynvoigt.com/goodreads

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Image Attributions:

The heroine of Stagecoach to Liberty plays a hurdy-gurdy like the one in this image by Didier Descouens [CC BY-SA 4.0] from Wikimedia CommonsPainting of a Hessian peasant girl by Neue Galerie, circa 1864-1874 [Public domain]
Wells Fargo stagecoach by Prayitno / Thank you for (12 millions +) view from Los Angeles, USA [CC BY 2.0], via Wikimedia Commons
Part of the story in Stagecoach to Liberty takes place along the Mullan Road, shown in modern times in this image by Ian Poellet [CC BY-SA 4.0], from Wikimedia Commons

And Then He Kissed Me — A Look Back at an Astounding Era — E-book Giveaway

by

Howdy!

I grew up in the 50’s — Okay, I’m giving away my age, but then, probably most of you know I’m a Grandmother — that gives away my age, as well.

Oh, how I loved that Motown sound of the 50’s and 60’s.  Do you remember it?   The Crystals, The Ronettes, Little Anthony?

If you’re too young to remember, come experience the magic of the 50’s music (for us young’ins).  I’m going to leave some links:

The Ronettes, Be My Baby — One of my favorites:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jrVbawRPO7I

How many of you remember the dance names that they are doing in this link?  Can you believe that I do remember?  The main one, I believe, is the Bird, and in the middle they switch briefly to the Jerk.  Oh, how I loved those dances.  Did you?

And for all us romance lovers:  The Crystals, And Then He Kissed Me — http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NUaUIwuU8so

I still know all the words to this song.  Do you?

Me and hubby and a smooch — off to the right here.

Not to be outdone:  Anthony and the Imperials, Hurts So Bad — http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MSF2oLgyV5M

Oh, how I love this song.

Do you remember The Duke of Earl — another song I sing to my Grandchildren:  Gene Chandler and The Duke of Earl:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QQnfooEED8Y

Okay, and how many of you remember the dance those girls are doing in the background?  Would that be the Twine?  I think it is.  Did you do this dance?

And how about Rockabilly — that’s rock and country all in one.  Do you remember the Everly Brothers?  Oh, my gosh, how I loved all their songs:

Here’s one of my favorites — beautiful, romantic, magical — Let It Be Me — http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e2ImS9RBszE — oh, my goodness, I melt when I listen to this

And how about one of their humorous songs:  Bird Dog — just recently I was singing this song to my grandchildren, who laughed and laughed and laughed and couldn’t believe it was an actual song.  So of course I had to find it online and play it for them:  Love this:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=US49tQbYsg0 — When men’s hairstyles defied gravity…

Of course, we can’t leave out The Beatles:  Here’s one of my favorites:  The Things We Said Today — http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6_-NHOPt3Mc

You might argue, that the Beatles are the 60’s — but oh, well, I can’t leave them out — they are probably the most inspirational band of all time.

Here are some of my other favorite Beatles songs:  Love in the Open Air, by James Paul McCartney — A very under rated song that I believe might be the most beautiful song written in the last Century.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ir-Pl4szYOs

And of course, the most beautiful song, in my opinion, from the Album, Revolver:  Here, There, and Everywhere:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xdcSFVXd3MU&index=5&list=OLAK5uy_n9q-ezB2RZF1WS7PR3h3drrTgNCf-DRSk — This, in my opinion, is a runner up for first place in what might be the most beautiful song of the last Century.

What, you might ask, does this have to do with Native American Romance?  Well, perhaps a great deal, in several different ways.  One is always searching for inspiring music to write by — I think we, as authors, often write to music.  And for a lively scene, nothing beats the 50’s and 60’s music in my opinion.  But there is also this little bit of fact:  Did you know that the Native American Men who toured Europe  mirrored the Romantic Inspiration and female response as that of many rock stars?

And why not?  Many of those men were extraordinarily handsome.  All these photos here are of a couple of the men who were with Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show. 

Well, that’s all for today.  Come on in and leave a comment and let me know what you think.

As always, many of us writers are a bit busy and so we depend on your coming to the blog on Wednesday or Thursday to check to see if you are the winner of the Give-away.

And most of all, thank you for coming to the blog today.  And then he kissed me.

 

 

Petticoats & Pistols