Tanya Writes About Sunflowers

Just finished Lady X's Cowboy, by Zoe Archer. Grade B+



Please stop by Petticoats and Pistols today for a bit of history on the sunflower. The sunflower has a history?

Yes indeedy. See you there. If nothing else, the pictures rock.

And who doesn't feel better after getting smiled at by a sunflower?

Tanya Writes About Yellow Ribbons

Well, they're yellow. But these ribbons aren't for our daughter's wedding. We just got back from a fantastic trip to Sacramento where I picked up some information about the symbol of the yellow ribbon. And with today being the anniversary of that horrible day the world stopped turning eight years ago, I'm featuring this post here as well as at the Western authors blog, Cactus Rose at The Wild Rose Press.

I never liked the song much, Tie a Yellow Ribbon 'Round the Old Oak Tree, but that doesn't mean I can't sing it at will all these years later! And I remember wearing a yellow ribbon during the Iran Hostage Crises of 1981-82. These days, I see frequent reminders to pray for our troops on yellow-ribbon car magnets.

But not until last week, visiting Old Sacramento, did I learn the origins of the yellow ribbon. For almost 150 years, displaying a yellow ribbon is a sign of loyalty to family, friends and loved ones far away from home in difficult situations such as war or captivity.

According to legend, the custom of a yellow ribbon showing support for a loved one far away began during the Civil War. At this time, the United States Cavalry wore yellow piping on their uniforms. Women who were married or promised to a Cavalryman wore yellow ribbons while waiting for their soldiers' return. Supposedly the practice kept prospective suitors at bay as well as warned of reprisal by the soldier if his lover was harmed.

Another version of the custom traces its origins to the horrific Andersonville Prison. Officially known as Camp Sumpter, Andersonville was one of the largest, most notorious Confederate prison camps. During its 14 months of operation, more than 45,000 Union soldiers were confined, 13,000 losing their lives from disease, malnutrition, overcrowding, and exposure.

Supposedly a member of the Ninth Ohio Cavalry who had been a Confederate prisoner there for several years, wrote to his wife with the suggestion that, rather than wear her ribbon, she tie it to a signpost near the train station so he could see it upon his return. The tale soon became part of Civil War lore.

The following song spread throughout the North, its words set to an old British drinking song:

Around her neck she wore a yellow ribbon
She wore it in the Springtime and in the month of May.
And if you ask her why the hells he wore it,
She wore it for her soldier who is far, far away.

(Chorus)
Far away, far away.
She wore it for her soldier who is far, far away.

During the 1991 Gulf War and following 9/11, the yellow ribbon symbol has gained widespread popularity as it sends our service members the message that they are never far from our hearts.

Sincere thanks to the Old Sacramento School House Museum for this information.

Tanya Writes About the Livestrong Wedding, part 2

Current read: Lady X's Cowboy, Zoe Archer










Yes, yellow roses, gerberas, callas. Lemons. Livestrong wristbands for favors. A Tour d' France jersey-themed groomscake. Each table named for a Tour term. Lemondrop martinis.

Everything picture-perfect, to die-for. Willingly. Sigh. Even down to the little china plate her dad and I ate our cake from, thirty five years ago! (Her brother and his bride ate off it five years ago.)



Sigh again. And live strong!

Tanya Writes About the Livestrong Wedding, part 1

Current read: Lady X's Cowboy, Zoe Archer

I'm not over the wedding yet. My hero, my T.C. survivor, the love of my life and my husband of 35 years, was on board every second of our daugher's wedding. He attended every bridal gown try-on, every fitting.

Yet...on that glorious day...(he confided all this later.) He stood there, waiting for her to take his arm. Then he saw her as he'd never seen her before. His breath caught and his heart stopped.

She had picked the date, the 8th, in honor of him. For 16 months before, on an 8th, his remission had been announced. And he got his dream. During those killer days of chemo, he'd confided something else. Let me live to give my babygirl away at her wedding.

He got his wish, his prayer. His dream come true.

Tanya Writes About...wedding shoes

Current Read: Lady X's Cowboy, Zoe Archer
Just finished: Cranberry Hearts, Barbour Anthology, A+


Well, ya hear all through your childhood about ruby slippers and glass slippers, then ya grow up and it's all about Choos and stillettos. Toss is the occasional pricey flip-flop or Nike cross-trainer should need arise.

I myself am partial to my Ahnus, the best feel on my reconstructed foot but I managed a darling pair of black satin strappies for the wedding. And they weren't even new. I got them for our New York trip last summer and wore them on our dinner cruise around Manhattan. Way comfortable and broken in...although I changed into some Vera Wang ballet flats for the reception.

But how about my babygirl and her yellow shoes? Long a fan of "Chuck Taylors" combined with fancy duds, she always wore matching Chucks with her sorority formals, and her brother wore spankin' new Chucks with his own wedding tux five years ago. Oh yeah, she wore the strappies for the ceremony but partied on all night long with those Chucks.

Do I have cool kids or what?

Tanya Writes About...a picture being worth a thousand words.

Just finished: Cranberry Hearts, Barbour Anthology. A+

It's hard getting back to the blog. I don't know why I thought I'd have more time now that the wedding is over! There are tons of pictures to go through, memories to relive. Wedding roses to dry. Real life going on. And a Christian inspirational novella I'm finishing up...(a new genre for me, as well as a contemporary setting. Wish me luck!)

So here's a baby GQ moment for you. The Ring bearer. Is he adorable or what?

Tanya Writes About A Wedding...and an Anniversary

Last week, we shared our daughter in marriage. There's no "giving away" for us. She's got a lovely man who treats her right...who treats her the way her daddy has treated me for 35 years this very day. I adopted a star for him so it can shine down on us, always, until the end of our days.

So, this one's for you, babe:

STILL THE ONE (Orleans)

We've been together since way back when
Sometimes I never want to see you again
But I want you to know, after all these years
You're still the one I want whisperin' in my ear

You're still the one I want to talk to in bed
Still the one that turns my head
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

I looked at your face every day
But I never saw it 'til I went away
When winter came, I just wanted to go
Deep in the desert, I longed for the snow

You're still the one that makes me laugh
Still the one that's my better half
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

You're still the one that makes me strong
Still the one I want to take along
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

Changing, our love is going gold
Even though we grow old, it grows new

You're still the one that I love to touch
Still the one and I can't get enough
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

You're still the one who can scratch my itch
Still the one and I wouldn't switch
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

You are still the one that makes me shout
Still the one that I dream about
We're still having fun, and you're still the one...

You're still the one, for now, for ever. For ever and ever AMEN.

Tanya Writes About "My Little Girl"

Oh, it was the best daddy-daughter dance ever. Yes, they practiced. Had a private lesson. Did I sob? No. Did I get misty and teary-eyed? Yes. How could I not? It was the moment I'd dreamed about since she was born, made even more real during the nightmare of her dad's illness last year.

You're beautiful, baby, from the outside in. Both of you! oxoxoxoxox


My Little Girl

Gotta hold on easy as I let you go.
Gonna tell you how much I love you, though you think you already know.
I remember I thought you looked like an angel wrapped in pink so soft and warm.
You've had me wrapped around your finger since the day you were born.

You're beautiful baby from the outside in.
Chase your dreams but always know the road that'll lead you home again.
Go on, take on this whole world.
But to me you know you'll always be, my little girl.

When you were in trouble that crooked little smile could melt my heart of stone.
Now look at you, I've turned around and you've almost grown.
Sometimes you're asleep I whisper "I Love You!" in the moonlight at your door.
As I walk away, I hear you say, "Daddy Love You More!".

You're beautiful baby from the outside in.
Chase your dreams but always know the road that'll lead you home again.
Go on, take on this whole world.
But to me you know you'll always be, my little girl.

Someday, some boy will come and ask me for your hand.
But I won't say "yes" to him unless I know, he's the half
that makes you whole, he has a poet's soul, and the heart of a man's man.
I know he'll say that he's in love.
But between you and me. He won't be good enough!

You're beautiful baby from the outside in.
Chase your dreams but always know the road that'll lead you home again.
Go on, take on this whole world.
But to me you know you'll always be, my little girl.

Tanya Writes About, well, being a MOBster

(No. She did not Say Yes to this Dress. But it was, briefly, a contender.)

Current read: (not a lot of time these days. These are great stories but I'm not quite done with the last one...) Cranberry Hearts, Barbour anthology.

We're in the countdown now. Nine months of planning have evaporated into six more days. Bridesmaids' luncheon is tomorrow...I'm finishing up the ring-bearer pillow, made from a scrap of the white satin I used to make her presentation dress for the sorority during Parents Weekend not all that long ago...fellow Cactus Rose author Paty Jager is filling in for me next Wednesday at Petticoats and Pistols...

Tuxes to get. Yellow satin ribbons to tie around the programs. Envelopes to address for the wedding favors--LIVESTRONG yellow bracelets. Mani-pedi, Massage. Last Wednesday's practice daddy-daughter dance (to Tim McGraw's "My Little Girl") had me so misted up I know I'll be comatose during The Real Thing.

That's because my hero told me, when the testicular cancer diagnosis smacked us in the head: Oh, I want to live to give my daughter away at her wedding.

Well, praise God. He's getting his wish!

I blogged a while back about the bone spur getting removed from my right foot. My intent was to heal up in time to get some kick-ass stilettos for the wedding. but I've have to content myself with three fun pairs of ballet slippers for the dancing part. I'll gut it through the black satin strappies during the ceremony. (I will not of course, wear all three. But I haven't yet decided which pair will make the cut. There is one pair, the Vera Wangs I did NOT get on sale, that will likely make the cut.)

After The Wedding is heartbreakingly over, and the lovebirds are sunning it up in Aruba, I'll get back to the blog with some of my good reviews for Marrying Minda and my oxymoronic goal to write an erotic short story AND an inspirational novella at the same time.

Do you think it can be done?

Be patient when nothing new appears here for a while. I've got a lot on that tiered crystal cake plate. So I'll leave you with an Old Scots Song.

The woman wasna taken
From Adam's head, ya know,
So she must no command him, (yeah right...this is me.)
'Tis evidently so;
The woman wasna taken from Adam's feet, you see,
So he must no abuse her--
The meaning seems to be.
The woman she was ta'en
From under Adam's arm,
Which shows he must protect her
From injury and harm.

Tanya Writes About...Marriage

Current read: Cranberry Hearts, Barbour anthology


Here are some witticisms to share while we await our daughter's wedding day...and while I scour the attic to find the garter I wore for her something borrowed. Something, blue, and something old. One fell swoop. I easily found for her the sixpence I wore in my shoe, but the garter is playing a gosh darned game of hide-in-seek.

On marriage:

To have and to hold. from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.
--Book of Common Prayer

Marriage resembles a pair of shears, so joined that they cannot e separated; often moving in opposite directions, yet always punishing anyone who comes between them.
--Sydney Smith

No matter how happily a woman may be married, it always pleases her to discover that there is a nice man who wishes that she were not.
--H.L. Mencken

Many a man has fallen in love with a girl in a light so dim he couldn't have chosen a suit by it.
--Maurice Chevalier

What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.
--Matthew XIX, vi

Well, time to dig some more...

Tanya Writes About the Lunar Module

Current read: Cranberry Hearts Anthology, Barbour Press
Just finished: The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane, Katherine Howe. Grade B+

However, the module is a woman!

Now, I agonize over names. Nothing named by me, whether child, pet, or fictional character is done lightly. So I have a great interest in the names selected by other people.

When his daughter was born forty years ago on the day Apollo 11 landed on the moon, Eddie McGhee celebrated in full and named her Module. Yes, Module. Not Edwina after Edwin "Buzz" Aldrin or Michaela after Michael Collins. Not even Eagle, for "The Eagle Has Landed."

Module.

A mother and special education teacher, Module claims she's always loved her name, and as far as I can tell, she never shortened it.

"My name has opened the door in some places," says the Columbus, Georgia, resident. It's even helped in job interviews in giving prospective bosses something different to talk about.

Her dad felt her name was appropriate for the historic event. Truth to tell, he wanted to name her Lunar Module McGhee, but her mom pooh-poohed it. It didn't quite sound right, mama said.

I remember Moon Unit Zappa calling herself plain Moon. Lunar could feminize it to Luna...and Module could have nicknamed herself Maude. Or even a more timely Mod.

But then she wouldn't have the most unique name ever!

Hmmmmmmmm. A romance heroine named Module? Could open some doors!

Tanya Writes About...Petticoats and Orange Slices

When it rains, it pours! I'm featured at two blogs today and would love for you to stop by. Comment and mention my blogspot to be included in a name-draw for an e-copy of Marrying Minda.

At Petticoats, I am all about my daughter's upcoming wedding. Stop by and see what a flock of birds has to do with a wedding, besides being a potential air-strike hazard.

And my "newbie" advice at Orange County Chapter RWA just might be helpful.

www.petticoatsandpistols.com

http://occsliceoforange.blogspot.com/

Hope to see you there!!!

Tanya Writes About the First Food and Drink on The Moon

Just finished: The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane, by
Katherine Howe, Grade B+
Current read: Cranberry Hearts, Barbour Anthology


During that remarkable moon landing forty years ago today, the Apollo 11 crew had a variety of freeze-dried meals that needed a squirt of water and smushing around in the bag before eating. There wasn't any hot water aboard the Lunar Module. Sounds yummy , huh?

No surprise, maybe, that the first things a man ate and drank on the moon were a Communion wafer and a thimbleful of wine!

Presbyterian church elder Buzz Aldrin had been given a home Communion kit by his pastor in suburban Houston...to take to the moon. The kit contained a wafer, a tiny vial of wine, and a thumb-sized silver chalice.

However, NASA had urged Aldrin not to celebrate the sacrament publicly. You see, atheist activist Madelyn Murray O'Hare had already made a giant stink and filed a lawsuit (Now, there's tolerance for ya!) because the Apollo 8 crew had read from Genesis for all the world to hear as their craft orbited the Moon on Christmas Eve 1968.

Instead, Aldrin radioed shortly after the moon landing, asking all listeners to observe a few moments of silence and give thanks in their own way.

He turned off the mike and administered Communion to himself while Armstrong watched silently. Aldrin poured the wine, read a few lines of scripture from a card, and partook of the Sacrament. It was many years before he told anybody about his Communion on the Moon. Today a recovering alcoholic, Aldrin is outspoken about his battle with alcohol and his 30 years of sobriety.

The little chalice that went to the moon was returned to Webster Presbyterian Church, now locked in a safe-deposit box. The church uses a replica chalice every year in a service celebrating the first moon landing forty years ago today.

Forty years ago tonight, I stood outside, chills rustling my spine on the hot summer night as I marveled that human beings were up there, so high. In this morning's paper, a local professor mentioned somewhat disheartened, that his 19-20 year old students disbelieve the moon landing, it was faked, a giant ruse.

Oh, the cynicism. Popular culture isn't a very fun place to be sometimes.

Tanya Writes About Seau again...

Current read: The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane, by Katherine Howe

I had lunch with my good friend Maxine yesterday and she extolled about Marrying Minda...and the bio page...except that it mentions my two very spoiled black Labs. Minda was already in production before our sweethearts had to cross the Rainbow Bridge.

How I still mourn and always will. I still see Marl standing at the end of the breezeway between our house and the fence, running into my arms after I loaded the garbage can. Seau's tail still echoes each morning, bashing happiness against the wood floors.

But I realized I had to do one last sad thing: notify the doggie-day care kennel that, this summer, they wouldn't have our sweet boy to tend. I not only got lovely condolences in an e-mail, but we also got a hand-created card signed by all the attendants. Eveybody included a comment. Oh, how my heart is warmed.

Sorry for your loss. Seau was a wonderful dog. He will be dearly missed. Love, Dawn

Seau was so sweet and we will think of him fondly. Thank you for letting us take care of him. Love, Judy

I'm sorry for your loss. Seau was such a sweet boy. I will miss his cute face. Tina

Seau was a great dog and we will all miss him. Anthony

I am so sorry to hear about Seau. He was such a wonderful dog. He made such a good friend and was a joy to just hang out with. I will miss him. oxox Jenny

Love back to all of you at Flying High Pet Resort.

Tanya Writes About "Time Travel"

Howdy, ya’ll. Guess what? It’s possible to time-travel in Southern California not far from my homestead! Just twenty minutes from the coastal town of Santa Barbara, you’ll find Cold Spring Tavern, an original stage-coach stop that hasn’t changed much at all in 130 years.

Since my current release, Marrying Minda, starts out with a mail-order bride arriving in a strange town by stagecoach --wearing her white wedding gown no less, you could say I’ve got stagecoaches on the brain. And any time, any reason, Cold Spring Tavern is one of my favorite places to go. Although its name suggests just one spring, truth is, some 52 springs burble on the property set in a rustic, woodsy mountainside on the San Marcos Pass. If you come for lunch on a cold day, you can enjoy a gorgeous rock fireplace roaring with heat…and small wood-burning stoves throughout the tiny rooms.

Although game meat is often featured on the daily menu, my favorite is the chili burger…with extra pickle. Whenever I need an old-style western fix, my hubby and I take a drive through the pass and get lunch at the tavern.

The “necessary” is still an outhouse…with modern plumbing, and pictures and newspaper articles of the tavern’s past life adorn the walls. Built in 1856 for travelers braving San Marcos Pass, the tavern’s various owners have, fortunately, protected its original Old West appearance. Started in 1886 as a relay station for stagecoaches, the tavern saw drivers exchanging horses and adding two more for the arduous trip over the mountains. Passengers could stop for meals that, according to legend, were as delicious then as now.

Chinese laborers constructing the “turnpike” over San Marcos Pass in 1868 bunked in the old "Road Gang House" still situated on the property. Featured on many TV shows and at least once a movie set, the tavern has over the years hosted celebrities whose visits the owners do not publicize because “that’s why they come here.” A regular visitor brought his elderly father recently who claimed the place hadn’t changed a whit since his first visit years ago. That is my idea of preserving history!

In a recent poll. Cold Spring Tavern has been voted the most romantic place in California. I couldn’t agree more. If you’re ever in the Santa Barbara area, make sure you relax in the Old West ambience of Cold Spring Tavern. Although it isn’t far off the “turnpike” (aka Highway 154), it’s hidden a mile or so up the mountain, and you are literally in another world, far away from modern hustle and bustle.

Here’s a short excerpt of Minda Becker arriving in Paradise to marry….the wrong man. I’m thrilled her story has been a top seller at TWRP since its release. Enjoy!

Paradise, Nebraska, July 1878

Where is Norman Dale?

Minda’s heart thumped. The noon stage had run late, so he had plenty of time to get here. Unless he had backed out.

She swallowed hard. Nowhere on the empty street did she see a bridegroom bearing a bouquet of her favorite white roses.The gulp turned into a sob. They had signed a legal contract fair and square, and the dry official document hadn’t stopped them from falling a little bit in love with each other. His letters had been full of compliments and promises and excitement, too, about meeting face-to-face.
And today was the day.

Even in the stuffy interior of the stagecoach, Minda shivered with a chill of unease. After tossing her valises on the boardinghouse steps, the driver lifted her down. Minda shrugged out of the long linen duster she’d worn as protection against the grime of travel, for underneath she wore her wedding gown. Norman Dale’s last letter had sweetly insisted they wed the minute she arrived.

Trying to impart a radiant smile, she paid no heed to the reactions of her fellow travelers. The woman wearing an old-style coal-scuttle bonnet of green gingham had chatted pleasantly for the last five miles, but upon seeing Minda’s silk and lace, her mouth turned wide and silent as a full moon. And a grubby codger leered while showing off his two brown teeth.

She ignored them just as she’d paid no heed to her younger sisters’ claims that a spinster didn’t need a lovely white wedding gown. Well, Minda Becker might be a spinster and a mail-order bride on top of it. But she was a bride, and she was going to do it right.

In the hot dust of the departing stage, she drooped in disillusion at the hard-luck little town. Norman Dale’s letters had glorified Paradise. Truth to tell, her new hometown was one brick building and a dozen false-front wooden structures with miles of cornfields and prairie grass billowing around the edges. Her bridegroom’s own farm and fine wooden house must lie quite a ways outside of town.

She caught sight of a trim white church down the street and the slew horses and wagons hitched to rough-hewn posts along its side. Relief as sweet as her silk dress flooded her. Of course. Norman Dale must be busy greeting wedding guests who waited on a bride delayed by a stage running late. Of course he’d be along in a minute to fetch her. They’d already agreed to march up the aisle together. A widower had no reason to wait at the altar for a mail-order bride who had no one to give her away.

Past the church, tables piled with platters and baskets sat in the shade of big cottonwoods along the riverbank. Her wedding dinner. Goodness, she was about to become Mrs. Norman Dale Haynes. With a quiver of delight, she shook dust and wrinkles from her skirts and walked up the boardinghouse steps to seek a mirror and a bowl of cool water for freshening.

But a closed sign hung on the lopsided door. Minda smiled at her reflection in the grimy window anyway. Likely the innkeeper was a wedding guest already at church. After digging through a valise, she brought out the veil she’d fashioned from odds and ends at the millinery back home. Just touching the beautiful headpiece set a new flock of butterflies aflutter inside her belly. The froth of netting cascaded from a wreath of roses she’d crafted from scraps of ivory velvet.

As she arranged the veil, she heard her name. However, the angle of reflection didn’t let her see the speaker.

“Miz Becker? You are Minda Becker, right?”

She turned to see a man approaching, tall and lean in his Sunday best, awkwardly carrying her bridal bouquet.

Mr. Norman Dale Haynes. She couldn’t stop the outtake of breath. He was much younger and far more handsome than the daguerreotype he had sent her. Hair dark as midnight brushed each side of his neck, and tall as he was, her head wouldn’t reach his shoulder. Her face warmed. It wouldn’t take long at all to give him her whole heart.

Or her body.

Her heart hammered beneath her whalebone corset. Heat that had nothing to do with the weather poured over her like new milk. Merciful heavens, he must have wed young the first time around to have the teenage daughter he needed her to raise.
This man didn’t appear to have any flaws at all.

She tingled from top to toe, recalling how her three married sisters, with many blushes, had explained the delights of the marriage bed. She wanted the same for herself.

Tanya Writes Again About Her Real-Life Hero

Currently reading: The Physick of Deliverance Dane/Katherine Howe
Recently finished: Pillars of the Earth/Ken Follet, Grade A+
Recently finished (second time) Angels and Demons/Dan Brown, Grade B

Well, I started this blog 18 months ago to promo my book, Midnight Bride. But the day the book was released, my husband (my hero) got a diagnosis that changed our lives and the very way we think about living: Life is a gift!

You have testicular cancer.

Needless to say, I lost it. A book was the least of my concerns. He was everything, and still is. In an effort to keep sane, this blog became "the hero's journey" as I unloaded, cried, prayed in the deep dark hours of endless nights. During the three months of chemo (a treatment called BEP) I found I couldn't read or write a single thing ...except during the early hours of sleeplessness, I unloaded in the blog. We actually found out the cancer is a result of 34 years of firefighting! Go figure. Save lives to almost lose your own!

Fortunately, after surgery and the terrifically brutal chemotherapy treatment (during which several times I was sure I had lost him), we heard the fantastic words, "you're in remission," and he's been cancer-free now for over 15 months. We expect a full long healthy life for him. And ever since he got his stamina back, we've been on the move. There is always some place we haven't been yet (like New York City where we celebrated his life last summer) to places we like to go back to (like Palm Springs, three week ago). So after the nightmare comes the wonder of life and health and love.

And my hero reading my latest book, Marrying Minda, in public, poolside, at the hotel.

Now, how's that for a true hero?

Tanya Writes About the Tuxedo!

Howdy~

Today's my blog day at the wonderful all-Western site sponsored by a baker's dozen of award-winning Western romance authors. Do stop by Petticoats and Pistols where I'm featuring the history of the Tux...as well as some pix of the up-coming ring bearer.

See you there!

Tanya Writes About NOT Getting Rid of Your Pet When You Have A Child

Sincere thanks to Jennie for the blog-swap. I hope to present other fellow Western authors from time-to-time. In the meantime, I hope you'll visit me and my filly friends at Petticoats and Pistols, an all-Western romance site. There's always something fun going on.

Today is just for fun. You may have already gotten the "Reasons for Not Getting Rid of Your Pet When You have A Child" e-mail that's circulating the web, (as if any soul-less person could do that!) but I couldn't resist. It's two months now since we said good-bye to Seau, almost a year since Marley crossed the Rainbow Bridge...

Enjoy.

Tanya Writes About author Jennie Marsland...and HER mail-order bride

Howdy! Today I’m doing something for the first time, blog-swapping with a fellow author who’s featuring me at her site. I sure hope you’ll visit me there.

Right now, let’s show some down-home hospitality to my friend Jennie Marsland. She might live a world away from my homestead on the central coast of California, but we share some common bonds: we love Retrievers, Lucy Maud Montgomery, and mail-order brides! You’re going to enjoy her latest release, McShannon’s Chance, where half-Cajun, half- British Trey McShannon raises Thoroughbreds and seeks to ease his loneliness with a mail-order bride, affluent watercolor artist Beth Underhill.

Needless to say, she’s a lot more than he bargained for.

Jennie is a teacher, a painter, a musician and, for over thirty years, a writer. She fell in love with words at a very early age and the affair has been life-long. She enjoy writing songs and poetry as well as fiction and shares a home in Nova Scotia with her husband, cats Patch and Emily and a Duck-Tolling Retriever, Chance.

Jennie, what got you interested in writing?

Reading. My parents read to my brother and me every night, and before I started school I picked it up by osmosis. Words became the natural outlet for my overactive imagination. One of my grandfathers was a writer, so genetics likely played a part too.

How long have you been writing?

About thirty-five years off and on, with long dry spells in between. I’ve been actively trying to get published for the last two years.

For you, what are the most important elements of good writing?

For me, the most important thing is character. The people I’m reading about have to be multi-dimensional, real and sympathetic, and they have to change and grow over the course of the story. My biggest turn-off, especially in romance novels, is a hero or heroine I can’t root for because I can’t like them. As for plot, it has to be believable and well researched.

Tell us about your new release

McShannon's Chance is set in the Colorado Territory in 1870. The hero, Trey McShannon, is half-British and half-Cajun, a Georgia boy who fought for the Union in the Civil War. For obvious reasons he couldn’t go home afterwards, so he went west and settled near the fictional frontier town of Wallace Flats. After nearly five years of working on his dream of raising Thoroughbred horses, hard work and loneliness are wearing Trey down, so he sends for a mail-order bride and meets Beth Underhill.

Beth is a watercolor artist, strong-willed and a bit too unconventional for the liking of her proper, affluent eastern family. Living in Denver with her cousin after the death of the aunt who raised her, she doesn’t want to be sent back east to find a ‘suitable’ husband. Beth is disillusioned with the marriage market and finds Trey’s honest business proposal more appealing.

Trey thinks the war has left him too emotionally burnt out to feel real love. He’s hoping for a wife he can live with, but Beth is a whole lot more than he bargained for. She’s looking for choices and determined to live on her own terms, which include pursuing a reputation as a painter. She shares Trey’s love of Thoroughbreds and isn’t afraid of the hard work his life entails. Her nerve and honesty win his respect and he can’t look at her without wanting her in his arms, but Trey has to overcome his personal demons and learn to trust before he can have the family he longs for.

What books or authors have most influenced your own writing?

There are so many, but the biggest is probably Lucy Maud Montgomery. I learned from her very young that everyone has a story and that everyday life is full of small-scale drama. Montgomery’s own writing journey, as described in her journals, taught me about perseverance. I love her sense of humor and her sense of place – and the fact that she was one of the first female authors in North America to sue her unscrupulous publisher and win! The fact that she’s a fellow Maritimer doesn’t hurt either.
Others…Zane Grey and Louis L’Amour are responsible for my love of Westerns. I grew up reading my father’s collection and had childhood crushes on L’Amour’s Ty Sackett and Grey’s Lassiter. I read Westerns instead of romances as a teenager. Rugged, romantic heroes, spirited heroines, horses, what more could a girl want?

Are you working on anything at the present you’d like to share with us?

Yes, I’m working on a prequel to Chance. It’s called McShannon’s Heart and it’s the story of Trey’s twin sister Rochelle, who moves with her father to his old home in Yorkshire, England at the outbreak of the Civil War. Chelle leaves a fiancé behind in Georgia with the promise that she’ll wait for him until the war ends, but she finds herself attracted to a Dales farmer, Martin Rainnie, who happens to be a talented musician. I’m incorporating some of my own love of folk music into this one.

Wow, you have so many talents, Jennie. I love that you incorporate them into your writing. Thanks so very much for spending these next few days at my blog. I’m eager for your next book and wish for you much creativity and many sales! To purchase McShannon's Chance, please click here.

Yee Haw, Wendi Zwaduk

Howdy, Wendi! Your name is the one drawn from that ten-gallon hat. Please e-mail me at
tanhanson@aol.com to make arrangements for your e-copy of Marrying Minda.

Thanks for blogging with me! And I hope the scent of roses lingers on and on!

"Stop and Smell the Roses" Blog Bouquet

Howdy ya'll!

Welcome to Tanya Writes Romance! Please leave a comment for a chance to win an e-copy of Marrying Minda, my current release at The Wild Rose Press. Check back tomorrow for the winning name drawn from my cowboy hat!

I'm part of the Cactus Rose posse, authors who write romance set in the Old West. There's something about a guy in a Stetson...does it for me every time. Marrying Minda is the tale of a mail-order bride who finds herself married to the wrong man, and with a daughter of my own getting married in a few weeks, I guess you could say I've got weddings on my mind big-time.

I'm thrilled and humbled at Marrying Minda being a best-seller at The Wild Rose Press for four weeks now. For this I must thank my terrific editor Helen Andrew and cover designer, Nicola Martinez for their amazing talent and professionalism.

I hope you like the excerpt and blurb posted below. Please check out my website. I've always got some kind of contest going on. And I sure hope to see you at Petticoats and Pistols, the all-Western site where I am a regular blogger along with a dozen other authors of western romance. This week's Excerpt Week!

Don't forget: after leaving your comment here, mosey on to each author blog linked below. Everybody's got prizes and fun going on. See you again real soon!
http://amberleighwilliams.blogspot.com
http://authorsstudio.blogspot.com

http://bettyhanawa.blogspot.com
http://christineclemetson.blogspot.com
http://findagreatromance.blogspot.com
http://www.freewebs.com/lesmora/apps/blog/
http://freewebs.com/teriwilson/apps/blog/
http://hywelalyn.blogspot.com
http://jennfrancesca.blogspot.com
http://lianalaverentz.blogspot.com

http://plotsandthoughts.blogspot.com

http://traveltheages.blogspot.com


http://grgiall.blogspot.com
http://LindaHopeLee.blogspot.com
http://joycemoore.blogspot.com
http://lje1.wordpress.com
http://noveltrails.blogspot.com
http://tinagayle.blogspot.com
http://willtravelforromance.blogspot.com

Blurb:

Mail-order bride Minda Becker arrives in Paradise, Nebraska and eagerly marries the handsome man who meets her stagecoach. His wedding kiss melts her toes. Too bad he's the wrong bridegroom. Cowboy Brixton Haynes can't deny he'd like a wedding night with the eastern beauty, but the last thing he needs is to be saddled with a wife and the three children his brother left behind. First chance he gets, he'll be back point riding along the Goodnight. But leaving Minda proves to be much harder than he expected.

Excerpt:

Night fell soft and silent, and the snuffles of Norman Dale’s livestock comforted Brixton with memories of the trail. Lord, he couldn’t wait to get back.
Habit had him walk quiet as he could from the barn to the house. Even the tiniest noise sparked stampedes on the trail, so his footsteps were cautious wherever he went.

At the back porch, he set down Minda’s valises and paused to peek in the back window. Her lush curves swayed beneath the simple dress as she readied the children for bed, and he couldn’t fill his vision fast enough. The memory of her soft sweet cheek brushed his fingertips once more, and his heart raced and his groin throbbed. It was the heartbeat he didn’t like; a man desiring a beautiful woman was just what a man did. But a galloping heart might mean a man felt something deep inside.

Even worse, night after night alone on the trail, he’d keep seeing her shining hair sweep across little Ned’s shoulders while she kissed the top of the lad’s head. So he pulled out his flask and drank deeper. It was too much like having a family of his own, something he swore he never needed. Suddenly he missed his brother more than he’d missed anything.

Until this minute, he had never felt shy about coming through this door without a knock. His wife’s current disposition gave him pause, but he had goods to deliver and damn, the kids just might like one of his good-night songs. His tongue clicked. Truth to tell, his bride would think him nothing but a rowdy bridegroom wanting a tumble between the sheets. Already she’d tried to disgrace him by letting a room at the boardinghouse just for herself.

Another long hard swig consoled his throat as it emptied his flask. Damn woman.

Tanya Writes About the Dangers of the Trail

Howdy! This will likely be my final Cowboy Month Salute. Marrying Minda's still on the best seller list and I'm super-stoked. Join me here Monday for the "Stop and Smell the Roses" Blog Bouquet Day for twenty Wild Rose Press authors. Visit each of our blogs...every author is awarding a prize.

Mine is an e-copy of Marrying Minda!

Well, for today, I thought I'd mention the grand-daddy danger of them all:
The Stampede

The trail was a dangerous place. Cowboys kept alert for wolves, scorpions, bears, and rattlesnakes. Then there was the weather. Blizzards and dry watering holes come quickly to mind.

But most dangerous of all was the stampede. Cattle got scared, ran close together, stumbling and falling, endangering cowboys and their horses with trampling and even the sharp edges of longhorns. Sometimes stampeding cattle ran over cliffs or fell into gullies or raging rivers. In one gull-washer mishap, 2,000 steers died!

In addition to dead beeves, surviving cows could have broken limbs and horns or bruises and other injuries that prevented their sale. That meant lost money for the rancher.

What causes a stampede?

Any noise in the dark--even a cowboy lighting a match.

Thunder, lightning or hail.

A rabbit or deer jumping in the brush.

Pots and pans clanking.

Coyotes howling.

Even a tumblewood rolling into the herd.

Wow. No wonder those cowpokes sang lullabies to keep those beeves calm!

Have a wonderful weekend. And see you Monday when you stop and smell the roses.

Tanya Writes About Fifteen of the 25 Best Country Song Titles of All Time

Further honoring the cowpoke's culture during Cowboy Month at The Wild Rose Press, I'm turning today to country music titles.
From "25 Best Country Songs Titles Of All Time"
These are all genuine songs, mainly released in the United States:

1. If I Can't Be Number One In Your Life,Then Number Two On You
2. If The Phone Don't Ring, You'll Know It's Me
3. She's Actin' Single and I'm Drinkin' Doubles
4. How Can I Miss You If You Won't Go Away?
5. I Keep Forgettin' I Forgot About You
6. I Liked You Better Before I Knew You So Well
7. I Still Miss You, Baby, But My Aim's Getting' Better
8. I Wouldn't Take Her To A Dog Fight,Cause I'm Afraid She'd Win
9. I'll Marry You Tomorrow, But Let's Honeymoon Tonight
10. I'm So Miserable Without You; It's like Having You Here
11. My Wife Ran Off With My Best Friend, And I Sure Do Miss Him
12. She Got The Ring And I Got The Finger
13. You're The Reason Our Kids Are So Ugly
14. She's Lookin' Better After Every Beer
15. I Haven't Gone To Bed With Ugly Women, But I've Sure Woke Up With a Few

Now, the above list made me laugh, but these are my particular favorites, in no particular order:

1. Honkytonkdadonkadonk--Trace Adkins
2. How 'Bout them Cowgirls?--George Strait
3. Whose Bed Have your Boots Been Under?--Shania Twain
4. Heart Don't Forget Something Like That--Tim McGraw
5. Cowgirls Don't Cry--Brooks and Dunn
6. Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy--Big and Rich



Hope to see y'all next time!

Tanya Writes About Cowboy Fun

Howdy!
Well, you just might think Cowboy Fun is a quick draw or a dead-man's-hand, a soiled dove at a saloon, or a big chaw of tobacco and a spittoon...but you'd be dead wrong!

This is still my salute to Cowboy Month at my wonderful publisher, The Wild Rose Press. (Be still my heart. Marrying Minda is in its third week as a best-seller.) Cowboys on the trail worked hard and let off steam in fairly simple ways. Such as:

1. Dominoes.

2. Mumblety Peg...when players flipped sharp wooden pets into the ground and tried to get them to stand up straight. The loser had to use his teeth to pull the pegs out of the ground!

3. Love songs and lullabies. Ah, you can all whistle that tune from The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. Or you'd know if it you heard it. But whistling and humming helped ease the boredom of the trail drive that at times could seem endless. Cowboys also sang love songs, maybe to remind them of The Girl Back Home...or the girl that got away. Some played the harmonica, fiddle or guitar. And lullabies helped keep the cows calm. After all, they didn't know what was out there in the dark.

(And ya'll remember Brixton singing lullabies to his brother's orphaned kids.)

4. Tall tales. Pecos Bill, Paul Bunyan, and the Jumping Frog of Calaveras County come to mind. Likely each tale had its root in fact, but exaggeration made it tons more fun to listen to.

Let's close with a little song...courtesy of Bobbie Kalman's "Life on the Trail."

All day on the prairie in the saddle I ride
Not even a dog to trot by my side.
My fire I kindle with chips gathered round
And boil my own coffee without being ground.
I wash in a puddle and wipe on a sack,
I carry my wardrobe right there on my back.

Oh, for those simpler times! Brixton Haynes, hero of Marrying Minda, would have done all this. Nevertheless, I feel the need to go shopping tomorrow.

Sigh.

Ps. don't forget to visit my website and sign the guestbook to enter the name draw for a copy of Marrying Minda...autographed yet.

Tanya Writes About Stuff Cowboys Needed

Howdy! Cowboy Month is still going on at The Wild Rose Press where I'm thrilled to say Marrying Minda is on the best-seller list!Yee-haw.

So I figured out what Minda's hero, Brixton Haynes, would need for round-up or point riding along the trail.

1. A branding iron...the symbol made by a blacksmith to mark an animal's hide.

2. A saddle, the cowboy's most important piece of equipment as it kept him secure and comfy on his horse's back, and saddlebags to hold his "possibles."

3. A lariat...a rope made from hemp fibers or braided rawhide.

4. A bandanna....kept dust out of his face, strained dirty water before drinking, made a handy bandage.

5. A Stetson...the wide brim kept sun and rain off his face, carried water for a cowboy or his horse, and fanned a campfire. (Besides making him look darn sexy.)

6. Spurs...sometimes called jinglebobs, a round disk with points worn on the heel of the boot and gently used to get a horse moving. Of course, many guys believed an experienced rider did not have to use spurs to control his mount.

7. A gun...used mostly on critters like coyotes and snakes to protect the herd on the trail. Bullets were costly so cowboys didn't use a gun unless absolutely necessary.

8. Chaps...leather leggings over wool or denim trousers to protect against brush, cactus, long horns.

9. Boots...the high heels kept the feet from slipping out of the stirrup, but the style was dreadfully uncomfortable for walking.

10. A harmonica, fiddle or guitar. Singing eased boredom and kept the cattle calm.

Now, ride on over to my website and sign the guestbook for a chance at the name-draw to win an autographed copy of the book.

Tanya Writes About Horse Songs...if only they could sing

Well, what cowboy-loving person doesn’t love a horse? In homage to Cowboy Month at the Wild Rose Press, here’s a list of classic and modern songs about those magnificent mounts.

All the Pretty Little Ponies from Flicka

"Blacks and bays
Dapples and grays,
Running in the night.
When you wake
You shall have
All the pretty little ponies."

This pretty song is actually a children’s lullaby.

Cowgirls Don't Cry by Brooks and Dunn (with Reba McEntire)

"Cowgirls don't cry.
Ride, baby, ride.
Lessons in life are going to show you in time;
Soon enough, you're gonna know why.
It's gonna hurt every now and then.
If you fall, get back on again.
Cowgirls don't cry."

Seeing these three performers (all favorites of mine) sing this song at a recent concert totally rocked. It’s a good reminder to me to "Cowgirl Up" when I get into one of my big-baby moods.

Get Off My Back from Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron, 2002

"Get off of my back and into my game.
Get out of my way, 'cause I'm wild and untamed.
Get out of my face, or give it your best shot.
I think it's time you better face the fact -
Get off of my back."

This animated motion picture exemplified a spirited stallions defiance against cowboys attempting to saddle him to carry a rider.


Happy Trails by Roy Rogers and Dale Evans Rogers

"Happy trails to you,
Until we meet again.
Happy trails to you,
Keep smilin' until then."

No more needs to be said about this one.


Wildfire by Michael Martin Murphey

"On Wildfire we're gonna ride -
Gonna leave sodbustin' behind.
Get these hard times right on out of our minds,
Riding Wildfire."

Michael Martin Murphey is known as the "cowboy minstrel."

Wild Horses by Natasha Beningfield

"All I want is the wind in my hair,
To face the fear but, not feel scared.
Wild horses, I wanna be like you,
Throwing caution to the wind.
I'll run free too.
Wish I could recklessly love, like I'm longing to.
I wanna run with the wild horses, run with the wild horses."

Some more to get off iTunes:

"Back in the Saddle Again," by Gene Autry

"Beer for My Horses," by Toby Keith and Willie Nelson

"Good Ride, Cowboy," by Garth Brooks

"Horse with No Name," by America

"How 'bout Them Cowgirls," by George Strait

"Let That Pony Run," by Pam Tillis

"My Rifle, My Pony and Me," by Dean Martin and Ricky Nelson

"No Reins," by Rascal Flatts

"The Old Grey Mare (Just Ain't What She Used to Be)"

"Ride," by Martina McBride

"Rodeo," by Garth Brooks

"White Horse," by Taylor Swift

"Wild Horses," by Garth Brooks

Thanks for joining me today. Well, tonight. I’ve got Wild Horses galloping through my brain…although maybe I ought to try for that Flicka lullaby. It’s late.

Or early. Depends on how you define 1 a.m.

(Sincere thanks to Linda Ann Nickerson.)

Tanya Writes About Cowboy Wisdom

Further saluting during Cowboy Month those hotties that ride the rodeo, tend the ranch and wrangle herds, here are some downhome proverbs to live by.

“Always drink upstream from the herd”

“Careful as a naked man climbin' a barbed wire fence”

“Don't squat with your spurs on”

“If you get to thinkin' you're a person of some influence, try orderin' somebody else's dog around”

“If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop digging”

“Never kick a cow chip on a hot day”

”Timing has a lot to do with the outcome of a rain dance”

“You can tell a true cowboy by the type of horse that he rides”

“Don't interfere with something that ain't bothering you none”

“The biggest troublemaker you'll probably ever have to deal with watches you shave his face in the mirror every morning”

P.s. I got a compliment last night during our cul-de-sac "Zumba" session from my beloved friend Betty next store, a super-busy mom and wife who works full time. "I couldn't put Marrying Minda down. I stayed up until midnight and set the alarm an hour early. I love her."

Thanks, Betty. Love you back!!! oxoxox

Tanya Writes About Horses of Another Color

Howdy! My salute to Cowboy Month continues. Now, what's a cowboy without a horse? Much as I love the bovine persuasion, I almost wish those buckaroos were called horseboys in honor of those elegant, hardworking, temperamental equines.

Here's some downhome kinds of four-legged friends. I mean, we all know paints from Little Joe, and Appaloosa from, well, Appaloosa. Mustang from Ford. But...did you know~

1. Bangtail is another name for a wild horse, a mustang.

2. Cold back is a green, or unbroke, horse.

3. Churnhead is slang for a stubborn horse.

4. Dobbin is a gentle farm horse.

5. Buttermilk is another name for a palomino.

6. Calico is spotted, piebald: a pinto.

7. Cremello is an albino with pink skin and blue eyes.

8. Medicine hat, a black speckled mustang, was considered good luck by the Indians.

9. Palomilla is a milk white with white mane and tail.

10. Sabino is light red or roan with a white belly.

How about that for a remuda, the string of horses, preferably geldings, assigned to cowboys on a ranch or along the trail?

I think my favorite movie horse was the mountain horse in Man from Snowy River. Broke my heart when the bad guys shot him out from under. Won't be watching that movie for a long, long time. How about you?

Tanya Writes About the Cowboy's Ten Commandments

In honor of Cowboy Month at the Wild Rose Press...and June 29's "Stop and Smell the Roses" Day featuring a cyber-bouquet authors' blogspots, I thought I'd fill the ole' blog up for the next few days with cowboy lore, trivia, lists, favorites, and cute stuff.

Here ya go: a Western riff on Exodus.

Cowboy Ten Commandments

1. Just one God.

2. Honor yer ma & pa.

3. No tellin' tales or gossipin.'

4. Get yerself to Sunday meetin.'

5. Put nothin' before God.

6. No foolin' around with another fella's gal.

7. No killin.'

8. Watch yer mouth. Hold off on cussin.'

9. Don't take what ain't yers.

10. Don't be hankerin' for yer buddy's stuff.


Heck, seems like a darn good code for anybody to live by. (I know, I know. Technically heck and darn are cussin.) For all his rough edges, Brixton Haynes, the hero of Marrying Minda is a downright good guy, through and through. These rules are ones he lives by.

Enjoy!

Tanya Writes About Cowboy Month

Howdy! It's Cowboy Month at my wonderful publisher, The Wild Rose Press, featuring both historical and contemporary Stetson-capped hotties. So I hope you'll find some good reading. Our books are available both in e-form, and print at Amazon.

Some of my writing pals are featured in a terrific anthology...and I love anthos. I figure it's like getting several books in one. I intend to curl up for some great reads with a glass of my current fave, Aussie shiraz. How about joining me?

Tanya Writes About Helen's Heroes

Please join me here today for a little peek at Marrying Minda...and me!

http://helensheroes.blogspot.com

Helen's site is also a marvelous one for her features on hottie hunks. Whew.

Tanya Writes About...Thomas the Train

Whew. It's another sleepless night. I get them sometimes. Today was so fabulous in so many ways only to end with some bad news about a loved one. Sucks.

Yeah, I got my book shipment today, and Marrying Minda is beautiful!
Nicola Martinez designed such a stunning cover...and my hero was ecstatic, promising to read it instantly.

And I had a marvelous day blogging at Petticoats and Pistols, about Minda and the inception of the story.

But night came. I recalled another wonderful day recently, taking the grandbaby to Thomas the Train. If you know any little boy under ten, you know Thomas. We've got boxfuls of tracks and trains loaned to us by the dear boys next door who outgrew Thomas but are saving the huge investment for their own kids. When the antique railroad in Fillmore brought a Full-Size, actual Thomas the Train engine to town, well, we had to go.

A good time was had by all. If only I could see the world through the eyes of a child again, when the only worry was the next toy or cookie. Or tunnel!

Visit my website...I just updated it too. Another sleepless night thing.

Tanya Writes About Going Slightly Nuts

Yes, nuts. I realized I hadn't blogged for a while and figured I might as well blather about my past few days:

The wedding invitations for our daughter are ALMOST ready to go. A couple of mistakes on the inner envelopes via the calligrapher. But enough to make me Grrrrrrrrrrrr.

Then...I thought Conan O'Brien was totally insipid. What's all the hoopla about? A brand new studio? Give me a break. I know I'm old, but if that ranting is really today's humor, dude...kill me now. Give me Leno and Headlines any day.

Hurry, ten o'clock p.m. September!!

Jay's great. He emcee'd the firefighter cancer fundraiser last fall. He rocked. The turnout was great, and I played the cancer card when some young guy out-bid me for a Speed Racer set. I eventually won out and brought it home for the grandbaby, already a car nut.

Enough on that. My promo blog for Marrying Minda is featured today at Petticoats and Pistols. It's a "behind the book" thing about why I chose Nebraska for the setting.

I think today's pictures explain that pretty well.

Oh, and my masochism is settling in nicely: I bought FOUR more rose bushes today at Home Depot. We had lunch at BJ's first...the margherita flatbread pizza is delish, and at Facebook you can download $5 coupons.

Tomorrow is Zumba with my neighbors. I feel like Mrs. McClusky of Desperate Housewives hanging out with them, trying to get that Latin work-out rhythm, but they think I'm cool. Fuego...(that's one of the dance moves. Oh, I'm sooooooo very bad at it.)

The grandbaby was here last weekend, always the best part of any time. Oh, and today is his daddy's birthday, my wonderful, wonderful son upon whom the sun rises and sets. Oh we so lucked out with him.

That's it for now. As you see, blogging isn't exactly my thing. Other than Petticoats.