Geronimo and Friends driving a Locomobile

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Posted on June 26, 2024 by Janelle Hooper

08-02-24: 22,123 followers

Geronimo and Friends driving a Locomobile at the 101 Ranch in Oklahoma–yes, that is Geronimo driving!

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A short excerpt from the book, Geronimo’s Laptop, Historical Fantasy, humor (Amazon. Paperback/Kindle/Audiobook)

Geronimo is visiting with one of his many visitors…A man raises his hand and asks, “Was that really you in the newspaper picture I saw of you driving a Locomobile on the prairie?”

“Yes, it was. It was a Locomobile Model C. They let me drive it because we were out there alone and there was nothing to hurt us—or the car. I don’t know who it belonged to, but we had a lot of fun. Sitting next to me in the front seat was Edward Le Clair, a Ponca Indian. Did you notice the beautiful, beaded vest he was wearing? I’d never seen anything like it….”

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What’s on my TV:

The Diplomat, Netflix. New episodes coming in August, I hear! I’ve watched this series at least three times. The writing is wonderful the casting is more than any series could ever hope for. Featuring Keri Russell, Rufus Sewell, and too many others for the space I have on this page.

Madame Secretary, Netflix, 2014-20189. Netflix. My second favorite “government” show. Wonderful writing. I highly recommend both of these shows to writers.

What’s on my music list: I love the music right now. It’s emotional, real, and passionate.

Rod Stewart, “It Had to Be You” and, actually, anything by Rod Stewart!

Michael Buble, “Love”

Lewis Capaldi, “Grace”

Henry Moodie, “Drunk Text”

Taylor Swift, ANYTHING she sings!

Miley Cyrus, “Flowers” Is it possible to wear out a piece of music you’re streaming? I’ll let you know!

What’s on my bookshelf:

Crosswind, Karen K. Brees-Love this novel about women spies during World War II! Yes, we had women spies!

Joseph’s Coat, Vastine Bondurant- When is a beautiful romance more than a romance? Vastine weaves a plot that just keeps giving. From romance to paranormal, it’s full of surprises!

The Conjurer, Nick Oliveri-Nick is a wonderful writer and I’m way behind my own writing schedules because of this book.

The Lost Apothecary, Sarah Penner- I just ordered this book on the recommendation from my daughter. The premise of the Apothecary in London in 1791 is…well, I don’t want to spoil it for you! Prepare to be startled!

Atomic Habits, James Clear- If anyone needs guidance on how to best organize their thoughts and time, it’s a writer! Especially if you’re freelance! My college-aged grandson (at the time) was reading this book and I ordered my own copy.

The Last Rose of Shanghai, Weina Dai Rand? (I’m having trouble with their tiny font.) This is the third novel about WWII I’ve purchased this year. This peek at life in Shanghai during the war mesmerized me!

Sherman Alexi, Love all his books. Also, check out his shorter pieces on Substack: (shermanalexi.substack.com)

West with the Night, Beryl Markham- What a story! A plot set in Africa makes it difficult for a reader to put down.

My Favorite Movies:

A Man Called Otto, Tom Hanks- I loved this realistic slice of normal people with normal lives getting by in a well-written plot with down-to-earth characters. Aren’t you tired of movies where everyone has a fancy car and is just hanging around until he can get a bigger one?

Boogie, Boots, & Cherry Pie art by Sherri Bails for my little romance set in Seattle. Doesn’t she do marvelous work?

Quote

Whatever you’re doing today, do it with the confidence of a four-year-old in a Batman tee-shirt. credit unknown, my Pinterest site

See you next month! Feel free to comment! Janelle

Come visit me on Instagram and Twitter (@janellemhooper) and Janellemerazhooper.Substack.com
www.JanelleHooper.com

New format will be delayed…I’m posting this page before I lose it!

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Posted on April 6, 2024 by Janelle Hooper

08-02-24 22,113 followers

Photo by a staff member of the Tacoma Art Musem. He did such a good job!

Hello! I know I promised you a new, updated format for this site and it has been on my mind. Honestly, most of the delay is due to design issues. What I designed on my work board did not look good on the post. And then…my little laptop died with no warning. Today is my first full day back at my computer. AUGH!

Over Christmas, my daughter, Chanel, and I took an afternoon to see the gorgeous art exhibit at the Tacoma Art Museum. She’s holding me back because we were way too close, and we were both afraid that I might fall into that huge painting.

Geronimo’s Laptop:

Geronimo’s Laptop has been on the road the last few weeks. Most recently it has been at selected bookstores in UK and Ireland.

AudioBooks.com The audio version of Geronimo’s Laptop came out recently on AudioBooks.com

Podcasts: I’m hoping to post some of my podcast guest spots soon. They were a lot of fun!

What else is new? In my new sections planned for this site: Of course, every category won’t be addressed on each post. I know how valuable your time is! They include:
What I’m reading.
Interesting people I’m meeting out in social-media land.
My Photography
What’s good on TV
Music
My Short Stories

Reviews I’ve written for other authors’ books:
Top review from the United States
Janelle Meraz Hooper
5.0 out of 5 stars A beautiful book that is truly a work of art.
Reviewed in the United States on January 14, 2024,
Verified Purchase

Shadows of China, Warren Rapelye White
In a strange way, this beautiful book reminds me of my grandmother, who had a large part in raising me. She used to say, “Make the family proud.” With this book, Shadows of China, Warren Rapelye White has beautifully documented his family’s lifelong Missionary experience in China from 1893-1940.
I originally chose this book because it mentioned on the cover that it covered the Japanese invasion of 1937…not realizing until I held the book in my hands it is so much more than that. This book is a gift to those of us who treasure the art of journalism: beautifully written, thoroughly documented with letters, sketches, photography, and news clips from the period, this book is a treasure in its content. Add to this the loving care given its production and design makes this proud book a stand-alone example of a beautiful book that is truly a work of art from cover to cover.

Quote:

“Be so good they can’t ignore you.” Steve Martin

New podcast and book trailer for Geronimo’s Laptop

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Posted on July 9, 2023 by Janelle Hooper

Dear Reader, this post is unusual for me. I know it is cluttered, but my new novel has gotten so much interest that I couldn’t decide what to post. So I posted it all! I may never have such a popular book again! Thank you all!

Hang in there for me. I’m working on plans for this winter that I think you’ll like!

In the meantime, check out the links below. Don’t miss the Toby Gibben’s podcast. He’s the real star of the podcast he did with me. Thanks Toby. You rock!

Janelle

My newest podcast: The Toby Gibben Shout Out! Radio podcast from Great Britain:

https://youtu.be/IgCLDaG1Hyo?si=1Bxs5jvPYqGPlDXN

New Book Trailer for Geronimo’s Laptop!

https://youtu.be/hOwD0yJ3VAY

Are we having fun yet or what?

Check out the photo in the background. I spent the morning touring a wonderful garden in Tucson when we were there to premiere Geronimo, Life on the Reservation. My new novel, Geronimo’s Laptop, is an extension of that show which was closed down because of Covid. Funny how things work out. He was hired immediately to perform in the Yellowstone tv series. The new season of Yellowstone is coming up. Search for it on your tv channels!

Geronimo’s Laptop is now on Kindle! Paperback! and Audible!

Order yours today!

http://amazon.com/author/janellehooper

Audible books can be ordered in the usual places: Barnes & Noble, Kobo, etc.

New Comment on Amazon!

5.0 out of 5 stars Such a creative novel and perfect for all generations
Reviewed in the United States on August 15, 2023
Verified Purchase
Janelle Meraz has captured the old Medicine Man Geronimo during his later years at Ft. Sill, adjacent to Lawton, OK, where she grew up and where every school kid knew who Geronimo was. Her masterful work of allowing 21st-century electronics to help the old Indian make a case for real freedom for his people to return to their homeland hopefully will allow today’s young readers to better know the Chiricahua warrior.

Thank you, Dan Collier

5.0 out of 5 stars Such a creative novel and perfect for all generations
Reviewed in the United States on August 15, 2023
Verified Purchase
Janelle Meraz has captured the old Medicine Man Geronimo during his later years at Ft. Sill, adjacent to Lawton, OK, where she grew up and where every school kid knew who Geronimo was. Her masterful work of allowing 21st century electronics to help the old Indian make a case for real freedom for his people to return to their homeland hopefully will allow today’s young readers to better know the Chiricahua warrior.

dan collier

5.0 out of 5 stars Such a creative novel and perfect for all generations
Reviewed in the United States on August 15, 2023
Verified Purchase
Janelle Meraz has captured the old Medicine Man Geronimo during his later years at Ft. Sill, adjacent to Lawton, OK, where she grew up and where every school kid knew who Geronimo was. Her masterful work of allowing 21st century electronics to help the old Indian make a case for real freedom for his people to return to their homeland hopefully will allow today’s young readers to better know the Chiricahua warrior.

An excerpt from Geronimo’s Laptop

One of my favorite characters in Geronimo’s Laptop is an old settler named Jo, who tells Geronimo she has sold her farm to the government and is heading West. The bonnet she is wearing in the book is just like the bonnet my grandmother made for me when she told her stories about life on a wagon train with her new husband. I still have it, it’s the same one in the photo! Writers tend to be very archival, you know…

“What do you do during the day, Mr. Geronimo?” asks a woman with weathered skin and her hair pulled back in a tight bun. Her faded calico dress in a floral fabric and faded calico bonnet older than her dress makes her look like one of the original settlers. Geronimo has seen these cotton hats before. Designed with a wide brim, they tie under the chin with a fabric tie and unbutton at the back so a woman can lay it flat to dry after it is washed. She is quite a contrast from the women wearing fancy beribboned bonnets with flowers and dead birds decorating the top he usually sees. In her own way, she is a lot more interesting.
Why is she here? Geronimo wonders if he and his warriors ever hurt one of her family members. It is unlikely. Mainly Comanches and Kiowas roamed the area when Indians were free. Even so, he approaches her cautiously, but she remains quiet and polite.
“Do you live around here, ma’am?” Geronimo asks gently.
“Call me Jo. I did. But not anymore. The government just bought my farm kit and caboodle for a pretty penny. I’m catching the next train west to live with my daughter in California.”
“Are you sad to leave, Jo?”
“Hell, no! Two days ago, my well ran dry and my last cow died. This morning, just when I was wondering how I was going to bury poor old Bessie all by myself, there was a knock on the door and a man with a briefcase showed me a check with a lot of zeros on it. I tried to be honest and tell him the well had run dry. He said that was okay. Then, I told him my last cow had just died. He said he was sorry to hear it, but that was okay too. Then, I told him the house is falling apart. He said it didn’t matter because they were going to blow it to smithereens with their cannons anyway. Quicker than a turtle on roller skates, I shoved some clean clothes into my carpet bag, threw in a few photos, and hitched a ride back to town with him.” As Geronimo was walking away, she said, “I do feel real sorry for Bessie though. Poor cow deserved a decent burial. I asked the man if he could help me bury her real quick but he said he hadn’t brought a shovel. I told him I had one but I don’t think he heard me,” she says, feigning puzzlement.
The rest of Geronimo’s visitors grab whatever they can reach to hide their laughter. Men hide their faces behind their hats; women hold their purses in front of their grins. Jo’s sense of humor is so unexpected. Only a strong woman could live such a hard life and keep such a sense of humor. Although Geronimo had never met Jo when the Apaches were fighting the settlers, he remembers other women who must have been just like her. Strong. Resilient. Brave. Determined. Geronimo will never forget her. Or them.
A carriage pulls up. Jo’s ride to the train station has arrived.
Geronimo picks up the thread of his spiel before he met Jo, but his unexpected encounter with a former foe makes it difficult. “If I’m not having my picture taken somewhere or downtown sitting under the big bank clock selling my bows and arrows to tourists, I’m with my cattle. The army promised me no one will take our cattle unless we sell them. That’s a big deal because Naiche and I have helped Apaches to raise a huge herd and they’re worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. Yeah. I’m not kidding you.” When he hears laughter, he immediately knows his audience is not laughing about his cows. They are laughing about poor Bessie. Stifling a chuckle, Geronimo charges determinedly on, accepting he has lost control of this visit hijacked by a pioneer woman and her dead cow…

Top reviews from the United States on Amazon

Newest-

5.0 out of 5 stars HOOKED FROM PAGE ONE!

Reviewed in the United States on July 3, 2023

Verified Purchase

GERONIMO’S LAPTOP is a story of survival, strength, loss, heartbreak, and wonder. Humor is woven throughout the story, from its imaginative premise of a mystical laptop to the characters themselves. Janelle Meraz Hooper respects her subject and the circumstances and times that shaped his life. GERONIMO’S LAPTOP is a powerful and engaging history lesson. “In this way, Geronimo tells the story of his people: the pain mixed with humor. The humor mixed with pain. The sadness mixed with both.” (from page 32) VFG

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John W Brees

5.0 out of 5 stars In an Alternate Universe
Reviewed in the United States on June 1, 2023
This was a fascinating story. Part history lesson, part science fiction, part speculative fiction, and entirely spot on. History is written by the victors, and the conquered rarely get a chance to tell their side. In Geronimo’s Laptop, however, author Janelle Meraz Hooper has finally done just that. It’s Geronimo as you’ve never encountered him before – human, pragmatic, philosophical, and determined to set the record straight. There’s humor, but it’s muted with the burden of truth it carries.

Geronimo’s personal liberty might have been reduced to the confines of Fort Sill Indian Reservation in Oklahoma, but his reputation could not be contained. As the American public sought out this living relic of Native America so they could say they had actually seen the infamous Geronimo and actually spoken with him, Geronimo milked their curiosity for all it was worth. And the laptop. Oh, yes. This technological marvel with supernatural programming is the icing on the cake. Essentially, Geronimo is past, present, and future. It’s an intriguing concept.

The bottom line, however, is that the reader finally gets to read the other side of the story, and it’s tough going. It’s an eye-opener for those of us who accepted what we’d been taught as gospel. Is there justice, after all? Perhaps. The lesson here is to question. Always question what you’ve been told. And in the questioning, the truth may finally be told.

Geronimo’s Laptop is history the way it should be taught. It’s got the hook, for sure. It’s also got the facts. Highly recommended.
Read less

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Elizabeth Lyon

5.0 out of 5 stars Gotta love Geronimo’s WeSquawk network
Reviewed in the United States on May 29, 2023
This story made me laugh and cry. Worth reading many times and recommending to others. Geronimo’s Laptop is among the most unique historical humor fantasies on earth! Set in Fort Sill, where the Apaches became POWs, Geronimo receives visitors and answers their questions. He’s well aware of his celebrity and does everything to utilize it to set the record straight, petition for his people’s freedom, and make money to help his tribe. Janelle Meraz Hooper, author of many novels, historical and modern and humorous (and some serious), adds the fantasy element of Geronimo using a laptop, that he, well, “borrowed” from one of the officers who is away from the base. With his setup of WeSquawk network, he can reach out to other “Indians,” dead or alive. Hooper deftly keeps suspense in the air through the mysterious appearances of white feathers, delivered from an unknown man, often to Geronimo’s beloved wife, and trying to locate the missing lieutenant who most understood and helped Geronimo.

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DEL

5.0 out of 5 stars Entertaining, Enlightening and Educational!
Reviewed in the United States on May 30, 2023
Who would’ve thought Geronimo would ever use a laptop to communicate? Entertaining, educational, fantastical and fun. A very inventive way into the life of one of America’s most misunderstood historical figures. Geronimo lives… to send emails!

Buy now on Amazon.com https://www.amazon.com/author/janellehooper

Halloween-Sanyo and Hatchet

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Posted on September 26, 2022 by Janelle Hooper

Sanyo was warned not to make eye contact with the big black jungle crows that roamed the streets of downtown Tokyo…
They were not ordinary crows, but huge birds with wingspans of over three feet that flew in large intimidating gangs, tipped over garbage cans, and viciously attacked people they didn’t like who made direct eye contact with them. Hostile and vindictive, the mean-tempered birds were said to never forget a face.

Sanyo, six years old, didn’t believe the warnings. They were just birds. From her upstairs bedroom window on the top floor of a deluxe, high-rise condominium, she watched them as they cawed and chased passersby on the busy Tokyo street below. She didn’t think the birds were dangerous, just bad-mannered.

One day, Neko, Sanyo’s nanny, put a tray of tea and cookies on Sanyo’s play table and softly closed the door behind her. The young girl had dressed herself in her best ceremonial kimono, hoping to have tea with her mother. Sadly, she realized she’d again have afternoon tea alone in her bedroom; her mother was still at the office.

As she had so many times before, Sanyo lined up all of her beautiful dolls at her tea table and poured tea into tiny china cups. She would have tea with her friends. Her only friends. Neko wouldn’t let her play with the other children in the condominium. It was easier to just keep her in her room.

The child was uneasy and looked up to see one of the crows on her windowsill. Surprised at how large the bird looked close-up, she forgot the warnings from her parents and made direct eye contact with him. The bird stared back. Sanyo thought he must want the cookie, so she opened the window just wide enough to stick it out. The crow rudely yanked the snack out of her hand and swallowed it whole, then forced his way into her room.

Sanyo called out for Neko, but her calls were unanswered. Angry and jealous that Sanyo had so many beautiful things, he flew right for her beloved dolls. With methodical hatefulness, he marched over their laps and plucked the eyes from each one. Each time he moved to a new doll, he looked back at the stunned child who stood paralyzed with fear on the other side of the room. When there were no eyes left to pluck, the crow made a swing past Sanyo’s face and stabbed his hatchet beak toward her eyes. It was a warning: Sanyo had better not ever cross him.

He departed through the still open window with a string of caws that ricocheted between the buildings and shot down the street. The other crows answered his call, and soon the sky was black with the crow and its friends.

Sanyo ran to her dolls, but there was nothing to be done. The bird’s beak had crushed each eyeball into powder. The next day, Hatchet, as Sanyo had begun to call him, was back on the windowsill. The youngster, alone again, turned her back to him as she served tea to her dolls and nervously ate her cookie. The crow became more and more angry and threatening as he cawed.

Sanyo was too terrified to look at the bird. As Hatchet repeatedly stabbed at the glass with his giant bill, she quietly served her sightless dolls another cup of tea. To make sure the crow never got into the house again, Sanyo got up before the sun rose each day and rushed around the house to make sure all of the windows were shut tight and locked.

She was on her own; both of her parents worked, and they were tired when they got home at night. She knew they’d have no patience to listen to her story about Hatchet. Her nanny, who was also the cook, kept to her kitchen most of the time. She had scant interest in Sanyo when she was happy. She’d have even less interest in Sanyo if she had a problem.

Then, one day, Sanyo had to go downstairs for her cookies and tea. Neko halfheartedly apologized for not bringing it up to her and said she was busy making a special meal for her parents who had been working very hard. The table was so heavily laden with platters full of all kinds of noodles, rice dishes, sushi, intricately cut vegetables, and exotic fruits that Sanyo couldn’t see the countertop.

Too late, she noticed a high window above the cabinets whose curtains blew in the breeze. Neko had opened the window! Sanyo ran for the long crank that was used to shut it, but she was too late. Hatchet flew in with a loud caw and landed on the kitchen counter right on top of the platter of fancy sushi.

Neko dropped her knife, screamed, and ran from the kitchen with her arms flailing. She never so much as looked back at Sanyo, who sat frozen with fear in her chair. As the crow stomped over the elaborate dishes with his grimy, gnarled feet, he never took his eyes off Sanyo’s cookie.

Sanyo was so frightened she lost her grip on the treat and it rolled over to the edge of the big double sink and fell in. Caught up in the chase, the crow flew after it, his big black claws slid around on the shiny sink interior as he tried in vain to catch the rolling cookie. Hatchet didn’t stop his pursuit when the cookie spun and slid into the garbage disposal. He barely paused before he stretched out his long neck and went right into the disposal after it.

Sanyo saw her chance. With lightning speed, she reached over and flipped on the switch to the appliance. Her eyes widened when she heard one surprised shriek as the blades ground the crow’s beak into a fine powder, not unlike her dolls’ eyes. When the giant bird was finally able to withdraw his body and flap headless around the kitchen, he spewed blood, guts, and loose feathers all over Neko’s special dinner.

Sanyo was about to hop down from her chair and run to her room when something in the sink caught her eye. There among the blood and feathers was an egg that Hatchet had carried. She was a mother! She nudged the egg into the disposal with a wooden spoon and once again, flipped the switch on the wall. Now she would never have to fear another Hatchet. It was over.

Still stunned, she turned her back on the mess and calmly went upstairs; she left her cowardly nanny to clean up the bloody feathers and bones. Halfway up the stairs, the shock began to wear off, and a suddenly confident Sanyo went to her room to pack up her dolls in a cardboard box. Her parents would surely buy her new ones—and get her a new nanny.

When she opened the door to her room she was met with seven pairs of black eyes that stared at her from her windowsill. Eyes filled with pure hate. A cold chill ran down her back as she realized they knew.

Knew about Hatchet.

Knew about the disposal.

Knew about the egg.

By their stares, she could tell that they wouldn’t rest until they got even. Sadly, Sanyo realized it was not over after all. That night, she lay sleepless in her bed and shivered with terror as she listened to the crows as they ripped through the shingles on the roof above her room. Rrrr-ip, rrr-rip, rrr-ip…not the end

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Please share this story.

My thanks, Janelle

Visit me! Amazon, Instagram, Substack, Pinterest, Twitter, and Facebook

My first Halloween costume, 1948

Boot Scootin’ Weekend

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Posted on July 28, 2022 by Janelle Hooper

Boot Scootin’ Weekend

Janelle Meraz Hooper

This is a companion piece to my novel: A One-way Cruise to Africa, Terror on the Internet…

Weekends off for the three cowboys were rare. This time, as usual, they headed for a nearby Idaho town that had everything necessary for two days off from herding cattle: an affordable motel for resting with an attached restaurant, and a nearby tavern that has western music and boot scootin’ line dancing with plenty of cold beer.

The next morning, the three cowboys strolled into the restaurant and waved to Louise, their waitress. “Hey. Louise,” Tom said to the waitress that he’s known for years. “You goin’ boot-scootin’ tonight?”

Louise laughed, “No, I’m afraid all of my boot-scootin’ friends are on Boot Hill.”

The men, after a night of line dancing and flirting with the pretty girls at the Western Tavern down the street, order eggs and elk sausage the restaurant is known for. As they wash it down with their long-necked bottles of beer they shake their heads. Through the large plate glass window, they watch Drake’s beautiful sister out in the parking lot flirting with some cowboy she’s never seen before.

“What am I going to do with Tina?” Drake worries. “She’s just eighteen—too young to be acting like that. Dad would have a fit if he were here.”

“Maybe, we should leave her home next time,” Don says, “We like her, Drake, but weekends with her are turning into full-time babysitting jobs.”

“I’d like to, but she’d raise such a fuss that we’d end up having to tell dad about her flirting, then she’d never forgive me.”

Roger looked at her cooling breakfast, “Well, her eggs are getting cold. I’m going to eat them, and she can order more when she comes in.”

“Where are they going?” Drake says as he scoots back his chair and heads for the parking lot. He is alarmed, at how fast the stranger has talked his sister into following him toward his car. The other two men jump up and follow the distraught brother.

Charging across the parking lot, Drake shouts, “Tina! Your eggs are getting cold.” Reaching the young woman in time to grab her arm, he says, “What are you doing?”

“We’re just talking,” the young woman says as she turns to her brother. “Go back and eat your breakfast. Clint has new puppies in his car. I want to see them.”

“Oh, yeah? We’ll both look. What kind are they?” he asks the stranger who is starting to panic. By now, the other two men who had been eating breakfast with Drake walk up, dangling their beer bottles loosely from their hands. “What’s up?” Roger asks.

“Uh, I’m late, I have to go,” the man says as he turns to rush toward his car. He panics when he looks over his shoulder and sees three angry men following him.

“Oh, no! You can’t go until we see the puppies. What kind did you say they were?” Drake asks.

“Snickerdoodles,” Tina says. I’ll bet they’re cute.”

By now, the stranger in the parking lot is beginning to sweat. The men look through the car windows and see nothing but empty fast-food wrappers in the backseat. “So, where are they? In the trunk?”

“I completely forgot. I left them at home today,” he say as he races to the driver’s side of his car.

“Not so fast. I think you owe this little, underaged girl an explanation,” Tina’s brother says.

“I’m, sorry, I thought you were a lot older…” the man stammers.

Reality is finally dawning on the young woman, and she says nothing as the three men take turns tossing him against his car a few times before he tears himself away, dives for the front seat of his car, and races off.

Drake is much too shaken to scold his sister. All he can say is, “Tina, your breakfast is getting cold. We’ll talk about this later.”

Embarrassed and ashamed, Tina hugs each man but before she can thank them, the tears and sobs catch up with her. Inside the restaurant, a waitress brings Tina a cup of coffee and murmurs, “Let me know when you’re ready to eat,” then hastily retreats before the fireworks start.

As she is walking away. Drake calls her back to order three more beers and breakfast to go for Tina. Then he looks at his friends, and motions that they need to go back to their rooms. Terror surfaces on his expression now that the danger is over.

As soon as the beers and Tina’s breakfast arrive, the three cowboys quickly throw some bills on the table, grab the bottles, and head for their rooms, pushing Drake’s sister in front of them.

“I thought he was just a cowboy like you guys,” she says softly.

“Just because a man is wearing a big belt buckle, doesn’t mean he’s a cowboy, Tina,” Drake says, his voice shaking. “Didn’t you at least notice his boots? They were construction boots!”

Just then, a sheriff’s car pulls up to the restaurant door.

“I completely forgot!” the waitress apologizes as she runs over to the group, I called 911 when I saw that man put his arm on your sister. I guess it was just a mom’s reaction.”

“That was a good idea, thanks, Louise,” Drake says.

The sheriff comes in the door of the empty restaurant and heads straight for the sobbing young woman.

He introduces himself and asks what happened. All of the questions were routine with routine answers until the sheriff asks Tina if she’s ever seen the man before.

“A couple of times,” she admits. The three cowboys at the table choke on their beer.

“Where? When?” Drake demands to know.

“Well,” Tina says, the first time was at the Boot-Scootin’ Tavern when we were dancing last night. He was watching me. He asked me to go outside with him so he could get a smoke, but I was having too much fun dancing to leave. The second time was this morning.” Surprised, she says, “He was hanging around my door. I didn’t think anything about it, and I knew you guys were waiting for me, so I was in a hurry.”

“What happened then?” the sheriff asks.

“He followed me and then started telling me about his cute little snickerdoodle puppies that he had in his car…” she looked at her brother with shock, “Drake, I don’t know how he did it, but before I knew it, he had me outside and we were headed for his car. I don’t even know when he grabbed my arm. It all happened so fast, and I was just so interested in seeing the puppies.”

The sheriff’s CB pings, and he motions for everyone to be quiet.

Embarrassed, Tina whispers to her brother, “What’s the big deal? Men flirt with women all the time. No one ever calls 911!”

“Folks, I’m sorry but I have to ask you all to come down to the station and fill out a formal report. My deputy picked up that guy racing out of town. When he pulled him over, he brought up his license plate and discovered they were looking for him in two other states. The reports gave him a legal right to search the car. Inside the trunk, they found duct tape, rope, and handcuffs. He also found some rags that look like they might have blood on them.”

As she buries her face in her brother’s shoulder Tina looks at Drake and begs, “When this is over, can we go home? She looks at the other two men and pleads, “Do you mind?”

Roger looks at Tina and says, “Tina, we can be saddled up and ready to boot-scoot out of here before you can pack your make-up.” Tom nods his agreement, “The sooner this weekend is over, the better.”

Note: Sex trafficking is up all over the nation. From cities to reservations, young women are disappearing. Teach your young adults to be aware of who and what’s around them wherever they are.

Man Buns and Mom’s Meatloaf

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Posted on January 11, 2022 by Janelle Hooper

Due to an editing error on my Kindle re-submission, I have wiped out my reviews for this Kindle book. It’s a good read, I promise! If you read the book and like it, please write a few lines on my Amazon book page under comments. It just takes a few minutes and it will help me build my readership. Thanks so much!

Another snippet of one of the characters who is in my newest novel, A One-way Cruise to Africa, Terror on the Internet.

This is an unusual novel subject for me, but the incidences of human trafficking are escalating in this country. Kindle/sex-trafficking/ humor/ romance/ FBI/Seattle/Tombstone, Az

What is the same about this novel is my light hand at approaching this difficult subject. Much like my novel, The Slum Resort which is about impoverished senior citizens, my One-way Cruise to Africa, Terror on the Internet novel addresses the subject with humor and taste. NO explicit sex or drug scenes are in my “Cruise” novel! Buy on Amazon Kindle.

Meatloaf photo credit: Microsoft

Signing programs after our Geronimo, Life on the Reservation

at the Wyatt McCrea Ranch.

New Review for A One-way Cruise to Africa

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Posted on January 5, 2022 by Janelle Hooper

https://www.amazon.com/author/janellehooper

Thank you, Conley Snapper McAnally, for this review I received in an email:

REVIEW: Janelle Hooper opens up a dark door to a reality that we in a “safe America” dismiss. To say that her insight about human trafficking was “ripped from the headlines “would be an understatement. The protagonists come alive on the pages and her characterization of the villains makes one want to look over their shoulder when traveling alone. Another triumph for Ms. Hooper. Conley Snapper McAnally

“Trust your instincts, then follow them…”

Available on Amazon Kindle

A little bit about Jean, Miku’s “associate” in the United States who finds women for him…

Happy Hispanic Heritage Month!

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Posted on October 3, 2021 by Janelle Hooper

A few opening lines from my novel A Three-Turtle Summer. Paperback and Kindle on Amazon. Paperback at Barnes & Noble.

1. A Sister in Trouble

Fort Sill, Oklahoma, July 1949

It was too hot to play cards, especially if someone was keeping score, and Vera was.

“Ay, carumba! You can’t stand to go two hours without beating someone at something can you?” Grace Tyler playfully pouted.

Vera ignored her little sister, and began shuffling cards as she gleefully announced, “Senoras, the game is canasta, and we’re going to play according to Hoyle.” She began to deal the cards like a Las Vegas gambler while Pauline laughed and pointed at her mother, a notorious and frequent card cheater.

Everyone was hot, but in her long-sleeved shirt and long skirt, Grace was sweltering. Sweat beaded up on her forehead and neck and she kept stretching her legs out because the backs of her knees stuck to her skirt.

“Gracie, for God’s sake, go put some shorts on,” Vera said.

Grace ignored her sister, pulled her shirt away from her perspiring chest, and asked, “Anyone want more iced tea before Vera whips the pants off of us?”

Momma and Pauline both nodded and Grace poured tea over fresh ice cubes while Vera got a tablet and pencil out of her purse.

The room was almost silent as each woman arranged her hand. Only Momma barely tapped her foot and softly sang a song from her childhood under her breath:

“The fair senorita with the rose in her hair …

worked in the cantina but she didn’t care …

played cards with the men and took all their loot … awh-ha!

went to the store and bought brand new boots … ”

“Awh-Haaa!” Grace’s five-year-old daughter Glory joined in.

Unconsciously, the other two women started to hum along while they looked at their hand. About the second “Awh-Haaa!” Vera abruptly stopped humming and looked at her sisters with a raised eyebrow. Something was fishy; Momma was much too happy. Barely containing their amusement, they watched as she cheerfully arranged her cards.

Finally, unable to suppress her laughter any longer, Vera jumped up, snatched the cards out of her mother’s hands, and fanned them face-up across the table.

“Ay, ay, ay!” She cried out, “Momma, tell me how can you have a meld and eleven cards in your hand when we’ve just gotten started?”

The fun escalated as Vera rushed around the table and ran her hands all around her mother and the chair she sat on to feel for extra cards.

“Stand up!” Grace and her sisters said as they pulled their mother to her feet. They shook her blue calico dress and screamed with laughter as extra cards fell from every fold.

“Glory,” Vera told her young niece, “crawl under the table and get those cards for your Auntie Vera, okay?” Grace moved her feet to the side so that Glory could scramble under the table. Her childish giggles danced around the women’s feet as she scrambled for the extra cards that dropped from her grandmother’s dress.

“Momma,” Vera laughed, “you’re a born cheater. How did you know we were going to play cards today?” she asked.

“I’m not the only one in this family who’s been caught with a few too many cards,” Momma said in her defense.

“Yes, but you’re the family matriarch. We expect better of you than we do our good-for-nothing brothers,” Pauline said.

“Huh! Matriarch, my foot. You girls never listen to a word I say,” Momma grumbled.

“Maybe that’s because we can’t trust you,” Vera said.

As another card dropped from Gregoria’s dress and slid across the floor, Vera added, “We’ll strip you down to your rosary before we ever play cards with you again, Momma.”

“Yeah,” Pauline, chimed in, “the next time you’ll play in nothing but your lace step-ins and a bra made from two tortillas.”

“Well, at least I’ll be the coolest one at the table,” Momma chirped.

Vera reached across the table to gather all the cards and reshuffle them. “We’re going to start all over, and we’ll watch you every minute.”

Grace felt a sharp pain in her stomach when she looked up and saw her husband’s scowling face through the screen door. Why was he home so early? She didn’t have to look at him again to know his normally handsome blond features smoldered with disgust…

See my books and stories here: https://www.amazon.com/author/janellehooper

Please share this post! My thanks, Janelle
Visiting my mother in Lawton, Oklahoma
A long time ago! A Three-Turtle Summer,
fictional autobiography,
was written about our life with my father.

Pulled Pork and Box Cake

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Posted on September 23, 2021 by Janelle Hooper

Pulled Pork and Box Cake
Janelle Meraz Hooper

For all the wives who hate football…

Shelly’s feet hit the floor at six every Sunday morning during football season. She had a lot to do because her husband’s friends always invaded their living room to watch the big game on their new, huge tv screen.

How she hated that tv. Even when a football game wasn’t on, all she saw when she looked at it was her canceled trip to Italy that she’d saved years for. Roy hadn’t even asked her before spending her vacation money. One day he just went to the big box store to pick up some batteries for the remote control and came home carrying a box big enough to hold an inflatable boat. How dumb was she? She should have known something was up when he went to the warehouse store to buy batteries instead of the drugstore on the corner.

Then, Seattle got hit with a rainstorm so severe that the game had to be canceled. Shelly fussed and fumed while she put the pork roast in the oven for the pulled pork, iced the beer, and mixed up a box cake. You see, even though the game had been canceled, the men were coming over to watch reruns of past games.

The night before a game, during dinner, he’d always ask her about the menu. His questions were always the same:

Do you think that the pork roast is big enough?

You only bought one cake mix? What if someone doesn’t like chocolate?

Did you get everyone’s favorite beer?

Did you get plenty of lemons and limes in case someone wants something harder?

What about tonic water?

The subject turned to the costumes and painted faces that showed up at every game on tv. Showing her disgust, she said, “if you ever want a divorce, don’t tell me, just paint your face in your team’s colors and wear a plastic watermelon hat on your head.” Roy was quiet but Shelly was so annoyed she didn’t notice.

The next day, after the football show was over and his friends were gone, Roy disappeared into his den. Shelly got a big plastic trash bag and began picking up the mess the men had left. A few minutes later, a loud yell came out of the den. Startled, she looked up just in time to see Roy come through the door in the full gameday getup of his favorite team: painted face, a game tee-shirt so short it showed his painted belly button and a watermelon hat.

The funny thing was, when he said he was leaving her, the only question that came to her mind to ask was: “Where did you get a plastic watermelon hat during the height of football season?” She’d read that all the teams had been sold out of souvenir hats for weeks.

For a divorce “present” Shelly gave Roy the big screen tv. She didn’t want it anyway.

A few days after that, she got a thank-you card from Roy. Inside was a check large enough to cover a trip to Italy and a note saying it was from the Pulled Pork and Box Cake Gang.

Maybe they weren’t such bad guys after all…

If you like this story, please share! My thanks, Janelle

The author before a performance of Geronimo, Life on the Reservation at the
Joel Mc Crea Ranch

Dear friends, if you’ve read any of my books or short stories on Amazon, please drop a few lines on the book’s Amazon page. It helps me and just takes a few minutes.

https://www.amazon.com/author/janellehooper

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My Mom’s Date With Rod Stewart

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Posted on August 14, 2021 by Janelle Hooper

https://youtu.be/O-xHOR8_ZSU

(link above)

My Mom’s Date With Rod Stewart
Janelle Meraz Hooper

Years ago, I was visiting my mother in Oklahoma. It was too hot to sleep and we were up late flipping through the TV channels looking for something to watch. One of the shows caught my mother’s eyes instantly.
“Who is that?” (My mom didn’t watch much TV.)
I said, “Just some guy called Rod Stewart. You won’t like him.”
“No, stop!” she said as she grabbed my wrist. Instantly, Mom was hooked. The kid with the bleached, spikey hair didn’t put her off a bit. Mom was almost totally deaf in both ears but she often didn’t bother to turn her hearing aids on. That night, she turned both of them on and put her hand on the top of the TV cabinet so she would feel the music vibrating.

Rod must have sung every song he’d ever recorded and I couldn’t believe Mom’s reaction. We stayed up and watched the entire show. My mom, a Rod Stewart fan! She must have been in her early seventies.

Do you think you know your parents? Think again. I learned something about my mom that night…late on a hot summer’s night, with the crickets singing outside the screen door–and Rod Stewart singing inside…

If you like this story, please share! My Thanks, Janelle

New!
&

I’m With Johnny Cash

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Posted on December 31, 2020 by Janelle Hooper

I’m with Johnny Cash
Janelle Meraz Hooper

I’m not judging all of you who are wearing colorful masks to protect yourself from Covid-19. I get it. Americans are known for their sense of humor during a crisis. We have war humor, political humor, and religious humor. We have jokes about dead cats, dogs that bite, and even deadly snakes crawling around in planes.

So, go for it. Order that mask with Van Gogh’s missing ear on it. The one with the one-fingered Trump salute across the front. The one with your business card on it. And bring out the glitter and the ones with squiggly eyes. Have fun!

But, for this crisis, I just don’t feel it. I don’t think I’ve made one crack about Covid-19 since it emerged. Remember when Johnny Cash came on stage dressed in black when the Vietnam War was at its worse? He vowed to wear nothing but black until the war was over and our boys came home.

That’s the way I feel. My mask is black. Too many people have died. We’ve all lost family members. People are hungry. A lot of us are jobless. Schools are closed. And on and on.

I already have Manolito’s black hat that he wore on High Chaparral. Maybe I’ll wear that with my black mask. And cowboy boots…I need some black ones. I think Johnny would approve.

If you like this, please share!

1934- Dancing through the cotton at 5-years-old

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Posted on June 23, 2018 by Janelle Hooper

My mother was born in this country, but her grandmother rode the train with her children to Texas to escape injustice*.There’s a lot of talk about immigrants coming across our borders lately. Here’s what happened to the child of one of them…*Escape to Laredo, Kindle short.

My mother was a funny person, even as a child. I found this page from my mother’s journal in my computer this morning. She wrote it in 1983 after I had asked her about her childhood (writer’s tend to be very archival.). I think it is a real window into the life of a migrant in Oklahoma. It was 1934 when she was five-years-old. When my mother was about seven-years-old, she sewed her first garment. She told me it was a bra with a big green bead in the center; she thought it was so glamorous! Her siblings teased her so much about it that she poked it into a hole in her bedroom wall to get rid of it forever. Mom became an amazing seamstress who could sew a garment for a customer just by looking at a photo–without a pattern. In her later years, she worked at The Bon Marche (now Macy’s) as an alteration lady and a designer of wedding veils. Later, she owned R-Zak’s, an officers’ uniform store in Lawton, Oklahoma. I hope you enjoy it:

I was five-years-old and I had found my first pet. A cute little dog. It disappeared before I had even named him. I was too young to know if my mother had given him away, she kept telling me that he would come back. I cried for days.

We were at a farm where Dad had been hired for the cotton season, as was the custom, the owner had given Dad two big tents. One for sleeping—one to use as a kitchen.

I was happy, but very quiet, and very serious. I was too small to pick cotton, so my first job was to take drinking water to them. The way to the cotton field was all warm brown sand, and I use to dance all the way.

After the water drinking, I just stayed and walked beside my Dad, we talked, and he taught me one Spanish song, when he sang this song, he would look very sad.

Lunchtime, we all walked home. The flaps of the tent would be rolled up, and we could see mother cooking. She would be making her favorite bread made like biscuits and pulled long as she put them in the pan.

Beans, rice, and a big bowl of hot peppers, plus coffee which I wasn’t allowed to drink, but I drained all the cups after they left the table. Our table was a long board table with a bench on each side. Mother always had tablecloths made out of white sugar sacks with flowers embroidered all over.

When the cotton season was over, we moved to Cyril, OK. I was almost seven, and time to start school.

Then the fun started, since I was always hungry, I developed a scheme how to get candy, apples and Indian bread from the Indian kids. It was so easy since I was the teacher’s pet, and she thought I could do no wrong. I would trade my tablets, pencils, crayons for any thing that looked good—then all I had to do was shed a few tears and I got all my things back. And the kids would get the ruler for taking “things from Little Grace.” One day I made a big haul—one apple, 1 orange, one Milky Way bar all for my Red Chief Indian tablet. During recess,I inhaled all this stuff. When we went back it was time for penmanship. I started my act, I was so upset I couldn’t even say the boy’s name. I just pointed to him. He got a spanking—I got my tablet—what an actress!

My school days were cut short when my dad decided to try his hand at farming, he leased a farm three-miles from Cyril. After a year he gave up, he didn’t know how to run a two-horse plow, he didn’t know how to milk a cow.

So back to Cyril, he rented part of a house from an Indian lady she had three-sons-one daughter the two older boys beat the drum and sang all night long.
About that time some of the men with families started moving to Lawton, we had had enough of drumming, so we moved also. We landed in tent town, east of Lawton, my dad and brother set up a tent, but didn’t secure it right so that night a strong wind came up, and we woke up with a tent on top of us.

My father started looking for a house. He found one on Bell Street, three rooms, with an out-house. We lived there about three years, then we moved to a big house with a bathroom.

On my eighteenth birthday my dad bought me a bed room suite. I was real popular, I danced I played softball with a team—I was real interested in art, but we couldn’t afford lessons. I earned money working for my Sunday school teacher.

Times were hard, the county was helping us with staples. Every month the man would bring a box with Flour—cornmeal, syrup, sugar, coffee cheese and cans of chopped meat.

I made all my clothes, without a pattern, we did have a paddle Singer sewing machine. I had a lot of friends, but boys didn’t like me—they all called me sis, maybe if they had seen my legs they would have liked me, but dad didn’t allow us to wear shorts or short sleeves.

Our home life was good—no fights, no quarrels. I only saw my dad angry once when mother used his hammer from his tool box and didn’t put it back. He was going to leave us. Then he went in the kitchen and made coffee. One thing was for sure, she put everything back when she used his tools.

This is one of my last photos of my mother. Her story was the basis for my first novel, A Three-Turtle Summer.

There’s more, but I’ll stop for now in case you’re busy!

Thanks for stopping by!
Janelle

See my books and stories on Amazon and other Internet bookstores:

My newest novel. Amazon Kindle.
How does a One-way Cruise to Africa end up in Tombstone?

Dear friends, another change in my format!

Posted on July 27, 2024 by Janelle Hooper

Due to the ever-changing world landscape, I’m going to try posting more often. See the photo below and comment. I thought the new, monthly format would work nicely, but how could I ignore the 2024 Olympics in Paris, France? Be still, my heart!

We’ll always have Paris!
Janelle Meraz Hooper

Yesterday, Paris, the Queen of Beauty and the cradle of culture, spread her arms wide and welcomed the world. Minutes flew by as she cleverly displayed, one treasure at a time, the many gifts only the magical atmosphere of France could have created. You want art, baby? She showed us her Louvre and the beauty she sheltered from the rest of the (dare I say tawdry?) world. She showed us her creative people like Louis Vuitton who make magic every day and share it with a world desperate for her beauty. Her city, thriving with energy, was alive with people and music.
She mixed it all in with her guest athletes, who came to her, hoping to take a little of her golden glitter back home with them. Gone were the dull, exhausting parades in years past that seemed to go on and on until our eyes blurred. In Paris, the athletes arrived via the River Seine in beautiful boats filled with joyful world citizens. Eager to show the world that they belonged on this beautiful stage that Paris made just for them, they filled the air with their music and laughter. The joyful crowd waved and cheered each boatload with equal enthusiasm.
Thank you, Paris, for this beautiful opening I will remember for the rest of my life. Thanks to you, “We’ll always have Paris,” as Bogart said in Casablanca.
And now, let the games begin. Good luck to all!

I apologize for not being able to credit the photographer for the photo. Maybe it was an internet feed. I did not see a name listed. If the photographer would like to claim this magnificent photograph, I’ll happily correct this error.

There are copies of this Olympic Opening in Paris, 2024. If you missed it, I urge you to watch it. It is truly a work of art. I have fans of film and video following this site, along with writers. I urge you to watch this jewel of creation that will certainly not be equaled in our lifetimes.

Check back, I’m out of time but have more to share with you!

Quote

“How do you want to feel at the end of today? What do you need to do now, so you can feel this way?” James Clear

Books

Movies

Find Me Falling– After a failed comeback album, rock star John Allman escapes to a dreamy Mediterranean island, only to discover that his new cliffside home has an unfortunate notoriety that attracts unwanted visitors and an old flame who IS welcome! Harry Connick Jr., Angie Scott, and other wonderful actors and actresses performing in a beautifully written script. The background music is a huge contributor to the success of the movie. I don’t have any information on Oscar qualification (is it too late?) but this film has Oscars written all over it!
This movie has its genre listed as Romance. Don’t you believe it! It is much more–including the treat of seeing so much of Cypris.

Seemy See my books on www.amazon.com/author/janellehooper