Website of author Beth Stephenson

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Newly Released!
in April 2010 by Shoppe Foreman Publishing:

Cover of Rasmus - Tales of a Utah Cowboy

Below are a few reviews.
You can also read
reviews posted on
my review page.

Tales of a Utah Cowboy shows keen insights into the lives of hard scrabble cowboys. One can't help but believe that she's been there and done that. Keep your eye on this writer. My bet is you'll be hearing from her again.
by Sheldon Russell,
        award-winning author
        of "Dreams to Dust"
        and other western fare.

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.
by Michael T. Hanson
        Professor, Cal Poly
        San Luis Obispo

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 in Joplin.


You can purchase copies of
"Rasmus -
Tales of a Utah Cowboy"
on my promo page.

Resellers, e-mail me at
to purchase copies at a discount.

Rasmus - Tales of a Utah Cowboy is 224 pages and is bound in soft-cover.  The price is $9.95 plus shipping.

*   *   *   *
Following are three tidbits
from my book to give you
a taste to savor:

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.