Meet Melinda Elmore!

"This book shows that true love knows no physical or spiritual bounds and that destiny will always prevail." -----Wells Mahkee Jr., Managing Editor, Navajo/Hopi Observer


I’d like to introduce you today to fellow historical romance author, Melinda Elmore, who sets her stories in the 19th century native American cultures. Melinda is a writer, a wife, and the mother of two. Native Dreams reveals the turbulent times of the 1800s and the hardships of Native Americans. Melinda is a freelance writer for the Navajo/Hopi Observer in Flagstaff, Arizona.
Here’s an excerpt from her latest release, Native Dreams.

Precious Hawk is viciously taken from her people
and forced to live in the white world, causing
inner turmoil. Many years later, Cloud Feather, a
perfect stranger, arrives to work on her
husband’s ranch. Experience the “awe” when Cloud
Feather rescues his beloved Precious Hawk, who
has come to him in many of his dreams. His heart
is to return Precious Hawk to her ancestral lands where she rightly belongs.

On the run, the daring couple nearly lose their
lives. Cloud Feather is gravely wounded. He is
taken to his village in hope that Red Wing, their
medicine man, can save his life. All the while,
Precious Hawk is with child, Cloud Feather’s child.

But Precious Hawk knows the evilness of John
Altan. Will he ever leave her alone? No, not until he is dead.

The Great Spirit joins their love, faith keeps
their minds hopeful, and their spiritual guides deliver guidance.


Melinda, I love your cover and the names of your H and H. Please tell us a little bit about yourself.

I have lived in Arizona and Tennessee. I have discovered wealth is not measured in how much money you have but in how much love you share.
I have been happily married to my wonderful husband, Tom for 22 years. I have two remarkable children, Shaelee and Erik.

As a young child, I loved reading and writing. Many nights I would wrap up in a blanket, daydream, while I turned the exciting pages of a book. The books would take me to many places. I loved the idea of going from the normal world in which I lived, then instantly I would be taken to a place far away.
To my surprise, I started writing and creating my very own world. A place where I could go and lose myself with just a pen and paper.

I grew up with the fascination of the American Indian. My love for them grew by leaps and bounds as I read about them from my history book. I wanted to show, in my writings, of the proud people that the American Indians truly are. They show honor and respect for all living things. If I can capture just a small portion of that in my writings then that would be an added bonus for me.

Native American Romance and Native American mysteries is my passion. I hope to reveal in my books the uniqueness of the American Indian. I feel truly blessed to try and reveal how special the American Indians truly are.

The love of my family and the love for the American Indian have become focal points in my stories. I will do my best for both of them. I sincerely pray readers enjoy the characters that I bring to life on each turning page!!!!

I promise, Melinda, we’ll enjoy those characters you bring to life, and the native cultures you so honor. Thanks for visiting my blog. Hope you visit me again soon!

Dia de la Muertos...the grateful dead

Hello! Happy Day of the Dead!

More than three thousand years ago, natives of today's Mexico mocked death in rituals honoring their goddess Mictecacihuatl during the month of today's August. Spanish explorers deemed the rites pagan and sacrilegious...but changed the dates to coincide with the Christian All Saints and All Souls Days, November 1 and 2, when the Aztec practice refused to die out.

Today, the holiday honors loved ones who have died, celebrating their lives with joy, special foods, and displays of their favorite things, on altars called ofrenda. Marigolds are the traditional flower and are even eaten in certain recipes.

I hope you'll join me on Wednesday, my regular blogging day at the all-Western romance site, Petticoats and Pistols, for a bit longer explanation on this fascinating holiday. Today, skulls are still an important part of the tradition, and but not with the grim gore of Halloween. Calacas and catrinas are usually depicted laughing and dancing, and kids enjoy eating sugar candy skulls.

I'm thinking of my dear, departed dad right now, with love and joy.

Hallo-"weenies"

Here are my niece-pups who live in Nevada.

Despite the cute pictures, Halloween isn't exactly a pet-friendly holiday. Thanks to the SPCA for the following information.

• Keep pets indoors on Halloween night as the extra activity can be dangerous.

• Confine your pets to a safe and quiet area. The constantly ringing doorbell can be stressful so place your pets in a quiet room, with their pet bed, favorite toys, soothing music, and if possible, a human companion.

• Do not take the family pet out trick-or-treating. Pets can be frightened by strange costumes and may result in the animal running away or acting out by attacking. Remember, pet owners can be liable for injuries inflicted by their pets.

• Never let your pet around lit candles. Pets may knock over candles and cause a fire. Curious kittens and puppies especially run the risk of getting burned.

• Candy is not for pets. Most candy will get your animals sick and chocolate is very dangerous as it is poisonous to many animals. Tinfoil wrappers can get lodged in your pets’ digestive tract. Keep the number of your local poison control center and emergency veterinarian handy just in case.

• Never dress your pet in a costume that is not made for pets. If you do dress your pets for Halloween, make sure it is a costume made for pets their size.

• Current Identification Tags are vital. With the door constantly in use on this holiday, pets can sneak out of the house. Make sure they’ve been microchipped and are wearing a collar with current tags.

Happy "BOO"-day!

Happy "HOWL"oween.

Current read: Painted Desert, by Nancy J. Farrier

Cute puppies, no?






Thanks to my cousin Trudi for the cute pix. Don't worry. I'll be back soon with more canine pictorial treats.

Signin' Books in Encino, CA

Current read: Painted Desert, by Nancy J. Farrier (Barbour anthology)


Los Angeles Romance Authors Book Fair...fifteen authors, and here I am among them. Yay. What a great day! We even got mentioned in the Los Angeles Times.

Highlights? Sold 'em all...and the grandbaby came. Sigh.

My New Book Cover! hip-hip HOORAY

Just finished: The Lost Symbol by Dan Brown; Grade C-
Here it is...isn't it gorgeous? I got the designer I requested (yes, she did Marrying Minda also), the marvelous artist and editor Nicola Martinez, and got the horses and lone cowboy as well. Sigh.

Now I need to speed-read and finish my edits. I've got a book signing on Sunday for Marrying Minda (can you tell Minda and Mattie are sisters?)...so wish me luck! I'll be posting the blurb next. My wonderful editor helped me with it. I am definitely not a woman of few words.

Thanks for stopping by.

Tanya's Take on Wild Horses and Burros

Current read: The Lost Symbol, by Dan Brown


Did you know nearly 37,000 wild horses and burros --descendants of the Wild West -- roam Nevada, California, and Wyoming? Another 32,000 are tended in corrals and pastures in Kansas, Oklahoma, and South Dakota. While the Bureau of Land Management rounds p thousands annually for adoption, there have been fewer takers the last few years.

In recent months, Secretary of the U.S. Department of the Interior Ken Salazar had warned that the slaughter of many of these animals might be inevitable. Water and forage are limited in the West, he said, and drought and wildfire threaten both range land and the animals' well-being. There are actually ranchers, Western lawmakers, and even a few Native American groups who long for this practice! Fortunately, Salazer, who is a former rancher, rejects this idea along with most of the American public.

Secretary Salazer has just announced to Congress a new plan to protect both the animals and range by moving thousands of horses and burros to preserves in the Midwest and East. Five preserves in addition to two already maintained would become refuge for 25,000 wild horses and burros. Many remaining on the range would be neutered, and reproduction closely monitored.

The planned preserves, essentially large ranches, would be accessible to the public, ecotourism. Salazar's plan is highly praised as it reverses decades of government policies that consider these critters "nuisances."

The thought of slaughter broke my heart. Horses and burros are tightly woven into the fabric of the Old West. I almost wish those buckaroos were called horseboys in honor of those elegant, hardworking, temperamental equines. And as for burros, well, I just love them and have sponsored three at a sanctuary in Israel.

If only I lived on a farm or ranch and not a typical suburban cul-de-sac. There would be no end to the number of critters in my homegrown zoo. (I'll write about the Safe Haven for Donkeys in Israel soon.)

And maybe Salazer's compassion will reverse the recent horrible decision to open hunting of wolves in Idaho. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. HOWL!

LiveSTRONG and Prosper

Today is LiveSTRONG Day world-wide. Wear yellow. Donate and get a wristband.

On this date 13 years ago, cyclist Lance Armstrong was diagnosed with testicular cancer...at a time in his life he had no health insurance. His memoir, It's Not About the Bike, broke the ground on T.C. awareness.

Thanks also to my hero, Dr. Lawrence Einhorn, whose research at Indiana University invented the chemotherapy protocol in 1978 that saved Lance's life. And also my husband's last year. Dr. Einhorn makes himself available by e-mail and phone to guys needing answers and second opinions. Thank you, God.

In 1978, s dying patient begged Dr. Einhorn to use him as a guinea pig.

He's alive today.

Of the 7,600 men who will be diagnosed with T.C. this year, more than 95% will survive. But only if the disease is caught in time!

I can't deny the BEP protocol is harrowing and life-threatening in itself. But it works. Get the men in your life to check their balls. Just like our BSE's, guys gotta do TSE's.

Please?

Tanya Writes About Lefthandedness

It's one of my favorite things about myself although I clearly recall in grade two, handwriting J's like F's just as the principal came into the classroom to observe. Although heat flooded me, he didn't seem to mind a bit.

Did you know males are more likely left-handed than females? How special am I? In fact, there are twice as many left-handed boys as girls. Neither of my kids got it, though.

I share the stage with some pretty cool left-handed folks: Picasso, da Vinci, Michelangelo, Beethoven, Paul Mc Cartney, Lou Gehrig, Helen Keller, Prezzes Garfield, George H.W. Bush, Clinton and Reagan (is Obama, too?), and some other guys I like: Ben Franklin and Mark Twain.

Well, I've no politics in me, but I did major in Art in college and I do play the piano pretty well. And since the right side of a brain controls the left side of a body, this surely this means I'm in my right mind.

(Although my hero pictured with me at our daughter's recent wedding may lovingly disagree.)

Tanya Writes About The Falconer

Current read: The Lost Symbol, Dan Brown
Just finished: The Falconer, Elaine Clark McCarthy, A++ a perfect read


I'm not a reviewer or a critic, but this book really touched my heart. I guess because cancer rears its ugly head in it, and the hero puts out wildfires and it's set in California. So many things that make up my up the fabric of my life.

Thing is, I've had this book in the attic for years. It was released in the mid-90's and I don't know how it got into my hands. Maybe someone who knew my hero is a firefighter. Dunno. It's slim and spare with a beautiful cover but somehow didn't make the cut of a TBR list.

But I found it again, going up into the attic for fall decorations. It's short, almost a one-sitting read, with the lyrical prose that I love and our MTV culture usually doesn't.

But oh god she wanted him. She wanted his hands to reinvent her skin, she wanted his eyes to find here there behind her face and release her. She wanted her heart thrown into the sky; she wanted to fly. She wanted it before the dark closed in. So mucy dark and so soon.

The only trouble was, she didn't know if he could want it too. But he might. Please, whatever god may be he might.

The author claimed it only took three days to write. But she to my knowledge never wrote anything else. Sad. It's timeless and wondrous and worth your time. A keeper. A re-read. Again and again and again.

(Ps. If I used this cover image and shouldn't have, please let me know., and I'll remove it)

Tanya Writes About the USS New York

I got this in an e-mail from some fire-buddies and can't help but pass it along. We visited Ground Zero a summer ago on our first (but it won't be last!) trip to New York. Still get chills. Still get tears, thinking of the great sacrifices of 9/11.

Maybe this ship is a kind of phoenix, something rising from the ashes. Something hopeful out of the destruction on that day the world as we knew it stopped turning.

This ship was built with 24 tons of scrap steel from the World Trade Center destroyed on that horrific September day.

The fifth in a new class of warship, she's designed for missions that include special operations against terrorists. She will carry a crew of 360 sailors and 700 combat-ready Marines to be delivered ashore by helicopters and assault craft.

Steel from the World Trade Center was melted down in a foundry in Amite , LA to cast the ship's bow section. When it was poured into the molds on Sept 9, 2003, "those big rough steelworkers treated it with total reverence," recalled Navy Capt. Kevin Wensing, who was there. "It was a spiritual moment for everybody there."

Junior Chavers, foundry operations manager, said that when the trade center steel first arrived, he touched it with his hand and the "hair on my
neck stood up. It had a big meaning to it for all of us," he said. "They knocked us down. They can't keep us down. We're going to be back..."

Notice her twin towers? Her motto?

“Never forget.”

Tanya Writes About Kama Sutra

Current read: The Falconer by Elaine Clark McCarthy

Oh yum. Of course the picture isn't my hero and me. Although....mmmmm....you could photoshop our faces on there. Because I just went to a Kama Sutra party and got some pretty great stuff LOL.

You see, I live on a neat little cul de sac. We have Fourth of July block parties--this year's was a 50's theme with poodle skirts and an Elvis Impersonator, and Christmas parties where we gals go caroling after a few glasses of wine, and a bunch of us get together most Wednesdays for Zumba, Latin American aerobics. (Oh, I'm terrible at it but it does feel good.) Julie, our lithe and lovely Argentine neighbor leads us and it was her idea to hold the KS party.

What could be finer for a romance writer than a party like that? How about some oils of love with names like chocolate mint, cherry almond, and strawberries and champagne?

A stimulating pleasure balm called raspberry kiss?

Lickable body souffle creams such as chocolate creme brulee?

How about lickable honey dust body powder? Sweet honeysuckle tickle your fancy?

Aromatic massage oils called Serenity, Pleasure Garden and Soaring Spirit intrigued me for sure, but Sweet Almond won out.

And oooooh, personal lubricants like love liquid and pleasure potion had some of the gals heading for demo's in private.

Don't let me get started on the, ahem, playthings. I'll tantalize you with a couple of product names: mini-tongue and classix rabbit pearl.

I can't wait for our next trip to try out my Weekender pack. A beautiful little box of airplane-regulation size goodies.

By the way, my hero is really glad I went to the party.

Ps. I have been considering trying an erotic short story. Somehow I'm kinda in the mood...WDYT?

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.