I was recharging my battery last weekend. That’s writer’s lingo for ‘goofing off.’ We like to say it is ‘refilling the creative well,’ but I was at The Big E, Eastern States Exposition, so I was actually refilling my stomach with fair fare.

My very first Christmas novella arrived in time to fill some stockings in 2007. The anthology with Cheryl St.John and Pam Crooks is called A WESTERN WINTER WONDERLAND. The cover is lovely, with violet and gold background and a handsome church in the foreground.

In the center of this massive group state fair is a museum consisting of a cluster of historical buildings set up to resemble a village green. Storrowton Village Museum includes displays, exhibits and reenactments of daily life. This is my second favorite part of the fair. The first being the maple syrup flavored cotton candy that is available in the Vermont and New Hampshire buildings.

Anyway, I was in the center of the green and I noticed the meeting house, build in 1835. It looked vaguely familiar, so I took a photo, and then realized the historical structure had a shocking resemblance to the church on the cover of A WESTERN WINTER WONDERLAND. There was one very startling difference. The church on the cover has a traditional cross on its spire, but the meeting house is topped with a weathervane sporting a gold chicken.

This story was inspired by my family’s annual pilgrimage to find the perfect Christmas tree. We didn’t go to a tree farm, but searched our hillside and what we came up with was usually two feet too large with major gaps between branches, but it always looked dazzling to me. I also thought it would be fun to put a man who makes his living hunting and killing men (bounty hunter) into a role of caretaker as a way to help him reconnect with the meaning of the holiday and the importance of love and family. Having the hero shoot the heroine by accident made him responsible to clean up his mess and fall in love, of course.

My setting was a fun challenge. Once I knew my story started with an ambush and ended with a hotel built in the 1880s, I went hunting for a snowy town with good places for getting the drop on the enemy and with a hotel in close proximity. I came up with Durango and the historical Strater Hotel. I liked the look and sound of this establishment so much I named my hero after it. Ford Statler is a derivation. What I learned from their website was that some rooms had pianos and found that detail very easy to work into a holiday story. The three-story privy was more difficult and I didn’t find a way to smoothly include that!

Read an excerpt of A Western Winter Wonderland.

top

HIGH PLAINS BRIDE
May 2007

I conceived the opening five pages to this story in their entirety one Saturday morning when I floated in that state between dreaming and waking. The dialog, the setting, even the smell of the hero’s shaving cream came to me clearly.

I didn’t write it down right away, but the story stayed with me. I kept wondering what had caused these two to separate. I don’t usually begin writing until I have much of the major plot points worked out and with this snippet I didn’t know why this woman was holding this man at gunpoint, why she never told him he had a daughter or why she hated him enough to shoot him. I had to work all that out with my conscious mind and that took a while.

I wrote the opening from memory a few days later using my Alpha smart, in the car, while my husband drove. I still didn’t know all the details, but did know that the child had been captured by Sioux and that there was a ton of backstory between these two characters. I tried to make the issues between them strong enough that I did not have to resort to misunderstanding. These two discover right off the bat what happened way back when. The story is about dealing with the fall-out of past mistakes.

Knowing that the couple’s daughter had been captured lead me to research. I read everything I could find on white captives including, The Captivity of the Oatman Girls, by Lorenzo and Olive Oatman, 1875 and My Captivity Among The Sioux Indians by Fanny Kelly, 1864. This second work was of great help, as it told a captive’s story first hand. Much of Miss Kelly’s struggle is included in Lucie’s tale. I sometimes found it frustrating that Miss Kelly left out the details of everyday life. The hows and whys of things were missing. Perhaps they were too obvious to her to merit inclusion. I had to remember she was a captive, not a historian, dutifully recording the rituals and practices of daily life. She does give a rare glimpse of Sioux life, filtered through the eyes of a young girl who thought the Indians were savages and less than whites. I was most struck her attitude, which we now would consider extreme racism, but I was also impressed by her will to survive. It is my opinion that she lived because of her intelligence, quick thinking and her ability to endure what many could not. From the Oatman girls, I learned about tattooing. They were not captured by Sioux, but by Mohave. Olive did wear the marks of her captivity all her life. I wondered a lot about that, trying to imagine how hard her life must have been as a result. I studied a famous photo of Olive Oatman, dressed very properly, and standing for a portrait, with her tattoos bearing silent witness to her ordeal. After some digging, I discovered that some Sioux did use tattoos and so, it was possible to include this aspect of captivity in my story. I tried very hard not to make Lucie’s captivity a romantic adventure or trivialize this experience, but to portray her imprisonment as the harrowing ordeal it must have been.

My research also included everything I could find on the great Sioux leader, Crazy Horse, who did, in fact, lead an audacious raid on Fort Laramie, much as denoted in my story. I further delved into the construction of Fort Laramie and Deer Creek Fort and daily life in the cavalry at the west. I studied the construction of teepees and the work of women in the Sioux camps. The women did the lion’s share of the physical labor, a difficult life made more difficult by the numerous raids by cavalry that necessitated frequent moves.

I hope my historical research lends a note of authenticity to the tale set in a time of extreme turbulence for both the whites and the Sioux. I tried to fairly include the horror experienced by both sides during this bloody war.

I did not need to research quilt making, as quilting has been a passion of mine for sometime. I’ve created many of my own quilts as well as buying unfinished quilt tops and completing them. I find it satisfying to complete the work of other women as well as finishing my own, though I am sure that when I move on, there will be many unfinished quilt tops left behind. Though I have not created a Flower Basket quilt, like Sarah, I have made a sampler quilt that included this pattern. I have also created many quilts for many members of my family and have created a baby quilt for each of my nieces and nephews.

Story telling, like quilt making, is time consuming, but it is also a labor of love. I hope you enjoy the efforts of this labor as much as I enjoyed creating it for you.

Read an excerpt of High Plains Bride.

top

HIS BROTHER'S BRIDE
From the collection: WED UNDER WESTERN SKIES
May 2006

When my editor invited me to be included in an upcoming anthology, she made two stipulations: The tale must include a bride and the setting must be somewhere in the West.

Where, oh, where to set my bride? I considered several areas that I have visited, but in the end I picked a place I just loved -- Cripple Creek, Colorado. Once called Colorado City, this mining town was the gateway to the goldfields. While doing research, I discovered that Colorado Avenue was once a dividing line between the respectable side and the disreputable side of the city. Upstanding citizens would not be seen crossing Colorado to the forbidden Southside.

But how do you get to all those wonderful saloons and dens of iniquity if you had a reputation to uphold?

Several owners of the more scandalous establishments in this boomtown came up with a creative solution by constructing tunnels beneath the street so their patrons could come and go with anonymity. Once I discovered this odd historical footnote, I found it irresistible and had to include it in this story.

My bride and groom are a mismatched team. She is a minister’s widow with a secret to keep, and he is a dark horse with a shadowy past and a reputation that is all bad. This guy would have no problem marching across Colorado Avenue at high noon.

Did I mention that they have never met?

While writing this story, I got to thinking about my own wedding. I was a happy bride. But that is not always the case. Many marriages are forged out of necessity and so it is for Clara and Nate Justice. He has a promise to keep and she, a daughter to protect. But this is romance and bad beginnings only add spice to the sauce. Thankfully, Clara knows how to cook and she’s not bad in the kitchen either!

This story was a joy to write. I hope you will consider this my invitation to you to attend this most unusual western wedding. No -- you do not need to bring a shotgun.

Read an excerpt of His Brother's Bride.

top

THE TRAPPER
September 2005

Some of you know I am a big fan of birds. Ravens, robins, you name it, I love it. So it seemed natural to take an interest in another bird fan, John James Audubon. Audubon isn’t just a society; first, he was a naturalist and painter, most famous for creating the original coffee table book entitled, The Birds of America. He also created a collection of paintings for a less known book was called Viviparous Quadrupeds of North of America. Once, in 1843, Audubon hauled a band of artists up the Missouri River by steam ship in an ambitious attempt to capture western American wildlife. This is the point where my interest in birds turned into a realization that I had stumbled on a really interesting period in history.

I was fascinated by the thought of these artists/naturalists amidst trappers, Plains Indians, traders, the army and, of course, wild animals. I think the artists realized that the buffalo were not the only thing disappearing. Some painters, including Karl Bodmer and George Caitlin, recorded images of many Indians in an effort to leave a record of a vanishing way of life. There must have been a sense of urgency, a compulsion to capture in paint something bigger than themselves.

From these images I developed the notion of creating a female artist alone on the Yellowstone River ---a wealthy, educated and refined fish out of water. The idea was too tempting! For her hero, I created a man who was intimately connected with the way of life and people on the plains – a scout with native blood and a great reason to hate women like my heroine.

Eleanor Hart was a blast to write. She arrives by steamer with enough luggage to kill three mules. Despite her rigorous preparations, she is unprepared for the Yellowstone. She discovers her inner strength along the way, but really would prefer a comfortable bed and a personal chef. She is all frills and fashion, while he is all Spartan economy and utility. Writing about such polar opposites was great fun and added an element of humor that kept me laughing.

Did you know Audubon had a farm on the Hudson River on what is now the northern tip of Manhattan? I am lucky to live close enough to NYC to visit the New York Historical Society to learn more about this American legend. The museum has a complete collection of Audubon’s paintings from his The Birds of America. What a thrill to see his brush strokes on the page!

While walking through his fascinating museum, I came across a very beautifully etched bodkin, the centerpiece of a woman’s corset. It was so lovely and so sturdy; I got to wondering if such a wedge of ivory would be strong enough to stop an arrow? I’m not sure that it would, but it certainly was an inspiration piece. It is a great example of how one research mission can unearth something the author can also use. Did I have to visit Audubon’s painting to write THE TRAPPER? I’m not sure. But I feel my life is richer from having seen them.

Read an excerpt of The Trapper.

top

TURNER'S WOMAN
March 2005

During my research, I found some evidence that, in the 1830’s, the U.S. government may have used sea captains, trappers and scouts to gather intelligence on the Mexican-held territory of California. President Andrew Jackson wanted California for the U.S. I find it extremely plausible that he would turn to covert efforts to make that happen.

The Mexicans were understandably suspicious. When Jedehiah Strong Smith and his band of fifty well-armed trappers arrived in the fertile plains of California in 1827, the Mexican stronghold immediately arrested Smith. The Mexican officials could not believe that anyone could cross over the impassible Sierra Nevada. Had his force of men not been so formidable, he might very well have been transported to Mexico City. He was released on the stipulation that he immediately cross back the way he came. But the Mexicans gave no escort and Smith, being the explorer that he was, ventured far north and only left when they sent the army after him.

Spanish California is a fascinating piece in our country’s history and one with which is rarely visited in romance. The early missionaries and rancheros are legendary and create the perfect setting for a sweeping adventure. I got so caught up in this time, I read Richard Henry Dana’s TwoYears Before the Mast, which provided a first hand account of a merchant seaman’s visit to southern California in the 1836-7.

The son of a wealthy attorney, Dana went to sea to strengthen his eyesight. He was a rarity on a merchant ship, an educated, literate man. It was from reading his first-hand account of Mexican California that I learned that untanned cattle hides were called “Mexican dollars” and that the thrifty, industrious New Englanders thought Californians a lazy, decadent people.

First-hand accounts are invaluable to my work. They give a sense detail, insight and information that is not always available in historical work. This time and place was so engrossing, it was difficult to lay aside my reference books and write the story.

I loved exploring this period and hope my readers will enjoy riding along with Jake and Emma to this exotic and unfamiliar local.

Read an excerpt of Turner's Woman.

top

WINTER WOMAN
September 2003

I discovered the inspiration for this story long before I ever thought of being a romance writer. During a cross-country trip with my husband, I stopped in a trading post near Cripple Creek, Colorado, and picked up a book about women in the west called The Gentle Tamers by Dee Brown.”

One story in it particular fascinated me. It stuck in my mind and went round and round. It raised more questions than gave answers.

In 1849, a woman named Janette Riker headed across country with her father and brother. When their wheel broke in a mountain meadow, the train moved on leaving them to make necessary repairs. This, in itself, was not very unusual. Wagon team members kept up or were left behind. For the Rikers, this mishap was followed by calamity. Her father did not want to begin the dangerous trip into the Sierra Nevadas without adequate food, so he and his son went hunting, leaving Janette alone with the oxen. Her men never returned.

Can you imagine waiting for your men, in vain, beside a broken wagon? I couldn’t get that image out of my head.

With winter approaching, Janette Riker built a shelter and topped it with the canvas from the wagon. She collected wood, then slaughtered and salted her oxen without benefit of a firearm. Over the bitter winter, she survived blizzards, wolves, mountain lions and near starvation. In the spring, she was rescued by an Indian hunting party. These men were so impressed with her surprising survival that, instead of killing her, they transported her to the closest fort. That is all I could find about Miss Riker.

I kept wondering how this experience would change a woman, and the idea for WINTER WOMAN was born. My fictitious tale begins where the real story ends, at the point Janette leaves her mountain meadow.

So what happens when a brave, half-starved woman, whose only wish is to go home, is forced upon a solitary trapper who wants nothing more than to be left alone? Together, they face nature’s wilds and the fears buried in their hearts.

I’ve answered all the questions I had except one. What would Janette Riker think of this story I invented from her own tale of survival?

Read an excerpt of Winter Woman.

top