A Genealogy Chart for Characters?

The Camerons of Texas
Have you ever created a genealogy chart for a fictional family you invented for novels? If no one says 'yes,' I may feel a little foolish. I did just that after I'd written and published three  Western Historical novels under the subtitle--The Camerons of Texas.

In each couple's story, the hero and heroine were not the only characters in the books. There were parents,  stepchildren, adopted children, brothers, sisters, and cousins. A large clan of Camerons. In my mind, I had enough material for about a dozen more stories. Today, I'm at least making a dent in my list.

In TEXAS BLUE, the hero Buck Cameron, had two sisters who appeared in the story. The first was Charlotte who had married William Garrison. Their two children were Maximilian and Katherine--Max and Kat.

~*~I used a grown-up Max in a novella "Dime Novel" titled Angel and the Cowboy.

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=celia+yeary
ALL MY DIME NOVELS, AS WELL AS EVERYTHING ELSE CAN BE FOUND ON AMAZON.

~*~I used Charlotte in another  "Dime Novel" titled Charlotte and the Tenderfoot.

~*~Now, Kat and the U.S. Marshal is submitted as another Dime Novel and I'm waiting on a release date.  Kat is Max's sister from Angel and the Cowboy.

I agree this can be confusing, and that's the reason I made the chart. We authors feel like normal people, don't we? Even though we have characters in our heads and hearts that are very real. Any non-author cannot understand this, and so I don't talk about it to anyone except others such as I.

Unless I get a serious mental block, I have a list of characters for future novels or novellas.
For Example:
~*~Lee Cameron King--he appeared in Texas Blue as a small boy who picked his nose and rode imaginary horses around the yard. I'd like to make him an early 20th Century entrepreneur  during the oil boom in Texas--a wildcatter, a risk taker, a rich man with money to make money, a tough businessman who has a big sense of humor. I'd have him run into a real buzz-saw, a serious woman who is investigating oil company monopolies for a New York newspaper.

~*~Jackson Rene Deleon--he was the baby boy in Texas True. I see Jackson grown up and the heir to the great Deleon fortune. At a young age, he becomes the head of an empire consisting of ranching in Texas, gold and silver mines in Colorado, and shipping lines out of Houston. I'd have him meet a titled British lady whom he must convince to marry him and live in South Texas on the ranch--the headquarters for the Texas Star Corporation his father formed.

~*~Lacy Deleon--she was the little niece of Sam Deleon in Texas True, born in the Flats in Austin, a prostitution area where she and her little brother, Antonio, were born and lived. When True Cameron married Sam Deleon, she found the small girl and boy and brought them home, causing a huge problem. But True was determined to raise them as their own children. Lacy, now grown into a proper young lady, discovers her lurid birthplace and challenges the local government to do something. She would meet a brash, young attorney/senator and entice him to help her.

~*~Antonio Deleon--Lacy's wild little brother in Texas True. He was a hellion as a kid, although lovable and good-hearted. But he didn't understand the word "no." I see him grown and sowing too many wild oats and getting in trouble. I'd like him to meet a strong-willed female rancher who challenges him to straighten up and learn to be a man.

~*~Laura Lynn Paxton--Jo King's half-niece in Texas Promise .  Beauty Laura Lynn has such a horrible past she knows little about, but sets out to find the burial place of her prostitution mother in New Mexico. In doing so, she hires a tracker to help her.

~*~Alexander King--son of Dalton and Jo King in Texas Promise. I have high hopes for the darling child. Just look at his name. He has it all--handsome, rich, smart, educated, adored by the entire family...and takes it all for granted. Until...what? His story will require much thought.

NOTE: Texas Promise and Texas True have a new home at Publishing by Rebecca J. Vickery. Both will be re-released by September, with new covers, and available in ebook as well as prints. I am thrilled with this development for these two stories. Thank you. 
Celia Yeary-Romance...and a little bit 'o Texas
My Website
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Please...help. ~Tanya Hanson, donkey lover

http://www.change.org/petitions/van-horn-texas-chamber-of-commerce-donkey-roping-must-be-stopped

  

Ten years ago, my kids “adopted” two abused donkeys for me at the Safe Haven for Donkeys (SHAD)  in Israel, and I’ve long been a fan of these gentle, sentient creatures. They get a bad rap about being stubborn, when the fact is they’re too smart to do stupid things.

Sometimes, they have no choice and are forced into man’s nonsense. Just a few days ago through Facebook, I learned about the horrible “sport" of donkey roping, a cruel practice where the donkey is shocked with a cattle prod until he tries to run away. Once in motion, two people on horseback run the donkey down, one throwing a rope around its neck, the other around its rear legs. Once roped the donkey is then stretched between the two horses. Broken bones and death are all too common during these events.

Whether or not this is the type of post you readers and my fellow Sweethearts want to see here, I can’t help posting this today. I’ve been sick to my stomach since learning that ”donkey roping” is a featured as a sport at the upcoming Van Horn, Texas, Rodeo. I can’t even put into words how this sport isn’t just ridicule, it’s horrific abuse. To think little kids cheer this on!

I’ve got five-year old grandson. At our county fair, the Sicilian donkey in the baby barn is his favorite critter to pet. Good heavens, the donkey brought the Lord into Jerusalem and His mom to Bethlehem!

I’m asking you to click on the link above and sign the petition to halt this horrible event scheduled for June 23. Already 3,500 online signatures have been gathered. With your help, we can do it!

These darling critters do have a friend at the Van Horn Chamber of Commerce, but Ms. Golden is NOT a decision maker. However, she has offered several suggestions.

Please direct NICE, conciliatory phone calls to Jason Owen of Dos Gringo Productions. 432-940-9051, the donkeys’ owner who permits this torture. We need to convince him to understand how this abuse permanently affects their lives and is dreadful thing for children to see.

Also, it is also important to direct emails to Larry Simpson, editor at The Van Horn Advocate: lsimpson@vanhornadvocate.com.  Letters to the editor could go a long way for Ms. Golden to show the city administrators the ongoing media pressure to end this.

Note that she advises us all to “catch flies” with honey rather than with vinegar. Yeah. We’re angry and appalled but need to rein in our emotions. And of course, we realize most Texans do not take part of this cruelty nor do they support it. On my visit to Bandera, Texas 18 months ago, I attended a Friday night rodeo. NOTHING like this was performed, and I fell in love with every single performer and critter.

If just one person out there could call, sign the petition. Send a letter, then maybe the magic will happen and we’ll spare some darling donkeys this abiding misery. We've got a week.

Next time, I’ll talk about the young adult novel I just sold. But seeing the picture of this precious baby, I haven't been able to stop the tears

~Tanya Hanson

www.tanyahanson.com 

A Little About Me

By Anna Kathryn Lanier

Hello from the Great Smoky Mountains. No, I don’t live in this wonderful spot on Earth, but I am visiting it. As many of you may know, I am a big fan of Brenda Novak’s Auction for Diabetes Research. Well, last year, I won an auction for a week’s stay in Pigeon Forge, TN.  And this is the week I’m taking the vacation with one of daughters and two of my grandchildren.  So far, we are having a wonderful time.

In Cade's Cove - Great Smoky Mountains National Park

Right now, I live outside Houston, TX.  Having been an Air Force brat growing up and then moving around a bit after marrying I have lived in 8 states: Kansas, California, North Caroline, Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, Louisiana, and West Virginia. I lived in Texas, New Mexico and Louisiana twice. I also lived on Guam and was an exchange student to Finland while in high school.  Unlike some people, I enjoy moving and traveling. I like meeting new people and seeing new places.

I have written or told stories as far back as I can remember. My first novel was written while I was still in high school and my first romance in my early twenties.  I sent a novel into Harlequin, who rejected it. I mean, who knew you needed an agent, a synopsis or even a query letter?

Since I was a mother by this time, I gave up writing for a few years to be a mother and wife.  In about 2002, I took up writing again and wrote two novels in 6 months. Then I took a creative writing class at the local junior college and learned I knew nothing about how to write, including formatting.  My teacher for that class told me to check out Romance Writers of America and I joined the organization, as well as a local Houston writer’s group, Bay Area Writer’s League.

I was first published in an anthology BAWL put out.  That short story was revamped a few years later as A COWBOY’S DREAM for The Wild Rose Press. But, I’m getting a little ahead of myself.

After working on several novels, I tried my hand at short stories and found I like writing them. I hooked up with one publisher where I had four stories published in various anthologies. Unfortunately, I had a problem with the way I was being treated by the co-publisher and decided to leave them.  At this point, I was still interested in writing Regency historicals, though none of my currently published works was of that time period.

Then a friend told me about The Wild Rose Press, who at that time was looking for Christmas stories set in the west.  I sat down and wrote a short story in four days and sent it in. THE PERFECT GIFT came out a few short months later and I was hooked on cowboys!  Since then, I’ve published three other stories with The Wild Rose Press, the other two being SALVATION BRIDE and A GIFT BEYOND MEASURE. The third is the already mentioned A COWBOY’S DREAM.

For the past year I have not done much writing. Life got in the way, but I do plan to take up my life-long passion again soon.  In the meantime, I am enjoying life with my husband of 25 years, my two daughters, Tiffany and Holly and my three grandchildren, Emma, Ethan, and Lacey. 

And I’ve decided to live by the saying: Never let your memories be greater than your dreams. ~Doug Ivester 

Find out more about me at:

www.aklanier.com 

annakathrynlanier.blogspot.com

Anna Kathryn Lanier

Spirit Trilogy

The third book of my Spirit Trilogy, Spirit of the Sky released in May. The Spirit Trilogy is set among the Nez Perce Indians of NE Oregon in the 1700's and 1800’s. It required extensive research to make the lives of the Nez Perce as factual as possible and the events that happened to them at the time.

The paranormal or fantasy aspects of the stories stem from the three siblings who are Nez Perce spirits. They’re shape shifters who watch over the Wallowa band of Nimiipuu(Nez Perce) as animals but can also take the shape of their human counterparts and also shift into smoke and enter other people.

The siblings were made spirits and given the task to watch over the Lake Nimiipuu by the Creator after their father was greedy and thought only of himself, getting many warriors of a northern band of Nimiipuu who had blonde hair and blue eyes killed.

Himiin(Hee-meen) or Wolf prefers the white wolf form to watch over the people of his mountain. He tries the hardest to not be like their father and to always think of others. But because he has the shortest fuse and patience he cannot leave the mountain or he will turn to smoke.

Wewukiye(Way-woo-kee-ya) or Bull Elk prefers to travel about the area as a Bull Elk. He is impressive with his massive antlers and wide chest. But he is the happy-go-lucky jokester of the three and finds it humorous he is the legend told to children that if they misbehave the antlered creature of the lake will come out during the night and take them away. He lives in the lake and has on occasion been seen emerging from the lake which prompted the legend, which is a true legend.

Sa-qan(Saw-kawn) Bald Eagle is the younger sister of the other two. She was given the ability to fly great distances, converse with the Creator, and keep her brothers in line. While she isn’t as fearful of being like her father as Himiin, she takes her duty seriously and has her feathers ruffled many times over the ages but not nearly as badly as when her brothers fall in llove with mortals.

Each sibling finds a mate in their book and Sa-qan finds hers reluctantly as she follows the Lake Nimiipuu during their flight to freedom while being chased by the Army trying to force them onto a reservation.

Blurb for Spirit of the Sky

To save her from oppression, he must save her whole tribe. To give her his heart, he must desert his career…

When the US Army forces the Nimiipuu from their land, Sa-qan, the eagle spirit entrusted with watching over her tribe, steps in to save her mortal niece. Challenging the restrictions of the spirit world, Sa-qan assumes human form and finds an unexpected ally in a handsome cavalry officer.

Certain she is a captive, Lt. Wade Watts, a Civil War veteran, tries to help the blonde woman he finds sheltering a Nez Perce child. While her intelligent eyes reveal she understands his language, she refuses his help. But when Wade is wounded, it is the beautiful Sa-qan who tends him. Wade wishes to stop the killing—Sa-qan will do anything to save her people.

Can their differences save her tribe? Or will their love spell the end of the Nimiipuu?

Excerpt

     She smiled and his heart leapt into his throat. He thought her beautiful from the first moment he saw her standing in the river fiercely protecting the child, but watching her tense face relax and smile, he was smitten. A light and pleasing calm washed over him for the first time in a very long time. He could only bask in the moment briefly. They were enemies.

    “I am from the sky, and I watch over the Nimiipuu.” She nodded her head and flashed him with yet another smile. “You may call me Angel.”

    “Only if you call me Wade.”

     She nodded. “Let me check your wounds. You have moved around.”

     “Why are you taking such good care of me when your warriors left me for dead?”

     Her sunshine gaze peered straight into his eyes. “You saved my niece at the village and the wounded from the Bannock scout. You do not have the thirst to kill like the other soldiers.” She bowed her head and removed the blood encrusted bandage from his shoulder. “The Nimiipuu need you.”

     Her touch warmed his body, tingling the areas around his wounds. He glanced at her small, delicate hands hovering over his injuries. He shut his eyes, and then opened them. Her hands shimmered as if in a fog. His pain subsided, in fact, his body felt well rested.

     A soft lyrical chant rose from her lips as she continued to hover her hands over his wounds. Her eyes remained closed, her light lashes resting on her sun-kissed cheeks. He’d never seen a woman as beautiful as this. He had to learn her true origins and return her to her family.

Buy Link:

Wild Rose Press

Amazon

Barnes and Nobles

DELORES

Please welcome our guest Delores Goodrick Beggs.

Girlhood With a Horse Named Snowball

by

Delores Goodrick Beggs
I was one of the first girls in our rolling Kansas farm area to wear blue jeans, and I took up wearing them all the time. My city woman mother despaired of me to the extent she purchased for me a pair of green jodhpurs, and informed me jodhpurs were considered acceptable wear for girls who rode horses. Sad to say I never liked jodhpurs and only wore them a few times. I can't count the number of pairs of blue jeans I wore out growing up.

Bicycles were big in those girlhood times and my siblings and I enjoyed the steep hills of the rural Wyandotte County our acreage was on. I never did get the hang of riding a bicycle down our country hills, but our horses were a different matter.  We often cantered up and down over the hilly road to our friends' houses two steep hills away.

ANOTHER WHITE HORSE DELORES OWNED
NAMED MOONRISE

Snowball was the horse I rode growing up, a snow white mare except for a brown-eared "cap" on the top of her head. I won my first horse show blue ribbon riding Snowball western.

Whatever I asked of her she would do, even pace smooth as a cushioned chair, although she was strictly a Western riding horse.

Snowball had a tendency to get herself into situations. One day I came home from school to find she'd fallen down our steep hillside and lay flat on the ground with her head in the edge of the culvert creek that ran through our acres. I ran down and sat in the creek, cradling her head out of the water a while before she could be coaxed back onto her feet and walked up the path to our barn, cleaned her up and stayed with her until my father could take over when he got home from his day job.

Another time Snowball somehow got through three barbed wire strands of fence and onto the neighbor's land - we figured it was a case of the grass looking greener over there. She fell through a narrow crevasse in their hillside down to the ground level, and was stuck. The local volunteer fire department spent a long time digging to widen the tight confines and tried without success to pull her out, three men manning the rope. When they gave up, Dad (we'd called him home from work) went up and stroked her head, spoke to her. Then he backed away, pulled the rope around his wrists and shoulders, hollered to her and then leaned into the rope and pulled her out of the crevasse by himself while the rescue team and I watched. My father grew up a farm boy, plowing gardens with a hand plow, and was a very strong man

I rode Snowball growing up, and in spite of her tendency to escapades, she lived to be a very old and pampered horse. She and the other horses we had fueled my mind for my books, of which the first, Breaking Point, Book One of my Place in the Heart series, came out May 11, 2012 from Desert Breeze Publishing, www.DesertBreezePublishing.com.

 Besides riding Snowball in parades and horse shows in my teen years I had a job driving a buggy pulled by a matched team of four black ponies in parades for a local eatery. The buggy carried a sign promoting the business. I was amazed to learn later the sum paid for driving in the parades was the amount a woman could rent a monthly apartment for back then; it wouldn't begin to go so far nowadays, but it sure helped our family out at the time.

DELORES WITH STAR, ONE OF THE
PONY RING PONIES,
AND HER FOAL, SHIEK

Also during my teen years we kids, with help also from a neighbor boy, ran the first Pony Ring in the Kansas City, Kansas area on weekends and holidays except in bad weather. Those were busy times. With no local competition our Pony Ring Ranch was a big family attraction. My father set us kids a great example when he made the effort to include every child that wanted to ride a pony. He walked the ring himself many times, holding in place a disabled child who beamed with a bright smile at his or her new accomplishment. Some of those special children returned regularly to ride and their families became friends of ours.

Of an early Sunday morning when my father was home from work, and if the Kansas weather was decent, then we would saddle up and ride, Dad on Snowball and me on Satin, a large donkey we had, and my brother and younger sister on other mounts.  We would sedately climb to the high pasture hill following Dad on a prancing Snowball. 

There's something tall about being atop your mount and your world, something free about charging your steed through the wind; we kids would race back down the hill, and wait. When Dad caught up with us on Snowball he would caution us not to tell our mother those consarned horses got away from us. Those delightful family Sunday rides were the glory days of my girlhood.
~*~*~

Blurb:
Mauranie Wells and her sister Tennyson are at odds. Mauranie is content with their Wells Double Bar ranch home and working on the progress of her fledgling horse business. Tennyson wants the town life social scene and pretty new gowns, not a dusty horse ranch. She spends as much time as possible in nearby Mescal Flats, and when she is home at the ranch, cowboys come to call on her.
Cowboy banker Stemson Arroyo Smith needs help. He rides into the Bar W on a day when the sisters are not speaking. He unknowingly escalates the tension by ignoring Tennyson to pull his horse up beside the corral where Mauranie is exercising a black colt.

~*~*~

EXCERPT

   "Good colt. I'm Stemson Arroyo Smith, by the way."
   Each crisp word shot a thrill of pleasure through her. Her eyes widened, and she smiled. He didn't drawl the way Tennyson's cowboy friends did. Cultured, she thought, and with a deep voice she could hear well.
   "He needs work, a lot of work."
    "A little at a time will do it. He's young yet."
   "The house is over there." She nodded in Tennyson’s direction, drinking in the wonderful experience of not having to tilt her head in order to hear him.
   Stemson made no move to leave.
   Mauranie ground her teeth and clenched her fists, staring at him. She glanced past him to where Tennyson stood pressed against the veranda rail, her body rigid again, a grimace on her face.
   "My sister sometimes keeps her suitors cooling their heels. I warn you, yours will be a long wait if you remain here. Tennyson’s hand-made boots have never seen the inside of a corral." Mauranie turned her back to   Stemson and clicked the colt into motion.
   "My business is with Mauranie Wells." His deep voice caused her to pause and turn back to better catch his words. "I daresay it’s you? Scott Ringer at the feed store in Mescal Flats told me your sister is a blonde. So you see, I am, after all, where I should be." 
   Warmth started in the core of her being and spread to engulf her. At the same time, uncertainty struck her. Had she heard him right? This nice man had come to see her? She well knew how her poor hearing sometimes tripped her up. She tensed. She had to check if she'd heard him right. She drew Showman to a stop and led him to the pole fence where the stranger stood.
   "Me? What can I do to help you?" She scanned the crinkled corners of his silvered eyes, letting her gaze drop down smooth cheeks darkening with new afternoon shadow. Her tight muscles relaxed. She lifted her gaze and stared into the smile of those silvery-blue eyes.
**************
Place in the Heart: Book One, Breaking Point, was released May 11, 2012
Place in the Heart: Book Two, Substitute Lover, will release in December, 2012
BUY LINKS:
http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-290/From-The-Heart-Book/Detail.bok

http://www.amazon.com/Place-The-Heart-Book-ebook/dp/B008251M7U/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1339269798&sr=1-1&keywords=Delores+Goodrick+Beggs

Thank you, Delores, for being such an excellent guest! I know readers will want to read this book--I know I do.

Celia Yeary

You can find Delores here:

http://www.goodrickbeggs.wordpress.com

http://deloressworld.blogspot.com/

Show Mo

How Real Do You Like Your Historicals?

By Kathy Otten

Main St. Goldfield, NE 1903

Much like writing dialogue,  grounding the reader in another time and place requires balance. I write historical westerns and while I don’t want to create a perfect ‘Gunsmoke’ kind of town for my stories, the actual reality of an old west town can sometimes be a bit too real for the fantasy I hold in my mind.

My own home town is a farm town and more than half Amish. While many people would think it quaint, when farmers start spreading manure on the fields, it stinks. Then with all the buggies in and out of town, it doesn’t take long for piles of horse manure to accumulate in front of the various hitching rails. In the summer, tiny black flies swarm over them.

Cimarron St. 1931

Imagine an old west town, where everyone rode horses and wagons were pulled by oxen. The streets must have been veritable cesspools of smelly muck. Aside from all the flies, mosquitoes were also attracted to the animals, and out west they often carried malaria, a disease of fever and chills commonly called the ague.

Goblin Gulch

After a rain the streets became a mass of yellow-brown ooze that could almost suck the boots off a man’s feet, and rats lived under the planks of the wooden sidewalks.

Slops and ashes were thrown into barrels outside and garbage piled up in alleys and behind buildings. When broken wagons, wheels and other implements cluttered the yards of farms and ranches, they were burned or carted off to a ‘dump,’ somewhere on the owner’s land.

The farm fresh milk sold in town, carried bacteria and tuberculosis.  Without proper refrigeration, butter turned rancid. Except for seasonal greens like dandelions and pig weed, fruits and vegetables were rare in the westerner’s diet and children suffered from vitamin deficiency, scurvy and scrofulous sores.  Bacon sizzling in a pan over an open fire most likely carried trichinosis as six percent of the pigs at that time had the disease.

Plagues of grasshoppers and Rocky Mountain locusts moved over the plains in black, humming clouds that were at times 150 miles wide, by 100 miles deep. They stopped trains, ate the bark off trees and could obliterate an entire harvest in a day. Electrical storms caused lightning balls to jump from the horns of cattle and tornadoes could destroy acres of crops.

Replica of miner's house Silver City

During winter, the windows were kept closed to keep from freezing, and instead people choked on the fumes from p oorly insulated and vented stoves. Long periods of time shut indoors, without contact from any neighbors intensified the loneliness so much that some people went insane.

I do wonder how anyone managed to survive. And as a reader, would you rather visit that time in history with rose-colored glasses or would rather we authors present our stories with the unvarnished reality of the time?

www.kathyotten.com 

Paradise Pines Series: Night Angel

By Paisley Kirkpatrick

August 21, 2012, is a date I will hold in my memory as the day my life-long dream came true. It's the day my first book is published. After 22 years of never giving up on being published, Night Angel, the first of five stories in the Paradise Pines Series, will be released by Desert Breeze Publishing.

In this story set in the 1849 Gold Rush Era, a poker-playing saloon singer tangles with the mysterious Night Angel. She steals his heart the night he robs her the first time.

Sassy Amalie Renard, a poker-playing saloon singer, shakes up Paradise Pines, a former gold-rush mountain community by turning the saloon’s bar into her stage. Her amazing voice stirs the passions of the hotel owner, a man who anonymously travels tunnels at night providing help to the downtrodden as the mysterious Night Angel. Declan Grainger agrees to subsidize the building of a music hall to fulfill Amalie's dream, but a bounty for her arrest could spoil his plans. Distrust and jealousy stir flames of malice and revenge threatening to destroy their town. Drawing from past experiences, Declan and Amalie turn to each other to find a way to save the community.

EXCERPT:

Different colored bottles of whiskey and beer reflected in the mirrors along the wall behind the long wooden bar. Perfect. That's where she'd start her evening.

She slipped off her cape and handed it to Declan. His appreciative gasp brought a smile to her lips. Having men ogle her appearance was hardly new. She'd learned early to use her looks to her advantage. The way Declan's eyes heated with appreciation when he cast a glance at the deep cut of her décolletage reminded her how good it felt to be a woman.

"Now you'll see who I really am."

Declan grabbed her arm. "Don't let them forget you're a lady, Amalie."

She cast him a wicked smile. "The name's Lily Fox. Believe me, honey, Lily's no lady."

She approached a couple of gamblers and leaned over slightly to give them full effect of her daring dress. "Would you mind helping me, gents? I have need of your table for a moment."

The men jumped to their feet in unison, their cards forgotten. Amalie took the nearest man's outstretched palm, stepped onto a chair, over their cards, and up onto the long wooden plank bar.

"Good evening, boys." She strutted along the length of wood, avoiding whiskey glasses and kicking away eager hands. The saloon girl stopped caterwauling. The room went still. She had everyone's attention, just the way Lily liked it.

"Get down, young woman. This ain't no place for you to prance about," the barkeep snarled in outrage.

Ignoring the scowling face with the handlebar mustache, she kicked up her heels. Adding a dance step, she pranced back and forth the length of the makeshift stage. Lily reveled in the whistles and disregarded the uncouth remarks. She was in her element. "My name is Lily Fox, and I'm here to entertain you tonight."

With the flick of her hand, she caught the attention of the stunned piano player. "Play something quick and lively, will you, honey?" She glanced around the room of excited faces and turned on her brightest smile.

My husband and I are so lucky to live in this area where all the excitement happened during the gold rush. The town of Placerville, known as Old Hangtown in 1849, still has some of the same atmosphere of those days. Victorian houses, tunnels under the town, a gold mine, a bar displaying a 'man' hanging by the neck above its front door, amongst some of the old relics. Living in the area I love to write about gives me a chance to experience some of the wild west atmosphere.