My guest today is Ana Morgan whose debut novel Stormy Hawkins was published yesterday.
When she was small, Ana's dream was to know something about everything. She has studiously waitressed, driven a school bus, run craft service on indie film sets, milked cows, wandered through European castles, wired a house, married a Marine, canned vegetables, and studied the stars. She knows how to change a flat tire but prefers a gallant, handsome stranger who strips off his jacket and spins the lug nuts for her.
She began her writing career with essays about living on an organic farm and raising vegetables for a 100-member CSA. Now, in addition to writing sensual historical romances, she is the current president of From the Heart Romance Writers and an editor for The Talking Stick, a regional literary publication.
Today she tells us about the research she did for her novel:
A poet-friend confessed recently, when I
showed her the cover for my debut romance, Stormy
Hawkins, that she had the start of a western romance buried under her bed.
But she’d never write it because the research would be too demanding, and take
too long.
I was surprised. I love the research aspect
of writing stories set in unfamiliar times and places. Maybe this stems from my
life-long goal to know something about as many things as possible.
Stormy
Hawkins is set on a cattle ranch in 1890 southeast
South Dakota. I live on a farm in north central Minnesota, so I had a leg up on
some essential aspects of the story. I’ve driven through both North and South
Dakota with a husband who provides running commentary about the geological and
agricultural history of every small town and continental divide, and who will
slam on the brakes to read a historical marker.
We moved to our then-rundown farm in March
1972. The “house” was a roof over three pushed-together hunting shacks. We had
running water but no bathroom. The outhouse was a two-seater. My grandmother
was the first relative to visit. She bit her tongue and bought for me a wringer
washing machine, which I filled using a hose that attached to the kitchen
faucet.
My eager hubby went to the local sale barn
and bought a Jersey milk cow. She gave birth to twin heifers, and we learned to
milk her by hand. Soon we were in the cattle business.
So, I had some first-hand knowledge of what
daily life might look, feel and smell like on an 1890’s ranch. Act 1 of my
story was research-lite. In Act 2, the heroine Stormy pursues the hero Blade
Masters onto a Missouri River steamboat. I needed to research that.
I ordered books from the local library on steamboats.
I bought used books—hardcovers with oodles of pictures—from ABE Books (a
fantastic resource). I searched historical society websites for riverboat
arrival and departure schedules from St. Louis, MO (my hero’s intended
destination) to Yankton, SD., and found first-hand accounts of riverboat boiler
explosions (frighteningly common) and boat sinkings due to hitting snags (trees
submerged under the Missouri River’s surface).
I knew how the characters would dress on
the ranch, but made sure to check when jeans were invented. I took a
fascinating workshop on the history of clothing so I would envision correctly
the fancy dress that Blade orders for Stormy as a ploy to win her father’s
trust. (Blade wants to buy their ranch.)
Barbed wire, too. I couldn’t have the
characters erect a fence before barbed wire was invented. That detail, and the
history of the army forts established along the Missouri River to protect settlers
from Indian attack, set the exact date for the story.
My editor at SoulMate Publishing checked
on—and correctly called me out on—the dates when double hung windows came into
use. She googled the French brandy in the story to see if it could have been
imported. (I invented the brand, so yes, it could have.)
The research I gathered to write Stormy Hawkins will be useful as I write
the next book in the Prairie Heart series. Book 2 will propel Blade’s sister,
Mary, on a Missouri riverboat and port hopping search for her missing fiancé.
But, I will have to pull out the picture books. Passenger riverboats were grand
conveyances with stately dining rooms, gambling, and promenades—if you had
money. Steerage passengers slept beside stacks of cargo and ate what they
brought aboard.
Blade Masters has finally spotted his ideal Dakota Territory ranch, where he can live alone, forget his cheating ex-fiancée, and bury the shards of his shattered heart. All he needs to do is sweet-talk the ailing owner, and his spitfire daughter, into retiring.
If she weren’t desperate, Stormy would never hire a cowhand. She’s learned the hard way that she’s happier working her family’s ranch alone. But, the greedy banker who holds their mortgage just demanded payment in full—or her hand in marriage.
Will this handsome drifter protect her? Or does he have designs of his own?
Available from Amazon
If she weren’t desperate, Stormy would never hire a cowhand. She’s learned the hard way that she’s happier working her family’s ranch alone. But, the greedy banker who holds their mortgage just demanded payment in full—or her hand in marriage.
Will this handsome drifter protect her? Or does he have designs of his own?
Available from Amazon