Author

Blurb: Shawnee Turner left her home, family and friends to start a new life on a Colorado ranch. When the ranch sold, she was forced to return to her Texas hometown and the job she left behind. Emory Creek owned the sale barn. Anxious for his one true love to return he had to come up with a plan to convince her, he was the man for her.

Short excerpt:

Pool balls clanked together, Alan Jackson bellowed to be propped against the jukebox, while whoops and hollers filtered through the wooden door.

Shawnee and Cheyenne entered the dimness of the Lonely Steer Bar and Grill. They stepped to one side of the door and let their eyes adjust to the darkness then zigzagged through the crowded room to the bar.

“Two cola’s, hot wings, and an order of fries, if you got ‘em,” Shawnee called to the bartender. Shawnee slid a cola in front of Cheyenne.

Food in hand, they wove their way past pool tables, pinball games, and a dartboard to an empty table near the dance floor. A woman escorted her man in their direction, leaning one way and then the other toward them.

“Pick up,” Shawnee reached for her drink and food. Cheyenne followed suit until the intoxicated couple slithered past.

Cheyenne swiveled the straw in the glass. “I’m getting butterflies about tomorrow, Shaw.”

“If it makes things any better, I’m kinda nervous, too. At least we’ll be working together. It’s not like we haven’t been to a sale barn before,” Shawnee tilted her head to the couple shuffling their way to the dance floor.

“I know, just the thought of strange people, good-looking cowboys; you know I’m not comfortable around them anymore.” Cheyenne’s eyes scanned the room. Her last job consisted of working as an unsupervised vet tech.

Shawnee followed her gaze. “You know, most of these guys are wanna-be cowboys and not real ones. They’re gonna be different than the ones you’ll work around.”

“They’re still men. I haven’t been around men in so long they just make me a little jumpy.” Cheyenne glanced as the dance floor filled with couples.

Shawnee twisted to face the bar. A tall, dark-haired man headed in their direction. His slow, easy saunter and broad, muscled chest sent a strange quiver down her spine.

“Yeah, all these guys in here just want to rub belt buckles and have a good time.” She stared as the man’s back pockets tightened across his hips until he took a seat. Leaning across the table, she lowered her voice, “I wouldn’t mind unpacking his saddlebags.”

Meet My Character Martha Harding also known as Mattie O’Sheay.

You are coming to us from a work in progress, how does it feel?

I’m not one to be placing in the spotlight. I will be glad to answer your questions as long as they don’t give away too much.

Where were you born and how did you end up in Texas?

I was born in Chickamauga, Georgia. A few scoundrels killed my father and I followed them here. That is all I can say on that matter since it will be revealed in the story.

What is the name of the story?

Run to Texas is what we are calling it for now.

Why are you going by Mattie O’Sheay?

That is another question I can’t dwell on. I don’t want anyone to know who I really am. If they find out, they may determine my true intentions.

Are you running from the law?

No, but that is the impression I try to give everyone. Let’s leave this for another time, shall we?

Have you met any interesting people during your stay here?

Indeed, I have. Rose Parker owns the boarding house where I am living. She is a very smart woman. Her roses are the most fragrant in the area. Citizens of Linden by them to make their own houses and shops smell exquisite. Rose has some very interesting stories to tell. She should have her own book someday.

Is there anyone else you would care to mention?

I guess I could tell you a little about her son. Don’t get me wrong, he is the most handsome man I have ever known. He is sweet, charming and an all around pain in my backside. Why that man can’t make up his mind whether he wants to kiss or walk away. I have never been so infuriated with anyone as many times as he infuriates me.

How about the people in the boarding house? Anyone of interest staying there?

Yes, the Church’s. They are such a sweet young couple. Truly, if a man and woman belong together it is them. They are from Sweden and have the most intriguing accents. I could sit and listen to them all day and never tire.

Anyone else you care to mention?

I don’t care to mention Mr. Bagwell at all. I can tell you I don’t care for the man. Father used to say “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.” So on that note that topic shall be closed.

Is there anything else you would like to add?

Not at this time. I may have given too much away. Look for the published version to find out more. I need to return to my chores now. I don’t want Rose to think I have been slacking in my duties.

Meet My Character interviews Harvey Morgan today. He is a trapper from Rescued From the River. He agreed to tell his side of the story.

Hello Mr. Morgan. You want to tell your story now is your chance to clear some things up.

Why did you kidnap Emma?

I didn’t kidnap anyone that didn’t want to be.

What? Are you telling me she wanted to be kidnapped?

Yea, she was sittin’ on the banks of that river all lonely like. I figured she needed some company. She wanted to go to the top of the mountain and stay all winter. When I asked her if she liked the place she said it was home to her. She even told me she thought I smelled like a real workin’ man. I don’t know why she hit me with that bottle. I never did nothing to her.

Why did you chase her to the river? I mean if she wanted to stay she wouldn’t have ran off, right?

That was a game a lot of women like to play. You know, playin’ hard to git. Well, I was jest playin’ along when she picked up the rock and clobbered me upside the head.

Sounds to me like she didn’t like playing games with you and wanted to leave.

Aww, now that ain’t so. You may not believe this but the women I take to my cabin beg fer my attention. They always say, “Now Harvey, I love you and all, but I need more of your time.” Well I cain’t jest up and leave my furs out in the traps and spend all day with them. I gotta make a livin’ somehow.

Do you lie a little Harvey?

I’m ‘bout the most honest man you’ll ever meet. I’ll tell you who lies and that’s the thievin’ injun Kale Tucker. Why that man shot that poor gal. I seed it with my own eyes, I did. Then he goes off and blames me. I forgive him though, whatever that means. He tries to steal my furs and my women. He ain’t worth spittin’ on. No siree he ain’t.

Word around the Fort is they all know it’s you who shot Emma and you have killed before you kidnapped her.

You can jest tell them that ain’t so. I ain’t killed a body someone else wouldn’t. Most times it was what’s called protectin’ yore self.

Why did your brother lie for you?

What’s my brother got to do with this? He ain’t nothin’ but a cowardly low life. Tryin’ to make me look like I was a bad brother. He’s the one who kidnapped that woman and all the others and brought ‘em to me. Said they asked to be takin’ up there, thought I was real handsome. Yea that’s what they said.

What kind of childhood did you have?

I reckon the same kind everyone else had. Pa was pirty strick and ma was a hard workin’ woman. She would bring pa his whiskey and he shared it with us kids. He never told ma that. She wanted us to grow up an’ be somethin’. We all did, I’m a trapper, brother is a commander and the girls are all working in saloon’s jest like ma used to.

Thanks for visiting with us today.

You tellin’ me I can go? You’d look awful pirty in my cabin. I think you’d like it, all nice and cozy.

Good bye Harvey.

Meet My Characters interview today joining us from Rescued from the River is Kale Tucker, also known as Silver Hawk.

What was your childhood like?

It wasn’t the worst. Being half white and half Indian has its downfalls. The whites never accepted me. The Indians included me in. They taught me how to survive off the land and all the necessary things. The whites called me names. I didn’t like being around them much. I only go to the Fort where my dad has the trading post. I don’t like the way the men there call my mom Sally. That’s not her name. Her name is Woman With Small Voice. When she is mad, her voice is still small but you know her intentions and she never makes a threat.

I understand you were away from the tribe during the Sand Creek Massacre, is this true?

Yes. It happened on my first hunting trip with the hunt party. When we returned there were men, women and children scattered and mutilated as far as the eye could see. We were camped under a peace treaty with the army. Why would they inflict horror the way they did. It was devastating. I found my two sisters and my brother slaughtered like animals. I sent them on with the Great Spirit, the way my mother would have wanted it. I didn’t find her until later. My father came and told me she was all right.

Why did you become a trapper?

Father owns the trading post at the Fort. Mother and her people taught me to trap at an early age and how to produce a smooth, clean skin for sale. I didn’t want to live in the Fort so Father and I built a cabin on the mountain. That is where I live. It is near the river and I began to set traps. I made good with the trapping so I continued.

Do you know Harvey Morgan?

Unfortunately, better than I want to know him. He is a mean, cruel monster. He has killed many of people when he takes them to the top of the mountain for the winter. I have seen remains of human body once he is done with them. It is sickening. He shot my Bright Eyes when she escaped. I don’t know how she had the strength to hang on but I am thankful she did.

Why didn’t the army do something about Morgan?

His brother was the commanding officer at the Fort. Word is he didn’t want to ruin the family name and overlooked everything Harvey did. The soldiers were spineless when it came time to face the Morgan brothers. I was told they didn’t want to be charged with treason for not following the commanders orders.

In this segment of Meet My Characters, my special guest is Emma Donley. She is also known as Bright Eyes, a name given to her by her husband, Kale Tucker who will be visiting with us today. Welcome Emma.

Good morning Stephy, I am thrilled to be here.

Great. Would you tell us about yourself and your book Rescued from the River?

My mom, dad, two brothers and four sisters are all back east. I am a schoolteacher. They didn’t want me to come to the Wild West. Mom cried for weeks before I left. Dad naturally was upset because mom was crying. I finally talked them into the idea.

I was told of great adventures, beautiful land as far as the eye could see and children in need of a teacher. I cried when I left. I knew I would miss my family and home. Although, the west beckoned for me to come and I couldn’t refuse my need to see these things for myself.

Did you find the adventures you were looking for?

More than I was looking for! The scenery was breathtaking. I had never seen country that would draw you into its beauty.

It says here in the book you were shot, can you tell us a little about that.

A horrible, stinking man by the name of Harvey Morgan seized me from right outside the Fort. Can you believe it? I thought I would be safe with all the soldiers nearby to protect me. Well, I’m here to tell you I wasn’t. Anyway, he hauled me up the side of the mountain and chained me to the wall. I thought I would die in that filthy place, but I managed to escape. By then it was cold and snowing. I ran as far as I could, to the river where I stopped to rest and he found me. I fought with all my might. Then he shot me and pushed me into the river.

That’s when Kale found me and took me to his cabin. His mother Sally, her Cheyenne name is Woman With Small Voice, came to heal me. She is a sweet, feisty woman.

Do you like living on the side of the mountain?

Oh, yes. I couldn’t be happier anywhere else in the world. In the spring when everything is turning green, the fresh smell of the newly melted snow flowing in the river and wildlife present in all different sizes is gorgeous. In the winter, the land and trees pack with sparkling snow, bitter winds whip through rocks and crevices. It can be deadly, but I stay in the cabin and stare out the window for hours.

When you went west, were you looking for a husband?

Not really. I knew there would be a lot of men at the Fort. I hadn’t been there long when things happened. Kale just happened to be one of those things.

Do you have anything else you want to share?

No.

Thank you for dropping by today Emma. I enjoyed our little interview.

Welcome to my world of characters, today my guest is Frank Walling from Lizzie and the Rebel. He has agreed to this interview with the stipulation I ask questions and he answers. Thank you Frank.

1. How did you get on the mountain? I hooked up with my cousins after the war and they led me to that mountain.

2. Where are you from? Texas

3. What is your earliest memory? Mother’s rose gardens

4. What are you afraid of? Women and bullets, they’ll both change your world without notice.

5. Why did you join the war? To fight for my beliefs.

6. When was the last time you cried? Your getting a little personal aren’t you? When I thought Lizzie would die.

7. Have you ever come close to dying? Many times during the war.

8. What’s the last nightmare you recall having? I have a few from the war.

9. Have you ever had your heart broken? Only after I met Lizzie.

10. Have you ever broken another’s heart? Not that I’m aware of.

11. Are you a good spouse? Lizzie thinks so and that’s all that matters.

12. Are you a good parent? I hope someday I will be.

13. Have you ever stolen? No.

14. What was the last lie you told? What kind of questions are these? I would say ‘everythings going to be all right’.

15. What makes you laugh? Lizzie

16. What do you read? In the war it was letters from home. Now whatever Lizzie brings in.

17. Have you ever physically harmed anyone? I was in the war, what do you think?

18. Have you ever saved someone’s life? I don’t think so unless you count carrying their bodies to the hospital.

19. Do you believe in God? yes

20. Do you pray? yes

21. Do you have any superstitions? yes

22. Do you trust easily? no

23. Do you fall in love easily? I only been in love once and that is with Lizzie.

24. What kind of work do you do? Ranching since the war.

25. What secrets are you keeping? Too many to mention. The war keeps a mind from digging things up. Can I go now?

Hi everyone, my name is Elizabeth ‘Lizzie’ George, the one from Lizzie and the Rebel. Stephy Smith said you were interested in knowing about me.

I am a 21 year old half-Cheyenne, half white woman who lives on a mountain. It gets brutal at times in the winter with all the snow whipping around. When I was young, my ma and pa divided our time between the mountain ranch and the mansion in Mountaintown, Colorado. Together they decided my brothers, sisters and I would have the best of both worlds. They hired fine teachers for art, music and our other studies when we were at the mansion. When pa would find orphan’s on the street he would bring them home and give them a job and place to live. In the summer, we stayed on the mountain and my mother’s people taught us about nature, how to protect ourselves, gather herbs and hunt and prepare our food.

Those were good times before the nasty old trapper came in and killed my family… excuse me while I pull myself together. (Wipes nose and dabs the tears from her cheeks.) Now, where was I? Oh yes, I was fifteen when this took place. Everyone at the mansion thought I should stay there with them. Able, my adopted brother never liked the mountain and with him being in the mansion, I chose to return to the ranch. Many times in the last six years trappers tried to steal my land. They knew I was up here by myself, they just didn’t know I could keep them from taking it away from me.

The mountain is a special place. It holds the spirits of my family and ancestors. I can feel them watch me as I check on the cattle or track wild animals. They were there with me when I found the wolf I call Spirit. He had a determination to live like no other wild animal I’ve come across. It was me and him, running wild and free on the mountain until I found the soldiers. I was ready to go to war until I found those men. I let the mountain lion live to rid my part of the mountain of what I believed was an evil trapper. I was surprised to find the men in uniforms.

I loaded the men up on a travois and took them home with me. I didn’t know if Frank was going to make it or not, but I had to try and help him. Spirit took a liking to the man, even if I wasn’t that fond of him at first. He sure was handsome, even when he was icy, muddy and caked with forest debris. When I got that man cleaned up I don’t know what happened. I was in control of my heart and the next thing I know he was. I tried to keep him away from it, my medicine wasn’t as strong as his so he walked right up and stole my heart without a word or a touch. I never let anyone come close to me before. I never realized how lonely I was on the mountain. It was a part of life. I couldn’t risk letting him go.

It all worked out in the end though. He stole my heart and replaced it with his. That was the best gift ever.

The task of self editing to polish and shine your manuscript, the part I refer to as slice, dice and spice, is one of my least favorite things. I do the best I can to make it easier on the editors when my story hits their desk. Before Lizzie and the Rebel was submitted I was in the middle of the 1800's story. The next thing I knew something popped out at me. I don't remember the exact event, but I assure you it wouldn't have happened in the 1800's.

To explain this I have to backtrack a little here. I worked in law-enforcement as a dispatcher for twelve years. Everything spoken over the radio, we wrote on paper. This habit is hard to break because you learn to hear every word around you whether it is on or off the radio.

Now, back to the story of editing. I edited until my eyes burned. I could have been the Firestarter within a matter of seconds. Then a sentence jumped off the page. It slapped me in the face a time or two and screamed "You have got to read this. It does not belong in this story!" Something like 'The pilot made an emergency landing of the jet in the Hudson River.' 

What? The television must have been on. If you seen a jet land in the Hudson River around 1860 or 1870, you need to lay off the peyote or whatever bad chemical you got hold of. Especially if you were in the Rockies of Colorado on a horse. You may also want to stay away from the pure mountain water they used to make their famous beverage with.

By now you are probably wondering what the point of this blog is. Well, I'll tell you. Self editing can save you a lot of embarrassment. It will help spiff up the wip and who knows... you may even find a good laugh in there somewhere.

Happy editing ya'll.

Stephy    

Smoke drifted across the treetops of the snow-covered Rocky Mountains. A strong smell of burned pine trees lingered in the air. Lizzie’s anger engulfed her at the thought of another series of persistent terrorization from trappers who threatened to take over the land.

“It looks like we have visitors, Oro. Better take care of them first and pick up the mountain lion later.” Elizabeth George bent forward and patted the golden stallion on the neck. The sky was a little grayer than it had been in the past half hour.

Danger of men on the mountain brought mixed grief and pain. Aware of the dangers of the mountain storm fueled her determination to keep trappers from taking what, by all rights, was hers. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to stand toe to toe with one of the rude men and she knew it wouldn’t be the last if things worked in her favor. Her eyes nnnarrowed and she squinted against the white ground cover.

She cast one more glance at the paw prints leading to a large boulder. “You, my furry friend, get to live at least one more day. If you follow me, you could have fresh meat for your last meal,” she whispered, and checked the rifle and pistol. With a heave, she pulled the bearskin coat tighter around her neck and spurred the palomino stallion up a rocky, winding trail.

Death of cattle to the mountain lion would be naught. Loss of the land was different. Land, she held close to heart, the land of her mother’s people. The land her family had sacrificed their lives to keep. Their spirits lived on this mountain. She could sense them along the trails, when the trees rustled and the rivers sang with rapid water from winter snow. Everything about the mountain held one spirit or another to reach and guide her on some kind of instructive journey. A lesson to intensify skills each time she re-entered the area.

Always on the lookout, alert to the environment, she watched a fox chase a rabbit into dense underbrush. The wildlife touched her heart and left her smiling. God and the great spirits had always been good to provide joy from the world created. She reached to the heavens, thanked both, and asked for guidance as she moved further up the trail.