If there's anything I like to read it's a good Western romance story. I used to like them set in the old West, but now, stories about the modern West are my preference. And no one is better at the latter than my favorite author, Jeannie Watt.
Jeannie has a new modern West novel slated for release in February 2009. It's titled A Cowboy's Redemption and already I like it. In the first place, the cover has a cowboy and a girl nuzzling and the two fit my imagined perfect partners to a tee. In my mind, the cowboy is me and the girl is the spitting image of the girl I have dreamed about for years.
And they're leaning on what looks like a beat-up old pickup truck. Men like pickups, so they'll be drawn to this book right away. And women like men who drive pickups. How's that for capturing an audience?
But that's the marketing department at Harlequin Superromance. What about the good stuff, like the plot and the characters? Secrecy is the name of the game in the publishing business. The plot of this book hasn't been revealed yet, but if Jeannie writes true to form, it's going to be filled with twists and turns with a surprise ending. She's good at keeping her readers' eyes glued to the page.
However, despite the secrecy, I've managed to dig up a hint of what's to come. The front cover of the book includes a single descriptive sentence: "He won't let her family ruin him... again." Already I'm interested and in my demented imagination, I'm trying to fill-in the blanks. But on reflection, I'll wait for the book to hit the book stores. Jeannie is very talented at surprusing her readers.
The book is available for pre-order from Amazon.com, as well as from a British outlet that I ran across by accident called Fantastic Fiction. I know that the Brits have always liked to read about the American West and they've been enthralled with the cowboy image of America in general. I'll bet Jeannie has a nice number of readers over there.
By the way, the main difference between Old West romances and Modern West romances is simple to figure out. If you've read some Old West romances, you'll notice right away that they didn't have sex in the old days. The cowboy kissed his horse and rode off into the sunset.
Doesn't work that way in 21st Century America. Men don't run around kissing pickup trucks and then burning rubber across a rolling prairie.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Okay, I've Read Cop on Loan
And also reviewed it on Amazon.com
This is a nice light mystery-romance and it would fit well on film or television, with the right actors, of course. As usual, Jeannie has just the right dialogue, and in Cop on Loan, she spiced up the story with a couple of pets with original names. I liked Ghengis Khat who belonged to Jasmine, the main female character. Originality at play here, and in her selection of a moniker to describe the Great Dane belonging to Tony, the male lead, she crafted Muttzilla.
In her choice of characters, Jeannie used the “opposites attract” equation. Jasmine Storm is an attractive librarian in small town in Washington state. Tony DeMonte is a jaded big-city cop from Seattle on loan to the local police department. Jasmine is the nice, neat personification of the stereotypical Miriam the Librarian whereas Tony is a scruffy Italian guy with curly black hair.
The two protagonists meet in a back alley behind the library as Jasmine and her boss sit in a car at night in an attempt to find out who has been breaking into the library. Tony and his partner are in the same alley on a stake-out to nab some drug dealers. The detectives mistake Jasmine and her boss for the dealers and confront them with guns drawn. The two are off to a rocky start.
Things don’t improve much when we learn that Jasmine has her own mystery to contend with. Someone has been entering her home for mysterious reasons and in the process, somehow letting out Genghis Khat. Jasmine becomes frightened and speaks to Tony about it. He’s your classic disbelieving cop, however, and doubts her story. But since he is about to be ejected from his own lodgings, he sees an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, rent Jasmine’s basement and alleviate her fears over her mysterious visitor.
Okay, no more from me. You’ll need to buy the book and read it for the unexpected resolution of both mysteries. You’ll be surprised at Jeannie’s original ending, not only her revelation of the identity(ies) of the culprit(s), but perhaps of more importance to readers of romances, the equally novel surprise ending to Jasmine’s and Tony’s love story.
This is a nice light mystery-romance and it would fit well on film or television, with the right actors, of course. As usual, Jeannie has just the right dialogue, and in Cop on Loan, she spiced up the story with a couple of pets with original names. I liked Ghengis Khat who belonged to Jasmine, the main female character. Originality at play here, and in her selection of a moniker to describe the Great Dane belonging to Tony, the male lead, she crafted Muttzilla.
In her choice of characters, Jeannie used the “opposites attract” equation. Jasmine Storm is an attractive librarian in small town in Washington state. Tony DeMonte is a jaded big-city cop from Seattle on loan to the local police department. Jasmine is the nice, neat personification of the stereotypical Miriam the Librarian whereas Tony is a scruffy Italian guy with curly black hair.
The two protagonists meet in a back alley behind the library as Jasmine and her boss sit in a car at night in an attempt to find out who has been breaking into the library. Tony and his partner are in the same alley on a stake-out to nab some drug dealers. The detectives mistake Jasmine and her boss for the dealers and confront them with guns drawn. The two are off to a rocky start.
Things don’t improve much when we learn that Jasmine has her own mystery to contend with. Someone has been entering her home for mysterious reasons and in the process, somehow letting out Genghis Khat. Jasmine becomes frightened and speaks to Tony about it. He’s your classic disbelieving cop, however, and doubts her story. But since he is about to be ejected from his own lodgings, he sees an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, rent Jasmine’s basement and alleviate her fears over her mysterious visitor.
Okay, no more from me. You’ll need to buy the book and read it for the unexpected resolution of both mysteries. You’ll be surprised at Jeannie’s original ending, not only her revelation of the identity(ies) of the culprit(s), but perhaps of more importance to readers of romances, the equally novel surprise ending to Jasmine’s and Tony’s love story.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Paul Newman, 1925-2008
Paul Newman is one of those actors we instinctively like. I use the present tense "is" because he made so many movies, one of them is bound to run on television in perpetuity.
I'm working from memory here, but I believe The Silver Chalice was his first big hit. Since then, his output has continued at a steady pace year after year.
We all have our personal favorite, but mine is Cool Hand Luke, followed closely by Hombre and then Hud. He filmed others with a one-word title beginning with "H" but I don't remember any of them. Maybe Harper was one. Hmmm,
I also liked Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Out of that one came the romantic Burt Bachrach song Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head, one of my favorites.
Paul is also well known for his variety of salad dressings, Newman's Own. My favorite is vinegar and olive oil. Just thinking about it makes me want a nice fresh salad.
Oh, and I think I'll dig through some old stuff. Somewhere around here, I have that "Raindrops" song.
Okay, keep on working in Heaven, Paul. The place could use sense of humor,
I'm working from memory here, but I believe The Silver Chalice was his first big hit. Since then, his output has continued at a steady pace year after year.
We all have our personal favorite, but mine is Cool Hand Luke, followed closely by Hombre and then Hud. He filmed others with a one-word title beginning with "H" but I don't remember any of them. Maybe Harper was one. Hmmm,
I also liked Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Out of that one came the romantic Burt Bachrach song Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head, one of my favorites.
Paul is also well known for his variety of salad dressings, Newman's Own. My favorite is vinegar and olive oil. Just thinking about it makes me want a nice fresh salad.
Oh, and I think I'll dig through some old stuff. Somewhere around here, I have that "Raindrops" song.
Okay, keep on working in Heaven, Paul. The place could use sense of humor,
Friday, September 26, 2008
The Tender Years
Isn't that a line from a song in the movie Eddie and the Cruisers? Hmmm. I don't remember exactly. But it seems like a title that fits this post.
Do you remember your favorite songs and artists from your teen years?
Boy, I'm moving back in time here, and with the state of my memory these days, my "teens" will probably include more years than just the six between ages 12 and 20. But here goes anyway.
I think my first favorite romantic ballad was That's My Desire by Frankie Laine. I don't remember many of the lyrics anymore, but if push comes to shove, I have a vinyl with the song on it stashed somewhere in a dusty storeroom.
Then the Mills Brothers caught my attention with Till Then. Those guys were smooth, and listening to them on the radio as we drove around was about as good as it gets.
Somehow, things seemed to move rapidly after that and my head is filled with artists and songs that I haven't thought about in a long time, people like Johnny Ray, Buddy Clark, Don Cornell, Georgia Gibbs, and a host of others.
Those were romantic times, but they weren't the end of romantic music. In the fifties, we listened to songs like Love is a Many Splendored Thing, The Great Pretender, Only You, Kiss of Fire, My Special Angel, Band of Gold, holy smoke, I'm running out of brain power.
To be honest, I also found a good deal of romance in the music of the Beatles, even though they came along when I was a little older (not much, though, and not too old). I still love Yesterday, not to mention I Give You All My Love.
And who could forget Patsy Cline's Crazy and Walking After Midnight. Or Roy Orbison's classics, Pretty Woman and Lonely?
I could go on and on about my own "tender years," which as you can easily tell, have extended across a couple of decades and are still going strong.
But, hey, how about yawl? You have your own memories, right? Feel free to share them with everyone. We all love romantic music.
Okay, where's my Eddie and the Cruisers soundtrack?
Do you remember your favorite songs and artists from your teen years?
Boy, I'm moving back in time here, and with the state of my memory these days, my "teens" will probably include more years than just the six between ages 12 and 20. But here goes anyway.
I think my first favorite romantic ballad was That's My Desire by Frankie Laine. I don't remember many of the lyrics anymore, but if push comes to shove, I have a vinyl with the song on it stashed somewhere in a dusty storeroom.
Then the Mills Brothers caught my attention with Till Then. Those guys were smooth, and listening to them on the radio as we drove around was about as good as it gets.
Somehow, things seemed to move rapidly after that and my head is filled with artists and songs that I haven't thought about in a long time, people like Johnny Ray, Buddy Clark, Don Cornell, Georgia Gibbs, and a host of others.
Those were romantic times, but they weren't the end of romantic music. In the fifties, we listened to songs like Love is a Many Splendored Thing, The Great Pretender, Only You, Kiss of Fire, My Special Angel, Band of Gold, holy smoke, I'm running out of brain power.
To be honest, I also found a good deal of romance in the music of the Beatles, even though they came along when I was a little older (not much, though, and not too old). I still love Yesterday, not to mention I Give You All My Love.
And who could forget Patsy Cline's Crazy and Walking After Midnight. Or Roy Orbison's classics, Pretty Woman and Lonely?
I could go on and on about my own "tender years," which as you can easily tell, have extended across a couple of decades and are still going strong.
But, hey, how about yawl? You have your own memories, right? Feel free to share them with everyone. We all love romantic music.
Okay, where's my Eddie and the Cruisers soundtrack?
Monday, September 8, 2008
Cop on Loan
That's an enigmatic title for a book, isn't it? But all will come clear when you read Jeannie Watt's latest superromance novel by that title.
You've heard me say this before, but Jeannie is one of my favorite writers and I eagerly look forward to her latest effort. I fully anticipate a top-flight read when the book is released in October 2008. I'm definitely getting my advance order in ASAP.
In the meantime, you can learn a little bit about the story from Jeannie's website and from an excerpt from the novel at eHarlequin.
Men (especially me) aren't good at summarizing the words of others. We tend to re-state in the male jargon, which sometimes alters an author's meaning. Suffice to say, then, that Cop On Loan is about a big city cop on loan to a small town police force for 30 days, where he meets a library technician under mysterious circumstances.
He rents her basement, another oddity that Jeannie makes clear later, and matters proceed from there. This is a Superromance novel which holds out the lure of a mystery, a slant sure to appeal to men. That's all I'm gonna say until I read the book.
Okey, dokey. Have a good read.
You've heard me say this before, but Jeannie is one of my favorite writers and I eagerly look forward to her latest effort. I fully anticipate a top-flight read when the book is released in October 2008. I'm definitely getting my advance order in ASAP.
In the meantime, you can learn a little bit about the story from Jeannie's website and from an excerpt from the novel at eHarlequin.
Men (especially me) aren't good at summarizing the words of others. We tend to re-state in the male jargon, which sometimes alters an author's meaning. Suffice to say, then, that Cop On Loan is about a big city cop on loan to a small town police force for 30 days, where he meets a library technician under mysterious circumstances.
He rents her basement, another oddity that Jeannie makes clear later, and matters proceed from there. This is a Superromance novel which holds out the lure of a mystery, a slant sure to appeal to men. That's all I'm gonna say until I read the book.
Okey, dokey. Have a good read.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
The Elements of Attraction
What are the characteristics of a male that females find attractive?
I'm a man but I have no idea. Occasionally, I'll get a hint when reading a novel. Authors seem very coy on the subject, probably because they don't want to reveal everything at one time. That's the way good authors work.
A few of the characteristics authors mention seem to me to be mere accidents of genetic chance, a green eye here, narrow hips there, long and muscular legs. And on more than one occasion, I've seen references to a man's "rippling muscles as he opened a jar of stubborn olives."
And then there are the sparkling white teeth against a light tan and a face of planes and angles.
All of this puzzles me because I've seen beautiful women hanging on the arms of men who deviate quite drastically from the standard. Henry Kissinger, Nixon's rather pudgy Secretary of State, is a prime example. He was often potographed with beautiful Hollywood stars hanging on his arm. He observed that power is an aphrodisiac.
My point is that women seem to be drawn to male characteristics other than physical appearance. Men are "hot" for different reasons.
That's about as far as I've gone in my research into attractiveness. I'll try to cover the characteristics of females that men find attractive. I have a hunch that physical appearance will overshadow intangible factors like kindness and consideration.
Okey, dokey. Feed me your ideas.
I'm a man but I have no idea. Occasionally, I'll get a hint when reading a novel. Authors seem very coy on the subject, probably because they don't want to reveal everything at one time. That's the way good authors work.
A few of the characteristics authors mention seem to me to be mere accidents of genetic chance, a green eye here, narrow hips there, long and muscular legs. And on more than one occasion, I've seen references to a man's "rippling muscles as he opened a jar of stubborn olives."
And then there are the sparkling white teeth against a light tan and a face of planes and angles.
All of this puzzles me because I've seen beautiful women hanging on the arms of men who deviate quite drastically from the standard. Henry Kissinger, Nixon's rather pudgy Secretary of State, is a prime example. He was often potographed with beautiful Hollywood stars hanging on his arm. He observed that power is an aphrodisiac.
My point is that women seem to be drawn to male characteristics other than physical appearance. Men are "hot" for different reasons.
That's about as far as I've gone in my research into attractiveness. I'll try to cover the characteristics of females that men find attractive. I have a hunch that physical appearance will overshadow intangible factors like kindness and consideration.
Okey, dokey. Feed me your ideas.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Romance is Where You Find it
What in the world might Sarah Palin have to do with romance? You know Sarah, right? John McCain selected her as his running mate for the upcoming presidential election.
Okay, we have the background out of the way. What's romantic about Sarah? Leave it to me to make the connection. And it's a doozey of a connection.
But first, let's eliminate some possibilities.
That means she'd make a heck of a good model.
She would especially make a top model for the covers of romance novels.
See, I told you my mind works in innovative ways. I see connections where no man or woman has gone before.
We need more originality like this in the world of romance. If we put out minds to it, we can find romantic connections in just about anything.
Well, I will admit it's kinda hard to grasp the romantic connection between a modern East Coast, upper-class, long-legged, lanky Fifth Avenue blond and a cowboy just in from the range after a day of socializing with cows and horses and their--shell we say--natural emanations and residues.
The theme of love between a cowboy and a cowgirl enused to the natural aromas of ranch life is perfectly understandable. But a snooty Park Avenue lady? Well, that bears thinking about.
Okey, dokey. Any crazy romance connections you want to share?
Okay, we have the background out of the way. What's romantic about Sarah? Leave it to me to make the connection. And it's a doozey of a connection.
But first, let's eliminate some possibilities.
- She isn't romantic because she's the Governor of Alaska.
- She isn't romantic because she's been married twenrt years and has five children.
- She isn't romantic because she played hig school basketball.
- She isn't romantic because she worked beiefly as a newscaster.
- She isn't romantic because she was Second Runner Up for Miss Alaska
- She isn't even romantic because she's a stunner.
That means she'd make a heck of a good model.
She would especially make a top model for the covers of romance novels.
See, I told you my mind works in innovative ways. I see connections where no man or woman has gone before.
We need more originality like this in the world of romance. If we put out minds to it, we can find romantic connections in just about anything.
Well, I will admit it's kinda hard to grasp the romantic connection between a modern East Coast, upper-class, long-legged, lanky Fifth Avenue blond and a cowboy just in from the range after a day of socializing with cows and horses and their--shell we say--natural emanations and residues.
The theme of love between a cowboy and a cowgirl enused to the natural aromas of ranch life is perfectly understandable. But a snooty Park Avenue lady? Well, that bears thinking about.
Okey, dokey. Any crazy romance connections you want to share?
Sunday, August 24, 2008
To Each His Own
Besides being the title of an old romantic ballad played and sung by Eddie Howard in the forties and fifties, the title as used here is a reflection on a post by Grace Scott, my partner in this blog.
A couple of posts back, she made the point that romance is in the mind of the person who defines it. Each person decides what the word "romance" means to him or her. I agree wholeheartedly with Grace and just for the heck of it, I thought I'd jot down some thoughts on the way I view romance without attempting to define it.
First, I think most people believe that women are more romantic than men. Women are supposed to be romantic by nature whereas men are thought of as pragmatic get-it-done types with little time for romantic interludes. This belief may or may not pass the holds-water test. I suggest that women are more open about their romantic feelings than men because male culture tends to dampen overt signs of romanticism. Male peer pressure is very powerful. No man wants to be thought of as weak or sissified or feminine. But that doesn't mean men lack romanticism, merely that they aren't as open about it as women. I would argue that some men are highly romantic, some are not. As Grace says, it's an individual thing.
I also have observed generational differences in perceptions of romance. For those who care to listen to the music of past generations, they may be struck by the lack of overt and blatant sexuality in the tempo and lyrics of music in the 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s. That doesn't mean sex didn't exist then, merely that it wasn't flaunted in public as it often is today. Softness seems to give rise to romantic feelings whereas much of the music and lyrics today seem focused on sex. In my judgment, there is romantic sex and then there is sex for the sake of sex. I may be wrong about that, but I perceive a good deal of sex for the sake of sex today with an added element. Many people today seem proud and unashamed of their encounters, even keeping track with Excel spreadsheets. I'm old fashioned about this, certainly, but I see no respect for the other person in these sorts of activities and certainly no romance.
My third an final observation concerns concepts of romance in different cultures. Not all societies and cultures share the American version of romance. Some cultures, like Japan, still, even in this modern era, encourage arranged marriages and discourages romantic engagements. But oddly, within this framework, romance thrives in such beliefs that gray hair is a desirable romantic commodity in a man. A man in Japan with a streak of gray hair is referred to as having "romance gray." In the Philippines, music is a predominant vehicle for the encouragement of soft romance. The music of the Philippines is largely the music of Spain and it is centered around romantic ballads. Filipinos love to dance and we all know that dancing is a sure fire enhancement of a romantic relationship.
Okay, these are my thoughts on romance. What are yours? Let us know your opinions about romance and about your own romantic stories.
A couple of posts back, she made the point that romance is in the mind of the person who defines it. Each person decides what the word "romance" means to him or her. I agree wholeheartedly with Grace and just for the heck of it, I thought I'd jot down some thoughts on the way I view romance without attempting to define it.
First, I think most people believe that women are more romantic than men. Women are supposed to be romantic by nature whereas men are thought of as pragmatic get-it-done types with little time for romantic interludes. This belief may or may not pass the holds-water test. I suggest that women are more open about their romantic feelings than men because male culture tends to dampen overt signs of romanticism. Male peer pressure is very powerful. No man wants to be thought of as weak or sissified or feminine. But that doesn't mean men lack romanticism, merely that they aren't as open about it as women. I would argue that some men are highly romantic, some are not. As Grace says, it's an individual thing.
I also have observed generational differences in perceptions of romance. For those who care to listen to the music of past generations, they may be struck by the lack of overt and blatant sexuality in the tempo and lyrics of music in the 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s. That doesn't mean sex didn't exist then, merely that it wasn't flaunted in public as it often is today. Softness seems to give rise to romantic feelings whereas much of the music and lyrics today seem focused on sex. In my judgment, there is romantic sex and then there is sex for the sake of sex. I may be wrong about that, but I perceive a good deal of sex for the sake of sex today with an added element. Many people today seem proud and unashamed of their encounters, even keeping track with Excel spreadsheets. I'm old fashioned about this, certainly, but I see no respect for the other person in these sorts of activities and certainly no romance.
My third an final observation concerns concepts of romance in different cultures. Not all societies and cultures share the American version of romance. Some cultures, like Japan, still, even in this modern era, encourage arranged marriages and discourages romantic engagements. But oddly, within this framework, romance thrives in such beliefs that gray hair is a desirable romantic commodity in a man. A man in Japan with a streak of gray hair is referred to as having "romance gray." In the Philippines, music is a predominant vehicle for the encouragement of soft romance. The music of the Philippines is largely the music of Spain and it is centered around romantic ballads. Filipinos love to dance and we all know that dancing is a sure fire enhancement of a romantic relationship.
Okay, these are my thoughts on romance. What are yours? Let us know your opinions about romance and about your own romantic stories.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
The Horseman's Secret
I've just finished reading my third Jeannie Watt romance novel, The Horseman's Secret. I said my third, not Jeannie's third. Her third was The Brother Returns, a sequel to Horseman, which I read first followed by A Difficult Woman, her first published novel. Confusing, eh? Sorry. That's just the way my mind works.
How come I didn't read the two intertwined stories in sequence? I couldn't locate The Horseman's Secret. My daughter was kind enough to scout around for me until she found one at a Barnes and Noble. She mailed it and I received it yesterday, opened the box and began reading.
I wasn't at all disappointed that I read it out of sequence. Both The Brother Returns and The Horseman's Secret are stand-alone novels. No prior knowledge of the story lines is needed for the full enjoyment of either.
However, since I already knew the horseman's secret, I took a different tack when I read the book. At first, I scanned through it, and then I decided to read it more thoroughly not for the romance between the two main characters, Regan Flynn and Will Bishop, but for the atmosphere that Jeannie Watt so eloquently and familiarly weaves into her stories.
As luck would have it, I fell in love with one of the characters despite my initial resolution. A special horse captured my attention as soon as it came into the story, a horse named Skitters, so called for its tendency to jump and buck unexpectedly. Will Bishop bought Skitters for his daughter Kylie, but soon realized that the horse wasn't suitable for her. He resolved to get rid of Skitters, but Kylie had already fallen in love with it. So here we have Will conflicted between Kylie's happiness and her safety. The ending to Skitter's story is just absolutely pluperfect. If you want to know what it is, you'll have to beg, borrow, or buy the book.
While reading for cowboy atmosphere, a couple of terms popped up in the novel that brought back some old memories. One was Bluetick, as in a hound dog used in the South largely for hunting 'coons, raccoons. I wondered what the heck Nevadans used Blueticks for. Still do. Gotta do some research on it.
The other term Jeannie used was hay flake. At first that one puzzled me. Then I shifted into image mode and tried to visualize a hay flake. Was it loose hay stirred up in the wind and drifting to Earth like snoflakes? Obviously that wasn't it because Jeannie mentioned feeding a small horse one hay flake and a larger horse two snow flakes.
Then it came to me. A hay flake is a section of a bale of hay. When the wire holding a bale together is cut, the bale spreads apart much like an accordian. Those spread-out segments are hay flakes. I'd seen them as a kid.
None of this has much if anything to do with romance to most folks, but I'm reminded that the West and cowboys occupay a special place in the mythology of America. The American West is a romanticized vision of the founding myth of America, a solid, determined, indepentent individual braving the odds to make a new life in the West.
This vision is embodied in novels and stories and movies galore. My first exposure to the romantic West was the old Saturday afternoon Western. That was followed by the novels of Zane Grey.
Now, we have authors like Jeannie Watt presenting great romances set in the modern West. I'm eagerly awaiting her Cop on Loan scheduled for release in October 2008. I don't know anything at all about the book's plot or setting, but I've spent some time speculating. We'll see how close my thoughts are to the actual story. One thing I am almost certain about. It will be set in Nevada, a very special spot with cowboys and beautiful maidens galore. If she shifts the location elsewhere, I would be greatly surprised.
Okey, dokey, good reading.
How come I didn't read the two intertwined stories in sequence? I couldn't locate The Horseman's Secret. My daughter was kind enough to scout around for me until she found one at a Barnes and Noble. She mailed it and I received it yesterday, opened the box and began reading.
I wasn't at all disappointed that I read it out of sequence. Both The Brother Returns and The Horseman's Secret are stand-alone novels. No prior knowledge of the story lines is needed for the full enjoyment of either.
However, since I already knew the horseman's secret, I took a different tack when I read the book. At first, I scanned through it, and then I decided to read it more thoroughly not for the romance between the two main characters, Regan Flynn and Will Bishop, but for the atmosphere that Jeannie Watt so eloquently and familiarly weaves into her stories.
As luck would have it, I fell in love with one of the characters despite my initial resolution. A special horse captured my attention as soon as it came into the story, a horse named Skitters, so called for its tendency to jump and buck unexpectedly. Will Bishop bought Skitters for his daughter Kylie, but soon realized that the horse wasn't suitable for her. He resolved to get rid of Skitters, but Kylie had already fallen in love with it. So here we have Will conflicted between Kylie's happiness and her safety. The ending to Skitter's story is just absolutely pluperfect. If you want to know what it is, you'll have to beg, borrow, or buy the book.
While reading for cowboy atmosphere, a couple of terms popped up in the novel that brought back some old memories. One was Bluetick, as in a hound dog used in the South largely for hunting 'coons, raccoons. I wondered what the heck Nevadans used Blueticks for. Still do. Gotta do some research on it.
The other term Jeannie used was hay flake. At first that one puzzled me. Then I shifted into image mode and tried to visualize a hay flake. Was it loose hay stirred up in the wind and drifting to Earth like snoflakes? Obviously that wasn't it because Jeannie mentioned feeding a small horse one hay flake and a larger horse two snow flakes.
Then it came to me. A hay flake is a section of a bale of hay. When the wire holding a bale together is cut, the bale spreads apart much like an accordian. Those spread-out segments are hay flakes. I'd seen them as a kid.
None of this has much if anything to do with romance to most folks, but I'm reminded that the West and cowboys occupay a special place in the mythology of America. The American West is a romanticized vision of the founding myth of America, a solid, determined, indepentent individual braving the odds to make a new life in the West.
This vision is embodied in novels and stories and movies galore. My first exposure to the romantic West was the old Saturday afternoon Western. That was followed by the novels of Zane Grey.
Now, we have authors like Jeannie Watt presenting great romances set in the modern West. I'm eagerly awaiting her Cop on Loan scheduled for release in October 2008. I don't know anything at all about the book's plot or setting, but I've spent some time speculating. We'll see how close my thoughts are to the actual story. One thing I am almost certain about. It will be set in Nevada, a very special spot with cowboys and beautiful maidens galore. If she shifts the location elsewhere, I would be greatly surprised.
Okey, dokey, good reading.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
A Feminine Point of View
I'm not sure what "romance" is. I know what I like, and I know what I like to read, but that's just me. I'll let Robert expound on the manly point of view. As for me, it all depends on my mood. Sometimes I like the sweet, old-fashioned notion of romance: a man opening doors for a lady, or perhaps placing himself in the outside position when going for a walk--to keep a lady safe from the dangers of veering cars, for example.
On the other hand, I also find it very romantic if the gentleman scrubs the toilets or does the dishes or gives the kids a bath, thus allowing the lady (that would be me, in this case) to put up her feet and relax a bit. Didn't you know we like that kind of thing, guys? Try it sometime and see what happens.
Having said all that, that doesn't mean I want to read about it. Yes, yes, it's occasionally nice to read about ordinary men and women and the ordinary (but somehow unusual, of course) circumstances under which they meet, but let's face it: I'm an ordinary person living an ordinary life, so why do I want to spend too much of my time reading about that? On the contrary, it's all about escapism for me. So, yes, I like to read about the woman who finds herself in a time portal, catapulted back to Scotland in 1475, where she stumbles upon a fierce, handsome (of course) clansman with good teeth (hey, it's called suspending one's disbelief). Or the frazzled modern woman who encounters a rakish medieval ghost during her trip to Scotland (what is it about Scotland and romance, anyway?) and somehow falls in love with this specter, even though he can't actually touch her. The more unbelievable, the better! Of course, it all depends on how realistic (if that's possible, I guess) the author can make it. Sherrilyn Kenyon has a way of making this supernatural stuff fun (okay, she sets her stories in New Orleans for the most part, but her alter ego, Kinley MacGregor, does the Scotland thing), as does Lynn Kurland, but it's been a while since I've read any of their stuff--I'm far too busy, dontcha know.
What do YOU like?
On the other hand, I also find it very romantic if the gentleman scrubs the toilets or does the dishes or gives the kids a bath, thus allowing the lady (that would be me, in this case) to put up her feet and relax a bit. Didn't you know we like that kind of thing, guys? Try it sometime and see what happens.
Having said all that, that doesn't mean I want to read about it. Yes, yes, it's occasionally nice to read about ordinary men and women and the ordinary (but somehow unusual, of course) circumstances under which they meet, but let's face it: I'm an ordinary person living an ordinary life, so why do I want to spend too much of my time reading about that? On the contrary, it's all about escapism for me. So, yes, I like to read about the woman who finds herself in a time portal, catapulted back to Scotland in 1475, where she stumbles upon a fierce, handsome (of course) clansman with good teeth (hey, it's called suspending one's disbelief). Or the frazzled modern woman who encounters a rakish medieval ghost during her trip to Scotland (what is it about Scotland and romance, anyway?) and somehow falls in love with this specter, even though he can't actually touch her. The more unbelievable, the better! Of course, it all depends on how realistic (if that's possible, I guess) the author can make it. Sherrilyn Kenyon has a way of making this supernatural stuff fun (okay, she sets her stories in New Orleans for the most part, but her alter ego, Kinley MacGregor, does the Scotland thing), as does Lynn Kurland, but it's been a while since I've read any of their stuff--I'm far too busy, dontcha know.
What do YOU like?
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Romantic Inclinations
My mother had a romantic streak a mile wide. She used to read romance stories and listen to romantic music on the radio everyday. She also went to the movies as often as she could.
In those days, the drugstores sold romance magazines. I don't remember all of her favorite titles, but I recall Ranch Romances.
As a Southerner, her favorite songs were often, but not always, the songs she heard on the Grand Ole Opry and on other radio shows of her youth. I remember The One Rose That's Left in My Heart and Mexicali Rose. After we moved to California, she became a fan of Glen Miller and especially liked his Moonlight Serenade.
One of her favorite songs was Faded Love played by Bob Wills and his string band Texas Playboys. Patsy Cline later recorded it and then Johnny Rodriguez. I personally like Patsy's version.
Somehow, my mother loved the movies of Gene Autry. I recall that she would take me with her and we'd sit in the back row. The only movie of his that I remember from that time was some sort of surreal science fiction story about Gene traveling to another planet. Odd.
I actually never liked Gene Autry until I was much older. I considered singing cowboys sissies. Give me Johnny Mack Brown anytime. But oddly, his movies often included songs that I call Western Music to distinguish it from Country Music.
Western Music in my mind is a mixture of songs about cowboys and pop songs that found their way into the pop charts. Cowboy songs include tunes like Back in the Saddle Again and Cool Water. This was a Sons of the Pioneers version and very listenable.
One of Gene's songs that made it to the pop charts was his rendition of Blueberry Hill. This tune later became a rock and roll favorite by Fats Domino.
My mother continued to listen to this kind of music all of her life, and I've continued her listening habits. I have much of the music she loved on tapes and discs and I listen to them when the mood strikes me.
I hope that one of my daughters picks up on my musical tastes. Music is a generational glue, one of the means we have of passing along an authentic bit of American culture.
Friday, July 25, 2008
My Favorite Romance Author
...happens to be Jeannie Watt.
I have an unfortunate habit of raving about the things I like. And this novelist is a newly-discovered delight.
I stumbled across her purely by accident one day while passing a bookrack in a supermarket. I'd been looking for a Western novel and my eye happened to fall on the nicely illustrated front cover of a book sitting askew in the bottom shelf, partially obscured by another book. All I could see was a cowboy and some ranch buildings, so I grabbed the book and ran.
At home, I noticed that it was a Harlequin romance novel and I put it aside, thinking perhaps I'd send it to my daughter since I never read romance novels. It just isn't manly. Or so I thought.
Later that day in a moment of inactivity, I leafed through the book and couldn't put it down. The title of the novel was The Brother Returns and the author was Jeannie Watt.
Later, I did a little research for other novels she'd written and found A Difficult Woman, which I promptly ordered from Amazon.com. This one was better yet, so good that I wrote a review on Amazon, followed recently with an as yet unpublished review for Barnes and Nobel. Writing reviews is something else I never do.
Now, I'm scouting around for The Horseman's Secret, a book that gave birth to a sequel about a brother who returns. Fortunately, my daughter has ordered one for me, which if all goes well, should arrive in a week or so.
In the meantime, I eagerly await Jeannie's newest novel, Cop on Loan, scheduled for release in October 2008. I have no idea of the plot of this story, but the title intrigues me.
Later this month, you might catch Jeannie at the Romance Writers of America annual national conference, to be held in San Francisco at the Marriott, July 30-August 2, 2008.
So, what is it about her writing that I particularly like? For one thing, she writes about ordinary people. They live ordinary lives much like the lives of the rest of us. Until love strikes. But even then we can relate to their angst.
And her characters are superbly drawn. She rounds out not only the protagonists but the supporting cast as well. In A Difficult Woman, she drew my personal attention by skillfully weaving an older man, Luke, into the story so completely that I immediately recognized him as someone out of my own youth.
My Mom and Dad had an older friend much like Luke. This friend was a bartender at, surprise, surprise, a place in California called the Owl Club. Coincidentally, the Owl Club is the name of a casino in Jeannie's story and the central location for much of the action in A Difficult Woman. Not the same Owl Club of my youth, of course, but close enough to fire my dormant imagination.
Jeannie's dialogue, especially the male dialogue, also drew my attention. If you didn't know better, you'd think that Jeannie Watt is a male author using a female pen name. But no, Jeannie is a woman, a school teacher, married, with two grown children.
Above and behind her startling technique and writing skills, however, I respect her hard word and tenacity. Here is a person who has persevered. Among other things, she's taught school, raised children, worked a ranch, and goodness knows what else, all the while following her dream of becoming a writer. Her life story reads like a novel in and of itself.
Okay, I've raved long enough. I've been criticized in the past for pouring it on too thickly, but as I mentioned earlier, it's one of my many character defects. The possibility that I might change is rather remote.
We like what we like. What else can I say?
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Poetry is in My Soul
Well...sometimes. The poetry I like must be short, simple, and without underlying mysteries.
I am not a person who likes to labor when I read something. Of course, I violate my personal preference with Robert Frost. But then again thinking about Frost's The Road Not Taken or Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening isn't work at all. It's a tantalizing memory trip filled with pleasantries or regrets as we chose.
A beautiful poem the teacher made us memorize in the Sixth grade is Trees by Joyce Kilmer. I wasn't alive when Kilmer composed his classic, but classics live a long time and occasionally I still run the poem's words through my mind.
This one isn't a poem but a song composed by a Russian guy named Israel Isidore Beilin. It's called God Bless America, another one drilled into my developing brain by a school teacher. Funny how the sounds of youth can make us goose pimply. This one sung by Kate Smith will do that to me.
With me, liking isn't about analyzing something and saying, "Ah, I like this because the iambs are so perfect." My personal sense of liking is just a gut feeling, a sort of almost-instantaneous pleasant experience which causes me to say, "Hey, I like that," without further deconstruction.
The way I view life, poetry is kind of like music. Sounds touch our soul. Words well expressed can have the same effect. Like this:
I've got the bottle-blond blues
blue as I can be
That bottle-blond babe's
gonna be the death of me.
Now, that's what I call poetic.
Just kidding.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
A Kiss is Just a Kiss
Remember these lyrics from the 1942 movie Casablanca?
I saw the movie recently on HBO or some other movie rerun channel and listened once again to one of my favorite romantic melodies.
But this time around, I thought about the lyrics from another angle. It dawned on me that a kiss isn't just a kiss.
Every kiss is unique. There are kisses that presage passionate sex, deep and demanding.
There are duty kisses, you know the ones I'm talking about, the kiss at the door after a date you didn't want to go on anyway.
There are tentative kisses, exploratory, halting, interrupted as you fall back and ask, "Is that what kissing is all about? Hmmm. Not bad."
And then, there is the kiss of love and romance. Here is a passage from a story describing the sweetest kiss of all. Let me set the scene.
Cowboys and cowgirls are gathered around a Dutch oven near a trailer parked on the grounds of a rodeo. All of them are rodeo participant except the main character, Roy Magothy, a friendly deputy sheriff who has decided to tutor the rough bill riders on romance.
Another one says, “This is a public place, Dave. Roy’s too polite for that.”
Everyone laughs except Argie. She knows her face is warm and red.
Roy says, “Well, now, boys, and you young ladies, too, a decent Arizona boy doesn’t just crudely grab a girl. At least not in the presence of the young lady’s mother.” He nods politely to Argie’s mother.
“Give us the benefit of your sophisticated experience, Roy,” Jake says.
“Tell us about it, Roy,” a bull rider says through muffled laughs.
Looking at Argie’s mother again, Roy says, “With your permission, Ma’am, I’ll instruct these untutored boys in the ways of true love. If I offend or embarrass you, I apologize in advance so that I can continue without interruption until my lesson is complete.”
“Go ahead, deputy, I’ve heard them all, but I’d like to hear yours, too.”
Roy smiles at the older woman. “First of all, ma’am, I don’t want to slander these fine but misguided Arizona boys. I’ve known most of these uncivilized and untutored riders all of my life. They’re merely rough and uncouth. The only thing they’ve ever kissed is a horse. I’ve even arrested a couple for sheer foolishness, but they were so pathetic, I let them go. They are good boys suitable for marriage under most circumstances, but they need guidance.”
“Well, get on with it, Roy,” Jake says. Maybe I’ll learn something myself."
Roy begins slowly. “First of all, boys, and you maidens, too, true Arizona romance is about anticipation. When that first kiss happens, it has to be the most natural and gentle kiss in the world. Remember, a kiss of real love isn’t a lip-grinding exercise. It isn’t a race to see if you can reach your partner’s tonsils first.”
Jake collapses in uncontrollable laughter. “Where have I heard this?”
Roy goes on. “A true-love kiss is silent and very soft, a gentle touch. Remember the old Arizona adage that I am making up as I go along: A kiss is in the lips, the pleasure of a kiss is in the brain.”
One of the girls pretends to swoon. “You tell them, deputy.”
Roy smiles. His voice becomes softer. “Think of a kiss like this. Imagine a single rose petal falling softly across your lips, so softly that at first you don’t even know it’s there.”
A bronc rider rubs his lip with a rope-roughened finger. “Yeah, I can feel it now.”
Roy continues with a voice filled with barely-controlled passion. “Deep in your brain, where emotions reside, feel the weightlessness of the rose petal. Now hold that sensation. Soon, the petal becomes warm then hot, like fire. But it doesn’t burn. It is so exquisitely beautiful that you can’t describe it.”
Roy pauses.
“That’s so heartfelt, deputy,” a girl sighs.
“But that isn’t the end. It’s only the beginning. Soon, you begin to phase out everything. Lights dim, sound becomes muted. Suddenly, the world around you is black and silent. Nothing exists but you and the rose petal. You’re in a trance, no sensation but the rose on your lips.” Roy looks at the sky as if in a dreamy trance.
“Look at me,” a cowboy hollers rolling his eyes. “I’m numb.”
“Still,” Roy says, “The kiss continues. Think about remaining in that trance forever. Nothing exists but your lips and your partner’s lips, touching like the touch of a rose petal. Imagine the taste of that rose petal. It is exquisite, like nothing else on earth.”
Roy glances around. The girls look at him with rapt attention waiting for him to continue. Even the cowboys seem subdued.
Argie’s face is a flaming red. His words have caught her off guard. Where did this ignoramus find such emotion?
Roy looks at the older woman and smiles. She has a mischievous grin and humor in her eyes.
She says, “God, deputy, where did you get the poetry in your soul?”
“I read it in a Superman comic Jake gave me, Ma’am, when I was ten years old.”
Remember this. A kiss isn't just a kiss. Each kiss is unique. You recall the most exquisite kiss of your life, don't you? Relive that kiss and I believe you will agree with me.
You must remember this
A kiss is just a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh.
The fundamental things apply
As time goes by.
A kiss is just a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh.
The fundamental things apply
As time goes by.
I saw the movie recently on HBO or some other movie rerun channel and listened once again to one of my favorite romantic melodies.
But this time around, I thought about the lyrics from another angle. It dawned on me that a kiss isn't just a kiss.
Every kiss is unique. There are kisses that presage passionate sex, deep and demanding.
There are duty kisses, you know the ones I'm talking about, the kiss at the door after a date you didn't want to go on anyway.
There are tentative kisses, exploratory, halting, interrupted as you fall back and ask, "Is that what kissing is all about? Hmmm. Not bad."
And then, there is the kiss of love and romance. Here is a passage from a story describing the sweetest kiss of all. Let me set the scene.
Cowboys and cowgirls are gathered around a Dutch oven near a trailer parked on the grounds of a rodeo. All of them are rodeo participant except the main character, Roy Magothy, a friendly deputy sheriff who has decided to tutor the rough bill riders on romance.
***
One of the cowboys says, “Well, kiss the girl, Roy. That’s the only reason you’re here.”Another one says, “This is a public place, Dave. Roy’s too polite for that.”
Everyone laughs except Argie. She knows her face is warm and red.
Roy says, “Well, now, boys, and you young ladies, too, a decent Arizona boy doesn’t just crudely grab a girl. At least not in the presence of the young lady’s mother.” He nods politely to Argie’s mother.
“Give us the benefit of your sophisticated experience, Roy,” Jake says.
“Tell us about it, Roy,” a bull rider says through muffled laughs.
Looking at Argie’s mother again, Roy says, “With your permission, Ma’am, I’ll instruct these untutored boys in the ways of true love. If I offend or embarrass you, I apologize in advance so that I can continue without interruption until my lesson is complete.”
“Go ahead, deputy, I’ve heard them all, but I’d like to hear yours, too.”
Roy smiles at the older woman. “First of all, ma’am, I don’t want to slander these fine but misguided Arizona boys. I’ve known most of these uncivilized and untutored riders all of my life. They’re merely rough and uncouth. The only thing they’ve ever kissed is a horse. I’ve even arrested a couple for sheer foolishness, but they were so pathetic, I let them go. They are good boys suitable for marriage under most circumstances, but they need guidance.”
“Well, get on with it, Roy,” Jake says. Maybe I’ll learn something myself."
Roy begins slowly. “First of all, boys, and you maidens, too, true Arizona romance is about anticipation. When that first kiss happens, it has to be the most natural and gentle kiss in the world. Remember, a kiss of real love isn’t a lip-grinding exercise. It isn’t a race to see if you can reach your partner’s tonsils first.”
Jake collapses in uncontrollable laughter. “Where have I heard this?”
Roy goes on. “A true-love kiss is silent and very soft, a gentle touch. Remember the old Arizona adage that I am making up as I go along: A kiss is in the lips, the pleasure of a kiss is in the brain.”
One of the girls pretends to swoon. “You tell them, deputy.”
Roy smiles. His voice becomes softer. “Think of a kiss like this. Imagine a single rose petal falling softly across your lips, so softly that at first you don’t even know it’s there.”
A bronc rider rubs his lip with a rope-roughened finger. “Yeah, I can feel it now.”
Roy continues with a voice filled with barely-controlled passion. “Deep in your brain, where emotions reside, feel the weightlessness of the rose petal. Now hold that sensation. Soon, the petal becomes warm then hot, like fire. But it doesn’t burn. It is so exquisitely beautiful that you can’t describe it.”
Roy pauses.
“That’s so heartfelt, deputy,” a girl sighs.
“But that isn’t the end. It’s only the beginning. Soon, you begin to phase out everything. Lights dim, sound becomes muted. Suddenly, the world around you is black and silent. Nothing exists but you and the rose petal. You’re in a trance, no sensation but the rose on your lips.” Roy looks at the sky as if in a dreamy trance.
“Look at me,” a cowboy hollers rolling his eyes. “I’m numb.”
“Still,” Roy says, “The kiss continues. Think about remaining in that trance forever. Nothing exists but your lips and your partner’s lips, touching like the touch of a rose petal. Imagine the taste of that rose petal. It is exquisite, like nothing else on earth.”
Roy glances around. The girls look at him with rapt attention waiting for him to continue. Even the cowboys seem subdued.
Argie’s face is a flaming red. His words have caught her off guard. Where did this ignoramus find such emotion?
Roy looks at the older woman and smiles. She has a mischievous grin and humor in her eyes.
She says, “God, deputy, where did you get the poetry in your soul?”
“I read it in a Superman comic Jake gave me, Ma’am, when I was ten years old.”
***
Remember this. A kiss isn't just a kiss. Each kiss is unique. You recall the most exquisite kiss of your life, don't you? Relive that kiss and I believe you will agree with me.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Romance Novels
I don't ordinarily read romance novels, preferring instead a good Western. However, put together a modern Western with romance in it, and I might be able to get into it.
That's what happened with a couple of novels by Jeannie Watt. I read her "The Brother Returns" followed by "A Difficult Woman." I stumbled across them by accident at a super market book rack. I was enthralled by her writing, character development, and dialogue. I'll just sum it all by by saying, "Man, she's a gooood novelist.
Another favorite author is Nicholas Sparks. His novels aren't strictly romance. Some are romances wrapped in a mystery, and those are the one I like. I've just finished "A Bend in the Road." Before that, I had read "True Believer" followed by its sequel "Love at First Sight," two top-notch novels.
These two fiction authors are the first I have read in more years than I can recall without giving away my real age, which isn't as high on the scale as most think but certainly high enough to provide me with the wisdom to avoid adolescent impulses.
If you haven't already read these authors, try them. You may like them.
That's what happened with a couple of novels by Jeannie Watt. I read her "The Brother Returns" followed by "A Difficult Woman." I stumbled across them by accident at a super market book rack. I was enthralled by her writing, character development, and dialogue. I'll just sum it all by by saying, "Man, she's a gooood novelist.
Another favorite author is Nicholas Sparks. His novels aren't strictly romance. Some are romances wrapped in a mystery, and those are the one I like. I've just finished "A Bend in the Road." Before that, I had read "True Believer" followed by its sequel "Love at First Sight," two top-notch novels.
These two fiction authors are the first I have read in more years than I can recall without giving away my real age, which isn't as high on the scale as most think but certainly high enough to provide me with the wisdom to avoid adolescent impulses.
If you haven't already read these authors, try them. You may like them.
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