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Book Title: JASPER MOUNTAIN
Category: Historical
Website: http://www.kathysteffen.com
Description: Jasper Mountain, Colorado, 1873...Jack Buchanan is desperate to discover why his friends—other miners—are vanishing. When Milena Shabanov, a Romani woman blessed with “the sight,” comes to Jasper, Jack wants to believe her mystic skills can help him, but tragedy has left him without faith or hope.
Author Spotlight: Kathy Steffen
You never know where inspiration will come from, or when it will strike. My favorite quote on the subject of ideas is from Stephen King. “We are writers and we never ask one another where we get our ideas. We know we don’t know.”
The idea for "Jasper Mountain" came from a character from my first book. In "First, There is a River," Gage (a main character) describes his mother as having “the sight” and he insists she could see inside of anyone. Mix that with the rumors that Gage’s mother was a gypsy, he’d been born under the evil eye and his daddy was the devil, and I decided to find out more about this enigmatic woman.
Milena, a Romani (gypsy) began telling me her story. Fascinated by her culture, beliefs, and of course, her psychic and medium abilities, I watched and recorded as even more depth to her story emerged. Like all Romani, she is at heart a traveler, and as I followed her, "Jasper Mountain" began to take shape.
While writing the book, I passed by a psychic shop and saw a deck of “Romani Tarot” cards. I had to get them. One of the cards looked just like I pictured Milena, and the cards and their meanings gave additional insight into the history of the Romani. I found myself looking at the deck often, finding inspiration in the artist’s images.
The Romani are mysterious people who reveal little to nothing about themselves or their culture. Often persecuted and hunted, not welcome many places they go, they keep moving and stay distant from outsiders as a safety precaution. As Milena battles to survive life in an 1870’s mining town, she has more than a few challenges. She is a woman alone in the Old West, her cultural upbringing makes her suspicious of everyone and ironically, everyone suspicious of her. Plus she is psychic—sensitive to Jasper’s inhabitants, aware of the ancient spirit of the mountain, and she connects to those who have passed into the Otherworld of death.
Milena meets Jack Buchanan, an ex-rancher and miner whose recent tragic past has destroyed his faith. He doesn’t believe in anything he can’t see. But he’ll need Milena and her mystic wisdom to help him discover why the inhabitants of Jasper are disappearing.
I do have to agree with Stephen King. I don’t know where writers get their ideas. That’s what makes them like quicksilver, so hard to grasp and pin down. They come from nowhere. And from everywhere. Like Milena, I do believe in the power of things I can’t see.
Especially ideas.
Excerpt
Jack came down the steps, intending to follow the stone path around the house to the front, find his horse, and gallop away. Light spilled out through lace curtains, illuminating the side yard in soft, webbed pools. A perfectly tended side garden glowed in the splashing light. He almost didn’t see her.
Like a wild elfin queen communing with her subjects, Milena sat, circled by plants and flowers. Diffused light barely painted her and the surrounding foliage in muted, silvery tones. Ghostly color emerged from shades of black. She held her eyes closed and her head tilted at an angle as if she listened to whispered secrets. Zebra grass swayed around her, communing with her magic. Purple rain sage flickered at her feet, leaves rustling and shimmering in the moonlight. Her calm beauty ached through him. He did not want to move for fear of disturbing her. If she woke, she’d disappear forever.
Before he knew it was coming, he sighed. Her eyes opened and she jumped to her feet. He hated what he saw constricting her face. Fear. Of him.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said immediately. “I was just coming around to leave.”
She was very real, and very afraid. The pulse in her throat pounded. He’d startled her, sure, but why did he frighten her so thoroughly? What had this woman been through to make her this terrified of him? He watched her steel herself, composure replacing her alarmed expression.
“I won’t hurt you,” he repeated, spreading his hands apart, palms up. He needed to start some conversation. Something meaningless to calm her down. “So what are you doing out here?” What a stupid question. She was doing the same as him. Escaping.
“I come for solitude,” she answered back, her words soft, round, with a tinge of wariness around the edges.
“My apologies for disturbing you, Madame Shabanov.” But, Lord, he wasn’t sorry at all. He didn’t want to leave, or for her to go. He took a step forward and paused. She didn’t run. “You never did finish my reading.”
Her eyes widened and she shook her head. He remembered her butterfly-light touch across his palm. He’d sell his soul to feel the spark of her sizzle through him again. She must be magic. The only explanation that made sense, yet made no damned sense.
He took another step forward, deciding to take the honest approach. “I’ve lost a friend. A good one. He disappeared about a week past. I’ve been looking all over for him and I can’t find him. I’m afraid he’s . . .”
She nodded and sank to the bench. “In the spirit realm?”
“What?” Then he realized what she meant. “Oh, yeah. Dead. It sounds much nicer when you say it.” He nodded to the stone bench. “Do you mind if I join you?”
Her eyes skimmed down to the space by her side and back to him. Her look begged him not to come any closer.
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