Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Wednesday Guest- Heidi Thomas
Heidi Thomas is a longtime writer, a journalist and a pre-published novelist. She loves everything about books and writing. So much, in fact, that she shares what knowledge and experience she has gleaned through the years. So, in addition to writing for herself, she edits manuscripts for others and teaches classes in Memoir and Beginning Fiction Writing.
She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest, with a wonderful and supportive husband and two pesky cats. She belongs to the Skagit Valley Writers League, Women Writing the West and Northwest Independent Editors Guild.
her latest release is Follow the Dream, the sequel to Cowgirl Dreams
Nettie marries, yet faces challenges to her lifelong rodeo dreams. She must cope with personal tragedy, survive drought, and help Jake keep their horse herd from disaster. Will these challenges break this strong woman? As with Cowgirl Dreams, this story is based on the life of the author’s grandmother, a real Montana cowgirl.
Nettie Moser’s dreams are coming true. She’s married to her cowboy, Jake, they have plans for a busy rodeo season, and she has a once in a lifetime opportunity to rodeo in London with the Tex Austin Wild West Troupe.
But life during the Great Depression brings unrelenting hardships and unexpected family responsibilities. Always looking for a better life, they move often, from one ranch to another, one job after another. In 1931, in the midst of a severe drought, Jake and Nettie undertake trailing their herd of 50 horses 350 miles from Sunburst, Montana over two mountain ranges to Salmon, Idaho, to find grass.
Nettie must overcome challenges to her lifelong rodeo dreams, cope with personal tragedy, survive drought, and help Jake keep their horse herd from disaster.
Will these challenges break this strong woman?
This sequel to Cowgirl Dreams is based on the life of the author’s grandmother, a real Montana cowgirl.
CHAPTER ONE EXCERPT
March 2, 1924
Mrs. Jake Moser.
Nettie drew a heart around "Jake" and doodled flowers in the margin of the first entry in her new journal.
I’m married to my cowboy and we’re going to rodeo together. Rodeo. My dream is coming true.
Nettie brushed the dust from her shiny black boots, stretched her shoulders in the unusually warm early spring sunshine, and breathed in the familiar animal sweat aroma. I’ll ride this steer, show Mama how good I am. She could already hear the crowd’s cheers in her head and saw herself accepting a Top Cowgirl trophy. I will be a star, maybe even the next Marie Gibson.
She turned to Jake. “Well, Mr. Moser, how about giving your bride a hand?”
Jake grinned. “Well, Mrs. Moser, I’d be delighted.” He helped Nettie steady herself as she climbed down from the top of the chute onto the bare back of the big red steer. She snugged her hand under the surcingle rope, feeling the animal’s muscles tense beneath her as it kicked against the fence.
Jake squeezed her shoulder. “Ready?”
Nettie took a deep breath. She tightened her knees and nodded. Here you go, Mrs. Moser. She almost giggled. Funny how she still couldn’t get used to her new name even after three months.
The steer crashed through the gate, bellowing a protest at its burden. Nettie leaned back as the big animal kicked its hind legs toward the sky. Gotta find the rhythm. The steer twisted and leapt. Nettie’s body snapped forward and back and flopped side to side. Every jump jolted her from her tailbone to her teeth. She fought to gain her seat on the back of this nearly half-ton of muscle and bone, hearing yells from the Model Ts parked around the corral. Where is my rhythm? The arena whirled around her. Choking dust rose from the ground.
Nettie opened her eyes and saw nothing but blue sky.
Jake leaned over her. “Honey, talk to me. You all right?”
She blinked, wiggled her toes, clenched and unclenched her fingers. “Uh, yeah. How’d I get here?”
Jake smoothed hair back from her face. “Well, little gal, I’m sorry to say, you got bucked off.”
“Oh, fiddlesticks.” Nettie let out an exasperated sigh. She accepted a hand up, dusted herself off, and retrieved her hat. Why did she have to fail today, of all days, when her mother was here watching? Nettie gave herself a mental slap. I was daydreaming. I wasn’t focused on the ride. She tried not to limp as she exited the corral, rubbing her bruised hip and bemoaning her bruised ego.
Buy Link: Treble Heart Books