That Sweet Old Familiar Feeling by Jeanmarie Hamilton

Earline Barnes oil painting "Floral"
gives me that sweet old familiar feeling

It isn’t just about love. The title of my blog this month can apply to many things. It could be a favorite home, a vacation spot, a park, a beach, or anywhere. It could apply to a comfortable chair, bed, etc. It could be a beloved object of some kind, a piece of china that belonged to your family, or grand parents, or someone close to you, or that you’ve seen somewhere. It could be a book, or characters in a book, or a setting in a book. It could be a movie, or a play, or someone who entertains you. It could be a painting, a sculpture, or anything. What gives you that sweet old familiar feeling?

I’m thinking about books, stories, and characters today. I love to read romances, stories with a happily ever after feeling. I’ve read lots of romances over the years that I’ve been reading romances. I’ve read single title romances that don’t have characters which continue in a similar story in a follow-up book, and I’ve read series romances which have returning characters along with new characters in all of the books in the series. The setting stays pretty much the same too. But I have to say that for me it’s the returning characters that give me that sweet old familiar feeling.

 You know that feeling. When it comes to books, the feeling makes me want to curl up in my favorite chair with a cup of coffee or a soda, and some chocolate, and settle in to read for hours. I feel like I know the characters in the story, and I know how they’ll react. It’s a warm fuzzy feeling that makes me comfortable, like I’m returning to a favorite place I’ve enjoyed before. It’s as if I can take a deep breath, because the characters are people I know and love. They’re good friends within the pages of a story, and I know how they will behave. It’s a good feeling. Have you had that sweet old familiar feeling while reading?

Since I discovered that I like to read series stories with returning characters, I’ve decided to write series stories. I want to give readers of my stories that same sense of the sweet old familiar when they discover characters they’ve known and enjoyed in previous stories I’ve written.

Do you have a favorite series that gives you that feeling?

I have a new novella coming out July 25, next week, that is part of a new series I’m writing. The series is Hondo, Texas Wolves, and this novella is the second book in the series. It’s titled "Guardian of Her Dream."

You can find it at Siren BookStrand Publishing, under my author name, Claire Adele.

I wish you stories to curl up with and read.

Jeanmarie Hamilton
                 
http://www.JeanmarieHamilton.com
aka Claire Adele
Hondo, Texas Wolves
Wolves of West Texas

GETTING TO KNOW JEANMARIE HAMILTON

Jeanmarie Hamilton

aka Clare Adele

By the age of six years, I knew I wanted to write stories. My inspiration at that age came from nap-time stories my Texas grandmother often told us kids about her life growing up in Texas, as well as the children’s stories she made up. My mother’s afternoon reading to us also inspired me. She read all the Wizard of Oz books to us, as well as all the Raggedy Ann books. There were other fantasy stories she read to us that had to do with the adventures of human children and fairies. The illustrations were beautiful and as important to me as the printed page.

My school teachers inspired and encouraged me to write. My fourth grade teacher read the Black Stallion books to us while we rested after lunch at school. She inspired me to write horse stories. I entered a grade school writing contest and came in second in the finals. That was great encouragement. My mom has kept that story all these years. J My dad wrote a local newspaper gardening column that was put into a book form. I was so proud of him. In high school I wrote a dark poem about a man and woman. My sophomore English teacher gave me an A, and commented that the tone was very grown up, or something like that. I’ve always found my strongest writing to flow at night. Good thing, since I’ve always been a night owl.

My daughter kept me so busy that I didn’t have enough time to write when she was little. I painted and sketched instead. Being a lover of horses, I could never get enough of them, so I sketched and painted photos of horses. With my daughter and then the family garden center keeping me busy until she graduated from college, I tried to write, but never finished the books I started. I may yet. Those characters intrigued me.

When Wal Mart and Home Depot, etc., moved into town, our family garden center had to close. We hated to shut the doors, and still miss our customers. Holidays and decorations and flowers were the most fun times.

Meanwhile, my mom suggested we write a romance. I wanted to write a western so I could have horses in the story, and Mom wanted to write a time-travel. We compromised and incorporated both ideas into our story. It is a good story, but that was before I had honed my writing technique. We finally put it aside after many rejections from publishers.

I wanted to write another western without the paranormal elements, and my mom decided to go back to her oil painting classes which she had to give up while we had the garden center. Today, she’s an accomplished landscape artist.

I found my passion for writing historical romance, and it’s been a wonderful roller coaster ride, sometimes threatening my sanity and most often saving it and bringing me great friends.

My mom would love for me to take time off from writing to paint with her. Along with my mom, I’ve studied with Earline Barnes, as well as the books and dvds of another favorite artist, Kevin Macpherson. I’ve found that there are so many similarities between writing and oil painting. When I need a break I dabble a while in oils. But after a short while, a character is nagging at me to write a story. So back I go to the blank page, waiting for my characters to tell me their stories and inspire me.

I love to write and will keep writing with the encouragement of my readers and friends. I’ve enjoyed writing western historical romance. I know I have another one waiting to be told. My first western historical took me on a wild ride in the American Title II contest. SEDUCTION has since been published. ARE YOU GOING TO THE DANCE? followed in an EPIC Award placing anthology, NORTHERN ROSES AND SOUTHERN BELLES, published by Wild Rose Press. Next came DANGEROUS PERSUASION, an erotic western historical romance published by Siren BookStrand with my new writing name, Claire Adele.

I’ve also discovered the fun of writing werewolf western historical and contemporary romances. MOONLIGHT DESPERADO, writing as Jenette DuPris, was my first werewolf novella. I’ve since written the first in the series Wolves of West Texas, GUARDIAN OF HER HEART, a contemporary werewolf novella. GUARDIAN OF HIS SOUL is the second in the series, under my Claire Adele name, and it will be out soon. J

I’ve enjoyed a great adventure writing my stories. I hope you’ll find enjoyment reading them.

Wishing you inspiration and a wonderful story,
Jeanmarie Hamilton
Aka/ Claire Adele

GUARDIAN OF HER HEART, out now at Siren Bookstrand

Coming soon, GUARDIAN OF HIS SOUL.

THE LEGEND OF MUSTANG JANE - SALLY SCULL

Jeanmarie Hamilton is unable to post today, so I'm reposting an article I wrote for the Seduced By History Blog.

The Legend of Mustang Jane

Let me share the legend of a woman about whom I’ve recently learned. Sally Newman, the woman later called "Mustang Jane" by her vaqueros, was born in Illinois in 1817 to Rachel (nee Rabb) and Joseph Newman. Her parents followed her maternal grandparents through several states to eventually settle in southeastern Texas and become part of Stephen F. Austin’s "Old Three Hundred." (If you’re not familiar with Texas history, Stephen F. Austin’s 300 families who were early settlers is a big deal there.) As a pioneer wife, Mrs. Newman was no stranger to conflict. On at least two occasions, she thwarted attacks from Comanche or Apache with quick and decisive action while young Sally watched.

When Sally was sixteen, she registered the brand for the cattle she had inherited from her father. Although she registered the brand in her maiden name, she noted on the application that she was the wife of Jesse Robinson, a man eighteen years her senior. The alliance lasted for ten years. Custody of their children, Nancy and Alfred, was ceded to Jesse when the couple divorced in 1843. Sally kidnapped Nancy, but was forced to return her to Jesse.

Sally’s luck was no better with her second, third, fourth and fifth husbands. Through her third through fifth marriage, she continued to go by the last name of her second husband, Scull. It was while she was married to George Scull (sometimes spelled Skull) that she developed her love for and interest in horsetrading.

While she was losing husbands (with some speculation that she might have assisted a couple of them in departing this life), Sally was gaining a reputation for marksmanship. Whether in skirts or pants, she always wore two pistols belted to her waist and usually wore a bonnet. She was a dead shot with both pistol and rifle, in either hand.

No known photograph exists of her, but accounts say she was a tiny woman with steel blue eyes and weighed 125 pounds at most. Her rough language was notorious, and she spoke Tex-Mex as well as if it were her native tongue. When she wasn’t traveling alone, she rose in the company of several Mexican vaqueros. She roamed the wide territory between the Sabine River and the Rio Grande, making her headquarters at a small settlement called Banquette, about twenty miles west of Corpus Christi. The vaqueros who worked for her and other Mexicans who knew her called her "Juana Mestena," Mustang Jane. She could outshoot any of her ranch hands, roped and rose with the best of them, and could drive a herd better than any of the wranglers in her employ.

Horsetrading was her primary business, a profitable one, and often under questionable circumstances. After a trip into Mexico, she always returned with a nice herd of stock, yet her money belt was still full. Sally knew all the ranches in the area. Ranch wives sometimes hinted that while Sally made eyes at the menfolk, her vaqueros were busy cutting the best horses from the herd. There were also rumors that she had assistance from the Comanche. If Sally admired particular horses and the owner refused to sell, Comanche raiders mysteriously visited the ranch shortly after Sally’s departure. No one ever caught Sally in possession of a horse for which she couldn’t show rightful ownership because she never let anyone inspect her herd.

Sally worked hard and played hard. She was an avid poker player and her favorite haunts included Old St. Mary’s Saloon at Copano Bay, Pancho Grande’s in Corpus Christi, and several places in Refugio. She attended many a fandango due to her love of dancing. Can’t you imagine her dancing while wearing those two pistols belted around her waist?

During the Civil War, Sally’s knowledge of the southern Texas backcountry served the Confederacy. Union forces blockaded Texas ports, stopping all shipments from England. The United States could not block ports south of the border, so Mexico’s ports were open. Sally sold her stock of horses, bought wagons, and turned her vaqueros into cotton haulers. Her wagons became a common sight on the roads from San Antonio to Matamoros on what became known as the Cotton Road. Cotton was traded in Matamoros for guns, ammunition, medicines, coffee, shoes, clothing and other goods vital to the Confederacy and supplies needed by inland Texas settlements. When the war ended in 1865, Sally sold her wagons and resumed the horse business.

Sally had little to do with her son, Alfred, who lived with his father and stepmother and their eight children on Ramerania Creek, about fifty miles northwest of Corpus Christi. No one knows what happened to Alfred Robinson. Nancy and her mother were closer. Sally sent her to one of the best boarding schools in New Orleans. Nancy returned to Texas, married, and lived up to her mother’s dreams. They were close until one visit when one of Nancy’s family dogs growled at Sally and she shot the dog.

No one knows what happened to Sally Scull. Texas mothers used to cajole their children to behave or "Old Sally Skull will get you." Not a nice remembrance, but Sally Scull had defied all expectations of womanhood for her era or any other. She walked tall in a world of strong men and made anyone in her path step aside.

Historian J. Frank Dobie wrote, "Sally Skull belonged to the days of the Texas Republic and afterward. She was notorious for her husbands, her horse trading, freighting, and roughness."

 Sally Scull had defied all expectations of womanhood for her era or any other. She walked tall in a world of strong men and made anyone in her path step aside. Since no one knows where she's buried, it's nice that she's been honored with a Texas State Historical Marker in Refugio that says:

Sally's marker

Women rancher, horse trader, champion "cusser". Ranched NW of here. In Civil War Texas, Sally Scull (or Skull) freight wagons took cotton to Mexico to swap for guns, ammunition, medicines, coffee, shoes, clothing and other goods vital to the confederacy.

Dressed in trousers, Mrs. Scull bossed armed employees; was sure shot with the rifle carried on her saddle or the two pistols strapped to her waist. Of good family, she had children cared for in New Orleans School. Often visited them. Loved dancing. Yet during the war, did extremely hazardous "Man's Work".

Thanks to FROM ANGELS TO HELLCATS: LEGENDARY TEXAS WOMEN 1836-1880, by Don Blevins; http://www.legendsofamerica.com/;
 http://www.tshaonline.org/;
 and http://www.texasescapes.com/

Find out more about Caroline Clemmons at http://www.carolineclemmons.com/ or visit her blog at http://carolineclemmons.blogspot.com/   　

Writing Romance Description with Western Art

When I'm writing western historical romance, I often need to do some research for accurate descriptions of clothing, the color of dusters, time of year in a certain place in the west, and various other details like architecture.

I've discovered some of the best help through the work of western artists who lived and painted in the late 1800's old west.

Charles Russell, above, Frederic Remington, and Joseph Sharp are a few of the artists who went west to record with their paintings the landscape and people who lived there.

I've included some of their work as examples of how they illustrated the life and times of the old west. Not quite the same as depicted in most of the movies and TV serials, but every bit as fascinating.

I once had an editor ask me if my story was like the John Wayne movie, Rio Grande. It took me a moment to answer as I mentally compared the historical details in my story with embellished old west films.

As writers, we strive for accuracy in the historical facts woven through our stories. For the answers, I often look to artists who lived in that time period, and I enjoy their amazing depictions of the old west while I'm at it.

I have to say, the cover of Dangerous Persuasion also reflects the research that goes into producing historical romance covers that accurately portray historical clothing and the vivid desert colors.

I'd like to thank the generous web sites for the art I've shown here today.


Jeanmarie Hamilton
aka Claire Adele
www.JeanmarieHamilton.com
Dangerous Persuasion, available in ebook now, and soon in print, from Siren BookStrand and other online booksellers.

WOLVES OF WEST TEXAS

"Wolves of West Texas"

Guardian of Her Heart, by Claire Adele, released February 10

Tormented private investigator Mike Wolfson has a killer to catch. Hidden family secrets, including his shape-shifter side, alienate him from the one woman he's always wanted. Stunning child crisis center director Melissa Haven is threatened by the evil underworld of his greatest enemy. Mike must protect her from kidnappers without revealing his dark reality.
Melissa's always believed Mike's wealth and her middle class status kept them apart. Finally together, they can no longer deny their feelings. Daring and determined, she welcomes his tempting caresses as hidden passions ignite. She never expected to share hot erotic pleasures with Mike.
As Mike protects the woman he's always loved from mortal danger, can he reveal his heart-wrenching secret, or will the truth lose her love forever?
A Siren Erotic Romance
Story excerpt follows:

“Let’s sit in here while dinner cooks,” she said and led the way to the living room.

She settled in the middle of the couch and crossed her long legs. He welcomed the chance to sit next to her.

He cleared his throat. Later, Wolfson, if you’re very lucky. “Even though I don’t want to and I expect you don’t either, we need to talk about this guy and his goons who attacked you.” He wiped one hand over his eyes. “You’ll need better security at the shelter. I don’t like the thought of him showing up again.”

“I can’t afford another security guard at the shelter, but I’ll ask the one I have to walk with me to my car in the evening when I leave.” Her eyes revealed her trust in Mike. Her lips curved up in a warm smile.

He wished he could hold her heart-shaped face with his hands and kiss her freckled nose, her full lips. Feel those lips on him.

“Good. That’ll help, but until we catch those guys, you need to have someone follow you home. I’ll do that. Juan and Derek have been investigating this gang for over a year. If you’ll call the police to make a report about what happened tonight, it’ll help them build a case. The sooner we put these guys in jail, the better.”

She slowly snuggled up to Mike’s side. “I recognized the father of the boy as a troublemaker from our high school days. It’s been a while.”

“I remember him, too,” Mike said and urged Melissa closer to him. “In high school, he thought it was fun to pick on kids who were smaller or younger than he was. Now, he uses women to make money.”

Mike clenched his jaw. He should have taken Tito down tonight. He shouldn’t have let him get away.

She smoothed her soft fingers over his hand. “The little boy’s mother signed their last name as Gonzalez.”

“Yeah. Tito Gonzalez.” A rogue werewolf with a dangerous pack. “He owns an apartment building near downtown. He and his gang live there. The police have a detective checking out the place, but so far, from what I’ve heard, he hasn’t found any conclusive evidence to prove human trafficking. The apartment is handy for prostitution, under the guise of a massage parlor, as well as meetings with those looking for free illegal labor. Maybe the boy’s mother can give you some info that would help with the case.”

“I’ll see if she wants to talk about him, but I’m not going to badger her. She came to the shelter for rest and protection. I won’t cause her more distress.”

Mike smiled at the protective tone of Melissa’s voice. “I won’t ask you to. If she closes up, let it go. We’ll find some other way to arrest these guys.”

Anger and determination made his blood boil. The thought of Melissa being hurt by Tito and his gang tempted the dangerous side of Mike with the urge to tear their throats out.

Melissa was the most beautiful, generous woman he’d ever known. Her dark hair fell in waves around her delicate face. He pushed a tendril back as he gazed into her blue eyes.

Her familiar, sweet scent tempted the primal force raging through his veins. He must control it now and always. She would run from him if she knew he was more than human.

Claire Adele

Many werewolf stories take place in Canada or near the northern border of the USA. Of course, that makes sense because most North American wolves range in the northern states and in Canada. But what about the Mexican Gray wolf? Shown below, the Mexican wolf is being returned to the states of Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona, where it roamed years ago before its numbers were depleted. With the help of the US Fish and Wildlife Service and Federal, State, and Tribal partners, the Mexican Gray wolf is making its way back.











A few years ago, my husband and I drove along an unpaved road in the desert toward one of our favorite places to picnic. Crossing the road well ahead of us trotted a large reddish-brown canine, too large and of a different color than a German Shepherd dog. Late one night recently, I heard the howl of a wolf near our neighborhood home in the foothills. There are often sightings of mountain lions in our foothill neighborhoods, so it's not surprising that a wolf or two might be lurking as well. My hope is that they find good hunting in the mountains and desert outside the city. Their ancestors have ranged the entire length of the Americas in the past.

Check out http://www.fws.gov/southwest/es/mexicanwolf/indes.shtml
for more information, and additional photos of the Mexican Gray wolf.

Have you seen a wolf recently? If you have, was it roaming free?

I always give away a copy of one of my books to a member of my newsletter which you can sign up for on my web site at www.JeanmarieHamilton.com

Guardian of Her Heart, by Claire Adele
Siren BookStrand
Available Now in: Microsoft Reader, Adobe Acrobat, HTML, Mobipocket, EPUB
http://www.bookstrand.com/guardian-of-her-heart

Moonlight Desperado, Fact and Fiction

Where do writers find ideas for their stories? Inspiration comes in many ways. For me, it's usually a song, an article in a newspaper, on the news, in a non-fiction book, a book about history...or a story my parents or grandmothers told me when I was a child. Moonlight Desperado was inspired by a true story about my great grandmother after the Civil War, when desperate men traveled across Texas to Mexico. Some were raiders, like those who robbed my young great grandmother. She was alone in her home with her children and threatened by armed outlaws. Again, the factual story is inspiration for my story of fiction. Playing "what if," I incorporated werewolves from Laredo to add even more suspense and to add further complications to a hero already burdened by complex responsibilities and emotions following the Civil War. I hope you'll enjoy Mary Ann and Captain Wolfe as much as I enjoyed writing their story. Here's a blurb and excerpt of Moonlight Desperado: In post Civil War Texas, Mary Ann Beauclere is trapped by raiders demanding bedding and food. Though she's outraged when Captain Craig Wolfe steals a kiss, and more, in front of the men, she follows orders, desperate to protect her little sisters asleep upstairs. But when Captain Wolfe helps her, she softens toward the desperado, accepting his kisses as she's drawn to him like no other. Admiring Mary Ann's courage, Confederate spy Captain Craig Wolfe recognizes her as his life mate. But when he claims her, secret identities and a vicious pack member threaten their lives and their future. Will Captain Wolfe have to spend his life without his mate?

Excerpt At their brief contact, her shiver raced through Craig like lightning. The surprise in her wide eyes along with her reaction confirmed what he already recognized. He'd known the moment he caught her sweet scent. Miss Beauclere was his mate. The woman he never expected to meet. So many nights as he waited for the next day's battle, he believed he would die without ever having met her or kissed her. His blood boiled with the need to hold her. Taste her. Bury his face in the fragrant tendrils of her silky hair. Make her his. He could not touch her now. At least he could protect her from the men. No one would dare make an advance toward his mate. Not even their leader, his old friend Captain Neal Keller. Keller understood the laws of the pack. Growing up in Laredo, they shared their Were knowledge and respected those laws since they shifted the first time in their puberty. When the southern states seceded from the Union, the entire pack from Laredo joined in the Confederate cause. Except for Craig. He fought for the Northern ideals, which included a united union of states. Keller didn't know Craig joined the army of the North. They parted company beforehand. Now few remained of their pack, and Keller led this band of lawless renegades. There'd be hell to pay if he discovered Craig fought for the North. Hopefully, he'd never come to blows with Keller. Only one of them would survive. He shifted the bundle to one arm. "I'll take these outside while you gather more, Miss Beauclere." "We don't have much more." Anger sparked from her defiant gaze. "Miss, the men outside are dangerous." He must keep her from riling Keller. He sliced the air with his gun hand. "Don't try to fool their leader. I'll protect you, but don't put yourself in jeopardy." "How can I trust you?" Cold derision mixed with her anger. "You're one of them." He best defuse her temper right now. He softened his tone. "You can trust me. Don't question anyone. Just do as you're asked, within reason, and stay out of sight otherwise." She threw a pillow at him. When he caught it, her eyes, the color of blue forget-me-nots, glowed like the hottest flame. The scent of her perfume rose from the feather pillow and encircled him. The smile that twitched the corners of his mouth disappeared. A sudden onslaught of feral passion increased his hunger for her. Tendrils of her hair, the color of ripe fields of wheat, curled in the summer heat, and a fine sheen of dampness covered her face. He wanted to lick that moisture where it formed fine beads. It took all his strength to control the need to take her in his arms and devour her. At the stubborn, angry expression on her face, Craig said, "Mind what I've said. I'll be right back." He took the bundle outside, handed it to the waiting men, turned, and retraced his steps upstairs. He admired her stubbornness, but it could cause her trouble. He needed to make it clear to the men, including Keller, that she belonged to him. She'd protest, but he must show them she was his alone, for her sake. When would there be an end to this fighting and lawlessness? He was sick of it. Home and herding cattle on the ranch never appealed more. When his assignment ended, he planned to leave soldiering behind and take up ranching. He found Miss Beauclere in the first bedroom near the stairs. Her sweet scent filled this room as well. It must be her bedroom. Spotless, white curtains covered the windows. On either side stood a dresser and washstand. The clean lines of the furniture and the bed matched Miss Beauclere's demeanor. She'd pulled all the bed clothes into a pile and now gathered quilts from a chest at the foot of the four poster bed. "There's only one more bedroom where my aunt sleeps when she visits. After I collect her sheets and blankets, I have no more to offer." Oh, she had more to offer. Too much for her own good. She promised to be a handful. He hoped she didn't push Keller too far. Craig would put a stop to any trouble before it started. "I'm sorry to cause you this inconvenience. We should be gone at first light." She piled the quilts in his arms without touching him and moved to fold the linens. The soft outlines of her long, slender legs drew his attention. Almost overpowered by the animal in him, he leaned against the door while he regained his strength over the inner demon. How could he protect her when her effect on him brought forth his worst side? When she turned toward the door, she stopped and stared at him. He blocked her way. He inhaled deeply and fought for his humanity. "Miss, I know you're upset, but no matter what happens, don't do anything to upset Keller. Just stay out of sight inside your home." She shook her head, clearly exasperated. "I have no thoughts of doing anything that would draw your leader's attention." "Good." He turned, headed through the doorway and back down the stairs. Her soft footfalls padded behind him. When they reached the veranda, he handed the blankets to one of the men standing nearby. Finding Miss Beauclere so close worked with his plan. He took the bundle from her in one arm, slipped his other arm around her waist, and pulled her against him. The bulging evidence of his lust nestled low against her belly. She fit him perfectly. As she gasped in surprise, he covered her lips with his. Holding her tight, he tossed the linens to one of the men who gawked and covered one firm breast with his hand. Wishing everyone good reading, and a warm holiday season! Jeanmarie Hamilton www.JeanmarieHamilton.com Moonlight Desperado, Siren BookStrand Publishing