Welcome to Western Romance!

Why I Write the West

The first Western Romance novel I read was “This Calder Range” by Janet Dailey. Before that, my adult reading material came in groups. One genre kept me busy for months or years, until I moved on to another. I first read Science Fiction, dozens over a period of a year or so. But I cannot remember one author or one title. The plots and otherworldly creatures fascinated me at the time, but I soon selected something else. So many books—so little time! I began Willa Cather’s books, and when I’d finished all those, I selected a new kind of novel I’d not seen—women’s fiction. Maeve Binchy, Rosamund Pilcher, Belva Plain. Each author received my undivided attention until I’d read all I could find. Next, westerns. Plain old shoot-’em-ups, stories depicting cattle drives, rustlers, outlaws, and lawmen. Oh, I loved these novels, and Louis L’Amour became my favorite because he often had a little love story in there.

Romance? Didn’t read it. None, zip, nada. Too trite, I’d heard—the novels always ended the same way—happily-ever-after. Same plot, boy meets girl, they fall in love, have a falling-out, make-up, get married. “What’s wrong with that?” I asked a cynical friend.

Then, one day in 1990, I visited a used-book store and bought a paperback by Janet Dailey titled

This Calder Range.

 I couldn’t put it down. Remember, I love Westerns, and this even had a HEA. I fell in love. I searched the used-book stores and eventually the library until I’d found and read all ten in the Calder series. Her latest, I believe, was released a couple of years ago.

 From there, I discovered LaVyrle Spencer, a master of romance writing.

 and

Maggie Osborne

—plus many more. I still search for new authors who write exciting, satisfying Western Romance.

In 2004, I sat down and began to write a story. And yes, it was a Western romance—a historical. Probably I’ll never be in the same category with my favorite authors, but each one has been an inspiration and a benchmark for me.

Why do I write the West? I find it difficult to put into words.

 The Last Frontier, perhaps? That’s the name for space exploration and Star Wars.

Romance in Sweeping Vistas with a love story set in a different time, perhaps? That’s how we describe novels set in early Scotland.

The Era of the Strong, Silent type who always gets the girl while he brings justice in full measure, perhaps? That’s how we describe Indiana Jones adventures.

See? I cannot exactly describe my feeling when I begin a new Western Historical novel, either reading one or writing one. Oh! Now I know Why I Write the West! It’s like falling in love.

Celia Yeary-Romance...and a little bit 'o Texas

http://www.celiayeary.blogspot.com/

http://www.celiayeary.com/

New Releases

Texas Promise-eBook-Desert Breeze Publishing

Making the Turn-print & eBook-Wings ePress

Note to Myself, via My Horoscope

“You might be experiencing the sensation of wandering around in a daze, with your feet planted on solid ground, but your head in the clouds.”

So, that’s my problem!

I’ve been in a daze for weeks, now, or so I’ve thought. But what does “daze” mean?

Daze: to become weary, lazy, tired; to stupefy, stun, or bewilder.

Not exactly complimentary, but truthfully, much of this describes how I feel and how I’ve been acting. For the life of me, I cannot figure out my problem. Maybe I have a physical condition of some sort, but no…I don’t think so. I have no pain, I sleep very well, I certainly haven’t lost weight, because I have not experienced a sudden loss of appetite.

The feeling must be connected to something, though, and until I figure out why I’m out of sorts, i.e., in a daze, who knows how long it might continue? If it does continue, I’ll never finish any of the three WIPs that are staring me in the face; I’ll not get through two months of promotion before I leave town for two weeks; and I’ll never write all those blogs that are on my calendar.

In the midst of whining in this blog, I stopped to make a dozen banana nut muffins and ten sausage biscuits for the freezer for my husband’s breakfasts. During that time, the house was quiet, the only sound being the sizzling of sausage patties in a cast-iron skillet, the breaking of one egg into a bowl, the clink and clank of a spoon against an aluminum mixing bowl, and the ‘shhhhh’ of vegetable spray into muffin cups.

These comforting sounds allowed my mind to wander wherever it wanted, and I think I’ve discovered something.

At first, I thought I needed something new, but that’s not exactly it. Here it is: I’m suffering from The Empty Nest Syndrome.

Since late spring, I have worked very hard to find homes for my manuscripts. The effort paid off, because every one of them—except one yet to be determined—now is under contract or already released.

I’m lonely. That’s my problem. All my babies are gone, and while I reared them to maturity so they could live independently from me, I miss them.

So, I need to get busy and finish one of my WIPs or begin a new story. Then I can have that feeling of anticipation of finding a good home for it.

Excuse me, please. I have work to do.

Celia Yeary-Romance...and a little bit 'o Texas

http://www.celiayeary.blogspot.com/

http://www.celiayeary.com/

New Releases

Texas Promise-eBook-Desert Breeze Publishing

Making the Turn-print & eBook-Wings ePress

 

MAKING THE TURN-new release!

I'm pleased to announce my first novel in the category of Women's fiction. While it does have a light romance--what's a good story without a little romance?--the story centers on the lives of three generations of women living together for the summer--and not by choice. Throw in a widower and his young son who have their own problems, and the plot becomes busy and a little complicated. Oh, and of course! The story setting is small-town Texas.

BLURB:

Starting over at age thirty-nine is no picnic under any circumstances, but the task is daunting for Sara Daniels. Living an affluent lifestyle her entire adulthood in Dallas does not prepare her for instant bankruptcy, especially if a philandering husband dies suddenly, leaving her penniless, debt-ridden, and homeless.

Planning on moving in temporarily with her cantankerous mother in the small town of Del Rey, Sara faces more problems than she can handle. During the long, hot summer, she and her daughter, her mother, and a handsome distraught widower and his charming young son learn they can have second chances.

EXCERPT:
After a moment of hesitation, he said very softly, “Sara. I apologize. That should never have happened.”

Shaken by the kiss, Sara turned and gripped the door handle without replying. Instead of opening it, she turned back around, holding the cake platter against her chest with crossed arms. Managing to keep her voice under control, she said, “Well, it won’t happen again, that’s for sure. You won’t be seeing me anymore anyway, probably, unless we just happen to run into each other. I start work tomorrow, and besides, I won’t be staying in Del Rey very long.”

“You’re not moving here?” he asked with some surprise.

“No, I told you from the beginning I was visiting.”

“But you have employment.”

“Yes, but, well…that’s just to help Jeff out temporarily while I’m here.”

“Jeff?”

“The golf pro. So, you see, you really don’t need to worry about my coming around anymore.”

At this juncture, Sara stood as stiffly and silently as Rick.

At last, Rick spoke softly. “It’s mainly about Aaron, Sara. Don’t you see? He needs a lot of things, but right now in his life, I’m the one to supply everything for him—physically and emotionally.”

“Oh, I understand,” she began in a low voice and leaned toward him. “Having your life change drastically is traumatic on anyone, especially a child. But we adults can just suck it up, can’t we, Rick? We carry on, no matter whom we lose, or how much the loss endangers our well-being, or how the circumstances destroy our self-concept.” She paused and looked toward the house and bit her bottom lip. “I need to go.”

Sara drove away. She looked in her rear-view mirror and could barely make out Rick through the near darkness, still standing in the driveway with his hands shoved deeply into his pockets, watching after her as she turned onto the highway.

“Damn,” she whispered to herself. “I can’t please anybody. First kiss in over ten years, and the man apologizes.”

In Print or eBook: click here and scroll down to my book--click on the cover.
http://www.wingsepress.com/

Celia Yeary-Romance...and a little bit 'o Texas