Review: Showdown at Yellowstone River, by Angelia Sparrow and Naomi Brooks
#31: Showdown at Yellowstone River by Angelia Sparrow and Naomi Brooks:
In the late 1970s and early 80s, a rash of cheap pulp Westerns sprung up like sagebrush in Wyoming, and the cover of nearly every paperback featured the same set of elements in one form or another: a flinty-eyed gunslinger (mustache optional), a rearing horse, some flames, and a doe-eyed damsel in a stage of undress that necessitates hiding her unmentionables with either a flimsy nightgown, a flimsy men’s shirt or a random piece of torn and flimsy cloth. One enterprising book in my collection features the woman doe-eyed in a bathtub, unmentionables covered in bubbles, despite the fact that when I read the book, I could locate no bathtub and nary a single bubble.
Generally, the interiors of these slim volumes consistently provided two things: one, a historically accurate small-town being terrorized (by such notable villains as cattle rustlers, cattle, evil Civil War veterans, unscrupulous bankers and in one memorable case, President Chester A. Arthur), and two, copious amounts of bodice-ripping.
Synopsis: The above is a quote from my review of the book, because the book itself didn't really lend itself to quoting. Or reading.
My review's up over at Three Dollar Bill Reviews.
In the late 1970s and early 80s, a rash of cheap pulp Westerns sprung up like sagebrush in Wyoming, and the cover of nearly every paperback featured the same set of elements in one form or another: a flinty-eyed gunslinger (mustache optional), a rearing horse, some flames, and a doe-eyed damsel in a stage of undress that necessitates hiding her unmentionables with either a flimsy nightgown, a flimsy men’s shirt or a random piece of torn and flimsy cloth. One enterprising book in my collection features the woman doe-eyed in a bathtub, unmentionables covered in bubbles, despite the fact that when I read the book, I could locate no bathtub and nary a single bubble.
Generally, the interiors of these slim volumes consistently provided two things: one, a historically accurate small-town being terrorized (by such notable villains as cattle rustlers, cattle, evil Civil War veterans, unscrupulous bankers and in one memorable case, President Chester A. Arthur), and two, copious amounts of bodice-ripping.
Synopsis: The above is a quote from my review of the book, because the book itself didn't really lend itself to quoting. Or reading.
My review's up over at Three Dollar Bill Reviews.