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I love anything Western: old movies, stories, horses, etc. For many of my teen years my father and I had over 30 head of horses and ran a riding stables. I rode in Western horse shows, racing and contesting.
At 60 years of age I moved from Danville, Il., where I was born, to Benson, Az., about 25 miles from Tombstone. I wanted to write a story of Tombstone from a woman's angle. It's all men, men, men.
I did my research, history, events, people, geography, but I could not find a decent woman fit to be in my book, so I let my imagination take over, thus a Western, Time Travel, Love Story: HALF WAY TO TOMBSTONE was born.
It's the best of times. It's the worst of times. l swore I'd never grow old. Surprise, the 80's have caught me. I often say, "This is not me on the outside. I am inside."
I can hardly believe it. I'm glad to be alive. I have wasted and still waste a lot of time. At 83, dementia looms. The mark of decay is visible. My reactions are slower. My energies elude me, but even so, I often feel full of energy and not at all "old". Perhaps I will make it, more or less intact, for a few more years.
There is only one alternative to getting older and I'm not ready for that.
Sincerely,
Carol Rouse, Author: HALF WAY TO TOMBSTONE
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