Wild Hog Explosion

This month the second book in my Rodeo Rebels series for Harlequin American Romance hits store shelves. The Bull Rider's Secret takes place in Bandera, Texas. Known in the Hill Country as The Cowboy Capitol of the World, Bandera is a unique town with lots of western flavor and a tradition of welcoming the Biker community. I love adding a bit of reality to my stories and that's exactly what I did in The Bull Rider's Secret when my hero Brody enters the Wild Hog Explosion contest at Mansfield Park in Bandera, Texas.


This real life event features a wild hog catch. Teams of two enter a ring to try and catch a real Texas wild hog and then put the hog into a burlap sack. I haven't had the fortune to attend this event in person but one day I hope to return to Bandera to watch these crazy hog-catching people!







The Bull Rider's Secret





Home, sweet home? Not for this cowboy.


Brody Murphy lives one day—one ride—at a time. No home, no responsibility, no one depending on him. As long as the bull rider keeps moving, he can keep it that way. But when Brody meets Ricky Sovo and his mother, rancher Katarina, he finds himself lingering in one place for the first time in years.


Kat’s unlike any woman he’s ever known—feisty, stubborn and determined to make it on her own. But that independent streak has gotten her in trouble with a couple of local ranch hands. She needs Brody's help. Only helping means sticking around, and that’s not something Brody can do. For Kat makes him want more from life, more that he doesn’t deserve. She may be his only chance at accepting his past... but he's not sure he can ever stop running from it.


★★★★ ½
Brody Murphy is a man with a painful past who lives with no ties, moving from rodeo to rodeo, until he meets Ricky Sovo and his mother Katarina. Stubborn and independent, Kat finds herself in need of a ranch hand in a hurry and she really needs Brody's help, if she can talk him into sticking around. Brody's not sure he can stop running, even for the woman who may be able to save his life. Be sure to have tissues handy because Thomas has heartwarming characters who evolve and work to overcome tragedy. Pat Cooper, RT Book Reviews Magazine


Excerpt:


The thunder of Harleys roaring down Main Street threatened to deafen Brody Murphy as he used the pay phone outside the Silver Dollar Saloon in Bandera, Texas.


"Ma'am." Brody tipped his hat to a wannabe cowgirl who sashayed by, leaving a scented cloud of expensive perfume in her wake.


"What's that God-awful noise?" Brody's buddy, Drew Rawlins, shouted through the phone connection.


"The Hell's Angels are in town."


"Where are you?"


"I'm in Bandera."


"Bandera? You were supposed to be here—" meaning Drew's ranch, Dry Creek Acres. "—three hours ago."


Brody ignored his friend's rant as he studied his choices for lunch across the street—Southern Comfort Bakery, Mi Pueblo, Busbee's BBQ and Bandera Saloon & Grill.


"Hey!" Drew snagged Brody's attention. "What are you doing in Bandera?"


Hell if Brody knew. He scanned the area, willing the answer to pop up in front of him. His gaze landed on a flyer attached to the saloon's over-sized red door.

Bandera, Texas
Cowboy Capital of the World
Wild Hog Explosion
Saturday March 20th at Mansfield Park




"Think I'll enter the Wild Hog Explosion." Whatever the heck that was.


"You're kidding, right?"


Maybe. Brody was down to twenty bucks in his wallet and half a tank of gas. Speaking of fuel, Brody gagged on fumes as a second motorcycle gang drove past him.


"I offered you a job," Drew said.


Turning his back to the busy road, Brody rested his arm atop the pay phone. This wasn't the first time Drew suggested Brody quit the rodeo circuit and work for him as a ranch hand. Brody had been a ranch hand most of his adult life—punching cows in Montana where he'd been born and raised. Hell, he loved—make that had loved—working cattle and horses, wide open spaces and the soul-searching loneliness of riding the proverbial range. Two years ago Brody had quit his job at the Black Stone Ranch and now he lived one day and one bull ride at a time.


There was a part of Brody that yearned to hang up his bull rope. He was tired. Lonely. Downright lost. But working for Drew would be like walking around all day with a red-hot poker stuck in his eye.


His buddy understood the demons chasing Brody. He was the only person Brody had confided in about his past. Even so, Brody didn't care to witness the former bronc rider's happiness. Drew had retired from rodeo this past December after he'd scratched at the National Finals Rodeo in Vegas. He'd given up a world title for love and a chance to be a father to a son he hadn't known existed until recently.


Drew was happy. Brody was miserable. It would only be a matter of time before Brody's unhappiness ruined their friendship. If that wasn't enough to deter him from accepting a job at Dry Creek Acres, then taking charity from a friend was. Drew had offered the job, not because he needed help, but because he felt sorry for Brody.


"Thanks, but I've got a ride coming up," Brody lied.


"When are you gonna admit you aren't a bull rider?"


Never. "I'll be in touch."


"The job's yours anytime you want it."


"Thanks." Brody hung up and eyed the advertisement on the saloon door. What the hell. He'd head to Mansfield Park and check out the exploding pigs.


Happy Trails!
Marin Thomas
www.marinthomas.com
Buy Marin's books here!

With this post, Marin Thomas begins a new phase on her life. She and her husband are moving across the country, with a new job for her husband, new home, and an empty nest. Because of the multitude of changes she faces in her life, Marin is leaving Sweethearts of the West. We hate like everything to see her depart, but understand that family always comes first. Marin, Happy Trails to you and your husband on this new chapter in your life!

Old Fashioned Relationship Advice

I write contemporary western romances for Harlequin American but even modern day heroes and heroines need some good ol' fashioned advice on love and relationships. And who better to consult than a a rough-n-tumble cowboy and cowgirl. When the couple in my book hits a snag, I turn to my favorite resource for a little cowfolk advice. Thought it would be fun to share some snippets on Happy-Ever-Afters from…

Just One Fool Thing after Another.
A Cowfolks' Guide to Romance by Gladiola Montana and Texas Bix Bender.


Attention without intention is flirtation.
To bring somebody into your life, take a step into theirs.
The ranch is work from sun to sun, but loves work is never done.
If your mind's set to ride a buckin' bronc, you'd better be prepared for the bruises.
When you fall into somebody's arms, you're fallin' into their hands as well.
A heart that ain't been broke thinks it's okay to go round breakin' others.
There's no cure for lovesickness, and nobody really wants one.

A man can build a house but it takes a woman to make it a home.


If you wanta stay single look for a perfect mate.
It may be more romantic to be the first love, but it's better to be the last.
When a woman makes up her mind you can always be sure she's gonna do exactly what she says—or not.

Women flirt to be appreciated; men mean it.


A woman wanted by men but disliked by women is nothin' but trouble.


The only time a woman can change a man is when he's a baby.


Try not to make a ring around a finger feel akin to a rope around the neck.


Never go to bed mad. Stay up and fight it out.


When you're pickin' fklowers everybody gets along. When it's time to muck the stalls is when you find out how true your love is.

Stolen kisses require an accomplice.


When you can't keep anything from 'em, you love 'em.

Big problems will pull you together. It's the little things that tear you apart.


Okay, time to fess up! Share the advice friends or family members have given you on personal relationships and marriage—was it good advice or poppycock?


Marin Thomas
The Bull Rider's Secret July 2011
A Rodeo Man's Promise (Dec 2011)
Arizona Cowboy (Feb 2012)
www.marinthomas.com

Old Manuscripts

I'm thrilled to announce that the first book in my all-new series for Harlequin American Romance, Rodeo Rebels, hits bookstores this month. Rodeo Daddy is a book dear to my heart and has seen many, many re-writes through the years. The book was written well before I sold my first manuscript to Harlequin in 2003. Unable to find a home for the book, I tossed it into a desk drawer and forgot about it.

Not long ago I was asked to write book 2, Dexter: Honorable Cowboy (July 2010), for the first ever Harlequin American Romance continuity--The Codys: First Family of Rodeo. Writing a book about a Wyoming family of rodeo stars was great fun and I was hooked on the rodeo plotline. There's something so romantic and sigh-worthy about cowboys who live to tame wild broncs and crazed bulls and the women who live to tame those cowboys. I pulled out the old manuscript, blew off the dust and went to work re-writing the story once more. This time I got lucky and my editors bought the book.

The first two books in the series, Rodeo Daddy (April 2011) and The Bull Rider's Secret (July 2011) take place in Texas while the third "untitled" book (Dec 2011) is set in New Mexico and Las Vegas. Following these three books is another group of Rodeo Rebel stories set in Arizona with plots revolving around ladies bull riding.




He's Nothing But Eight Seconds Of Heartache...

The day Hallie Sutton dreaded has finally come. Drew Rawlins has found out the secret she’s been keeping--and he’s spitting mad! But the rodeo is Drew’s whole world and Hallie needs a full-time dad for their boy. Still, how can she deny the injured bronc rider the chance to get to know his son? All Drew wants is to carve out a place in his son’s life. Sorting out his feelings for Hallie isn’t as simple. The emotion simmering between them is just as strong—so’s the red-hot desire that got them into trouble five years ago. Winning the world championship is still number-one on Drew’s list. But he figures he can have it all. The title and the chance to prove he’s the man Hallie and Nick need.

Excerpt

"The Bastrop Homecoming Rodeo must be a hell of an event. You're the third cowboy today who's fallen off his horse."

Drew Rawlins glared at the ER doctor as he sucked in a lung full of sterilized air. Not smart. A burning band of pain squeezed his injured ribs, and the words escaped his mouth in a long wheeze. "I was bucked off."

"I'm Doctor Feller." The doctor flipped on the light box mounted against the wall and studied Drew's x-ray.

Drew prayed he wouldn't draw another crazed bronc like Demon the day after tomorrow when he competed in the final round of the saddle bronc competition. He'd been lucky today to escape with a kick to the chest.

"Your ribs are badly bruised. I recommend taking a few weeks off before you ride again." In order to make the National Finals Rodeo in December, Drew needed to be among the top fifteen saddle bronc riders in the country. Today was August sixth—he was running out of time. His body broke out in a sweat that had nothing to do with pain.

"You've got callus new bone formations on five of your ribs." The doctor pointed to several spots on the x-ray.

So he'd fractured a few ribs over the years—Drew had fared better than most cowboys who'd competed at the sport as long as he had."You're lucky you didn't break a rib."

"I don't need luck, doc." Drew chuckled, then winced as a flash of fiery pain snaked around his middle.

"Rib injuries are nothing to joke about." Feller leaned against the wall. "A fractured rib can puncture a lung, liver, spleen or worse."

Worse. The word sent a shiver down Drew's spine. He'd been ten years old when the famous bull rider Lane Frost had died at the Cheyenne Frontier Days Rodeo. After Frost had ridden Taking Care of Business and dismounted, the bull had turned and hit him in the side with his horn, breaking the cowboy's ribs. Frost had gotten up and headed toward the chutes, but had stumbled. When he'd hit the ground, a broken rib had severed his pulmonary artery, ending his life.

"Keep testing fate, cowboy, and you'll die with a mouthful of dirt or end up connected to a ventilator the rest of your life." The doctor waved his hand in the air. "Either way, the horse comes out the winner."

The solemn warning spawned a flashback… Drew struggled to block out today's eight-second ride, but the image of the crazed gelding's hoof coming at him while he lay unprotected in the dirt had been branded on his brain. "No worries. I don't plan to let another bronc stand on my chest." Drew was thirty-two. No longer in the prime of his life—physically. He'd been bustin' broncs for fourteen years and time was running out. If he ever had a chance at becoming a world champion, this was the year.

He needed the damned title to prove his dead father wrong—that Drew Rawlins hadn't wasted half his life chasing a crazy dream. His father had been a rising star in bareback riding when he'd gotten Drew's mother pregnant. In order to support Drew and his mother, his father had given up rodeo and helped manage his father-in-law's small-town grocery store. To this day Drew believed his father had resented him because having a family had kept the old man from achieving his dream of making it to the National Finals Rodeo. When Drew had graduated from high school and announced he intended to ride the circuit his father had scoffed, insisting Drew didn't have what it took to be a champion. Drew ignored the old man, his focus solely on winning the grand daddy of 'em all. But the big one had eluded him. Drew had made it to the NFR the year his father had died—a decade ago—but he'd placed last. Last wasn't good enough. Most cowboys with half a brain would have retired by now, but Drew had never forgotten his father's dying words before the cancer had taken him. "You ain't never gonna be as good as I was."

Angry at himself for allowing the memory to resurface, Drew inched closer to the edge of the examining table. He had plenty of experience with injured ribs. As long as he moved carefully and took shallow breaths, he could tolerate the pain.

"No rodeos for three weeks." Dr. Feller scribbled on a pad of paper.

Drew kept his mouth shut. Bruised ribs would not prevent him from competing in the final go-round on Sunday. He needed the thousand dollar jackpot to boost his earnings. The doctor handed him a prescription. "For pain."

Pain was good. If he focused on the pain, there would be no room in his head for his father's taunts. "My boots are missing," he said, after spotting his shirt thrown across the chair in the corner.

Ignoring Drew, the doctor rambled on. "You have a chance of developing pneumonia after a rib trauma. Take deep breaths and cough every hour to keep your lungs clear. An ice pack will help you feel more comfortable." He handed Drew his shirt.

"Does a nurse by the name of Hallie Sutton work here?" Drew clenched his teeth against the heat searing his side when he slipped his arm into the shirtsleeve.

"How do you know Ms. Sutton?"

Ms. Hallie hadn't married? "She put a dozen stitches in my head five years ago."

Every year Drew competed in the Bastrop Homecoming Rodeo. And each time he searched for Hallie in the stands. Once, he'd driven to the hospital to look her up but had chickened out at the last minute and left town.

Just because you never forget your one night with her doesn't mean she hasn't. He remembered walking into Cozie's bar and spotting Hallie sitting at a table with her co-workers. When their gazes met, he'd been struck by the sadness in her brown eyes and had wondered what had happened to the cheerful, talkative nurse who'd stitched his head earlier in the afternoon. The abject misery reflected in Hallie's expression had drawn him to her. Before he'd realized his actions, he'd asked her to dance. At first, she'd refused, then at the prodding of her freinds she'd allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. Drew closed his eyes as the memory swept him away…

"Want to talk about it?" he'd whispered in Hallie's ear.

"No." She'd burrowed into him as if seeking protection from whatever had tormented her.

He'd held her close and they'd danced forever—at least eight songs. Then the band had taken a break and so had Hallie's friends—they'd left the bar. Hallie's forlorn expression had yanked Drew's heartstrings. "Need a lift home?"

"I don't want to go home." Her brown eyes had shimmered with tears.

"We could keep dancing," he'd offered.

"No."

"Hungry?"

"No."

"Wanna talk?"

"Not here."

"C'mon." He'd grabbed her hand and led her outside. The August night had been warm and muggy. "There's a coffee shop down the road." When she hadn't taken him up on the suggestion he'd thrown caution to the wind. "My camper's parked a few blocks away. We could talk there."

Hallie had stared at him for the longest time before she'd slipped her arm through his. "Okay."

The one word had sent Drew's blood thundering through his veins. They'd walked in silence—Drew preparing for anything once they reached the camper—anything except Hallie jumping his bones as soon as they'd stepped inside.

Twice, he'd attempted to take the high road and put a stop to her advances. Hallie might not have been drunk, but she hadn't been herself, either. He'd been no match for her persistence. Her touches and kisses had been edged with desperation, and her urgency fueled his desire for her. Their union had been as combustible as a four-alarm fire.

"These will hold you over until you fill the prescription." The doctor held out two pain pills and a Dixie cup of water.

"Thanks." Drew tossed back the medicine.

"If you suffer nausea, dizziness or have trouble breathing—"

"I know the routine."

The noise out of Feller's mouth sounded like the snort a bull gives when a cowboy settles onto its back. Shaking his head, the doctor left the cubicle, white coat tails flapping in his wake.

Drew closed his eyes and focused on the pain. Pain, he could handle.
Giving up rodeo, he could not.


To help kick off my Rodeo rebels series, I've written a *FREE* online read at www.eharlequin.com called The Bull Rider's Surrender. Join the discussion at the end of each chapter and your name will automatically be entered into a drawing for an autographed copy of Rodeo Daddy.

Happy Reading!



www.marinthomas.com

Badlands Of South Dakota

Whenever I read a historical romance which is set in the Old West I'm always fascinated by the historical tidbits of information the author includes in the story setting and her characters. A long time ago after visiting a very special place in America, I decided I wanted to write a historical romance revolving around that special place. I started the book but never finished it. Maybe someday I'll return to that story before the memories of the Badlands fade from my mind. If you ever have the chance to visit the Black Hills of South Dakota you'll understand why I believe the area would make a fantastic setting for a historical romance. I feel fortunate I was able to visit Custer State Park, Mount Rushmore and the Crazy Horse monument as well as many off-the-road tourist attractions in the area.

There's nothing like having to stop for a herd of buffalo, thundering across the road in front of your car to imagine Indians on horseback chasing the majestic animals. Until the trip to Custer State Park I had only viewed buffalo up close in zoos. Seeing them in the wild, twenty feet from your car window gives you a sense of the awe these animals inspired in Indians and buffalo hunters.



The drive to Mount Rushmore was a little harrowing for us—we had to pull off the road when a sudden hail storm hit. Afterward the sun came out and we followed the rainbow up to the monument.


During a prospecting expedition in 1885, Mount Rushmore was named after Charles E. Rushmore, a New York lawyer. Originally the mountain was known to the Lakota Sioux as Six Grandfathers. As Six Grandfathers, the mountain was part of the route that Lakota leader Black Elk took in a spiritual journey that culminated at Harney Peak. From 1876 to 1877, the United States asserted control over the area, a claim that is disputed on the basis of the 1868 Treaty of Fort Laramie. Among white American settlers, the peak was known as Cougar Mountain, Sugarloaf Mountain, Slaughterhouse Mountain, and Keystone Cliffs.

South Dakota historian Doane Robinson is credited with conceiving the idea of carving the likenesses of famous people into the Black Hills of South Dakota in order to promote tourism in the region. Sculptor Gutzon Borglum decided the likenesses of four presidents would be carved into the mountain. Borglum's choice of presidents is not without controversy. Some allege he chose Washington, Lincoln, Jefferson and Roosevelt because the four men ruled during the time of the acquisition of Native American lands. Gutzon Borglum was a white supremacist and active member of the Ku Klux Klan. After securing federal funding, construction on the memorial began in 1927, and the presidents' faces were completed between 1934 and 1939.

Not everyone approved of the decision to carve four American presidents on a mountain that held spiritual significance for the Lakota tribe. In response, a memorial to Crazy Horse is being carved in the Black Hills 17 miles away from Mount Rushmore. I was lucky enough to see this monument up close. Once completed the Crazy Horse Memorial will be the largest outdoor sculpture in the world. Work began in 1948 by sculptor Korczak Ziolkowski. Though the sculptor died in 1982, his wife and family continue the work with the Crazy Horse memorial Foundation.





Crazy Horse was born on the Republican River around 1845 and was killed at Fort Robinson, Nebraska in 1877, barely living thirty-three years. Below is a photo claimed to be of Crazy Horse but historians argue that the few photos floating around of the great warrior are not him because Crazy Horse refused to allow his photograph to be taken.



Anyone else care to share a favorite place that's found its way into a book, poem, song, or short story you've written?

Marin Thomas
Harlequin American Romance
Roughneck Cowboy Feb 2011
Rodeo Daddy April 2011
The Bull Rider's Secret July 2011
www.marinthomas.com

Roughneck Heroes

New release--Roughneck Cowboy *Men of the West* (Feb 2011) by Marin Thomas


Blood Is Thicker Than Oil
When his mom passed, roughneck Travis Cartwright thought he’d lost the only family he and his daughter Charlie had. That is until he discovers an estranged father and siblings living just a few hours away. They might be strangers, but they’re blood; and Travis needs to protect Charlie should tragedy strike at his dangerous job.

Dominick Cartwright offers his son more than peace of mind. He gives Travis a new job, a place to live, and a side project--to convince Dominick’s stubborn neighbor, Sara Sanders, to sell her ranch. Travis is confident he can smooth talk the plain-Jane teacher into selling quickly; but there’s more to Sara than meets the eye. Soon Travis loses sight of his mission…and his heart.

As their relationship grows, they uncover painful family secrets, and Dominick’s real motives. Then, the sparks fly!

Romantic Times Magazine ★★★★
The question in this romantic family tale that is both witty and realistic is whether the couple can overcome the shadows of their parents’ mistakes to find their own happiness.—Pat Cooper

Why a Roughneck for a contemporary romance hero? These rough and tumble men have always fascinated me. These guys don't flinch when hot oil splatters their hard-hats or drips down the back of their necks. Their duties on the "rig" consist of pulling cables, chains and thongs around the platform for eight to twelve hours per shift. They work in terrible weather conditions on rigs in the middle of the ocean or rigs in the middle of nowhere Oklahoma. They're risk-takers by nature and genuinely fearless individuals. While researching material for my story I learned some fascinating facts about Oklahoma.



The setting for Roughneck Cowboy is outside Tulsa in the fictional town of Tulapoint, OK. The oil history of this state dates back to 1859 when oil seeps, known to Indians as "Medicine springs" were discovered in Indian Territory. The first unintentional oil find was made near Chelsea, OK in 1889 and it produced one half barrel per day. In 1897 The Nellie Johnstone #1, the first commercial well drilled in OK hit pay dirt in the Bartlesville Dewey Field in Washington County. Tulsa changed from a small frontier town to a boomtown.



The discovery of oil in 1901 at Red Fork, a small community southwest of Tulsa on the opposite side of the Arkansas River brought in wildcatters and investors. In 1901, an official survey was done and streets lay out and neighborhoods were established in Tulsa on the opposite side of the river from the drilling sites. In 1905 the Glenn pool oil field was discovered. The strike created such a large supply of oil Tulsans were forced to build storage tanks for the excess oil and later pipelines. Tulsa soon became a leader in the growing petroleum industry, resulting in many oil companies choosing Tulsa for their home base. In 1906 Oklahoma Natural gas Company was formed. In 1907 Oklahoma and the Indian territories became the State of Oklahoma. Also in 1907 Oklahoma becomes the largest oil producer, with Tulsa claiming the title of "Oil Capitol of the World." Below is a picture of an oil-producing well that sat out front of the Oklahoma City capitol building in 1939.



A second oil boom hit Oklahoma between the years of 1925-1930. The population rose over 72,000 and many of the new residents came from Pennsylvania, Ohio and New York. Wealthy oilmen Waite Phillips, William Kelly and J. Paul Getty built their mansions and modern headquarters in the state. Another community that flourished in Tulsa was greenwood. It was the largest and wealthiest of Oklahoma's African American communities and was known as "Black Wall Street." The neighborhood was a hotbed of jazz, and blues music in the 1920's. The area over 600 businesses and 36 square blocks with a population of 15,000 African Americans. "Black Wall Street" is now also sadly remembered as a "Black" mark in the state's history. On June 1, 1921 one of America's most affluent all-black communities was bombed from the air and burned to the ground by mobs of envious whites. It took fewer than 12 hours to destroy the model community. Over 3,000 African Americans died, over 600 businesses were lost: 21 churches, 21 restaurants, 30 grocery stores, 2 movie theaters, a hospital, a bank, a post office, libraries, schools, law offices, a half dozen private airplanes, and even a bus system.



Like a lot of western states, Oklahoma's history is filled with men and women who've risked their lives performing dangerous jobs in order to provide for their families. You'll find that pioneering spirit in Travis Cartwright, my hero for Roughneck Cowboy.

A Roughneck's Dream--Author Unknown

I was working in the oil fields one cold West Texas day,
And there on the rig floor a dying roughneck lay,
He said, "I am off to the Big Rig, the Big Rig I'm told
Where the crown is purest silver, and the kelly's made of gold
Where a diamond studded cat line hangs from a pearl gin pole,
And the the driller makes all the connections,
and you never come out of the hole.

I run a Wild West Trivia Contest each month in my author newsletter. Sign up for my newsletter at http://www.marinthomas.com/  and I'll send you my February Wild West Trivia Question. E-mail the correct answer to marin@marinthomas.com  and I'll enter your name into a drawing for an autographed copy of Roughneck Cowboy.

Roughneck Cowboy *Men of the West* (Feb 2011)
Harlequin American Romance
By Marin ThomasISBN 9780373753451
Available Now in stores & through online retailers!

Happy Reading!

Mail Order Bride Romances

I write contemporary western romances but I have a fondness for historical westerns with Mail Order Bride plots. A contemporary Mail Order bride story that stuck with me long after reading it was Annie in the Morning by Curtiss Ann Matlock. (SSE) There's something very romantic about a man and a woman agreeing to take a leap of faith and marrying each other after exchanging only a handful of letters.

I love strong heroines and Mail Order Brides are among the strongest fictional heroines out there. It takes a very brave (or desperate) woman to travel West alone, straight into the arms of a strange man. Mail Order Brides were a sturdy breed, courageous and possessed a sense of adventure. What drove women to marry a practical stranger—a chance to escape poverty or the servant job they were stuck in or the fear of dying a spinster. If not for women, the West would never have become civilized. Women, not men, saw the need for schools, churches and libraries.

Often the humor in the Mail Order Bride plots is derived from the hero, heroine or both attempting to dupe the other. The hero implying in his advertisement that he is five-feet-ten inches tall and solid muscle, wealthy and owns a large parcel of fertile land. The heroine answering the hero's advertisement with a glowing description of her beauty (and a photo of a women other than herself) and her impressive homemaking skills. Many of the brides arrived only to discover their new husband had one change of clothing, lived in a shanty and owned nothing but the tin plate he used to pan for gold. In turn, the man discovered his new wife was taller, broader and uglier than himself and couldn't bake a decent loaf of bread if her life depended on it.

I highly recommend reading Hearts West: True Stories of Mail-Order Brides on the Frontier by Chriss Enss (2005) This is a terrific book!

Hearts West includes more than a dozen stories of courageous mail order brides and their exploits. Accompanying the text are actual advertisements placed by both women seeking husbands and men seeking brides.



Following are actual advertisements Enss included in her book:

Wanted: A girl who will love, honest, true not sour; a nice little cooing dove and willing to work in flour:"

"A gentleman of 26 years old, 5 feet 3 inches, doing a good business in the city, desires the acquaintance of a young intelligent and refined lady possessed of some means, of a loving disposition from 18 to 23, and one who could make home a paradise."

"An intelligent young fellow of 22 years, 6 feet height, weight 170 pounds Would like to correspond with a lady from 18 to 22. Will exchange photos: object, fun and amusement, and perhaps when acquainted, if suitable, matrimony."

"A lively widower of 40, looking much younger, 5 feet 7 inches high, weighing 145 pounds would like to correspond with some maiden or widow ladyof honor who would like a good home, kind husband and plenty."

"A lady, 23, tall, fair and good looking, without means, would like to hear from a gentleman of position wanting a wife. She is well educated, accomplished, amiable, and affectionate."

If you have any "Mail-Order Bride" stories in your family tree, I'd love to hear about them!

Marin Thomas
Roughneck Cowboy *Men of the West* Feb 2011
The Bull Rider's Surrender E-HQ March 2011
Rodeo Daddy *Rodeo Rebels* April 2011
The Bull Rider's Secret *Rodeo Rebels* July 2011
Riley's Story (w.t.) *Rodeo Rebels* Dec 2011
www.marinthomas.com

Marin Thomas *Love off the Beaten Path*

A Romantic Times Magazine
4 1/2 Stars Top Pick!

For This Cowboy, Family Comes First

Josie Charles was back in town, and Dexter Cody desired her as much as ever. She was his twin brother’s girl, but it was hard to act honorable when all he wanted was to stake his claim on the woman and her boy. Sooner or later, his brother was going to step up and do the right thing. And when that time came, would Dexter be able to step aside and lose Josie all over again?

No way was Josie losing her heart to the sexy-as-all-get-out rancher. The last thing the single mother needed was another Cody messing with her life. But her high school pal had sure grown into one fine-looking cowboy. Caring. Hardworking. Responsible. Exactly the kind of man she’d want to be a father to her son.

Which one is the right brother? Looks as if there’s going to be a showdown...

If your a fan of contemporary cowboys, I hope you'll check out the first ever multi-author series by Harlequin American Romance called The Codys:First Family of Rodeo. Dexter: Honorable Cowboy is book #2 in the series. For information on all six books please visit my website http://www.marinthomas.com/

Dexter is a fraternal twin and the first "twin" hero I've ever written as well as the first book where an editor told me exactly what my hero and heroine's conflicts were, what their names were, ages, and even some of their backstory. It was truly a unique and interesting writing experience and one I would repeat in a heartbeat!

If you're a last minute Christmas shopper looking for a stocking stuffer for the romance reader in your life you can purchase Dexter: Honorable Cowboy (July 2010) at http://www.amazon.com/ or other online retailers. Or....you can win a copy right here.

Leave a comment today on my blog and I'll choose one winner late tonight and post their name in the comment section of this same blog. Check back to see if you've won then contact me with your snail mail address and I'll send the book out ASAP... in time for you to put it in your stocking or a friends!

REVIEWS

This book held its own in the Codys: First Family of Rodeo series, and I’m absolutely glad I got the chance to read it. It’ll join my other Marin Thomas books on the keeper shelf. If you like a hot cowboy, a fun set of characters and are looking for something a little different to do on the back of a mechanical bull, then you should grab yourself a copy of this book. Despite being part of a series, it stands alone nicely (I know, because I read this one first!) and you could do much worse than picking this up and giving it a read. I’m betting you’ll enjoy it."
~ Poppy Longandshortreviews.blogspot.com


★★★★ ½ Top Pick!
DEXTER: HONORABLE COWBOY (4.5) by Marin Thomas: Dexter Cody was always cleaning up his twin brother’s messes. Now he’s dealing with the biggest mess of all and enjoying every moment. Josie Charles, the girl Dex loved in high school and his brother’s girlfriend, has returned home with his brother’s son. Unfortunately, she neglected to mention it to anyone, including the boy’s father. With his brother off trying to come to terms with being a father, Dex steps in and falls for Josie all over again. This time she’s tumbling just as fast. Will Dex stand up for himself and fight for what he wants, or will he step aside for his brother’s ready-made family? Thomas’ characters are wonderful and colorful, and readers will enjoy Dexter’s struggle to do the honorable thing.
~ Pat Cooper RT Book Reviews

Excerpt

Stinky.

Two thousand pounds of mulish, malodorous stench.

Dexter Cody had drawn a rodeo bull famous for its rank smell and cranky disposition.

"Cowboy up!" Dexter's competitor hollered.

The setting sun cast long shadows of the cowboys gathered around the bucking chutes at the Sweetwater County Fair in Lander, Wyoming. Soon, the fairground lights would wash the arena in a warm glow, the oppressive July heat would ease and hooves would pummel the dirt along with a few unlucky cowpokes.

Adrenaline pumped through Dexter's veins and he cursed the protective vest preventing him from sucking in a deep breath. A trickle of sweat beaded at his temple, then dripped down his cheek as he and Stinky exchanged evil-eyed glares.

A quick glance into the stands confirmed that none of his siblings were in attendance. Good. Dexter didn't relish falling flat on his face in front of family. And if word got back to his mother that he'd ridden a bull—just for fun—she'd lop his head off. His dismal track record in the event didn't dampen his love for the sport. He wished he possessed half the talent of his older brother, Jesse, who excelled at bull riding. Instead, Dexter and his fraternal twin, Dusty, team roped together—which wasn't nearly as exciting as bustin' bulls.

Dexter didn't care to delve too deeply into his attraction to the widow-makers. At twenty-seven years of age, his bull-riding days—even for fun—were numbered. He limited his participation in the event to a few times a year—when he reached his limit of pissed off. This evening, thanks to his twin, Dexter's pissed-off tank overflowed. Most days he was content to toe the line and assume his fair share of responsibility for the Cot-tonwood Ranch working horses. But for the past month Dusty's habit of disappearing at the most inopportune times grated on Dexter's nerves.

A twinge of guilt pricked his hide. Dexter's sour mood wasn't solely the result of his brother's less-than-stellar work ethic. Dexter admitted his ornery feelings had intensified since his brother Walker had been a double winner at the Cody Roundup this past Sunday. Not only had Walker taken first place in the steer-wrestling event but he'd also landed a bride. Walker and his new wife, Paula, were a perfect match and their happiness only made Dexter more aware of the sad state of his own love life.

Shaking off the depressing thoughts, he inched closer to the chute. A whiff of bull schnocker shot up his nose. Good ol' Stinky had dropped a cow patty the size of a dinner plate.

"Ladies and gents, before we kick off America's first extreme sport we got a special treat for y'all. Trick rider Cheyenne Dakota's gonna do a little showin' off on her horse Belle."

Applause broke out when the beautiful cowgirl rode into the arena, her long black hair flying in the air. Dexter had run into Cheyenne at several rodeos through the years and the one time he'd attempted to strike up a conversation with her, she'd given him the brush-off. Not even Dusty, who had a reputation of charming the jeans off most women, had been able to cozy up to the full-blooded Native American. Cheyenne did a handstand on the back of her horse, then flipped upright and raced from the arena.

The crowd quieted and cowboys covered their hearts with their hats when the Barclay sisters took stage and belted out "The Star Spangled Banner" with a cowboy twang. Finally, heads bowed as the announcer prayed for the cowboys and the great United States of America.

Forcing his attention to the task at hand, Dexter climbed the chute rails and settled onto Stinky's back. The heat from the animal's body cooked the inside of his thighs as he worked the bull rope between the pinkie and index fingers of his gloved hand, clenching and unclenching the nylon.

"All right, folks, it's time for a little bull bustin'!" The crowd roared. "Y'all know these daredevil cowboys have to keep their seat for eight seconds if they're gonna have a chance at winnin' any money."

"Lookin' a might peaked, hoss." Dwayne Kettle wasn't any better at bull riding than Dexter, but the cowboy liked to believe he was.

"Just gettin' high on Stinky." Dexter sniffed the air, then frowned. "Or maybe it's you I smell." Nothing curled a nose worse than a cowboy's armpit soaked with fear.

"Ladies and gentlemen…turn your attention to chute number three. Dexter Cody is about to tangle with Stinky! Dexter's part of the Cody clan over there in Markton. His older brother Jesse's a contender for the NFR in bull riding. Let's see how Jesse's little brother does today."

"Ready?" The gate man nodded to Dexter.

As I'll ever be. When the gate opened, Stinky shot into the arena flinging Dexter side to side. He clamped his back teeth together and raised his right arm high into the air. Stinky swung his head and bull spit slapped Dexter across the face. Shit. Distracted, he lost count of the seconds in his head.

Not that it mattered. Stinky spun right, left, then right again in quick succession, catapulting Dexter through the air. He landed in the dirt. Hard. Instinct kicked in, and he rolled in time to avoid a stomping from Stinky's hooves. The bull fighters closed in to distract the enraged animal, but when Dexter crawled to his knees, Stinky charged.

The image of his mother crying at his funeral spurred Dexter to his feet. Just as he reached for safety, the bull's horns caught him in the seat, pitching him over the arena rails. For the second time in less than eight seconds, Dexter landed in the dirt.

"Best leave the bull ridin' to your brother." Kettle chuckled.

Shut up. Dexter spit dirt from his mouth. When the world stopped spinning, a pair of red cowboy boots came into focus inches from his nose. Then a feminine hand appeared before his face. He reached for the slim fingers with pink-painted nails and scrambled to get his legs under him. Once upright, his mouth sagged open.

"Josie?"

"Hello, Dex."

"Been a long time." Nine years hadn't left much of a mark on Dusty's former high-school sweetheart—the girl Dexter had secretly coveted. Josie's face was leaner, more finely sculpted, but her brown eyes were as big as he'd remembered. Her freckles, which he'd always been a fan of, had faded except for the smattering across the bridge of her nose. The strawberry-blond hair was shorter—the locks brushing her shoulders. She wore a white Western shirt with black horses stitched across her small, perfect… He dropped his gaze from her breasts to the leather belt cinching her narrow waist.

"Better luck next time." Josie smiled a tad crookedly.


Happy Holidays!

Marin
Roughneck Cowboy *Men of the West* Feb 2011
The Bull Rider's Surrender E-HQ Weekly Read March 2011
Rodeo Daddy *Rodeo Rebels* April 2011
The Bull Rider's Secret *Rodeo Rebels* July 2011
www.marinthomas.com

Soiled Doves of the Old West

The Old West is full of legends…cowboys, gunslingers, Indians, pioneers, outlaws, Marshalls and "soiled doves".



What would a true western novel be without a brothel, cathouse or crib? There are several madams who made their mark on the Old West, but the parlor houses that were most profitable were the ones run by an adept business woman, flaunted elegant furnishings and boasted the most beautiful girls. Those Madams not only turned a profit but had a wealth of real estate, fine horses and material goods.

The finer brothels prided themselves on setting a good table, offering choice cigars and the finest liquor and wine to their male clientele and some would only allow the girls in the house to be seen by appointment. Parlor houses averaged six to twelve girls and the madam entertained only those customers she personally selected. Much of the profit in brothels came from drinks served, which were higher in price than the local saloons. The most successful madams maintained a strict air of respectability and a "charming home life" on the main floor of their houses, insisting the girls wear corsets when in public. Even though parlor houses were not accepted by society, the madams paid their share of community taxes and fines to corrupt law officers. They also contributed heavily to community charities.

Pearl de Vere, Cripple Creek, Colorado's famous madam was known to charge a $1,000 for her personal services. She catered only to the prosperous men of Cripple Creek and her girls were the most beautiful of any parlor in the mining camp. They wore fine clothing, received monthly medical exams and were paid well. Pearl was known to "prance" through the camp daily in a small open carriage led by a team of expensive black horses. Dressed in a different beautiful costume every outing her clothes were the envy of the respectable women in the camp.

Other famous "soiled Doves" of the Old West were Mary Elizabeth "Libby" Haley Thompson better known as Squirrel Tooth Alice because of the gap in her front teeth.



At age ten she was kidnapped by the Comanche and held prisoner for three years. After her release she was considered a "marked woman" and shunned by society. She ran away from home and turned to prostitution to support herself. Libby set up a dance hall and brothel in Sweetwater, Texas which she ran until 1921 when she retired. Libby died in 1953 at the age of 98 in a rest home in Los Angeles.

Dora Dufran was considered the Blackhill's leading madam.



Aside from her parlor house in Deadwood, South Dakota she established branch houses in Sturgis, Rapid City and Belle Fourche. In her early days in Deadwood, she became a friend and occasional employer to Calamity Jane, who sometimes worked as a prostitute. She was also said to have had a "heart of gold," often providing nursing services to those in need and helping the poverty stricken. Sometime after moving to Deadwood, she married a man named Joseph DuFran, a gentleman gambler, who not only wasn't bothered by her profession, but helped her to grow her business.

In 1909, Dora's husband Joseph died at the age of 47 and Dora returned to Rapid City, where she set up another brothel, which became popular during the Prohibition years and served as a speakeasy. Dora DuFran died at the age of 60. Her obituary in the Black Hills Pioneer mourned the passing of "a noted social worker.” Her grave is marked by four urns that feature grinning imps, symbolizing the four brothels that she had owned.

Soiled Doves lived a hard life but no matter what your opinion of their chosen profession, these women shaped the American West and found a way to survive and even thrive in a man's world. For those of you whose family roots go back generations in the Old West, can you claim any "soiled doves" in your family?

Marin
Roughneck Cowboy (Feb 2011)
Rodeo Daddy (April 2011)
Harlequin American Romance
www.marinthomas.com

Cowboy Slang

If you write either contemporary or historical Western romances then you know how difficult it is to create authentic cowboys who "talk the walk."

I write contemporary cowboy stories so my heroes are fairly educated, but I love to throw in a few quirky characters—usually geezers—who are throwbacks to the "olden days." In order to make those characters realistic to my readers I turn to two of my favorite books: Cowboy Slang and Cowboys Talk Right Purdy by Edgar "Frosty" Potter.

One reason I have my secondary characters use colorful language is that their phrases conjur up word pictures, which add humor to my writing—most of my readers expect a little "cowboy" humor in my books. Here are a few examples of phrases from "Frosty's" book that trigger word pictures in the reader's mind.

"A man that straddles a fence usually has a sore crotch."


"His hoss throwed him forked-end up."


"She didn't wear 'nough clothes to dust a fiddle."


Below are some of my favorite Cowboy Sayings:
Blind: So blind he couldn't see through a bobwire fence.
Big: As broad beamed and cow-hocked as a Holstein's behind.
Braggart: He was full of wind as a bull in corn time.
Bronc Rider: I got throwed so high I could've said my prayers before I lit.
Courting: Thet little feller with a bow an' arrer can shore bugger up a cowboy.
Dead: He'd saddled a cloud an' rode to the great beyond.
Drunk: He drank so much hair oil he had to eat moth-balls to keep down the fur.
Dumb: He couldn't hit a bull's ass with a banjo.
Fighting: I squirted 'nough lead into him to make it a payin' job to melt him down.
Religion: Most of his religion was in his wife's name.
Swearing: He could make a bull-whacker's cussin' sound like a Methodist sermon.

Do you have a memorable line one of your characters has said...or have you read a book with a character whose language and words made him or memorable?

Marin
Roughneck Cowboy (Feb 2011)
Rodeo Daddy (April 20110)
www.marinthomas.com