So Linda, why Westerns?
Riding Off Into the Sunset
To be asked why I write westerns (contemporary westerns) is like
someone asking me why I breath. To me there isn't much that can compare to the
American West. It is the one true vision of absolute freedom in human history.
Wide open spaces, self-reliance, determination, no fences - that is my imagined
west.
While it wasn't all riding a horse, roping cattle and singing around
the campfire, it was and is an enticing lifestyle for me. Although I don't live
on a ranch (I have a small farm), I enjoy the smell of hay being cut, the sound
of coyotes off in the distance, the sound of rain on the tin roof of a barn,
and even feeding the critters on a sub-zero January morning.
Westerns bring out romance in all its best forms. They give us the
tough hero with a gentle soul, a heroine that is strong and still feminine, and
solid values. The epitomize small town America with neighbors and friends you
can count on, and the ingenuity to make things out of nothing.
My heart will always be in the west. Born from hours listening to my
mom read from the novels of Zane Grey, Louis L'amour, and Max Brand. I may
never have that ranch in the Rockies, but my characters let me spend a lot of
time there with them, and as long as they keep inviting me, I'll keep hanging
out on the ranch with them.
Excerpt: "Please, call me Mike." The
ranch foreman smiled, starting the engine. Making a hard u-turn, the truck slid across the pavement.
Abby fastened her seatbelt and
grabbed the handle above the window.
The truck fishtailed across the ice,
but Mike didn’t slow down. "I hope you don't plan on going shopping very
often." He turned the wipers on. They screeched painfully across the
glass. "It's a fair piece to the nearest store. We plan far in advance for
shopping trips, so you'll want to keep a list for pantry purchases."
They pulled off the main road onto a
gravel road. He made several more turns onto smaller and smaller gravel roads,
until they reached a rutted, one-lane dirt road. Suddenly the dirt road gave
way to a smooth blacktop drive that wound around snow-covered banks, atop which
a red snow fence ran as far as the eye could see.
"I think I'm going to have to
drop breadcrumbs to find my way in and out of here." Abby couldn't
remember ever having been so far from civilization. "Tell me, do you ever
get snowed in back here?" As far as she could see in every direction was
nothing, absolutely nothing, except hills, snow fence, trees, snow, and huge
mountains.
"Occasionally we've been snowed
in for a few days. We've got snowmobiles and we can get out for supplies with
them."
A lump formed in her throat that
refused to be swallowed.
"We've also got the Cat and the
Deere with plows and shovels."
Abby had no clue what he was talking
about, but as long as those things could get her out of this desolate wilderness,
she liked them.
"Nobody's lived at the cottage
for awhile. I had the boys go in, knock down the spider webs, and make sure no
snakes or anything was living inside, but they don't always get everything. You
aren't afraid of spiders and such, are you?"
The lump on her head began to ache.
Mike's expression was kind, but odds were she was about to face those things,
afraid or not. "I can't say I care too much for them."
"Well, snakes are hibernating
this time of year. But they can move about when you start disturbing them. I'll
have the boys leave you a hoe just to be safe." The truck slid across the
blacktop road. Mike chuckled. "That was fun."
Abby pushed a hand against the
dashboard, her mouth becoming suddenly dry. "A hoe? What do I need a hoe
for?"
"For hacking the snakes' heads
off, honey." Mike was matter-of-fact.
"Hack its head off?" The
ache in her head turned to throbbing and was joined by a rumbling nausea deep
in her stomach. "Couldn't I just call you or one of the men to come
and--" she shuddered-- "hack the thing?"
"Sure, but we're usually out in
the field or up at one of the cattle barns. It could be awhile before one of us
could get it for you. By then it could disappear under the floor only to pop
back out in the middle of the night and snuggle up with you in bed."
"They're cold-blooded, you know,
and they like to find a warm spot to sleep. So it would be best if you just
hack them when you see them."
Her
head swam. Her vision turned gray and began sliding into black. She had gone
from a bad dream to a horrific nightmare. Abby pinched her thigh, wincing at
the pain. Awake. She was awake. The nightmare was real.
Future Releases by Linda McMaken at Desert Breeze Publishing
The Three Baers Book Two: Baer Necessities - October 2012
T
he Three Baers Book Three: Baer Facts - February 2013
www.linda-mcmaken.com
www.makenwords.blogspot.com