A Room without Books by Linda Hubalek

“A room without books is like a body without a soul.” ― Marcus Tullius Cicero

Each morning I look forward to the daily quote I automatically get from a website. Many times it doesn’t pertain to me or my life, but other times it “hits the spot” and makes my day.

Of course one of the reasons I like this quote is because I write books, but it is so true when you think of your home and where books are either stacked on shelves because you have read them, or plan to read them in the future.  Or you have a book by your bed or recliner that you pick up to read whenever you get a chance.

Looking around my office I have a collection of very old Swedish books that I’ve used for research when working on immigrant pioneer stories. It makes me wonder - who bought, read, and cherished them in the past century? 

How much did they cost? Were they a gift for a special occasion? What pioneer woman treasured this book in her homestead dugout?

I have an Engelsk-Svensk Ordbok (English-Swedish Dictionary) that was published in Stockholm in 1899. It measures 6” x 9” (with a three inch spine)… and weighs four pounds! 

Who packed this important book with them to use when they arrived in America?

And then I think of my Kindle. It’s so handy and holds so many, many books…but it will never have the “soul” of these antique books on my shelf…

Thanks for stopping by to enjoy today's Sweethearts of the West blog.

Linda Hubalek

Website | Amazon Author Page | Twitter | Facebook | Pinterest

RIDING A STAGECOACH IN THE OLD WEST

In the Eastern United States, riding a coach meant travel from one stage stop to the next, stopping at a tavern or inn for a meal and perhaps spending the night. In the West and Southwest, there were not enough established towns to support this kind of travel. Western travelers had to be made of grit and determination!

In 1858, John Butterfield undertook an overland stage line connecting St. Louis and San Francisco by way of El Paso, Texas. The route also ran through Tucson and Los Angeles, both of which were only villages of a few hundred residents. A federal contract paid the stage company $600,000 a year to carry U. S. mail across the continent. That sum helped subsidize way stations at regular intervals. The company spent nearly a year getting everything into place to support semi-weekly stagecoach service.

When Butterfield’s Overland Mail Line opened for business on 16 September 1858, the journey between St. Louis and San Francisco required three weeks of hard traveling—if the weather was good. Coaches moved all day and all night except for brief intervals at way stations. The fare did not include the cost of meals, which cost an average of a dollar each three times a day. Passengers had to sleep aboard the coach. These mail lines were guaranteed to be rugged but they got the mail through.

The Butterfield Overland Mail transferred passengers and mail to light, durable vehicles for travel over rough roads. 

From Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper, 

October 23, 1858.

At this time, most coaches set on springs which provided a bumpy, jostling ride. If passengers were fortunate, the route included riding in a Concord stagecoach. The first Concord stagecoach was built in 1827 in Concord, New Hampshire. Abbot Downing Company employed leather strap braces under their stagecoaches which gave a swinging motion instead of the jolting up and down motion of spring suspension. They were known to be built so solidly they didn’t break, they just wore out.

Over 700 Concord stagecoaches were built by the original Abbot Downing Company before it disbanded in 1847. However, the company was still building coaches, wagons, and carriages according to their business card of 1898. The coach was noted for its ability to keep passengers dry while floating across streams and rivers. The swaying motion caused some passengers to become “seasick”.

Wells Fargo Coach in a museum display

In his 1861 book ROUGHING IT, Mark Twain described the Concord stage’s ride as like “a cradle on wheels”.

Not all stagecoaches were of one of these types. Celerity or "mud" wagons were much lighter and cheaper to build. They had no springs so they offered a much rougher ride. They were primarily used on lines where passenger and express traffic was too light to justify the expense of Concord coaches. Instead of having a heavy wooden top, the celerity had a light frame structure with thick duck or canvas covering, greatly reducing the vehicle’s weight. Wheels were set further apart and were protected by wide steel rims that helped keep the coach from tipping over or the wheels from sinking in soft sands.

A Concord-made Celerity Wagon exhibited at Seeley
Stable in Old Town San Diego State Historic Park. This

vehicle still has its original finish.

While not as comfortable for daytime travelers, they were designed for passenger travel at night. Remember, the Overland Mail coaches didn't stop at night. Waterman L. Ormsby, special correspondent to the New York Herald described the sleeping accommodations.

“As for sleeping, most of the wagons are arranged so that the backs of the seats let down and form the length of the vehicle. When the stage is full, passengers must take turns sleeping. Perhaps the jolting will be found disagreeable at first, but a few nights without sleeping will obviate that difficulty, and soon the jolting will be as little of a disturbance as the rocking of a cradle to a sucking babe. For my part, I found no difficulty sleeping over the roughest roads, and I have no doubt that anyone else will learn quite as quickly. A bounce of the wagon, which makes one’s head strike the top, bottom, or sides, will be equally disregarded, and ‘nature’s sweet restorer’ found as welcome on the hard bottom of the wagon as in the downy beds of the St. Nicholas. White pants and kid gloves had better be discarded by most passengers.”

The Overland Mail stage departs from Atchison, Kansas. Published in Harper's Weekly on 

January 27. 1866.

Unlike the classic Concord stagecoaches, which could be mired in bad weather, mud wagons could travel over trails and roads during inclement weather. The only protection provided for passengers against bad weather and dusty roads were the canvas side curtains which could be rolled down and fastened.

By the way, the word “stage” meant the place where the horses or mules were changed—staged along the route. These were spaced every 12 to 20 miles, depending on the terrain, and were usually operated by a single man living in a small cottage who kept a change of horses in a barn and/or corral. The stage stopped only long enough for passengers to stretch their legs while the horses or mules were changed.

Buffalo soldiers protecting the stage
near San Angelo, Texas

Every 50 miles were the “home” stages, which were usually a couple or family who served meals and could provide overnight lodging—though sometimes passengers slept on a dirt floor. These stations also might include a blacksmith and stables. Drivers might be switched there.

Some coaches had two seats facing one another. The larger Concord squeezed in a center, forward-facing third seat, which made passengers very crowded and uncomfortable. Often the third seat had no back, which must have made retaining balance awkward as the coach swayed along. Often passengers had to interlock knees due to the crowded interior. Imagine you were a lady in the 1800s who’d been raised to observe propriety and you found yourself (while wearing a tightly laced corset) on a long coach ride having to lace legs with a unappealing male stranger. Ugh! Come to think of it, that wouldn’t be comfortable now.

Here are a set of rules posted by Wells Fargo in 1888:

1.      Abstinence from liquor is requested, but if you must drink, share the bottle. To do otherwise makes you appear selfish and unneighborly.

2.      If ladies are present, gentlemen are urged to forego smoking cigars and pipes as the odor of same is repugnant to the Gentle Sex. Chewing tobacco is permitted but spit WITH the wind, not against it. (I’d think this would be a given, wouldn’t you?)

3.      Gentlemen must refrain from the use of rough language in the presence of ladies and children.

4.      Buffalo robes are provided for your comfort during cold weather. Hogging robes will not be tolerated and the offender will be made to ride with the driver.

5.      Don’t snore loudly while sleeping or use your fellow passenger’s shoulder for a pillow; he or she may not understand and friction may result.

6.      Firearms may be kept on your person for use in emergencies. Do not fire them for pleasure or shoot at wild animals as the sound riles the horses.

7.      In the event of runaway horses, remain calm. Leaping from the coach in panic will leave you injured, at the mercy of the elements, hostile Indians, and hungry coyotes.

8.      Forbidden topics of discussion are stagecoach robberies and Indian uprisings.

9.      Gents guilty of unchivalrous behavior toward lady passengers will be put off the stage. It’s a long walk back. A word to the wise is sufficient. (I love this one)

To these, the Omaha Herald in 1877 added cautions to:

Never ride in cold weather with tight boots nor close-fitting gloves.

When the driver asks you to get out and walk, do so without grumbling. He will not request it unless absolutely necessary.

Don’t linger too long at the pewter wash basin at the station. Don’t grease your hair before starting out or dust will stick there in sufficient quantities to make a respectable ‘tater patch. Tie a silk handkerchief around your neck to keep out dust and prevent sunburns. A little glycerin is good in case of chapped hands.

Don’t discuss politics or religion nor point out places on the road where horrible murders have been committed.

In very cold weather, abstain entirely from liquor while on the road. A man will freeze twice as quick while under its influence.

Don’t imagine for a minute you are going on a picnic: expect annoyance, discomfort, and some hardships. If you are disappointed, thank heaven.

The heroine in my latest release, CASSANDRA, Bride Brigade book 3, traveled in a Concord coach from Fort Worth to (fictional) Tarnation, Texas. In fact, all the young women in this series traveled on the same coach. The first was JOSEPHINE, followed by ANGELINE. After Cassandra will be OPHELIA, RACHEL, LORRAINE, and PRUDENCE. All but Angeline, who joined them in St. Louis, traveled from Virginia with Lydia Jane Harrison and her friend Sophie Gaston. Wealthy young widow Lydia went to Virginia to recruit the young ladies to Tarnation so that there would be potential brides for the men of the town to meet and marry. Lydia was tired of being the only young woman in town, plus there were no young children. Bachelors were moving away, and she didn’t want that to continue. 

The first of this series, JOSEPHINE, is now only 99 cents. The buy link is here for Amazon, although it’s available on iBooks, Kobo, and Barnes and Noble. 

CASSANDRA is only at Amazon here.

Caroline Clemmons is an award winning and bestselling author of historical and contemporary western romance. She and her husband live in cowboy country in North Central Texas where they are owned by a menagerie of rescued pets.
Find her on her blog, website, Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, Google+, Pinterest, and her books at her Amazon Author Page. 
Subscribe to her newsletter here to receive a FREE novella of HAPPY IS THE BRIDE. 

Sources:

Texas State Historical Association Handbook of Texas online

http://www.deadwoodmagazine.com/archivedsite/Archives/Stage.htm

http://www.historicthedalles.org/rules_for_stage_travelers.htm

http://www.encyclopedia.com/topic/stagecoach.aspx

http://www.wikipedia.comhttp://www.parks.ca.gov/?page_id=25449

ROSE OF SHARON #Kindle #series Guest Author @ArlettaDawdy1

by Guest author, Arletta Dawdy

I am delighted and honored to be here with Sweethearts of the West and to acquaint you with my work and myself. I’ve enjoyed many a post here and learned much, especially about Texas! 

My stories are set in Southeast Arizona Territory which I’ve studied extensively, visited weeks and months at a time. I’ve camped on top of windy Carr Peak in the Huachuca Mountains, plowed my way through Garden Canyon seeking the petroglyphs of Fort Huachuca and learned that Wah-chew-ca is not pronounced: Oaxaca! I know something of the trails, the canyons, and the wonders of a snowy spring day there and more about the museums, the San Pedro River and the towns of Tombstone and Bisbee. 

When you read my books, you enter into a special place and time where the snake weed flourishes, the spring melt rushes and myriad hummingbirds mark a summer day.

          

My heroines tend to be very strong women who face major obstacles with determination, resourcefulness and courage. Josephine, the HUACHUCA WOMAN, is a businesswoman/rancher and tells her borderlands history in tales of her long life and the historic characters and events that populate it. BY GRACE briefly follows Grace’s life after she trains at the Tiffany Studio and is forced to flee west to escape a would-be killer and ends up in the Huachucas. But, it is an aspect of ROSE OF SHARON that I write of today.

Orphaned, lost and in need of family, Rose of Sharon finds hope only to lose it again with the mental illness of her new mother, an attempted murder, a painful inter-racial love affair and abandonment. Rose’s paranormal and writing gifts set her apart as she faces her life trials. Precocious in all aspects of her life, including in her love of White Buffalo Abraham Douglass, she struggles against all that would isolate her.

Daring to write of another culture or racial identity calls on the author to research carefully, mindful of gaps in history and accuracy, especially when going back to another era where documentation may be scant or prejudicial. I have done this in each of the three books of the trilogy and had the least pre-knowledge when it came to the Chiricahua Apaches. I wrote of Geronimo in the first book, studied the history of the white man’s intrusion into the area and its impact and followed them through the loss of their lands, culture, lives and transplant to the wretched environs of Floridian swamps. 

White Buffalo, Aunty and a few others, I decided, would escape from the round-up at San Carlos reservation to the north and hide out in the land of Cochise in the Dragoons. While I didn’t find any historical evidence of Chiricahuas in the Huachucas, I exercised my literary license and placed them there. 

In the following excerpt, Rose and White Buffalo meet when she discovers him sitting under the classroom window in 1890; she is 10 and he is about 14:

“So, what’s your name?” Rose finished her half-sandwich and dug the carrots out of her pail.

“Which name you want? I got at least three.”

“How come so many?” Rose handed him a couple of carrot sticks, but didn’t want to share her pie. Nobody, not even her real mama, made pie crust as sweet and crispy good as Mama Elise.

 “I have my Apache name, my Nigra name and my white name. Can’t many men claim so much in their history, or girls either.” The boy looked around furtively, as if afraid for anyone to see them together.

“That’s true. I’m only white but I’m American with some Scot blood in me. Least I think so.”

“What is this ‘Scot’? Sure you don’t mean scout like they’s got at Fort Huachuca?”

“No, silly, the Scots come from across the seas a long, long time ago.”

 “Maybe you’s Nigra, too. We come from across the sea.”

“Ain’t not and don’t you go sayin’ so or I won’t be your friend.” Rose’s dander was truly up now.  “What’s your three-peoples name, anyway?”

“I’m White Buffalo Abraham Douglass. The Apache calls me White Buffalo. That’s what my mother’s family named me. My father was a light-colored Buffalo Soldier, part white. So, I’m named Abraham for that white president that freed the slaves. Douglass is for a famous darkie. My pa’s folks took that name when they was freed.”

“Were freed.” Rose corrected him.

“What?”

“When he was, when they were. You got to talk right.”

“And I want to, but you are losing me,” the boy laughed quietly.

“You talk as if your father isn’t around anymore.” Rose wanted to go around the tree, the better to see just what this White Buffalo looked like.

“That’s the God’s honest truth…”

 “Shame, don’t you be takin’ the Lord’s name in vain.” She stood up and started to walk around the tree, but thought better of it.

“What’s this lord?”

“Don’t you know nothing?” Rose stretched farther around the tree, but still couldn’t see him. She let out an annoyed “harrumph,” and re-settled on her side of the oak.

“I know how to trap a rabbit, hunt a deer, heal a wound, chase a Mex across the border…”

“Okay, okay. You know lots of stuff except about God, the Maker of all things.”

White Buffalo looked down at his Levi-clad legs,  stuck one leg out for her to see and asked, “What’s the god that made these?”

“Now you’re just being ornery. I’m talkin’ about the God in heaven who watches over us.” She threw a dirt clod toward him.

 “Hey!” he let out. They were both quiet for a short while. “Somethin’ you know that I don’t,” the boy said, “is to read and write.”

“I know you been sittin’ under the window of a morning, listening to our lessons.”

“Yeah, I heard that story about how Columbus discovered America. Funny thing is, us Indians been here forever so how come Columbus to discover what was already known?”

“It means the people in Europe didn’t know, I guess.” She paused to think about that. “What else you been learning?”

“Sums come easy. I look at the board when I can and work the numbers in the dirt pretty good. And I got the alphabet, but I dunno what to do with it. Maybe you can teach me?”

“Maybe so.”

They both heard the bell sounding the end of recess. Rose stood and dusted the dirt from her dress and apron, gathered up her pail and notebook and, without a whisper to her new friend, ran back to class. She heard a crow squawk and wondered if it was White Buffalo.

The love affair between Rose and White Buffalo has no future; it is doomed from the start, reluctantly acknowledged by each, but in the process magic happens between them and a child is conceived.  Nearly nine years later, White Buffalo sheds his Apache identity and heads to New Orleans, where he is hopeful of making a life for the two of them. 

For Rose, it is another abandonment until Aunty comes to assist Rose in birthing Abigail Feather Welty in the Apache tradition. With Rose squatting on her knees, and holding onto a post, Aunty uses antelope sage bathing waters to massage the young mother as she chews salted bits of yucca to hurry the process along. 

Rose of Sharon’s family continues to evolve.

                          

http://www.amazon.com/Rose-Sharon-Arletta-Dawdy/dp/1512334928

Praise for Rose of Sharon: “…a delightful, wonderfully imagined prequel to Grapes of Wrath;”   “Characters are born out of the fabric of their landscape;” “…brilliantly crafted descriptive passages.”

http://www.amazon.com/Rose-Sharon-Arletta-Dawdy/dp/1512334928

Author Arletta Dawdy

Arletta Dawdy lives and writes in Northern California but her heart is in the Old West, especially in the Arizona Territory of the late 19^th century and early 20^th. The Huachuca Trilogy is comprised of Huachuca Woman, By Grace and Rose of Sharon. All are available on Amazon.com, Kindle and by order from your favorite bookstore.

Website: http://www.ArlettaDawdy.com

Email:    arlettadawdy@yahoo.com

Also on Facebook and Twitter (ArlettaDawdy1)

SOURCES: Morris Edward Opler, An Apache Way of Life

H. Henrietta  Stockel, Women of the Apache Nation,Chiricahua Apache Women                   and Children, and with Bobette Perrone and Victoria Krueger, Medicine Women, Curanderas, and Women Doctors

                                                       

Brenda Novak Auction Items up for Bid

The Brenda Novak Auction for Diabetes Research is in full swing and the Sweethearts of the West have ten goodies just waiting for you to bid on them.

First up is a Kindle Fire, full of Western Romances, plus $50 in gift cards.

Linda LaRoque has donated a handmade breadbox (made by her husband).

Win a basket of books author Lily Graison.

Lyn Horner has put together a basket of her Texas Devlins Series:

And not to be outdone, Carra Coplin has also donated a basket of books and goodies:

“The only limits you have are the limits you believe” Stainless Steel & Two Tone Silver-Plated Crystal Heart Charm Bangle Bracelet from author Anna Kathryn Lanier. 

Anna Kathryn is also donating a Cookbook Basket:

Several Sweetheart Authors are donating critiques of Western Romances....so now is your time to get a critique from a published Western Romance author:

The winner of this auction will receive a critique of the first 3 chapters of a Western genre romance by multipublished author Peggy L. Henderson.

The winner of this auction will receive a critique of the first 3 chapters or the first 50 pages (winners choice) of a Western genre romance by multipublished author Caroline Clemmons.

Multipublished author, Tanya Hanson will critique the first three chapters of your historical western (inspirational or secular) if you win this auction!

There are more than 1,700 items up for bids on the auction site...everything from trips to exotic places, critiques, jewelry, autographed books, audio books, lunch/drinks/chatting with authors, and much much more. If you have not checked out Brenda Novak's Online Auction for Diabetes Research, don't delay and do so now!

Anna Kathryn Lanier
Romance Author, A GIFT BEYOND ALL MEASURE

http://aklanier.com/

Never let your memories be greater than your dreams. ~Doug Ivester 

STEP BACK IN TIME TO AN OLD WEST SALOON

By Guest Author, Keta Diablo

The Bodie Saloon, Bodie California
Build circa 1892

Saloons served customers such as fur trappers, cowboys, soldiers, prospectors, miners, and gamblers. The first saloon was established at Brown's Hole, Wyoming, in 1822, to serve fur trappers. By the late 1850s the term saloon had begun to appear in directories and common usage as a term for an establishment that specialized in beer and liquor sales by the drink, with food and lodging as secondary concerns in some places. By 1880, the growth of saloons was in full swing. In Leavenworth, Kansas there were about 150 saloons

By way of entertainment, saloons offered dancing girls, some of whom occasionally or routinely doubled as prostitutes. Many saloons offered Faro, poker, brag, three-card Monte, and dice games. Other games were added as saloons continued to prosper and face increasing competition. These additional games included billiards, darts, and bowling. Some saloons even included piano players, can-can girls, and theatrical skits. A current example of this type of entertainment is the Long Branch Variety Show that is presented in the recreated Long Branch Saloon in Dodge City, Kansas.

Dancing Girl

Among the more familiar saloons were First Chance Saloon in Miles City, Montana; the Bull's Head in Abilene, Kansas; the Arcade Saloon in Eldora, Colorado; the Holy Moses in Creede, Colorado; the Long Branch Saloon in Dodge City, Kansas; the Birdcage Theater in Tombstone, Arizona; the Bucket of Blood Saloon in Virginia City, Nevada; and the Jersey Lilly in Langtry, Texas. Many of these establishments remained open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week

Painted Lady of the Old West

Common Misconceptions

Gambling
Faro was the most popular game of the time, not poker. Those who played Faro were called “punters.” Faro was played on a table and required special equipment which facilitated the game. As such, faro dealers made their money by traveling around the West with their gambling equipment, and setting up shop wherever they could. These dealers often rented space on a saloon floor, and, in return, gave a percentage of their winnings to the owner of the saloon. Unlike a poker game, in which each person playing banked their own game, and either won or lost according to the extent of their “investment,” in the game of faro. Contrary to modern beliefs, poker was seldom played in the first saloons.

Whiskey Bottle

Liquor
The whiskey often served was bad indeed. Called “Tarantula Juice,” “Coffin Varnish,” and “Stagger Soup,” the concoctions sold as whiskey were often made with cheap raw watered-down alcohol, and colored to look like whiskey with whatever was locally available, including, old shoes, tobacco, molasses, or burnt sugar. These whiskies were frequently given an extra “kick” by adding red peppers or, extra “flavor” by adding other things, like snake heads, which tainted the liquid. Now you understand what the cowboys, as portrayed in the movies, meant when they asked the bartender for a bottle of “your best whiskey.” They were asking for a bottle of real whiskey distilled in a place somewhere in the Eastern United States, like Kentucky, or, Pennsylvania.

I hope you enjoyed our journey back in time. Remember, not everything you hear or read about history is true.

Happy Reading,
Keta

Author Keta Diablo

Keta Diablo Keta is a multi-published author of paranormal and historical fiction. In 2009, her erotic romance Decadent Deceptions was a finalist in the RWA Molly contest. In 2010, Keta's entry Phoenix Rising finaled in the Scarlet Boa contest and in 2011 Keta's acclaimed paranormal shifter, Where The Rain is Made, was nominated by Authors After Dark for a BOOKIE AWARD and by Deep In The Heart of Romance for BEST ROMANCE OF THE YEAR. 

Her recent release is the sweet contemporary romance, SKY TINTED WATER.

The Amazon buy link for SKY TINTED WATER is

http://www.amazon.com/Tinted-Inspirational-Historical-Fiction-ebook/dp/B00B93HNCK/ref=sr_1_18?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1364155647&sr=1-18&keywords=keta+diablo

Many of Keta's books have won numerous awards: Top Reviewer's Pick, Recommended Read and Best Book of the Month.

If you'd like to know more about Keta and her latest releases, she haunts the Net here:

Keta's Keep Blog, http://ketaskeep.blogspot.com
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/ketadiablo
Facebook Fan page: http://www.facebook.com/KetaDiablo.Author

WHERE DO YOU GET STORY IDEAS?

By Guest Lynn Cahoon

When I started writing, I signed up for classes at my local university in the MFA, Creative Writing program.  A homework assignment for my course in creative non-fiction led me to a small mining town thirty minutes from my home.

With the Civil War raging in the east, gold was discovered the Idaho mountains. In December of 1862, Bannock, now known as Idaho City, was founded. Towns sprung up almost overnight during this rush.  (Think Paint Your Wagon.) At its heyday, Idaho City had over 250 businesses, and was the largest city in the Northwest, surpassing Portland, Oregon.

Bannock, Idaho, now known as Idaho City

 But as the gold dwindled and the wooden structures were destroyed by a series of fires, the capital moved to Boise, a town deep in what’s now the Boise National Forest.  Today, the town is a thriving tourist spot with several of the original buildings still intact, and some repurposed for other usages.

When I walked down the dirt streets, a sense of history overwhelmed me, and the writer's mind started wondering , what if…

My wanderings took me up to the Pioneer Cemetery.  The cemetery was established in 1863, a must for this dangerous town.  Out of the first 200 graves, only 20 people died of natural causes.

It’s estimated that over 2000 graves exist in the cemetery, but as I walked through the tree-lined paths, I found Mary’s grave. Covered with a full granite grave cover, her husband had carved a poem telling her how much she would be missed and that he’d meet her in heaven.  The romance writer in me took that poem, and started researching the other Mary, as I called her.

Mary Pinney's grave

Her husband, James Pinney, went on to become a mayor of Boise (the capital city) and remarried a woman also named Mary. I always wondered if he remembered his first Mary and the lovely promise he’d put in stone on her grave.  A promise to meet her in the next life.

When I turned in that story for my professor, she said she loved the story, but she felt like there was too much fiction in the recounting of Mary’s untimely death, which I chose to focus on for the assignment. No, I didn’t know if she died in childbirth, like I’d written, but many women did. And I could see her, trying to make it to her husband’s office where he ran a small store and post office for the town. I imagined her peeking into the high windows of the Masonic Hall, trying to see what the men did when they met.  The Grand Lodge #1 was started in this small town in 1867.

Boise Grand Lodge #1, Masonic Hall

So, I learned a lot about the town of Idaho City through my research, but I learned more about my style of storytelling. I want to know the everyday stories, not only the history.  And if my truth gets surrounded by a little creative fiction, so much the better
.
My current release, The Bull Rider’s Manager is a contemporary set in my hometown of Boise, with a side trip to Vegas.

Barb Carico’s all about business.  Now that her best friend tied the knot with Barb’s new business partner, she’s busier than ever. Managing Jesse Sullivan’s career and public persona can be a handful. Add in an aging mother who goes through home health nurses like candy, Barb’s hanging on the edge.

Her one salvation?  Hunter Martin, prodigal son of Martin Family Dairy and, hopefully, Jesse’s next sponsor. After his brother’s death, Hunter becomes an instant dad to his seven-year-old niece.  For Hunter, the rodeo weekend with Barb is the perfect excuse to relax.

When their dinner turns into a quick trip to a Vegas wedding chapel, both Barb and Hunter agree their nuptials were a mistake. Barb doesn't know anything about being a wife or mother, but she needs one favor.  A favor she'll trade her lifestyle, independence, and even risk her heart to make come true.

Lynn Cahoon, Author

Lynn Cahoon is a contemporary romance author with a love of hot, sexy men, real and imagined. Her alpha heroes range from rogue witch hunters to modern cowboys. And her heroines all have one thing in common, their strong need for independence. Or at least that’s what they think they want.  She blogs at her website, A Fairy Tale Life. www.lynncahoon.wordpress.com

Buy link - http://www.amazon.com/The-Bull-Riders-Manager-ebook/dp/B009VLZHVQ

Sources:
http://www.idahocityhistoriclodge.com
http://www.idahocityevents.org