Adventure, Mystery, and Romance in the Old West

 

“There’s gold in them thar hills!” was a familiar Gold Rush cry .

Good news. I recently discovered more gold nuggets (books) from years past that fit my popular Cherished Romance Series. Arizona Angel #9, was my very first western (published in 1984 by Perfection Form Company). The new, much-revised edition is now available in Kindle and print.

The story begins decades earlier.

As a young girl, my favorite reading place found me perched in a big pussy willow tree. Sturdy, crossed branches made a seat with the tree trunk as a back rest. I devoured every book I could get my hands on, particularly Zane Grey’s exciting western novels. While reading The Border Legion, I equipped myself with the same things heroine Joan Randle had with her when kidnapped by outlaw, Jack Kells. A red bandana. A comb and brush, etc. Never mind that there had never been a kidnapping in my town. I had to be prepared when a masked rider galloped out of the forest and abducted me. 

Dad’s love of frontier history took us throughout the western states. I learned from Zane Grey the importance of accuracy. At an Arizona trading post, Dad pointed to a trail that led down to a small body of water. Dad named a well-read title. “That is where the hero rode down to water his horse.” The setting in the book had been so vividly described there was no mistaking it. In Oak Creek Canyon we found a sign on an old inn that proclaimed: "Zane Grey stayed here while writing Call of the Canyon." 

Arizona Angel takes place in the Flagstaff area, one of our favorite destinations. The town of Broken Rail is fictional. The way of life lived by the characters is real.

 

Chapter 1

 

     Angela Cartwright shivered and pulled her heavy cape closer as she lurched against the side of the rocking stagecoach. Though it was mid-summer, the early morning Arizona air was cold. She had boarded the stage at Flagstaff for her last miles of the journey from the east coast. The road had become progressively rougher until she felt as if every bone in her body was dislocated. The only thing making the trip bearable was the thought of Abe waiting in Broken Rail. She smiled. Warmth flowed through her veins. How glad she would be to reach her twin.

Crack “What—” The driver’s muttered curse broke in half.

Angela sat upright. Crack. She threw herself to the floor of the coach, vaguely aware of the driver slumping. The unchecked horses raced down the narrow trail, pulling the heavy stage after them. Crack. The horses leaped. The coach lurched, tossing Angela around like a large doll.

Stories she had heard in the east came back to haunt her. Was she the victim of an Indian raid? No, the Indians were no longer on the warpath. Angela tried to right herself. She would not crouch there to die. She managed to pull herself up, and saw him: a lone rider, dressed in black, his face masked with a red bandana. He raced alongside the coach, and raised a rifle. 

She threw herself to the floor once more. Spang. A bullet ricocheted off the window frame. Terrified, she curled into a small ball. Someone was trying to kill her. 

 

 

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