Volume 4 Number 7 July 2004

SHALL WE BEGIN WITH SEX?

Dusty Richards, of course. Well, no, not Dusty himself. I think Pat has that base covered. I'm talking about his books. I received three of them recently. His Jake Logan #301 SLOCUM AND THE CAYUSE SQUAW was first. I read that when the book arrived. You subscribers, of course, know why.

I have also read his TRAIL TO FORT SMITH, which is a Ralph Compton novel by Dusty Richards. This is a sure-to-goodness trail drive, which I lived through with the characters, and our hero finds himself in trouble because of a vindictive woman from Texas. He has himself a sweet wife but he loses his partner to gunplay which was instigated by the villainous Texas woman. Good book.

Then there was the beginning of Dusty's new western action series from Pocket Star Books, DEUCES WILD. The next in the U.S. Marshal Burt Green Western series will be ACES UP.

The problem I had with this book was surely not Dusty's fault. He probably couldn't help it that I fell in love with the antagonist, the man called Seven Forty-five by the army and Deuces by Tom Ford. I fell hard for the half Apache scout Deuces and rooted for him throughout the book. (I wanted him for myself, you know.) The ghastly things he did in the last few chapters shocked me and made me just pity the poor guy.

So what does my reaction tell you? Perhaps you'd better introduce the hero right off, so I can fall for him rather than for the villain? Yep. I guess that's it. US Marshal Burt Green is a great guy and a real hero. Married, of course, but I could live with that. I did love the way he thought about and behaved with, his new wife and if he had appeared first upon the scene I might have fallen in love with him rather than with Deuces.

This was a kind of western/detective (western/marshal?) type story so mystery readers should like it as well as western readers will. That Dusty is a big, mean, writing machine, as I've said before. He turns those babies out.

But I wanted Deuces. I saw the good in him and wanted him for myself. At least Tom Horn took good care of old Deuces. Dusty wrote a great last paragraph for this book.

I loved all three books but I have to admit that yesterday I reread SLOCUM AND THE CAYUSE SQUAW just for the sensual thrill of it all. Thanks once again, Dusty.

OTHER BOOKS THAT CAME MY WAY RECENTLY

I went to a Billie Letts signing and stood in line for thirty minutes to get her signature. She looked so good, so grand, so well dressed and properous. Her lovely big husband was just a step or two away from the signing table but Billie called out and warned me not to flirt with him, so I controlled myself and only spoke a few sentences to the huge, lovely, male creature.

Her book, SHOOT THE MOON surprised me. It's a mystery novel. Yeah. A down-home mystery. I love Billie and consider her a friend.

I don't know Janet Evanovich but I've just read her TEN BIG ONES. Evanovich didn't catch me as quickly as she usually does but I grinned and laughed at several of Stephanie Plum's adventures once I got further into the book.

I bought Sue Grafton's new R IS FOR RICHOCHET. I'm saving that for a special moment. I know Grafton's book will engulf me with pleasure. She never disappoints me. At least, not yet. I'll let you know.

Naturally, I've read several good Regencies, my opium of choice, but not of much interest to you folks, probably. It takes a certain turn of mind to love Regency Romances. I try to tell myself that they are the intellectual's choice in the romance field, but a very frank male friend told me that regencies were just dumb.

Mary McCauley gave me two old Regencies at Tulsa NightWriters meeting last night. I appreciated that . I usually love the old regencies best, the really dumb ones, my friend would say. I think him a bit stupid for making such remarks.

At the meeting I bought my friend Lisa Wingate's new book, TEXAS COOKING, as well as SOJO, a young adult book from my long-time friend from Broken Arrow, Mary Schackelford.

Now, talk about lean mean writing machines; Chuck Sasser's two new books are in my "to be read" pile. CROSSHAIRS ON THE KILL ZONE from Pocket and GOING BONKERS from Dan Case's AWOC Publishing.

Chuck, who is president of the Tulsa NightWriters, did a real favor for all the females at the meeting. He brought a Scots friend, Guy Grieve, who is planning to "homestead" in Alaska. Oh my word, glorious man. (Chuck is wonderful also, of course) However, that Guy, tall, young, fit, with a voice like silk velvet and an accent that awakens all the resting female hormones in under a second, AND, he likes wormen. Yes. Even nice, little, old, fat women, I'm happy to say. Oh, if I could only lose 30 years and 50 pounds!

AND NOW WHAT?

I finished a good regency this morning and this afternoon I'm reading a book called WRITERS DREAMING by Naomi Epel. I can't even remember who handed it to me last night but some of the author's dreams in the book come from Maya Angelou, Sue Grafton, Stephen King (I can't read his novels, but I love his nonfiction and his short stories) and, be-still-my-heart, I will get to read about Elmore Leonard's dreams. My man, Elmore. If I had a baby I'd name it Elmore or maybe Leonard. Awful name, wonderful writer.

The book ends with Amy Tan's dreams, as it should...love that Amy Tan. I'm giving the book to Jackie King when I've finished. Would the person who gave me WRITERS DREAMING please step forward? I'm so thrilled with it.

While I was reading the book I remembered that I had sold a piece about a recurring dream that I had had for years. They used my piece as the prologue for the collection of essays... without editorial comment. Strange. I haven't had that dream since I wrote it, cashed the check, and placed the book on my shelf. Maybe I'll reprint the piece in next month's newsletter. Shall I?

WELL, DIDN'T SHE GO ANYWHERE? DO ANYTHING?

No, not really. Two of my pals were mourning. Jacqueline King, in the death of her son, John and Norma Jane Boone in the death of her mother, Jane. My mom, Miss Hazel, died three years ago on the date that they held Jane's funeral, and she was buried from the same Baptist Chapel where we held Miss Hazel's funeral, so the mourning of my friends stirred up some old sorrows for me, too. I went to both funerals last week and to mourn with my friends, I've done what I rarely allow myself to do: I've stayed home, done no work, and have read around the clock to allow myself to travel to other worlds.

Norma Jane's mom (whom I liked but knew only slightly) was 92, Jackie's son, John (whom I loved dearly) was only 38. Bless their hearts.

CONTEST?

Linda Pollaro of Sherman, Texas, was the only winner from last month. She should have her autographed copy of BARBARA by now. Thanks for trying three times, Linda.

SHADES OF RADINE AND JOHN NEHRING; FROM THE SOW'S EAR

My good pal, Mary E. Alexander, of Nowata, Oklahoma, tells me that my newsletter makes some of my readers quite uncomfortable. My comment? "Well, they shouldn't read them in that case." To be sure, I would not want to make my subscribers uncomfortable.

Although Radine and John haven't yet given up the struggle, Mary E. gave up trying to make a silk purse out of me years ago.

MY ADVICE TO Y'ALL AND TO MYSELF

Stay indoors. Read a lot. Think about a Scotsman.

Love Peggy