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Tuesday, March 13, 2018

Creativity (An 8-Part Series): Part III - Shape-Shifting


By Kristy McCaffrey

Don't miss
Part I  - Imagination

While shape-shifting is often associated with evil and deception, it can be thought of most easily as a way to incorporate the qualities and sensory perceptions of a particular animal. Shape-shifting allows the navigation through different levels of consciousness, both awake and dreaming, and along the astral plane.

In the iconic King Arthur story "The Sword in the Stone" by T. H. White, the wizard Merlin transforms young Arthur into many different animals to aid the boy in learning how to be king. When Arthur finally pulls the sword from the stone, the animal kingdom relays many mystical messages, giving him strength and courage to grow into the man he needs to be.

In shamanic realms, one must master energy to become a shape-shifter, and thereby learn to shift situations.





Shape-shifting goes hand-in-hand with totem animals. In many cultures, association with an animal is a means of navigating the world—Coyote energy is mischievous, Raven energy is cunning and otherworldly, Rabbit energy is quick and alert. If one has an affinity for a certain creature, why not imagine what it would be like to be that animal? What might this teach you?



Wilderness is not a luxury, but a necessity of the human spirit.
~ Author Edward Abbey

Each animal has its own gifts, which are accessible to us. Bear teaches us to set clear boundaries and balance activities with periods of rest. Butterfly embodies transformation from one state to the next. Whale calls to deep creativity and the ability to sing your intention into the landscape.


Shifting focus has long been an avenue to unlock creativity. While running along the terrain as a bobcat, what wondrous things will you see?

Lots of people talk to animals. Not very many listen, though. That's the problem. ~ Benjamin Hoff



Works Cited
Billington, Penny. The Path of Druidry: Walking the Ancient Green Way. Llwellyn Publications, 2011.

Carson, David. Find Your Spirit Animals. Watkins Publishing, 2011.

Farmer Ph.D, Steven D. Animal Spirit Guides. Hay House, Inc., 2006.

Myss, Carolyn. Sacred Contracts: Awakening Your Divine Potential. Harmony Books, 2001.


Don’t miss Part IV in the Creativity series: Forbearance

Until next time…

 Connect with Kristy



Monday, March 12, 2018

March--in like a Lion, out like a Lamb



Blog-a-Book-Scene is a monthly themed blogging endeavor from a group of authors who love to share excerpts from their stories. Find us on Twitter with the hashtag #blogabookscene and #PrairieRosePub.

Ah, March…  “Comes in like a Lion, goes out like a Lamb”

Sitting here, thinking about a March blog and listening to the early March wind howl outside, that saying came to mind. I grew up with it—it was repeated every time a thunderstorm fired up in early March. But I have no idea where it comes from. And after researching it—I’m still not sure.

According to the Paris Review blog, one of the earliest citations is from Thomas Fuller in a 1732 compendium, Gnomologia: Adagies and Proverbs; Wise Sentences and Witty Sayings, Ancient and Modern, Foreign and British. Fuller's wording is as I listed at the top of this blog.

Another possible reference seems to be the stars. March begins under Leo, the lion, and goes out under Aries, the ram—although a lamb and a ram aren’t quite the same thing.

Regardless, if you grew up and/or live in tornado alley like me, when the wind blows strong and the storms pop up, the adage will come up more than once this month.



In a nod to spring—may it please arrive soon!—here’s an excerpt from one of my short stories.





From NO LESS THAN FOREVER, A River’s Bend Duo:



Love always finds a way…

Doctor Franz Bittner is satisfied with his life as it is. He has a good practice in a place where he is respected, in spite of his German birth. He has good friends and enough income to provide him with a few comforts. A wife would only complicate things. Then a tiny blond stranger is pulled from the river and everything changes. With one smile she captures his attention—and steals his heart.

Rebekah Snow Redmann barely survived her abusive husband’s attack. Though she was given to him to pay her father’s debts, she’d rather die than go back. Then she ends up in the care of the handsome local doctor and he stitches up more than her wounds—he mends her soul. With him, she discovers everything that she believes she can never have...a love that will last forever.



“This is the first time our little town has attempted such a thing. The Spring Dance was envisioned by Martha and her friend, Mary Hawken, and they’ve worked very hard on it. Would you like to attend this evening?”

Rebekah stared up at Franz from her spot on the blue damask settee. “I don’t think I’m strong enough to dance.”

“You don’t have to do anything more than sit and watch. I should attend, in support of my sister, but I will stay here with you, if that is what you wish.”

“No, you mustn’t disappoint Martha. She’s been so kind to me. You both have.”

When Franz’s gaze heated, she looked away. She may not know much, but she recognized his desire. She felt the same for him and it made her physically ill to know nothing could come of it.

“Little one, we don’t have to go. I will simply ask someone to come and stay with us while Martha is gone.”

“A chaperone?” Rebekah laughed. “That’s hardly necessary, given the circumstances.” When he remained silent, she tried to explain. “If I’m married, you’re safe. And the people here know you would never take advantage of me.”

“But do you know that?” He crossed the room to sit beside her. “Do you believe you are safe alone here with me?”

“Yes.” Though that wasn’t entirely true. She trusted him—but not herself.

“That is good.” Franz patted her hand and rose. “Then we will attend the dance for Martha. We will stay only a little while, and when you are ready, we will come home.”

She nodded her agreement and he left, mumbling something about pressing a suit. He’d barely disappeared from sight when the front door opened and Martha breezed in, bringing a waft of cool, damp spring air into the room.

Fear that her presence in Martha’s parlor would upset the woman ripped through her. “Franz said it was all right if I sat in here for a while. The sun felt so good and I sat right where he showed me. I didn’t touch anything else, I swear.” Her words trailed off when Martha only stared at her in silence before reminding her that she was welcome in this beautiful home. Martha went so far as to give her permission to rearrange the room to suit herself. “I don’t think I’ll find it necessary to move everything.”

“That is good to hear. Are you up to eating a bite of supper? Then I have to get dressed for the Spring Dance.”

“I’ve invited Rebekah to go with us.” Franz leaned against the doorframe, smiling gently at his patient.

Rebekah couldn’t believe she was actually blushing as Franz smiled at her. When Martha enthusiastically supported her brother, she knew she was attending the dance. “I have nothing to wear.”

Martha suggested Mary Hawken might have a dress that would fit and Franz immediately offered to go and ask, shocking both women. But the thought of wearing something that hadn’t been provided by her husband held incredible allure.

Martha’s voice brought her attention back. “We’ll eat and dress before Matthew arrives.”

“Sheriff Tate?” Rebekah couldn’t stop the wave of terror that swept her. She avoided lawmen. The scars on her back were from the one time she’d tried to involve the law to gain her freedom.

Martha’s reassurance helped, though her fear was too deep-seated to be removed by a few words. But, she would never disappoint Martha or Franz. If going to the dance meant being in the company of Sheriff Tate, she would manage somehow.

Sunday, March 11, 2018

Book Review: Addie and the Gunslinger



Blurb:
Ex-gunslinger Jude Morgan lands in jail in a far-flung West Texas town. On the fourth day, the sheriff ushers in a beautiful woman dressed in men’s pants and toting her own six-shooter. Adriana Jones claims he is her worthless husband who married her, but never came home.

The young woman makes a bargain with Jude in front of the sheriff. Jude is to come home where he belongs, and she will have him released. Once they’re alone, she explains his job is to pose as her husband to thwart the marriage advances of her neighbor, wealthy rancher Horace Caruthers. The older man wants her ranch to join with his; the Pecos River runs through her property.

To seal the bargain, Jude wants a kiss. During the next few weeks, however, Jude and Addie learn that the kiss meant more than they intended. Then, when Addie's life is in danger, will Jude rescue his Addie? Or will Addie save herself and her gunslinger?

My Review:
Ooooohhh!!! Jude (swoon -- love that name!!) and Addie deliver an adorable little tale of a man looking for something different out of life and a woman who needs a man to help save her home. Love how they meet and watching the initial sparks flare and grow into something more.

There were a couple of surprising twists to go with the drama, making this quick sweet story lighthearted with just enough excitement to keep your attention.

Purchase link:

Thursday, March 8, 2018

Lookin' for a mail order bride?

One of my favorite historical western romance themes is mail order brides. The vulnerability, uncertainty, determination, and maybe even desperation from the bride and/or groom to embark on such a journey speaks to something deep in me. Just trying to put myself in their shoes and live that adventure with them can be quite the emotional experience. Lots of trust and blind faith, even despite whatever was posted in advertisements or shared via letters.


When I heard about the Remington sisters anthology -- I jumped on reading it! I mean, four inter-connected stories about sisters saving themselves from a ruthless step-father by becoming mail order brides and choosing to have faith in the unknown rather than what their step-father has planned for them? Sign me up!

Here's a little taste of what you'll experience with each sister.

Lizzy: By Livia J. Washburn

“I don’t want the money,” Devery said. His face was flushed a dark red. “I want the wife I bought and paid for!” With that, he reached forward swiftly and closed his right hand around Lizzy’s left wrist. He jerked her toward him and turned to drag her away from the office door. “You can send for your things,” he said over his shoulder. “We’re goin’ home—”

Lizzy opened her mouth to scream for help as fear flooded through her. Before she could make a sound, though, one of the men who’d been drinking at the bar stepped into Devery’s path and said, “I don’t think the lady wants to go with you, mister.”

{some fun stuff happens, and then.....}

He asked, “Are you...all right, miss?”

“Yes, I think so,” Lizzy said. “I appreciate what you did for me, sir. You don’t know how much.”

“It was my pleasure...Miss Remington,” Flint McKinnon said. “I couldn’t let that man drag you off when you’re already promised to someone else.”

Belle: By Jacquie Rogers

“Excuse me, sirs, could you tell me where Mr. Dob Osbourne is?”

The older man propped the younger man against his side. “As a matter of fact, I can. And who might you be?”

“I’m Miss Belle Roberts from Philadelphia, and I have business with him. A contract.”

The younger man raised his gaze to the sky and blinked. “Dob, what the hell have you done?” To Belle, he said. “Miss, I’m sorry but he passed two days ago.”

Her insides turned cold. “Passed? As in…died?”

The older man nodded and the younger one said, “He did. Die. Damn his...”

“But... I have a contract!”

“If you have a contract, Cord, here, will honor it. Won’t you, Cord?”

“Damn right,” the younger man slurred, then slumped and the older fellow grabbed him and pulled him upright. “Contract.”

“Then you’ll marry me?”On the one hand, she needed to get married, and get married now. On the other, she wasn’t all that enamored with committing herself to a drunk.

Sabrina: By Cheryl Pierson

“What do you see when you look at me, Sabrina?”

His question caught her off guard, and she glanced up at him from her plate. But his gaze snared hers, and wouldn’t let her go. “A…a man, of course.” She shook herself, turning her attention back to her food. “Is this a question I should answer in a particular way? A test, perhaps?”

Cam’s lips twisted up faintly.

“A trustworthy man,” Sabrina went on. “Someone who is kind, but…someone who could be quite—deadly, I think. Should the need arise.”

The accuracy of that observation surprised him. “What makes you say that?”

“You wear your gun tied down, and you wear it low. In the dime novels,” she went on, “many times the hero can be as lethal as the villain.”

At that, he did smile. “Which am I, ’Brina? Hero, or villain?”

She cocked her head to one side. “Hmm. Tall. Dark. Handsome. I’d say you’re the…hero.”

He laughed. “You forgot ‘deadly’.”

She sobered. “Are you? Deadly?”

Lola: By Celia Yeary

Jack’s deep, rich voice drew her attention. “If you’re standing while shooting, spread your legs slightly for leverage and to keep balanced. Now, the rifle isn’t loaded so you can learn how to hold it, look down the sight, and pull the trigger. You’ll feel a kick to your shoulder when we fire it. Ready?”

The closeness of him, the clean scent of him, and the feel of his breath against her neck as he stood so near made shivers run up her spine. Her heart pounded… She feared she might swoon.

“Y-Yes, I suppose.” Then, more decisively, she said, “Yes. I’m ready.”

He took the rifle, worked the lever to cock it, and said, “Let’s do this first. I’ll stand behind you and help you position and hold the rifle.”

She nodded. “Whatever you say.”

When his body was flush with hers, he reached around and held the rifle out straight.

“Now, you put your finger on the trigger and I’ll help support your arm and the rifle.” In essence, he was mimicking her body positions and movements.

“Spread your legs just a little, to give you a good balance.” He whispered in her ear, his warm breath causing her own to almost cease. “Steady now, calm down. Ready, aim, fire.” 

~~~~~~~~~~
Want more?  You can get your copy on sale through Saturday March 10th for only 99 cents at Amazon.

Keep visiting so you don't miss my feature reviews on each of the Remington sisters coming soon!

Wednesday, March 7, 2018

Prologues Kill by Sarah J. McNeal

Prologues Kill Your Story


Prologues used to be popular among writers. It was a swift, clean way to catch the reader up on a back-story—a big flashback, if you will. Well, that was all fine and good back in the day or forgiven if I newbie author committed the sin; and I confess, I have sinned in this regard.

I’ve been working on a book that was my first published novel and has been edited by three publishers. Now it has been contracted with Fire Star Press. Honestly, I have not looked at this story for a number of years so it was quite a shock to discover how many primary rules of writing I broke. I would say I am editing this book, but the truth is I am rewriting it.

The very first mistake I made glared at me at the onset of the story...a big scary prologue. I hesitate to think what readers thought of this prologue. They may have quit reading right then and there. Even worse is the fact that this book is the first in a trilogy. I can’t imagine the reader wanting to read the next two books after the fiasco on the first page of the first book.

We have had it pounded into our brains to start a story in the middle of the action or intrigue, and yet, there it was on my first page—a gigantic, good for nothing, flashback. Ugh! I hung my head in shame for a moment before I deleted the entire prologue. I don’t miss it. The story doesn’t miss it. It served no purpose except to kill a reader’s interest in moving any further into the story.
I read an article that said we shouldn’t even write the word “prologue” at the beginning of a book; it would be better to just write “Chapter 1” and then write in italics “whatever years later” so and so happened that REALLY started the story. The author of the article made the statement that readers are turned off by the word “prologue.” I guess readers just think. Here we go into a boring flashback. Whooptydoo. Maybe that’s what drives some readers to read the ending first just so they can get a sense of what the heck is going on and whether everything is going to turn out okay.

I would go into the negative aspects of epilogues here—another sin I have committed, but I won’t. Sometimes epilogues tie things together at the end without the reader having to speculate if things worked out after all. Honestly, if not for the epilogue in the book “Cold Mountain” by Charles Frazier I would not have learned that any happiness evolved from all the tragedies that took place in the story. Therefore, I will leave epilogues alone.

But I will say that Prologues often kill a reader’s interest before they get to the meat of the story. I must atone for my sin in writing a prologue and make a promise to myself never to do it again.



What some other authors to have to say about prologues:



“Bad Ways To Start A Novel” by Cytolene
No one except the author is really interested in your character’s backstory. The reader wants to see what is happening right now. Whatever backstory is necessary can be woven into the main story.
Prologue. The fuzzy bit at the beginning that doesn’t make sense until you’ve read the whole novel. It’s backstory in disguise. Prologues that start a thousand years in the past will cause the author to burn in hell.


K. M. Weiland

Helping Writers Become Authors by K.M. Weiland
Prologues offer many dangers, a few of which include:
·         Forcing readers to begin the story twice.
·         Grabbing readers with a “fake” hook (which also causes the writer the extra work of then having to come up with two brilliant hooks—one for the prologue and one for the real first chapter).
·         Creating prime real estate for info dumping.
·         Wasting readers’ time with intro material instead of allowing them to get into the real story right away.
·         Forcing readers to accept the author’s hand-holding.
·         Killing subtext.
All of these are all integrally related, but that last is the one I want to zero in on today.

Laura L. Martin
Prologue. (One of the 10 Worst Story Openings by Laura L.Martin)

Maybe I’m the only one, but I always used to just skip prologues and then read them after I was finished with the book. Prologues are just another cheap way of stuffing a bunch of back-story in. However, I know a lot of successful famous books have used prologues, so they’re not always unacceptable, but if you can, work in the information somewhere else—maybe even if you need to have a flashback later on. Readers are put off by prologues that they don’t understand and have visibly little to do with the actual first chapter.






Sarah J. McNeal is a multi-published author who writes diverse stories filled with heart. She is a retired ER and Critical Care nurse who lives in North Carolina with her four-legged children, Lily, the Golden Retriever and Liberty, the cat. Besides her devotion to writing, she also has a great love of music and plays several instruments including violin, bagpipes, guitar and harmonica. Her books and short stories may be found at Prairie Rose Publications and its imprints Painted Pony Books, and Fire Star Press and Sundown Press. She welcomes you to her website and social media:




Sunday, March 4, 2018

THE COLORADO COWBOY


The Colorado Cowboy could easily have been the Colorado Sheepherder. Sheep were the first 'commercial' animal in Colorado.

Santa Fe Trail near Ft. Union, New Mexico
In the book "Historic Ranching Complexes on the Pinon Canyon Maneuver Site" the authors state that ranching, specifically sheep ranching was brought to the southwest with the settlers from Mexico in the 1500s. It was sheep that formed the basis of ranching as the early settlers knew it. Other livestock were for personal use. It was the Churro Sheep that became the breed of choice due to its hardiness, meat and wool. https://goo.gl/images/bzu9LZ

These ranchers would move the sheep across the open range seasonally, usually penning the livestock at night for protection. In winter they would settle them near the rivers and/or close to the settlements. Where the high country range was used on a more permanent basis, rock walls and shelters were built to create wind rain blocks.

Even as late as 1879, sheep and its wool, which is a twice a year crop, were still popular. In Colorado Springs, one of the principal money earners was wool growing. The city directory shows a list of twenty-five stock growers vs thirty-five wool growers. What is most interesting about this list is the number of people who were doing both.

So where does the Cowboy fit into this picture? Columbus and other early explorers may have introduced cattle to the new world, but Colorado really didn’t see them until people started their journey on the Santa Fe Trail, which passed through the southeast section of Colorado. The Bent brothers, of Bent’s Fort fame, would trade one oxen for two worn out ones. Thus they built a herd of ‘beeves’. In the 1840s the Army order 500 ‘beeves’ from the Bents to supply Kearney and his Army of the West on their trip from Fort Leavenworth, Kansas to Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Comanche National Grasslands near Bent's Fort, Colorado
In the central Colorado plains, there is a mention of one man who had cattle as early as the 1830s, but not much more is known about he and his herd.

It was during the cattle drives from Texas through Colorado that the cowboy took his place in this state’s history.  The 1866 Goodnight/Loving Trail through Pueblo, then Denver, Colorado, was one of the early ones to enter the state. In 1867 Goodnight established a ranch near Pueblo, Colorado. The barn his ‘cowboys’ built in 1869-70 in the Pueblo region, still stands today.  Goodnight Barn  Goodnight-Loving Trail

A second trail, called the Potter/Blocker (Bacon) trail came through the eastern part of Colorado on their trip to Montana sometime around 1883. Not as well known and harsher than most, it traversed a drier and more unforgiving area for such drives. Potter-Blocker(Bacon) Trail

Today, Colorado still has cowboys and cattle grazing on the land. This legacy is traced back to the early settlers who braved this new country and left their mark. I will leave you with this quote from the book Century in the Saddle: The 100 Year Story of the Colorado Cattlemen’s Association, 1867-1967:

“The cattlemen who built the Colorado range industry in the later 1860’s and 1870’s were not all heroes, not were they all villains. However, there were both heroes and villains among them.     Essentially they were pioneers, with the foresight to see a future in the cattle business...”

Doris Gardner-McCraw -
Author, Speaker, Historian-specializing in
Colorado and Women's History
Member of National League of American Pen Women,
Women Writing the West,
Pikes Peak Posse of the Westerners

Angela Raines - author: Where Love & History Meet
For a list of Angela Raines Books: Here 
Photo and Poem: Click Here 
Angela Raines FaceBook: Click Here



Thursday, March 1, 2018

New Release - Gambling on Forever by Becky Lower - @prairierosepubs #WesternRomance


When Elise Lafontaine spies her father’s missing saddlebag with its all-important papers slung over the shoulder of a man boarding a riverboat, she follows him, hoping to retrieve the contents. Her plans come to an abrupt halt when she is declined entry to the boat, since she is an unaccompanied female.

From his perch on the top deck, handsome riverboat gambler James Garnett witnesses her denied entry. When she shoots him a look of desperation, how can he resist those deep blue eyes and beautiful face? Of course, he comes to her rescue, pretending she is his fiancée—and she is allowed aboard.

Begrudgingly, Elise accepts James’s offer of help to win back the saddlebag and the papers by having him play poker on her behalf, certain the thieving Confederate brothers who stole the bag will lose everything to James. But can Elise be happy with only the saddlebag and its contents? Or has she already lost her heart to the dangerous gambler?

After a sultry kiss, Elise steals his money and the papers and jumps overboard. Then the games truly begin. Now, Elise stands at the biggest crossroads of her life—will she go her own way, fiercely independent and alone? Or will she wager everything on the man who holds her heart--GAMBLING ON FOREVER?


EXCERPT


     After shouting every curse word she could come up with, in no less than three languages, Elise quieted and glanced around the small cabin. She needed to corral her energy—which had been riding high ever since this morning when she first spied the missing saddlebag.
     Taking some deep, calming breaths, she assessed her situation. She didn’t for a minute buy Mr. Garnett’s pronouncement that he had no ulterior motive. Everyone had an angle of some kind. Especially men. Especially men with a smooth exterior like Mr. Garnett. Like Bailey Snodgrass. Ever since he’d set foot in St. Louis and disrupted the lives of Elise’s best friend and her family, she’d been on guard against the many other slick men who had surfaced after the war. Carpetbaggers like Bailey, riverboat gamblers, sweet-talking handsome men…they were all the same in Elise’s mind.
     Susannah was hopefully on her way back to the ranch by now to round up the search party. Elise’s four brothers, each one bigger and fiercer than the next, would be coming for her shortly. Of that, she had no doubt. Their Indian blood and a lifetime in the wilderness rounding up wild horses made them expert trackers, but tracking one of the many riverboats clogging the Mississippi might cause some problems for them, even with their superior skills.
     But they would find her and would do serious damage to the pair who had the stolen merchandise. And Mr. Garnett? So far, she had nothing to report to her brothers about him. But the journey had only begun. And he was a man. She had no doubt he’d do something to trip himself up soon.
     The big steam engine had roared to life a few minutes ago while she spilled every obscenity in her repertoire, and the large paddle wheels started slapping against the waves as they rotated.
     If she were the weepy sort, she’d be shedding buckets by now over her plight. Here she was, alone on a strange, large ship, without even a change of undergarments. But crying never helped any predicament, so she’d calm herself and figure out what to do.