Below are a few reviews.
From the very first opening
paragraphs, I knew that I would enjoy this book, and I was not
disappointed--fun and enjoyable to the very last page. Gives one a feel for
cowboying in the late 1800s. A number of light humorous tales mixed with a
number of light serious stories.
Rasmus Andreasen risked everything to travel to Utah to build
Zion. But the wild mustangs in the high desert ranges weren't much
interested in religion. Rasmus' bosses figured wild horses for wild people
and sent Rasmus, barely out of his teens, alone with a trainload of wild
horses into the thick of Mormon-hating Missouri where the Extermination
Order was still in full force. Rasmus, Tales of a Utah Cowboy is based on
the adventures of a flesh and blood Mormon cowboy with the audacity to stand
down a mountainous Mormon hater, the wildest mustang, or the flooziest hussy
You can purchase
Resellers, e-mail me at
Rasmus - Tales of a Utah Cowboy is 224 pages and is bound in soft-cover. The price is $9.95 plus shipping.
* * * *
When I felt the coils of my rope pressed into my hand, I ducked and dodged to get clear of the crowd. I’d tussled with Lars like this sometimes, but he wasn’t trying to kill me. Goliath lunged again, and I dropped the loop in front of him. The moonshine had dulled him a bit, and he stepped into it like it was a swimming hole. I leveled the mountain of flesh with a quick jerk of my wrist.
“Okay, cowboy. If you rope her on the first throw, I’ll pay thirty, but if you miss, I get her for twenty.” “Deal!” I shouted with relief. Anyone could see she was worth more than twenty. I popped my whip to get the mustangs moving. When the gray ran past me, I threw out my loop and tripped her. I slipped the halter over her head before she could stand. The crowd murmured their admiration. I remembered what Crocker said and stuffed the thirty bucks into the sack in my pants before I handed over the halter. I had my first sale!
“Why do you have that rope on your shoulder?” April pointed at my lasso. “In case I meet any naughty little girls, and their mamas ask me to tie them up.” “What if you meet a naughty little boy?” “There’s no such thing as a naughty little boy.” I said. “Little boys are curious and full of mischief, but that doesn’t make them naughty.” “Yes, it does.” April was as bold a child as I’ve ever met. But Mrs. Eaton didn’t correct her, so I answered her back. “No, it don’t. Only little girls are naughty. I’m certain of it.” April wasn’t used to being answered, and she stared at me for a little while.
This is the website of Beth Stephenson.
Revised March 2011.
Website design by Shoppe Foreman.