JO. B. CREATIVE

Author & Multi-Disciplinary Artist

Sunday, 1 February 2026

WRITING AN EPIC WESTERN IN THE HEART OF JANE AUSTEN COUNTRY!

WRITING AN EPIC WESTERN TRILOGY

IN THE HEART OF JANE AUSTEN COUNTRY!




                                            JANE AUSTEN IN THE WILD WEST!


Unless you’ve lived under a rock all your life, you’ll know who Jane Austen was. She wrote her novels - mostly about middle class daughters being married off - & died in Hampshire during the late 18th & early 19th centuries. She wrote in her cosy parlour in Chawton Village until her death in Winchester in 1817. I live in Alton, a twenty minute cycle ride from Chawton Cottage, her home. 



I stood in her parlour where a squeaky floorboard warned her of approaching footsteps so she could hurriedly hide her writing.

I rolled my eyes at that - until I considered my own secretive writings of a blood & lust western starring a charismatic, bisexual, fastest gun slinging cowgirl. Not exactly Austen territory. So, I, too, could have used a warning floorboard. Husband turned up in my late twenties and said, “For goodness sake write that damn story!” So I did, & published Alias Jeannie Delaney, Books 1 & 2 on Amazon under my pen name Kit Mackenzie. My other identity, a wild western UK gal, is Kitty Le Roy (also a steampunk pirate). Kitty was my granny and the wild west has been a fascination since my teens. The development of Kitty grew alongside the story. 


  




But back to Chawton Cottage...

I wandered into Jane’s bedroom and was far less fascinated by her writing or samplers on the walls than by the fact that her chamber pot, tucked in a small closet, would still contain her DNA.

I’m no Austen devotee, I'm afraid. 

Two centuries after her death, & long after her novels leapt from page to screen, I can be found half a mile away, editing Book Three of Alias Jeannie Delaney on my laptop.

As a 1960s teenager, I slogged through Pride and Prejudice for my 

O Levels, along with William Golding's Lord of the Flies. I was not delighted. I did well at English Language but flunked English Lit. Austen’s wit may be legendary, but to me the story dragged like a sermon on root vegetables. Yes, I know -  eighteenth-century context, twenty-first-century eyes, stroppy teenage reader. I’m a stroppy granny now. 

My daughter, studying Sense and Sensibility during the 1990s, was lent the video by her grandma. I would have given my right arm to be able to watch Pride and Prejudice during my exams. I might have stood a chance of passing my exam. Only Charles Dance’s Mr Bennet has softened my stance. I watched Pride and Prejudice & Zombies recently. I enjoyed that bonkers film, & I might have passed O Level if that version had been on the syllabus. 





Whatever. I really don’t care now.

Now, about Jane's Bennets - my namesakes without the extra 't'. ..  My great-great-grandfather James Bennett and his cousin John Bennett lived in Hampshire (as my dad said to me: “You’ve returned to your Hampshire roots.”). James & John were well-known cricketers at Jane's time.

They played for Middlesex and at Marylebone in 1805, & their names appear in contemporary sports periodicals. 

Interesting, yes, but what does this have to do with Jane?

Jane & family were keen on cricket. A television film from a few years ago, Becoming Jane, shows her playing cricket in their garden. The surname Bennet & her fondness for cricket got me thinking. A quick Google of “Jane Austen” & “cricket” led me to Fantasy Bob, a cricket enthusiast, & his website.



Bob reckons that Jane was influenced by the cricketing Bennetts. I’ve never proved this, but the timing is right. The Bennett cousins played at Hambledon Cricket Club in Hampshire when Jane was around & where the rules of cricket were established. It’s entirely possible that Jane deliberately or accidentally borrowed the name, dropping the second ‘t’.

It’s a cracking story, & I’m sticking with it. What a thought, that my ancestor James & his cousin John were Jane Austen’s heroes. What a story if I could prove it.

Many of Alton’s roads are named after Austen characters & locations. Our cul-de-sac is Bennet Close, just off Netherfields. People said we were “coming home” when we moved because of my surname. Perhaps they didn’t realise how true that might have been.

To sum up: here are two writers, Jane & me, living two centuries & half a mile apart, writing two radically different visions of womanhood. One with marriage plots & embroidery hoops. The other with guns, grit, & a bisexual cowgirl.

I couldn't find more compelling stories if I tried.




KITTY'S CABIN


Alias Jeannie Delaney Books 1 & 2 

are available as e-novels, 

paperbacks & on Kindle Unlimited.


IF YOU'VE READ & ENJOYED THE TRILOGY SO FAR,  I'D BE INCREDIBLY GRATEFUL IF YOU COULD LEAVE A POSITIVE REVIEW ON AMAZON. 

THANK YOU SO MUCH!





ALIAS JEANNIE DELANEY - THE STORYLINE     

Badass pants-wearing tomboy beauty Jeannie Morgan grows to be a cowgirl & the fastest gun west of the Mississippi. But when she discovers that her sexuality is as fluid as a miner's whiskey & both men & women enjoy her magnificent lovemaking, she feels as though she's been trampled by a cattle stampede. 

She's born in vibrant New Orleans in 1865 and strongly rebels against the upbringing of a Victorian girl. The family head west where she finds her true calling on her Pa's ranch. However, the explosive mix of her looks, her charismatic power, her lethal gun & finally her sexuality go against her & the townsfolk want her out or dead. Preferably dead.


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Monday, 1 December 2025

JO. B. CREATIVE!: MONUMENTAL EDITING & COMMANDING MY CREATIVE EMPIRE!

JO. B. CREATIVE!: MONUMENTAL EDITING & COMMANDING MY CREATIVE EMPIRE!: MONUMENTAL EDITING & COMMANDING MY CREATIVE EMPIRE!                                                   If ya already know me &  my ...
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Sunday, 16 November 2025

ALIAS JEANNIE DELANEY - AN EPIC WESTERN TRILOGY SNEAK PEEK!


ALIAS JEANNIE DELANEY - 
AN EPIC WESTERN TRILOGY
SNEAK PEEK!






Howdy Dear Readers!

Here follow three sample chapters from Books 1 & 2 of my epic western trilogy, Alias Jeannie Delaney. I've also added the images of Jeannie I've created over the years, most of which I've prettied up on Canva & BeFunky, the two graphics sites I use. I've learned computer graphic over the last couple of years, & that's very gratifying! Anyway, I hope you enjoy these. 




1880  
14 years old

The following summer Jeannie and her gang were lounging outside the candy store on the boardwalk. Jeannie, Mike, Casey and Juan were leaning back against the building’s weatherboarding, their legs outstretched. Ambrose and Chuck were reclining against the street railings. Hat brims were pulled down low. Between sucks on penny candies, they were puffing on cigarettes, and smoke lazily curled upward. Casey tapped ash onto the boardwalk, blew a cloud of smoke from between smiling lips and lifted his hat brim. He whipped his fringe from his face and grinned at Ambrose.
    “So, Ambrose, how’d ya manage t’get hold o’ these smokes, huh?”
    Ambrose grinned back. “Easy. My Pa had several packs in the parlour. Didn’t think he’d miss a pack.”
    They all chuckled, drew on their cigarettes and Ambrose sucked in his cheeks and pursed his lips. He coughed and put his fist to his mouth. Mike frowned at him. 
    “You all right?”
    “Tryin’ t’make smoke circles.”
    The others laughed and tried to follow suit. Jeannie gave a broad grin. “Ah know how ya supposed t’do it. Frank showed me.”
    Mike stared at her. “Did he?”
    “Sure did.”
    Casey turned to face her. “Go on then, do it.”
    “Right, ya suck in a mouthful of smoke, press yer tongue against the bottom of yer mouth, pretend t’suck a lollipop, like this …” She sucked her cheeks and lips in. “Open yer mouth to form an O, click yer lower jaw forward and blow.” But when she tried she ended up coughing crazily, her hand to her mouth, her face red. “Practice makes perfect, huh?” she managed to wheeze.
    The boys laughed out loud. There followed a long pause.
    Casey gazed at her. “Uh … Jeannie … don’t ever change, huh?” He scratched his head in embarrassment. Jeannie pushed her hat brim off her face and grinned at him. 
    “What? Huh? What ya goin’ on about, Casey Simmons?”
    “Well, you’re nearly fifteen, an’ most gals your age are learnin’ domestics an’ talkin’ about what they look like n’ worryin’ ’bout findin’ men. They ain’t excitin’. Not much fun. You cain’t make a real pal outta most gals.”
    She grinned at him and Casey’s nose creased in contempt. “Try talkin’ t’most gals our age an’ whaddya get? Blushes an’ giggles an’ lil’ itsy bitsy chitchat. Yuk!” He flung his head back against the wall, his fringe flying, and banged his skull. Cursing, he gave it a rub and yanked his hat down over his eyes.
    Jeannie chuckled and her eyes sparkled. 
    “Why, Ah thank ye, Casey Simmons … Ah think.”
    Casey lifted his hat brim again and regarded her. He adored her. She fitted his criteria of a how a girl should be. He broke his contemplation. 
    “Looked in a mirror lately?’”
    The others spluttered with laughter and grinned. They gazed at her. Chuck raised an eyebrow. 
    “Yeah – have ya?”
    She sat bolt upright, and her widened eyes fixed upon Chuck. 
    “Now why should Ah be wantin’ t’do that? Ain’t Ah s’posed t’be the kinda gal who don’t indulge in such antics, huh?”
    Her intent gaze discomfited Chuck, and he turned away, blushing. He distractedly drew on his cigarette and blew smoke. 
    “Wal, maybe you should look in a mirror. You’re growin’ up, Jeannie Morgan, an’ it’s showin’. An’ you’re amazingly beautiful for a kid.”
    Mike gazed absently into the distance and nodded. 
    “He’s right. You are.”
    “Thankee.



A Year Later...


Buck Webster perched on his ladder, was polishing his gun store window and humming. He puffed on the glass then rubbed the misted area. The doorbell jangled and Jeannie walked in, accompanied by a waft of cool air. The floorboards creaked. She wore a man’s shirt and tight trousers, and her sexuality was beginning to take hold. Webster’s tune ceased, his throat jumped. She leaned against his counter, crossed her ankles and cast her paralytic gaze at him. His nerves twitched. She grinned. “Nice winders, Mr Webster.” He cleared his throat. “Thank you, Jeannie. How can I help you?”

He stepped down from his ladder and smiled. She swept a critical gaze over the glass display case beneath the counter.

“Ah need a gun.” She would be partaking in the next drive, and gun ownership was a necessity. “Uh-huh? What type?”

Webster swung behind his counter and gestured at his display of revolvers under the glass. “Plenty here.” A roll of black velvet lay to one side on the counter. He unrolled it, smoothed it out, and removed a selection of weapons laying them carefully on the velvet. He took a breath and indicated the first revolver.

“This here’s a .36 calibre Navy Colt. Used widely during the Civil War.” “Yup. Know about that. Read about it.” “Okay. Well … this one’s a Derringer, a single-shot weapon.” “Yup. Know about that. Aunt Martha carries one.” He pointed at a long-barrelled revolver. “And that’s the single-action Buntline Special with its 12-inch barrel.” She pointed at the next revolver and her eyes sparkled.

“Is that what I think it is?” “This is the Colt .45 Peacemaker. It’s a single-action revolver used by the army. A solid six-shot. Very popular. That’s a walnut grip—” “Ah know. I’ve read an’ heard a lot about it, too.” Her cool exterior belied hidden excitement. Her gaze weaved from one weapon to the other, observing the finely crafted workmanship, the smooth metals, the attention to detail. Her gaze contemplated. She bit her lower lip in thought. She lingered over the Colt, hesitated, then picked it up and studied it. She balanced it on a finger, then, firmly holding the grip in both hands at arm’s length, lowered it to look along the barrel through the sight, one eye shut. She put it down and picked up the Navy Colt. Mike’s pistol was a Navy Colt and she’d used that. She repeated her inspection. She returned to the Peacemaker and picked it up again. She held the barrel briefly in her left hand then, right finger looped through the trigger guard, smoothly, quickly, twirled it. Webster gaped.

“Jees …” “Got a holster for it?”

She held the weapon possessively, turning it over, studying it. Webster rummaged beneath his counter and withdrew a tooled, tanned belt. It hung invitingly between his hands but she restrained herself from grabbing it. He smiled.

“This is about your size, but it’ll cost you a month’s wages.” She cast him a penetrating gaze, her eyes deeply hooded.

“Ah bin savin’.” She slung it around her hips and buckled up. The engraved brass buckle glinted. She slotted the Colt into the holster, withdrew the gun, spun it, and rehoused it with dexterity. Webster’s eyes rounded on her flexing hand. She adopted her cockeyed grin.

“Bin practisin’.” “I can see that. Want more? On ma gun range out back?” “Uh-huh.” Webster produced a box of cartridges from a drawer, then led the way through the rear door into the back yard. A row of six previously holed cans stood on posts, ready for her signature. She slid the Colt from the holster, and, using both hands, thumbed the loading gate open, cocked the hammer two clicks and spun the cylinder. She grinned. Smooth. Feels good. She loaded a bullet into each of the six chambers, thumbed the gate closed and flipped her jacket out of the way. She parted her feet and relaxed her arms at her sides. Webster stood back. She drew, fired with slightly bent knees, first thumb busting three shots then fanning the final three. Exploding cans clattered into the dirt. Webster jerked, blinked. The smell of gunfire permeated the air and the echo died down. His jaw dropped.

“Jesus!” She cleanly spun the weapon into her holster. Webster’s eyes circled. His jaw hung. He turned to face Jeannie’s grin and heavy-lidded eyes. She stood with her weight on one leg, her fingers spread on her hips. He swallowed.

    “Jeannie,” he croaked. “I ain’t never seen no-one that fast, an’ that’s a fact. An’ my guess is that weren’t no fluke. You’s summat, gal, make no mistake.”

    He stood transfixed, shaking his head in astonishment, his gaze bolted to the girl gunslinger. His head shaking, he strode back inside, Jeannie at his rear. He flipped back behind his counter.

    “Guess you’re buyin’ that gun?”     “Sure. Feels good.”     “I could see that.”

    He smiled dryly, his own eyes hooded. The transaction completed, he regarded her.                “Jeannie …”

    She met his gaze. “Uh-huh?”     He lowered his eyes from that relentless gaze. “Be careful, gal.” Her scrutiny turned him pink. “Just be careful, huh?”     “Uh-huh.”     He sighed. “Folks’ll kill me fer sellin’ this to ya!”     She flashed that grin and winked at him, then swaggered out through the door with her acquisition round her hips and a whistle on her lips. Webster might have had misgivings, but his thoughts arose unwittingly: Goddammit – she’s lookin’ good … She strode the sidewalk at ease, loving her new image. Folk paused, gaped, murmured, “Oh, Lord …!” However, their lingering scrutinizing silently admitted her audacity … together with those looks … She could not deny the truth either; they were gazing at her with new dread, and she quelled a chuckle in her belly.









Book 2 - The Outlaw's Return


1887

21 yrs old

Working her way through Colorado.


Girl Gunslinger Gains Reputation

Correspondent Wells Blackburn – April 20th 1887 


'Jeannie Morgan is becoming a familiar name in Colorado. This young woman, a unique individual in many ways, is drifting the west and leading five young male friends who appear to be acting as her protectors – but not in the usual sense of masculine protection. Miss Morgan needs no protection in that respect. The protection she seeks concerns her nature. It is a queer one – she is a woman who has romantic notions for others of her gender as well as those for men.


Her appearance and manner are devastating, and when she enters a room, all eyes are upon her. She equals men in height, and male clothing in the style of a cowboy adorns her with panache. Miss Morgan, unlike the majority of women of the great frontier, is far from ugly or plain. Rather the opposite. She is boyish, slim and athletic, and her piercing pale blue eyes are hypnotic. This woman is – indeed – extraordinary. She clearly possesses warmth, a rollicking humour and a flamboyant manner, but she can just as easily dramatically transform into a frightening coldness. It has been noted by observers that she is competent in the fight, but her phenomenal gun hand – fast and accurate – is sensational. Challenges by intrigued and jealous gunmen threaten her daily – a matter usually ascribed to the male sex. She has been known to kill in self-defence.


Miss Morgan is leaving a trail of jealousy in her wake as a result of her notoriety and her more positive qualities, one of which is her adoration of children, who idolise her in return. As if this were not enough, both men and women develop fancies for her, often unwittingly and beyond their better judgement. Even those who detest her – and there are many – are seduced by her. The woman is a paradox. Her apparent fearlessness instils awe in strong men. No-one quite knows how to handle her, and no-one knows when – and where – she and her boys will turn up.'









ALIAS JEANNIE DELANEY - THE STORYLINE     

Badass pants-wearing tomboy beauty Jeannie Morgan grows to be a cowgirl & the fastest gun west of the Mississippi. But when she discovers that her sexuality is as fluid as a miner's whiskey & both men & women enjoy her magnificent lovemaking, she feels as though she's been trampled by a cattle stampede. 

She's born in vibrant New Orleans in 1865 and strongly rebels against the upbringing of a Victorian girl. The family head west where she finds her true calling on her Pa's ranch. However, the explosive mix of her looks, her charismatic power, her lethal gun & finally her sexuality go against her & the townsfolk want her out or dead. 

How will she survive? Or will those very qualities see her through to a charismatic conclusion?


  Available as e-novel & paperback & on Kindle Unlimited.


IF YOU'VE READ & ENJOYED THE STORY SO FAR, 

I'D BE INCREDIBLY GRATEFUL IF YOU COULD LEAVE A POSITIVE REVIEW ON AMAZON. 

THANK YOU SO MUCH!





                ALIAS JEANNIE DELANEY BOOKS 1 & 2  HAVE APPEARED IN 
                                    THE FOLLOWING BLOGS & ON YOUTUBE:



















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Monday, 3 November 2025

BOOK 3 IS GETTIN' A MIGHTY FINE SHINE!


BOOK 3 IS GETTIN' A MIGHTY FINE SHINE!




The pressure - oh, the pressure! 

First, my loyal readers and fans are waiting patiently for Book 3 of Alias Jeannie Delaney. Second, author burnout did my head in this summer and I had to take a month's break. It's in danger of doing my head in again if I'm not careful. 

Book 3 is taking a while to come to fruition. Mainly because the plot has been laid down over the years, little by little, and today, with PA hubby's help, I'm making more sense of the result. I'm researching and making the plot credible. Lots of detail in which I know most of the facts, but need to be sure, and also change some of the details to fit with the story. Hubby has been checking chapters, and the timeline events in the latest chapter is downright tricky. The question of what happens when, how and with whom (who!). Weaving factual detail into your fictional story is a challenge, to say the least. 

The current part, and a fundamental component of the plot, concerns horse and cattle ranching - not something I'm particularly interested in. That might surprise readers because the story revolves around that in this last book, but ranching is something Jeannie grows up with and ultimately she becomes a powerful rancher. 

When I began writing the story, I had to work out where Jeannie is born and what year. I juggled around in my head for solutions that would both fit the storyline and was credible. I ended up in New Orleans in the summer of 1865, at the end of the American Civil War. 






I'm fascinated by the wild west (duh) but not the war. Jeannie is born after the war, so I had to research that period. Funnily enough, because I'm writing it in connection with my story, and the facts fitted, I was okay with researching it and actually became kind of interested. The same applies to ranching. Not that I want to become an American Civil War reenactor or a dude ranch visitor. I wouldn't go that far. 

I first conceived the story line as a teenager during the late sixties, when I was disgruntled over the lack or complete absence of female role models in westerns back then. I daydreamed Jeannie before I went to sleep. So exciting! The story was written - thrown down almost - on and off over the years after my kids were born in 1985 and '88, without a lot of thought. Now I'm facing up to the nitty gritty of facts, and not necessarily what I envisaged originally. So I'm having to double check facts. As hubby said, if your facts are not factual, you'll lose credibility. One particular chapter needs a rewrite. Dammit! Just as I thought all was going well. The danger, however, is reaching for  perfectionism, which I'm prone to doing. That's the way to madness, as husband keeps telling me. 

After the first professional (my editor) assured me that the story and my writing were 24 carat, I came down from the ceiling, hired a cover designer (Jeannie doesn't look like my Jeannie, but I was persuaded that readers don't tend to think about that) we launched Alias Jeannie Delaney - Book 1 - Go West, Girl! on Amazon during the summer of 2023. The following summer we launched Book 2 - The Outlaw's Return. Considering the story is such a niche subject, I've done extremely well, accruing over 1410 readers and approaching fifty 5* reviews and ratings on Amazon. We'd planned to launch Book 3 this summer, but author burnout struck, so tough! I took a month off and we're aiming for a spring release in 2026. 

Meanwhile hubby has been navigating the jungle that is Amazon advertising. He worked on Facebook advertising before this, but 
times have changed and AI arrived. Both Amazon and Facebook author advertising have recently gone through the mill. Both of them have encountered difficulties because of the sheer number of authors requiring promotion, plus the introduction of AI has created further issues. Oh, it's a minefield out there...





THE AUTHOR & HER PA HUSBAND









If you enjoy these stories, 
you might like Alias Jeannie Delaney!


ALIAS JEANNIE DELANEY - THE STORYLINE     

Dynamic pants-wearing cowgirl Jeannie Morgan is the fastest gun west of the Mississippi, but when she discovers that her sexuality is as fluid as a miner's whiskey & both men & women enjoy her magnificent lovemaking, she feels as though she's been trampled by a cattle stampede. 

She's born in vibrant New Orleans in 1865 and strongly rebels against the upbringing of a Victorian girl. The family head west where she finds her true calling on her Pa's ranch. However, the explosive combination of her tomboy beauty, her powerful persona and her lethal gun go against her and people want her out or dead. 

How will she survive? Will she survive? Or will those very qualities see her through to a charismatic conclusion?


IF YOU'VE READ & ENJOYED THE STORY SO FAR, I'D BE INCREDIBLY GRATEFUL IF YOU COULD LEAVE A POSITIVE REVIEW ON AMAZON. THANK YOU SO MUCH!





                                                            Alias Jeannie Delaney - 
                                                   Book 1 - Go West, Girl!
                                                   Book 2 - The Outlaw's Return

      Available as e-novel & paperback & on Kindle Unlimited.




                 MY ORIGINAL DRAWINGS OF JEANNIE






CHAPTER SAMPLE BOOK 1 - GO WEST, GIRL!



CHAPTER SAMPLE BOOK 2 - THE OUTLAW'S RETURN





                ALIAS JEANNIE DELANEY BOOKS 1 & 2  HAVE APPEARED IN 
                                           THE FOLLOWING BLOGS & ON YOUTUBE:























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