What got me and my husband in a four-seat bush plane, repaired with duct tape and leaking from a crack in the weather stripping around the wind-shield, on a rainy day in mid-July?

Gold.

And you thought gold fever only struck those old-timers in California. I can very much assure you the epidemic is alive and well. It struck my husband in Colorado over two decades ago and we have had several flare ups since.

It is no surprise then that my latest western, GOLD RUSH GROOM (Harlequin Historical, September 2011), is set during the Yukon gold rush. My heroine, Lily Shanahan is a hauler who has been unable to secure a partner for the 500 mile trek to the goldfields, until she meets a Greenhorn who is about to lose all he owns to the sea. She offers to rescue his gear if he’ll agree to be her partner until Dawson City.

Unlike Lily and Jack, I never saw the Chilkoot trail, nor did I have to hike 500 miles inland to reach the digging sight. Nope, I had a handy little bush plane with pilot to take me and my husband to the remote gold camp. We got detained in Betttle, Alaska, because of clouds.

Yes, clouds.

Bush plane pilots fly by sight and if the clouds get too low, in this case all the way to the ground, they are blind. When the clouds lifted enough for us to see, the jagged mountains just beyond the wings, we were off again with me in the copilot seat wondering about my own sanity.

We landed, the pilot dumped out our gear with frightening haste and took off again. We could see no host, no cabins, no digging sight, just the runway, lined with the tire marks left by the retreating plane and very distinctive fresh tracks of both a grizzly and a moose.

Now I did my research and read everything I could on Alaska, studied maps, read steamer line advertisements and scrutinized photographs from the time. One of the things I remembered distinctly from my reading was that moose kill more people in Alaska than grizzly. But somehow the idea of being stomped to death by a moose did not hit me with the visceral terror that came at the idea of being mauled by a bear.

We huddled by our gear, in our sweatpants, that we were still wearing due to a series of unfortunate circumstances and delays. The mosquitoes smelled fresh meat. Our bug spray was packed in the buckets we shipped in months ago. Rescue came with our host in a back hoe. Our limo had arrived. He’d heard the plane and come to our rescue. He loaded our suitcases into the bucket of the backhoe and we were pointed to the way to the “short cut” which consisted of two logs tied together over a fast moving stream. The banister was a wet and rotting rope.

Welcome to Alaska!

Even with this culture shock, I was not roughing it compared to those brave souls, like Jack and Lily, who crossed the Chilkoot Trail. I had motorized transportation (bush plane, ATV, backhoe) and I had a cabin with a roof and a screen door designed to hold back the mosquitoes, if not the bears. The cabin even had artwork, a reproduction of a Remmington depicting a cowboy being dragged from is horse by a grizzly.

Are they trying to scare the Greenhorns to death?

Greenhorns and Sourdough are terms you hear a lot in Alaska. Greenhorns being the new arrivals, compared to the newborn sheep or caribou with new horns still “green” with velvet and fuzz. Sourdough comes from the biscuits made by the experienced miners who had survived a winter in the rugged north and enjoyed terrorizing the Greenhorns with lithographs of cowboys being torn off their horses by grizzly bears.

We settled into our cabin and unpacked, then hit the digging sight. I had 24 hours of daylight above the Arctic Circle to think and plot stories as we used our metal dectors to sweep the turned earth for nuggets. We usually only made ten hours of mining before stumbling down the hill again to rest in our cozy, flimsy cabin.

Mornings were still and calm. At least I think it was morning but it was hard to tell as the sun just circles you like a giant ball swung on a string. The mornings were so quiet that you could hear the wings of a raven flying across the valley, so quiet you could hear the owner’s wife cough in her cabin a quarter-mile away, so quiet that when a wind blew through the trees on an early morning that my husband jumped up from bed to see what was happening.

The digging sight was not quite so serene. We had company most days, the owners stopped up, of course, but also a mama Dali sheep and her two twin babies. We met a porcupine and also a very large moose. The bears had good manners and stayed away, possibly because the host had two bear hides on his couch. I asked him if it was difficult to hunt the bear, the remains of which were at that moment behind my head on the backrest of his sofa. He pointed to the front door and said, “The hardest thing about killing that one was waiting for him to step back far enough so I could open the door and shoot him.”

Now that’s some tough character. I didn’t have a high powered rifle but I did bring my Alpha Smart that runs on two double AA batteries and wrote every day. I didn’t miss my computer or email, but I miss the quiet and the beauty of the landscape. I challenge you to find a prettier view from another privy anywhere.

Alaska was an inspiration to me. Not only did I have the idea for Lily and Jack’s story, but it is also where I got my idea for my paranormal series, THE TRACKERS. I was stupid-scared of those grizzlies. I’m sure it is no surprise to you that my first hero was a Skinwalker grizzly bear and my third heroine is a raven. Her story, GHOST WHISPERER (Harlequin Nocturne), arrives December 2011.

I hope my first-hand experience in the north coupled with my overactive imagination adds authenticity to my story.

  

FIRST HEAT
August 2011

My stories are generally set in out-of-the-way places, but for this short ebook, I decided to try mixing the wildness of nature with the wildness of New York City. I love the idea of Skinwalkers taking on the Big Apple and have placed this Nocturne Bites, FIRST HEAT, in one of my favorite sites urban jungles, Greenwich Village.

This is my first story situated in a completely urban location that is familiar territory for me as I have lived outside NYC for many years and make regular visits into Manhattan.

I also a pleased to spotlight the challenges faced by children aging-out of the foster care system. What started as an idea to develop character became much more when I began reading the stories of young people around the country who are one day too old for group homes but also not quite adults. The challenges of trying to stay in school, or navigate the morass of financial aid for college or even trying to find employment and obtain a decent place to live is daunting.

My heroine, Lena Coble, knows there’s something different about her but she tries to fit in. Aged-out of foster care and on her own, she finds herself pursued by eight male Skinwalkers who can change from man to wolf. Each one has come to battle for the right to claim her as an unfamiliar desire takes hold of her. One man is familiar, Hunter Ortiz, the boy she once loved, the dangerous stranger he has become. Hunter has returned for Lena, to save her from the others, but fears she has become like all females Skinwalkers he has met, excited to have males spill their blood to earn the right to take them. Only after the battle, does he realize that Lena does not know who and what she is.

This story was very intense to write and came very quickly. The idea of having a female wolf Skinwalker come into heat for the first time appealed to me on a gut level. As a foster child with no knowledge of her parentage, Lena does not know what is happening to her. Most of us recall our turbulent teen hears with a mixture of nostalgia and chagrin, because most of us had parents backing us up, trying to get us to shape up and generally guiding us from childhood to adulthood. That makes us very lucky. Imagine navigating that journey solo.

I’ve never written about two such young heroes, but enjoyed recalling youthful passion coupled with confusion. I hope I’ve captured some of the fear and uncertainty Lena experiences in her journey and the strong protective instinct she raises in Hunter.

I wish I could have included more about Greenwich Village and Washington Park, two of my favorite haunts in NYC. When setting the scene where Lena flees from the wolf pack, I had the opportunity to walk the very street and map out her flight. When writing, I had to stop myself from side-tracking into a travel log because I love the narrow twisted streets in this section of the city, laid down before the perfectly sensible grid of avenues and numbered streets that begins after Bleeker.

One of the things I love most about NYC is that I never know what I’m going to see even when walking familiar ground. Washington Park is always alive with entertainment and great people-watching opportunities. I’m not the only one who thinks highly of the Village. On one trip, I was delayed for President and Mrs. Obama’s first visit to NYC. Their motorcade went right up Avenue of the Americas (6th Avenue) as I was trying to get to a specialty bookstore. They were on their way to a favorite restaurant of theirs.

If you are interested in reading more about the foster care system please visit the PBS website site AGING OUT. And for more on FIRST HEAT and my upcoming December Nocturne release, GHOST WHISPERER, visit me at my web home, www.jennakernan.com

So what is your favorite NYC spot?

I’m so excited to bring you book two in the TRACKERS series.

The hero, Nicholas Chien, made his appearance in DREAM STALKER as Sebastian’s best friend. It’s not easy for a wolf to get close to a grizzly bear, but Nick is an unusual Skinwalker. Finding his mate was more difficult. I knew she needed to be a healer, because Nick is wounded by ghosts and recognizes his attackers are using him to find Sebastian and his wife, the last Seer of Souls. But what kind of healer is she and what is her gift? I knew only that she must be from the enemy race, Niyanoka, who loathe all Skinwalkers.

One of the most challenging problems that I faced in writing this story was how to keep the hero and heroine from ever touching. If they touched, they would have instantly known that they are soul mates. In the beginning, I accomplished this with rubber gloves and clothing, work gloves, etc. But that can only go on so long. How was I to have them be intimate and not touch?

And then I came up with the solution. I made my heroine a dreamwalker, a person who heals by visiting a person’s dreams and using their own bodies to repair themselves and/or address mental illness. This way my heroine could visit Nick’s dreams and then breech all her ethics by making love to him. This breech has terrible consequences for them both AND they still haven’t touched!

This was great fun to write, because unlike Michaela Proud, who did not know she was a Niyanoka or what that entailed, Jessie Healy is a staunch member of her community with everything to lose if she is discovered harboring the enemy.

I hope you love Nick and Jessie as much as I do and I look forward to hearing from you.

Look for SOUL STALKER, book three in the Trackers series, in December 2011 when I finally got to write about Bess, the raven Skinwalker who is one of my all-time favorite characters.

Read an excerpt of Ghost Stalker.

This book began as many of my ideas do, with the inciting incident. I had a clear picture of a woman running from a conductor and the law, but didn’t know the who or why. It seemed obvious that she should fall into the hands of the town sheriff and suddenly I had my first mistaken identity story. I was taking two adult education baking classes as I wrote about my heroine learning to cook. Unlike my heroine I am a good cook and a better than average baker. But it has been a long learning curve. The scene where the sheriff retrieves the flaming cake and tosses it into the snow comes from a very clear memory of mine, when my mother started a grease fire on the kitchen stove. My father used a dishtowel to snatch up the skillet and ran with it through the house before hurling it out into the snow. That is an image emblazon in my mind! As for Addie, her reluctance to love Eliza and then her complete captivation by her comes from having being a babysitter for all my adolescence. There was always the initial awkwardness and sizing up, but all the kids I had warmed up under a little love and attention.

While my family doesn’t follow the German traditional reveal of the Christmas tree (probably because we are from the British Isles). I do take pride in my tree and ornament collection. I have been gathering carousel ornaments all my adult life and was so excited when Beyers began their annual collection. And though my family no longer goes out to cut down a tree, that special time of my childhood always seems to find its way into my holiday stories. It just wouldn’t be Christmas without that.

Read an excerpt of Western Winter Wedding Bells.

Since the minute I finished HIGH PLAINS BRIDE, May 2007, I knew I had to tell Lucie West’s story. She was such a vibrant character. Readers apparently agreed, because I received a great deal of fan mail asking me when I was going to write about her. As the daughter of Sarah & Thomas West, Lucie spent a year as a captive of a Sioux Warrior, Eagle Dancer. She was fourteen and tried unsuccessfully throughout that time to escape him. She managed to stay alive, but was tattooed on her chin and upper arms during her captivity.

I modeled her experience and tattoos on the famous Olive Oatman who was captured in 1875 by Mohave Indians. Olive did wear the marks for all of her life and I tried to imagine what her life must have been like as a result. I did not make Lucie’s captivity a romantic adventure, but portrayed her ordeal as accurately as I could. At the same time, I kept in the back of my mind the possibility that her captor, Eagle Dancer, might be a likely hero for her story. With that notion, I wrote him to treat Lucie with tenderness and affection. Even so, something felt wrong about the match, but I couldn’t lay my finger on it.

I contemplated inventing a new man and a new setting for Lucie’s tale and even considered having her ride with Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show, until I did the math and realized the timeline would not work.

I wanted to revisit my characters to see them before and after the Great Sioux Wars. I’d decided that Lucie would return to the plains. The answer of who might be the hero came in a letter from a reader who asked if I would be writing Lucie West’s and Sky Fox’s story. Sky Fox was a boy who escaped from the Sioux and provided proof that Lucie was alive. Somehow I had not considered him but decided he would be perfect. They have a shared experience, to some extent, and would understand each other. Still it took me a little while to give up on Eagle Dancer.

Ultimately, his obsession with Lucie, his unwillingness to release her and his inability to protect her from his vicious mother made him unacceptable to me as a hero. But his neat combination of good and bad traits does make him the perfect tragic figure for this story.

I hope that readers will enjoy this return to the Great Plains with Lucie West and Sky Fox.

Read an excerpt of His Dakota Captive.

DREAMS, NIGHTMARES, MYTHS and a PUFFIN NAMED SEBASTIAN

Funny how unrelated things can all come together and did in my debut paranormal DREAM STALKER.

NIGHTMARES:

Let me begin by saying that my heroine’s inability to escape from nightmares comes, in part, from my childhood experiences. When I was young and had a high fever, I had terrible nightmares. They frightened me as much as they frightened my mother, because she was often unable to wake me. I don’t get fevers like that anymore, but, as you can see, I’m still haunted by these dreams and DREAM STALKER is the result.

Taking those experiences, I wondered what might happen if a nightmare crossed through the veil from my subconscious and chased me into my waking reality. The thought sends a shiver down my spine. Then I added to that, the possibility that no one would believe me and that my own doctors might think me mad. All delusional people think their delusions are real. Don’t they? But what if they really were? Who would help me then?

All this scariness gave me my heroine’s dilemma for my December 2009 release from Silhouette Nocturne.

DREAMS:

I’m not sure if the premise of nightmares coming to life came first or if my dream did. They are now so entwined that I cannot separate them. But I can tell you that I was mulling over my editors suggestion that I try writing a paranormal one evening before bed. When I woke the next morning, I had the first three pages of DREAM STALKER in my mind. I rolled over, reached for a pad and started scribbling. What you read is very little changed from what I recalled. So, I knew my heroine is being chased by something that she and everyone else thinks is a dream, but that is so much more.

What I didn’t know was what was after her and why it wanted her. Those questions took me most of the book to figure out, so I won’t spoil them here.

But she does learn that nightmares are real when her ghostly stalker attacks her. She is rescued by my hero, Sebastian, a shapeshifting Grizzly bear.

MYTHS:

Many of you are familiar with my Western romances. My research for these stories, particularly HIGH PLAINS BRIDE and my work in progress, DAKOTA SKY, led me to read a great deal about Lakota Myth. I’ve been reading many of this culture’s stories of creation and the like. Here I found the Skin Walker, a dark, dangerous supernatural shapeshifter who can take any form, including animal and human.

This seemed like fertile ground to plant my ideas, so when my heroine was injured it seemed natural to choose an animal that the Lakota attribute with healing powers. This is why it is a grizzly bear-shifter who rescues Michaela.

But why in the world did I name a native character after a Christian saint? Well that leds me to…

PUFFINS:

Sebastian, my larger than life Skinwalker Grizzly bear has an interesting origin. When in Alaska, I went to Alaska SeaLife Center at Mile 0 of the Seward Highway in Seward, Alaska. There I met Sebastian, a very curious, affectionate yearling puffin who decided to leave his enclosure to come and meet me. He nibbled the brim of my ball cap and preened my hair. The keeper told me all about Sebastian attaching himself to people because he was orphaned and hand-raised. I fell in love with that little bird and spent much of my two days in Steward there at the Maritime Center. I just knew that wonderful little bird would end up in one of my stories. I just never suspected he’d morph a one pound bird to a 1400 pound bear.

So that is how my Skinwalking Grizzly bear got his name. I still think about the morning I spent with the original Sebastian and wonder if he ever thinks of me.

For those of you who are interested in more about the blending of my imagination and Native myth, I have added the terminology that will appear in my next book—GHOST STALKER.

Click here to read the Termonology (doc).

Read an excerpt of Dream Stalker.

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SIERRA BRIDE
August 2009

I did not have to look very far for the inspiration for SIERRA BRIDE, because he was right there in the pages of my last story OUTLAW BRIDE. He is a character who tried very hard to steal the story from Cole and Bridget in my last Western, but I fended him off. Readers may remember Cole Ellis’ partner, Sam Pickett. Cole wondered at Sam's tendency to throw himself against the mountain again and again. This story I have a chance to explore Sam’s psyche. He is a survivor of a wagon train trapped by early snows. He and Cole part two of the very few male survivors. It was very interesting to have a hero who is an example of succeeding in the American dream. Sam arrived in California with nothing and became the owner of the biggest gold mine in the state. Outwardly he appears to have everything except a wife.

I had a great deal of fun giving Sam the mission of closing the pass that nearly cost him his life. Finally Sam can throw himself at the mountain with purpose. Making Sam transition from a hermit like mine owner in the last story to a successful railroad baron made for an interesting journey. Along the way I learned about the complicated undertaking of building it transcontinental railroad. I read about land grants and congressional legislation, studied proposed routes and logistical conundrums. After my research I am thoroughly amazed that the project was ever completed. I tried to give readers a flavor for the building of a railroad without getting bogged down in minutia. I did truly enjoy researching private rail cars and looking at photos of the elaborate excess and craftsmanship that , I’m afraid, will never come again. Sumptuous doesn’t do them justice and I’m sure my descriptions haven’t either.

For my heroine I created a princess in a tower. Kate Wells has built herself a fortress after surviving a very bad marriage from which she escaped through the untimely death of her husband. Her late husband enjoyed showing her off as an ornament and using her in his business dealings. Hardship forces Kate to accept Sam's offer of becoming his mistress and opened a door for me to create a pampered pet with full wardrobe and accessories. Those of you who read my stories will see what a departure this was for me. My heroines are more than likely to be dressed in a buckskin shirt and then in a fine velvet riding habit with matching hat and veil. I had such fun exploring websites that sell gorgeous antique jewelry and reading through my period Harpers Review to see what properly dressed ladies were wearing in the summer of 1862. The gold filigree necklace complete with five gold rosettes which plays such an integral role in the plot is an actual period piece that I found online, which has unfortunately sold. No, not to me! I have to say this is the heroine who made me jealous of her wardrobe, but not her corset!

Finally a personal note. Some of my readers may wonder how I got the idea of Phoebe’s character, the little sister blinded by diphtheria that her older sister contracted first. Kate lives in a state of guilty remorse for causing this and the death of her infant sister, Mary. This story comes from family lore. My mother told me this story when I was a grown woman. Her grandfather, my great-grandfather, Ramsdale Cunningham first contracted diphtheria, just like my character and did give it to his younger sister, Phoebe, who died of the illness. My mother believed that he ‘felt responsible for his sister’s death all his life.’ The family tragedy was too full of conflict to ignore, but I couldn’t kill Phoebe, as I had planned.

Read an excerpt of Sierra Bride.

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OUTLAW BRIDE
February 2008

This story began with a premise, a ‘what would happen if…’ question. I wondered what could make a law-abiding citizen so desperate she would break a complete stranger out of jail the day before he hanged.

The idea was very intrigued to me. I thought about it a lot. I imagined a scene where a woman lifts the sheriff’s keys and get the condemned man out. But why? I decided she needed him to save her family but where could they be that no one else could or would help her and what talents did my hero have that made him so indispensible?

The reason she needed him and much of his backstory came to me all at once. She wanted him to rescue her family stranded by snow in the mountains. This gave me my setting—California, specifically, the Cascade Mountains. I’ve been fascinated with the Donner Party for some time. It seemed obvious to have my hero be a surviving member of that doomed wagon train. Only a very few men survived that misadventure and some of them were the ones who walked out to get help. That would give him the experience he needed to be indispensible to my heroine and if I made his initial rescue attempt to save his family an unsuccessful one, then he’d have a lot of interesting baggage to work through. But there was that tricky cannibalism question. I was very tempted to have him be wracked by guilt over having partaken of human flesh, but worried that readers might not be able to forgive him that. So in the end I made a compromise. You’ll have to read the story to find out what that might be.

I needed to change many facts about the Donner Party to make my story work and because I did not want to mix my fiction with fact, I chose to create the fictional Broadner Party, which is very strongly based on the Donner’s tragic journey. I used much of the actual events including things like the oxbows that the party used to devised makeshift snow shoes. The party who departed the main group for Sutter’s Mill did, indeed, call themselves ‘The Forlorn Hope’ and were largely composed of desperate mothers trying to gain help for their children left behind and servants who had no supplies or wagons of their own. The name was too tragic and wonderful not to use.

As for my initial envisioning of the opening scene, it had to be greatly changed when I began to do my research. My heroine could not steal the keys to the jail from the sheriff, because at that time Sacramento didn’t have a jail. In fact, they had just got around to electing a sheriff the year my story begins, but he was shot and killed in the Squatter’s Riots. More distressing was learning that a major character in my story, the mayor of Sacramento, was also shot and killed. That made his re-election concerns rather anticlimactic. But I decided to ignore this historical detail, as well.

So how did Sacramento keep their prisoners, if not in a jail? They used prisons brigs. The Gold Rush brought so many people to California so fast (half a million in only five years) that the new municipality could not keep up. Some ship crews even abandoned their vessels upon arriving in San Francisco, lured away by the promise of the goldfields. At least two of these rotting ships were commissioned into use as floating jails. The prison brig, Strafford, was moored on the Sacramento River in 1849. The ships’ owners rented the vessel to the county as a prison. I changed the Strafford to the Stafford, but otherwise used what details I could find. I’m so glad my research wanderings brought me to the prison brigs because I consider that old ship to be a very important character in this story.

Finally, I’d just like to mention this story’s ending, without revealing it. With this one I really painted myself into a corner and had no earthly idea how to orchestrate a happy ending. After spending three-quarters of the book creating insurmountable difficulties, I just didn’t know how to fix things. I had considered having the heroine break the hero out of jail again, but that seemed too easy and the notion of my hero and heroine spending the rest of my life on the run was unacceptable, to say the least.

I pondered and pondered what could possibly work. I hope you like what I came up with and find the ending as satisfying as I do.

Read an excerpt of Outlaw Bride.

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A WESTERN WINTER WONDERLAND
FALLEN ANGEL
October 2007

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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