Congratulations to the Winners of my Beyond Texas contest
Jackie Stieghorst Alice Evans
Rachel Bell KathleenKeresey
Helen Russell Jennifer Essad
Joy Sullivan Sherry HautJody Faltys Susan Navidad
Magic and Mysticism in Marfa
(an excerpt from my Carina blog about the inspiration for Beyond Texas)
Marfa (aka Mirage) is a small town in
far West Texas that's famous for the mystical lights that have been dancing
across the desert as long as people have inhabited the area. Tourists, scientists, ranchers, and skeptics
of all ilk have reported seeing the colorful orbs that appear in uninhabited
and difficult area to access. The lights
span the color spectrum and occur randomly regardless of the weather. They've been explained as swamp gas (in a
desert, seriously?), car lights (in 1883?), ball lightening (I'll give them that one),
UFO's, and the spirit of Apache ancestors. They've been known to zoom across
the desert and whip back almost as if to entice viewers to follow them. Whatever the cause or the description, the
miracle lights tantalize our imagination.
Personally, I like to think of them as a friendly reminder that not
everything is explainable.
Have you ever had an experience that
didn't quite fit what we call reality, that didn't adhere to the rules of
physics, that made you wonder–be it a feeling, a glance, a sound that seemed
out of place?
To read the rest of the blog go to
A Tidbit to Entice
"Look what that no-good wind blew in
now," Jessie Roy mumbled.
"She-et, old Beelzebub really does have it in for us."
A lot of folks shared his
pessimism. In her dual duties of town mayor and vice-president of the Chamber of Commerce, Twinkie had assumed the job of
head cheerleader, but even her optimism had its limits.
First, they'd endured the media
circus surrounding the crazy polygamist cult that had spilled over from the
adjacent county, and now they were in the middle of a ball-busting, ground
cracking drought the likes of which hadn't been seen since the Great
Depression. It was so bad the
Baptists had resorted to sprinkling rather than their usual dunking for baptisms.
Marvela jumped up and scampered over
to motel's front door. "We have a
Lord love a duck! Wave a dollar bill in Mama's face and she
morphed into Silly Putty.
Twinkie watched as the rider dismounted
and took off his helmet. His hog
wasn't any run-of-the-mill Harley. This
guy rode a low slung custom Blackline with polished chrome and red flame racing
The man strolled in the lobby oozing
testosterone in his wake. With hair the
color of midnight and a five o'clock shadow, he had the bad boy persona down
pat. Please God, her eyes weren't
bugging out. "Thank you,
ma'am." He nodded to Marvela. "It's a treat to have such a lovely
concierge," he said as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm glad I found a place to stop. That storm's a real b...bad devil." Twinkie had always been a sucker
for broad shoulders, and those biceps–well, let's just say that a Texas Cowboy
T-shirt with the sleeves ripped out had never looked so good. Faded jeans encasing very long legs and an
impressive ass completed the picture.
least that was her impression until he took off his mirrored aviator sunglasses
and she discovered he had eyes the color of Mama's sapphire ring. Oh boy, the big bad wolf had just rolled into
Jessie Roy pulled out his cell ready to punch in Dan's number.
"I'm calling the sheriff."
"We don't sic the law on our
customers," Twinkie said and then took a deep
breath to regulate her breathing. Lord
in heaven, she hadn't clapped eyes on anyone like him in a month of Sundays.
not a good business model." Actually,
the only business she had on her mind was monkey business. As much as she hated to admit it, Twinkie hadn't
enjoyed as much as a kiss in six long months.
That had to be the reason her lust-o-meter had been launched into the stratosphere.