Folklore/Myths/Legends

Alaska’s Wild Country Mythological Creatures

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My husband and I recently returned from a two-week trip to Alaska and had a truly wonderful time. The many stunning sights didn’t disappoint, as you can imagine. We took several wildlife tours, spotting whales at sea and moose, caribou, dall sheep, and eagles on land. We soaked up as much history and culture as we could, along with plenty of excellent food that had us both returning home a few pounds heavier than when we left.

One thing we got a particular kick out of hearing about from tour guides and even locals was some of the more colorful tall tales and mythological legends particular to the area. I thought it might be fun to share a few with you here today.

Did you know that Alaska has its own version of Bigfoot and Sasquatch? It’s called the Alaskan Hairy Man. Much like their lower forty-eight cousins, these creatures roam the woods and mountain regions– which is literally freezing in the winter – are very elusive, stand considerably taller than a man, and emit odd, unsettling sounds. Stories of this creature are rooted in both Indigenous folklore and modern Alaskan cryptozoology (I had to look up this last word, it means the search for and study of unknown, legendary, or extinct animals whose existence is disputed or unsubstantiated by mainstream science). This creature is “supposedly” the reason the Nantiinaq fishing village of Port Chatham on the Kenai Peninsula was abandoned in the 1950s. They are also associated with the Alaskan Triangle, an area much like the Bermuda Triangle where there have been numerous unexplained disappearances and strange events.

There is another notorious creature by the name of Qalupalik that lives in the water and wears a traditional parka or amauti. It’s known for snatching children who wander away from their parents, then tucks them under the parka hood and carries them under the ice, never to be seen again. Yikes! I wonder if this tale wasn’t invented to purposely scare youngsters into behaving, kind of like the old European fairy tales such as Hanzel and Gretel.

One of the lesser known and malevolent mythological animals that also has its origins in Indigenous traditions across northern regions including Canada is called the Keelut. This oily, hairless, black animal resembles a dog and is reputed to travel between physical and spiritual worlds. Like the Alaskan Hairy Man and Qalupalik, the Keelut is solitary and stalks those who wander away from the beaten path. It is also said to be a symbol representing the harshness and perils of the northern wilderness, which sounds a whole lot better than harming people.

Well, if I scared you, I surely didn’t mean to. These mythical creatures and the stories of their unnerving habits are fascinating. I suppose they’re the result of early man or the first white explorers attempting to explain things that made no sense. I can certainly understand that in a place such as Alaska. If ever I visited somewhere filled with beauty and mystery and that defied logic it was there.

How about you? Have you ever visited our northern most state and if yes, what stood out to you the most?

The Convict’s Courtship–Kylee Woodley–and a giveaway

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Smuggled in a Miner’s Pocket: The Cornish Roots of the Tommy Knocker

“What a tall tale… Tommy Knockers are Cornish, not French.”

“Maybe the Cornish miners smuggled them in.”

— From The Convict’s Courtship by KyLee Woodley

With St. Patrick’s Day just behind us and this “outlaw-ish” clean romance now available, it seems appropriate to share a bit about the Leprechaun’s cousin: the Tommy Knocker. These creatures are a fascinating part of the history and setting of my latest book.

The Migration of the “Cousin Jacks”


(Underground in the Gould and Curry Mine 1867. Timothy O’Sullivan photo)

In the 19th century, highly skilled hard-rock miners emigrated from Cornwall, England, to mining towns across the globe. Many settled in the American West, including the famous Comstock Lode in Nevada—the very setting of The Convict’s Courtship—where work was plentiful for those who knew the earth.

These men were known as “Cousin Jacks,” a term coined because they always seemed to have a cousin back home in need of work. The migration of these Europeans was so vast that between the 1860s and 1870s, the Cornish population in Nevada went from nearly none to over 1,000 in the 1870 census.

But they brought more than just their expertise in drilling; they brought their superstitions. Tucked away in their pockets (metaphorically, of course) were stories of mystical little creatures, much like an elf or a gnome, that haunted the deep places of the world. In the West, these spirits became known as Tommy Knockers.

The Ritual of the Pasty


(The Cornish Pasty, Cornwall Vintage History & Recipe Postcard C56 | eBay UK)

Life underground was dangerous, and the Tommy Knockers were said to be the ones in control of a miner’s fate. To keep these “little minions” happy, miners practiced specific rituals, like leaving behind a portion of their lunch—usually a piece of a Cornish Pasty.

These meat pies were folded in half with the edges pinched together into a thick crust. This “miner’s handle” allowed them to eat with dirty hands and discard the soiled crust afterward. While Cornish immigrants were almost entirely men—unlike many other groups who arrived in family units—this ritual connected the lonely miner to his homeland and his ancestors.

Protectors or Pests?

What exactly were these creatures? While some modern theorists believe the “knocking” sounds were simply the results of rock crumbling or timbers cracking under the weight of a pending cave-in, the miners saw it differently.

According to the Exeter Institute of Cornish Studies, “initial phases of belief [show] knockers led worthy miners to valuable ore, warned of danger, and punished those who angered them.” Many believed they provided a life-saving service by knocking on the tunnel walls just before a collapse. Because of this, some viewed them as good luck, while others feared their power to cause the very cave-ins they warned against.

The Folklore Connection


(In the evening, the seven Dwarfs came back.

These illustrations came from: Grimm, Jacob and Wilhelm. The Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm. Mrs. Edgar Lucas, translator. Arthur Rackham, illustrator. London: Constable & Company Ltd, 1909.)

There is even a link to the classic fairy tales we know today. While the Grimm tales are German and Tommy Knockers are Cornish, they share the same “Old World” root: the belief that the earth is alive and inhabited by subterranean spirits. In the 19th century, miners from across Europe (German, Welsh, and Cornish) shared stories in the bunkhouses, likely blending the “Knocker” with the German “Kobold” or “Dwarf.”

A Legacy in the Dark

Whether they were seen as dwarves—perhaps even distant relatives to the legendary Seven Dwarfs—or restless spirits lurking in the shadows, the Tommy Knocker became a staple of the immigrant West. For the man working a mile underground, the Tommy Knocker wasn’t just a story; it was a companion in the dark, a reminder of the roots he left behind, and a way to make sense of the dangers of the deep.

WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE FAIRY TALE GROWING UP?

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THE CONVICTS COURTSHIP

Outlaw Hearts book 3

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A remote mining town, an aspiring journalist, and the reformed convict who saves her life.

When Clara Alexander returned from finishing school to Virginia City she had two goals: to become a reporter and make peace with the father who betrayed her mother. But even in the West, there is no room for her in the newsroom or in the family her father made when he married his mistress. Clara is forced to take desperate measures to prove her worth to an editor—including a reckless venture into a dangerous mine shaft.

Reformed convict Beau Vulpe lives a quiet life of obscurity in a remote mining town in Nevada. When he rescues a beautiful woman from a sweltering mine shaft, he’s welcomed into her home as a hero, only to discover that they are the same family he deeply wronged the summer before. Now, with winter’s grip choking the mountain town and rumors of mines going bust, he is forced to stay, praying Clara won’t discover the truth before the spring thaw.

As Clara pursues her dreams of writing for the renowned Territorial Enterprise, she continually crosses paths with the mysterious Frenchman who saved her life and is drawn to him a little more with each interaction. Beau finds himself not only falling for the lovely lady but befriending her family as well. Can he protect his freedom and atone for his wrongs without losing his heart in the process? And what about Clara—will her attraction toward Beau Vulpe lead to the disappointment her mother warned her about?

Author Bio: KyLee Woodley is a cheery romantic who loves to write about bygone days and heartwarming romance with a pinch of adventure. She teaches preschool at a lab school in Texas, where she lives with her husband of eighteen years and their three teenage children. On weekends, KyLee cohosts and produces the Historical Bookworm Show, a steadily growing author interview podcast for history lovers and readers of historical fiction.

In her spare time, she cares for a rescue dog named Lucky, a feisty feline named Hazel, and two adorable Boston Terrier puppies. She listens to contemporary Christian, country, and early?2000s rock, visits bookstores and coffee shops with her teens, and watches adventure movies with her husband, who might resemble Superman.

Author Links:

 https://www.facebook.com/WoodleyWrites 

https://twitter.com/KyLeeWoodley  

https://www.instagram.com/kylee.woodley.writes/ 

https://www.pinterest.com/kypins13/  

Podcast: https://historicalbookworm.com/?page_id=41  

Personal Website:  https://kyleewoodley.com/ 

Wearing of the Green

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Linda Broday here. Hey, are you wearing green? Do you know why you’re supposed to? I grew up totally ignorant of the reason. I just knew I didn’t want to be pinched by the boys at school. I did know the holiday originated in Ireland and the Irish immigrants brought it to America but little else.

How about you?

Here’s the scoop. We celebrate to honor Ireland’s patron saint, St. Patrick who brought Christianity to Ireland in the 5th century.

But back up a minute. Patrick was abducted at the age of sixteen and brought to the Emerald Isle as a slave. He escaped and later returned to convert the Irish to Christianity. He used the three leaves of a shamrock, which grows wild in Ireland, to represent the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost with the stem uniting all three.

That’s something I did not know.

But the Irish got on board with him and turned from paganism, which was a good thing.

Still, why is green worn?

Seems the custom is due to political origins that go back to the Great Irish Rebellion in 1641.This uprising was due to the Catholic leaders opposing the English crown and they adopted a green flag with a harp on it. Green also reappeared during the Irish Rebellion of 1798.

Yet, I wondered why it’s customary to pinch someone failing to wear green. The answer is folklore. Green is supposed to make you invisible to leprechauns. They can see those wearing different colors so the mischievous little things pinch them. It’s a lighthearted belief to inspire us to wear green. Boys especially love to pinch.

Today, St. Patrick’s Day has evolved into a global celebration. There are parades and other festivities meant to highlight Irish culture and nurture community spirit and pride. And to eliminate discrimination, which is always a good thing.

We celebrate with green beer, various clothing and hats, and the Chicago River is dyed green, among other ways we celebrate.

But in Ireland, it’s still a religious holiday and continue to pay tribute to St. Patrick. By the way, he established many, many monasteries, churches, and schools before he died on March 17, 461.

In all my 50+ published books, I’ve never written any around St. Patrick’s Day. Maybe I should remedy that. Who knows what will inspire me?

Do you do anything to celebrate? Maybe eat the traditional meal of corned beef and cabbage or wear green? I’ll give away a $10 Amazon gift card in a drawing from the commenters.

Common Scams in the Old West

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Recently, a friend of mine was complaining about the number of scams she’s hit with on daily basis. I doubt there’s anyone who can say they don’t regularly receive suspicious phone calls from someone claiming to be with the IRS or emails from foreign “multi-millionaires” wanting to share their fortune with us. All we need to do is provide these people with our personal banking information which will either erase our debt or make us rich.

While these particular scams are relatively recent, deceiving people out of their hard-earned money has been around for centuries, if not since the dawn of civilization. What’s the old saying? If you believe that, I have a bridge in Brooklyn I can sell you.

Scams in the old West were no exception and abounded. Who hasn’t heard of The Lost Dutchman’s Mine—a popular legend here in Arizona where I live? One of the reasons the unproven story of the mine’s existence (to this day at least) gained such traction is because industrious scammers drew up and printed fake maps which they then sold to unsuspecting and gullible fortune hunters. Not only were wannabe prospectors sent on wild goose chases, many, sadly, met their deaths.

The Lost Dutchman’s Mine wasn’t the only scam of its kind during the days of gold fever. The practice of selling fake mining claims thrived. A common scheme called “salting” was used to dupe eager individuals looking strike it rich. Ore from a producing mine was scattered over a barren area. The soft ore would embed into the rock and give the appearance of a valuable claim. If done right, these salted areas often passed inspections by assayers but then, after the sale was complete, the poor buyer discovered no gold other than what the unscrupulous seller had scattered about.

Another old West scam was the origin of what eventually became a popular saying that still endures. I can remember my grandmother referring to a local real estate agent as no better than a snake oil salesman. And while she was using the term to refer to con men in general, a snake oil salesman is actually someone who proports to have a miracle cure. One of the first and most renowned snake oil salesmen was Clark Stanley, nicknamed the Rattlesnake King. While he claimed his tonic contained rattlesnake oil, it did not and was completely worthless. On a side note, Chinese laborers who came to the U.S. to work on the railroads did bring snake oil with them as an ancient medicinal treatment, which is likely where old Clark Stanley got the idea.

A different, popular scam along these same lines was the traveling medicine show which, if you think about it, was an early infomercial combining entertainment with hyped up sales techniques. These tonics, like Stanley’s snake oil, were worthless and made from common household items like castor oil, ginger, and alcohol. I did a bit of research, and there were several movies made featuring traveling medicine shows. Here’s just a few oldies but goodies:

Paradise Canyon with John Wayne

Sante Fe Marshal with William Boyd as Hopalong Cassidy

Riders of the Dawn, a musical western (I think I need to see this one)

Prairie Badmen with Buster Crabb

And the scams don’t end there. Really, there are just too many for me to list in detail. Land fraud was abundant with fake deeds being sold to families coming out West and desperate for a fresh start. Even the poor, noble horse, a necessity back then, was often used to separate the naïve and trusting from their money. A young and healthy horse was sold but an old, broken down nag was swapped out. There were crooks who cheated at poker with hidden cards (an Ace up the sleeve) and loaded dice. Gullible people were fleeced by shell games and other slight-of-hand tricks. And lets not forget the psychics who claimed to see the future or speak with deceased loved ones.

Sadly, there will probably always be disreputable individuals who find new and innovative ways to take advantage the easily influenced. The most we can do is be on the lookout. Remember that the next time someone tries to sell you some oceanfront property in Arizona 🙂

Warmest wishes,

Cathy McDavid

P.S. – don’t forget to check out of Facebook Reader Page at:

Petticoats & Pistols FB Readers Group

The Legend of Uncle Sam

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Happy Independence Day! I’m going to share the history behind the term “Uncle Sam” and how it came to be a nickname for the U.S.A.

Believe it or not, Uncle Sam was not a politician, a celebrity, or anything of that nature. He was a regular businessman and worker. As a young man, Samuel joined the Revolutionary Army where his duties included slaughtering and packaging meat for the army. Interestingly enough, it is this same vocation that would later on become his fame.

A descendant of one of the oldest families in Boston, Samuel Wilson and his brother were among the pioneer settlers of the community of Troy, New York. At the young age of 25 and 28, Samuel and his brother were eager and ambitious entrepreneurs. Together their formed several successful businesses, including a brick factory, and a slaughterhouse. Because of his warmth, friendliness, and kindness, the moniker “Uncle Sam” was popularly attributed to him.

During the War of 1812, Wilson associated himself with Elbert Anderson, a government contractor. Together they shipped large quantities of meat and other commodities from Troy to the American forces stationed in various places.

The soldiers from Troy knew that the goods so marked were handled by Samuel Wilson, their Uncle Sam, and jokingly spoke of the meat as “Uncle Sam’s beef.” This expression was quickly adopted by their fellow soldiers and was used by them to designate all property belonging to the United States Government as “Uncle Sam’s.”

The association of Uncle Sam as the United States increased in the 1860’s and 1870’s when a political cartoonist, Thomas Nast, picked it up. It was Nast who gave Sam his white beard and stars-and-stripes suit.

Of course, the most famous depictions of Uncle Sam came from the WW II era. This is when Uncle Sam became the character we know today with the top hat, blue jacket, and pointed finger. This image is thanks to James Montgomery Flagg.

In September of 1961, the United States Congress officially credited Samuel Wilson as the “the progenitor of America’s national symbol of Uncle Sam.”
Samuel Wilson died in 1854 at the age of 88. He is buried next to his wife in Troy, New York, the town that calls itself the Home of Uncle Sam.

 

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Halloween…A Time for Romance?

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Happy October, friends!

Along with ghosts, goblins, and trick-or-treating, I learned Halloween was as much a time for romance as it was for pranks. Who would have thought?

To find love on the night of the dead, demons, witches, and goblins? Um, that’s a little bit concerning, no? Would you go ‘yay’ or be ‘boo-ed’ away by these strange Halloween traditions?

Many old Halloween traditions included fortune telling, and many of those fortune-telling rituals focused on how to learn about your true love. Here are a few Halloween love spells that I found in in my research. Most of these Halloween traditions were popular in the 1800s and later. Each is something that people said you could do on Halloween night to learn of your true love.

If Match.com hasn’t been working for you perhaps you want to try one of these vintage Halloween traditions, or perhaps you will just find them interesting like I did.

Oh, and the idea of seeing my true love as an apparition, as is the hope of many of these rituals, would be disconcerting. These Halloween traditions make me happy I’m not in the market for romance or marriage.

Reflection in the mirror

There are a few versions of a Halloween tradition that results in seeing your true love in a mirror at midnight.

One version says you should go secretly into a room at midnight on Halloween and cut an apple into nine slices. You should eat the apple slices in front of a mirror, holding each slice on the point of knife before eating it. As you do this you will supposedly see the image of your true love over your left shoulder asking for the final apple slice.

Another version says you should eat the apple while holding a candle and looking in the mirror. Then you will see your future husband or wife over your shoulder.

Yet another version says you should comb your hair while eating the apple and looking in the mirror in order to see your future spouse over your shoulder.

The most precarious version says that at midnight you should go down the stairs backwards and holding a mirror, in which you will see your future mate.

I suspect that last one only works if your future mate happens to be the paramedic who responds after your horrible fall from walking down the stairs backwards in the middle of the night.

Burning the nuts

Place two hazelnuts (or some say chestnuts) in a fire after naming each for the people in a couple. If the nuts burn together side by side the relationship will last. But if one of the nuts cracks or jumps out of the fire the couple will split.

Pulling the cabbage

The cabbage’s popularity also made its way into becoming a fortune telling device. One popular method was for a girl to steal a cabbage and then place that cabbage over a door. The first man the cabbage fell on would be the man she was supposed to marry. Women would also pick cabbages and use the stumps to predict information about their future husband.

Making cakes

Fortune telling in cakes has been a tradition for many different holidays. The Irish had their own version called Barmbrack where various objects were baked into bread to tell one’s future relationship status. If a person received a pea, that person would not marry in the upcoming year, a stick would signify an unhappy marriage, and a ring would mean that person would be wed within a year.

The three bowls

Place three bowls in a row. Fill one with clean water and one with dirty water. Leave the third bowl empty. Put the bowls in a random order then lead a man blindfolded to them to dip his left hand in one of the bowls. If he puts his hand in the clean water, he will have a young wife. If he puts his hand in the dirty water, he will end up with an old widow. If he puts his hand in the empty bowl, he will forever be a bachelor. This process should be done three times moving the bowls each time.

 The other end of the yarn

Throw a ball of yarn out the window (or into a pot of water on the stove, depending on the version), and hold onto to the other end. As you wind the yarn back up repeat, “I wind, who holds?” again and again. Before you reach the end of the yarn the face of your love will appear in the window and/or the name of your love will be whispered in your ear.

Making an initial from an apple skin

Here’s another Halloween tradition involving an apple. Pare an apple in one continuous piece of skin without breaking it. Move the skin around your head three times then throw it over your left shoulder. The letter that it forms on the ground is the initial of your future husband or wife.

So, this year when the moon is full and bright, try your hand at a fortune telling delight, you might just find your true love on Halloween night.

Happy Halloween Y’all!

 

My Upcoming Release!!!

Years ago, Lily Sutton was drawn to the new orphan boy in town. Unfortunately, she soon became the unfortunate victim of Grady Walsh’s mischievous deeds in school.
Lily is back home in Harmony, Kansas for good but is she willing and able to forgive the boy who made her childhood unbearable?
Grady Walsh lost his heart to the sweet girl the day she gave him a quilt. Can this boy-turned-man make up for the reckless actions of his youth?
Or will another steal her away before they have a chance to discover a kind of love that might just heal the pain from the past?

Pre-Order Link

 

Kissing Under The Mistletoe

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Hello everyone, Winnie Griggs here.

One of the many signs of the season is the appearance of mistletoe – on the trees, in holiday movies, on Christmas cards and hanging in homes. And being the curious person I am I thought I’d dig a bit into the traditions around this plant and how it became associated with Christmas and with kissing. And I’m going to share a little of what I found out with you today.

The mistletoe’s romantic association can be traced back to ancient times, where it held a special place in various cultures and traditions. The ancient Druids, who inhabited the British Isles, revered mistletoe for its seemingly magical properties. They believed it had the power to bring good fortune, ward off evil spirits, and even bestow fertility upon couples. During the winter solstice celebrations, the Druids would gather mistletoe from sacred oak trees using golden sickles and distribute it among the people, fostering a sense of unity and goodwill.

The mistletoe’s romantic symbolism is also deeply rooted in Norse mythology. According to one of the most popular myths, the goddess Frigg, who was associated with love and fertility, had a son named Balder. Distressed by prophetic dreams of her son’s impending death, Frigg sought a promise from every element in creation not to harm Balder. However, the mischievous Loki discovered that Frigg had overlooked mistletoe, thinking it was too insignificant to pose a threat.

Taking advantage of this, Loki fashioned a weapon from mistletoe and tricked Balder’s blind brother, Hodr, into using it to unintentionally kill Balder. Devastated by her son’s death, Frigg’s tears turned the red berries of the mistletoe white. To honor Balder and symbolize love triumphing over death, Frigg declared that the mistletoe should never again be used to harm but rather as a token of love, leading to the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe as a sign of goodwill and affection.

Fast forward to medieval England, where the mistletoe’s association with love and celebration persisted. As Christmas celebrations evolved and incorporated various customs and rituals, mistletoe found its way into the festivities. The plant’s evergreen nature and ability to thrive in winter contributed to its allure as a symbol of life and renewal during the cold and dark days of winter. During the holiday season, branches of mistletoe would be hung in homes and gathering places, inviting couples to share a kiss underneath. It became a symbol of peace, love, and reconciliation during the Christmas season, fostering a sense of unity and merriment.

The Victorian era, known for its romantic sensibilities and elaborate traditions, saw a resurgence of interest in mistletoe as a symbol of love and romance. As Christmas celebrations became more elaborate and festive, mistletoe found its way into holiday decorations, and kissing under the mistletoe became a cherished custom at Christmas gatherings and balls.

Over time, the mistletoe tradition became widespread, not only in England but also in other European countries and eventually in the United States. Today, mistletoe remains an iconic and enduring symbol of Christmas romance, with couples and revelers continuing to share kisses beneath its branches during the festive season.

Fun Facts and Trivia:

  • There are over 1,300 different species of mistletoe, and not all of them produce the iconic white berries. Some varieties boast vibrant red or yellow berries.
  • In Victorian England, there was a charming custom associated with mistletoe kisses – for each kiss, a berry was plucked from the mistletoe. Once all the berries were gone, the kissing had to cease. This added an element of anticipation and playfulness to the tradition.
  • Mistletoe has made its mark in literature, adding a touch of romance to various works. One notable example is Washington Irving’s “The Sketch Book,” where the author beautifully describes the festive atmosphere surrounding the mistletoe.
  • White berries are toxic, but not poisonous, to humans. But keep your pets away from mistletoe, it’s poisonous to them.
  • Some doctors prescribe mistletoe to cancer patients to help ease side effects from chemotherapy.

So there you have it, my short history of how kissing under the mistletoe became associated with Christmas.

Did you ever receive a kiss under the mistletoe? Do you hang mistletoe in your home as part of your Christmas decor? Leave an answer or comment on this or any thought on other Christmas traditions to be entered in a drawing for a Christmas book and a little surprise.

Quilting Superstitions

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Since my oldest son recently married, I intended to write a post on wedding traditions but as what happens, my plans went awry. The more I wrote, the more it sounded like a high school Home Ec report.

My son and I before his wedding

However, when researching wedding traditions, I discovered single women in the 1800s stressed over whether they would marry. To cope, they relied on parlor games or predictions such as tossing cats into new quilts. That sent me down a rabbit hole to discover how traumatizing poor cats in a quilt could predict a woman wouldn’t be an old maid or reveal her true love. That led me to an article on quilt superstitions and a topic change.

Here are some superstitions I discovered. My comment (because I couldn’t post these without saying something. 🙂 ) follow each superstition.

 

 

Luck:

  • Never make a quilt with 13 blocks
    • I assume it’s because 13 is unlucky. Okay, now I’m wondering how and why 13 was labeled as unlucky. But I’ll save that for another day.
  • If a thread breaks, it will bring misfortune.
    • There should be a warning label on thread because who hasn’t broken a thread while sewing a quilt? And does it bring major misfortune such as a car accident or a minor one like losing a shoe? Come on, be specific about how bad this will be.
  • Stitching a spider web design into a quilt will bring good luck. Because a spider web is so easy to work into every quilt design.
    • First, a four-leaf clover or horseshoe, for luck I could see. But a spider web? Second, I never remember seeing one in anything but Halloween quilts. The solution to that is to sew a small one in somewhere, but I’m not that talented. ? I guess whoever I give future quilts will have to add one or do without the extra good luck until I figure out how to sew one. Either that or I have apologies to make.
  • It’s bad luck to give away your first quilt.
    • This would’ve been nice to know before I gave my first quilt to my son. However, since that quilt stayed in my stayed in my house, maybe I didn’t get too much bad luck for that.
The first quilt I made which I gave to my oldest son.

Marriage:

  • When a new quilt is finished, the first woman it is thrown over will marry first. Wrapping her in it will ensure she marries within a year.
    • I’m wondering if throwing the quilt over is different than wrapping her up in it, or if one superstition is simply more specific.
  • Wedding quilts should have borders of continuous vines or ribbon patterns because a broken border means the marriage will be broken too.
    • I must be an awful person because my first thought here was, if someone didn’t like who their child was marrying, they could give the couple a quilt with a broken border.
  • If a single female puts the last stitch in a quilt, she will become an old maid.
    • This superstition was easy to avoid when quilting bees or circles were prevalent, but what’s a gal to do now, call a married friend or relative to put in the last stitch?
  • After taking a quilt off the frame, wrapping it around an unmarried woman will give her luck to find a husband. Throwing it at the first single man she sees, will “charmed” him into a relationship. If a young lady shakes a new quilt out the door, the first man who comes through the door will be her future husband.
    • From the little research I did, I discovered there was a lot of quilt shaking and throwing them at folks in the past, making me wonder if there are other superstitions to uncover. But apparently they had to be newly completed quilts. Which spurns me to wonder why they had to be new…

 

My bff made this beautiful quilt for me.

Miscellaneous:

  • If you sew on a Sunday, you will have to pull out those stitches with your nose when you get to heaven.
    • First, with the way heaven is described in the Bible, I find it hard to believe God would punish a quilter this way upon arrival. Second, how would I pull out stitches with my nose?! Guess I’ll learn that should I be blessed enough to get to the Pearly Gates.
  • Quilts started on Friday will never be finished.
    • Again, why would this be worse than starting on any other day, except Sunday of course. ?

And finally, Cats and quilts and the answer to the question that started this.

  • If women stand in a circle and “shake up a cat” in new quilt, the one the feline runs toward will be the first to marry.

Giveaway:

To be entered in my random drawing for an ebook version of my Pink Pistol Sisterhood novel, Aiming for His Heart, leave a comment about quilting, superstitions, or whatever’s on your mind.

 

NIGHT THUNDER’S BRIDE — Another Blog and Another Chance to Win an E-book

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Howdy!

And welcome to another terrific Tuesday!  Yay!

Well, you get me for two days back-to-back this week.  But, this does give one the opportunity to win another e-book because once again, I’ll be giving away a free e-book to one of the bloggers.

So, yesterday, I left a short blurb for the book and then the opening pages of the book.  Today, I thought I’d post the full back blurb for the book, another excerpt from the book and a game called, “Go find it,” in the excerpt.

But, before I do that, I thought I’d tell you a little bit of the backstory about this book.  I had started working with the Blackfeet on a literacy project and I was getting to know the Blackfeet a little better.  Some of what I was learning about these people is in this book i.e., their sense of humor, their ideas of ghosts and the supernatural, as well as many other facets of their culture.  Also, I was learning firsthand of their undying friendship and their willingness to learn.

To this day, I love going back to the reservation and visiting friends.  And, I should say again how beautiful it is in Blackfeet country.  In my opinion, it is probably the most beautiful place on earth.

And so I will leave you here with another excerpt from the book.  I hope you will enjoy it.

NIGHT THUNDER’S BRIDE by Karen Kay

Blurb:

When lady’s maid Rebecca Cothern journeyed westward, she never thought to leave her mistress’s side. Yet as Katrina Wellington completes her own journey with White Eagle, Rebecca waits at Ft. Union under the protection of Blackfoot warrior, Night Thunder.

Despite what she’s been told about the wild nature of the native tribes, Night Thunder is different. Kind, gentle, honorable to a fault…and handsome in a way that makes her breathless for his next touch.

Though Night Thunder relishes stolen moments with the beautiful white woman, circumstances dictate that he should keep his distance. Until she is stolen away in the night, and he discovers he cannot simply ride into the enemy camp, kill the guilty and sweep her to safety. The thieves are vengeful malcontents from his own tribe, which leaves him only one way to save her from the worst kind of violation.

He must claim that she is his bride. Not only that, she must willingly bare all—heart, soul and body—to claim him as hers.

This is the 25th Year Anniversary Edition of this novel.

Warning: Contains warm, sensual love scenes that are certain to have you reaching for your own true Night Thunder.

And now for the game:

1) Can you find from reading this excerpt what the Blackfeet call the soul or the departed spirit of the person?

2) How many times does the hero mention this word, meaning the departed spirit of a person?

 

So, without further delay, here is the excerpt of NIGHT THUNDER’S BRIDE

 

“Did I hear you correctly? Ghosts?”

“I do not know what this ‘ghosts’ is. I only tell you about the shadow of those who were once living.”

“Ghosts,” Rebecca repeated, saying it more to herself than to her companion. “I don’t believe in ghosts.”

“I do not ask you to believe,” he replied over his shoulder, his intention clearly on keeping pace with the others from their party. Night Thunder had found their companions’ trail easily this morning and had caught up with them, losing little time in doing so. “I am only explaining to you,” he continued, “why there was no trace of the enemy warriors. A great fight must have taken place where we were trapped last night, and those who are still there must have been blinded or had body parts cut off in the fight, for they are unable to find their way to the Sand Hills.”

“But I heard them, I saw them. One cannot see ghosts.” Rebecca frowned. “And what do you mean, body parts cut off?”

Night Thunder didn’t answer right away. Instead, he kept his stride on a par with the others, not even glancing over his shoulder to ensure she followed. When he finally did speak, she had to strain to hear him. “Most people cannot see those who are departed because they no longer have the physical body to identify them. But their shadows can be felt and experienced if one will only let himself be aware of them.”

“But I wasn’t trying to be ‘aware’ of them,” she complained. “And I didn’t feel them. I saw them.”

“Perhaps it was because you were with me.”

“With you, but—”

“Within my family runs the power to see into the future, to change the weather, even to call to the buffalo. And sometimes, there are those of us who can talk to the dead. All these have I been trained to do.”

Rebecca quickened her pace so as to keep stride with Night Thunder. “Trained? What do you mean, ‘trained’?”

“Perhaps ‘trained’ is not the right word. I have long been an…apprentice with our medicine man. And, because a medicine man must at times talk to the dead, I have learned to do this.”

“I don’t believe in such things. What are you, a mystic?”

“I do not know what this person is, a ‘mystic,’ and I do not ask you to believe.” He paused and seemed lost in thought, though he quickly picked up his pace. “Still there must be some reason why they chose me to see them, to hear them. Perhaps they are hoping I might discover a way to free them from the spell of those they fought, so their shadows can yet find the Sand Hills.”

“Night Thunder, I—”

“I will have to think on it. There could be is something I can do. Come here now and let us not talk of this again.”

“But what did you mean by being blinded or having body parts cut off? What has this to do with them?”

He stopped and let the others move off away from him as he turned to face her. She froze. Despite the feeling of growing closer to his man, her hero, she felt herself cower from his imposing figure.

“It is a belief of my people that the way in which one departs this world is the same way he must spend the rest of eternity. And so there are those warriors who, after a fight, will blind an opponent or cut off a part of his body, so that his enemy might have to go to the next world so burdened. There are those who, having departed this world with a missing body part, choose not to seek out the next life, but determine to stay in this one, hoping to find someone who might at last be able to reverse the spell.”

Rebecca didn’t utter a word in response to this bit of Indian lore, though she stared hard at the man who had so recently become a large part of her life. She frowned and silently fought a battle within herself to hold back her opinions about such things. It was not her place to pass judgment on the beliefs of another. Still, the concepts of which he spoke were so foreign to her, she found herself wondering about him, and perhaps even more about herself.

Somehow at this moment it didn’t seem real, he didn’t seem real.

“Come,” he spoke to her, turning away from her at the same time. “We are too far behind the others.”

Rebecca allowed him to tread on ahead of her while she stood still, lost in her own thoughts. Ghosts, or “shadows,” as he called them, talking to him, calling to him, asking him to set them free from earthly haunts? Could one really be “trained” to talk to spirits? She didn’t believe in ghosts or spirits; she wouldn’t believe. Yet didn’t her own Irish heritage have similar tales? Aye. Still, this was too much for her to grasp all at once, and she felt herself growing distant from Night Thunder.

The Indian’s view of life made little sense to her. For instance, no one had made comment upon the fact that both she and Night Thunder had been gone the entire night, something she felt hard pressed to comprehend. In truth, it appeared the Indians, as a people, rarely condemned one for deeds which seemed important to her, yet made much over what to her were trivial matters.

Perhaps she would never understand them.

With the flip of her hand, she shook back her hair and tipped her head to face toward the sun, welcoming the warm rays of the morning. She paused for a moment more, letting the sun settle in upon her as though it might wash away her thoughts. But too soon, she realized she could no longer see the Indians, and, picking up her skirt, she hurried to catch up to Night Thunder and the others.

Well, that’s it for today.  Hope you enjoy the little “game,” as well as the excerpt.  Be sure to leave a comment in order to enter into the drawing for the e-book.

tinyurl.com/y634cs87 — this book is also on KU at Amazon

The Hermit of the Superstition Mountains

by

I have the really good fortune of living not too far from the Superstition Mountains – a range of about 160,000 acres east of Phoenix and north of Mesa and Apache Junction. I mentioned in a previous blog that my next Love Inspired Suspense Mountain Rescue book will be set there. When I first planned this blog, I thought to write about the legend of the Lost Dutchman’s Mine, something which the Superstitions are perhaps most known for. Instead, I decided to tell you a little about another famous legend, that of Elisha Reavis, and one I have much more experience with.

He was known as the hermit of the Supersitions, though, by some newspaper accounts, he was actually quite social and likeable when he came to town to sell his produce. Social, and a little touched in the head as they said in those days. He was born to a well-off family in Illinois and came to Arizona in 1869, abandoning his wife and child. Why exactly no one is sure, but he established a ranch in the heart of the Superstitions at the only location with enough natural water to grow fruits and vegetables. Mind you, he didn’t buy the land, he simply settled there and began to farm it.

Constructing a house and out buildings, digging wells, and bringing in equipment was no small task, considering the remote location of his new home. Not to mention transporting his produce to town for sale. It takes a special person with an incredible amount of determination. There are plenty of wild stories about Elisha, which may or may not be true. He supposedly fought off a band of local Apaches who weren’t happy about him settling on their hunting ground by taking off his clothes and running around naked with a butcher knife. Some thought he had supernatural powers. It’s been said the house contained an impressive library. What is know for sure, he died on the trail, and a small monument now marks the spot.

The legend of Elisha Reavis lives on today in the form of apples. He planted a large orchard that produces an impressive harvest still to this day — depending on weather conditions, of course. I’ve visited Reavis Ranch, as it’s called, many time, riding in on horseback (though you can also hike in if you’re up to it). We used to make several trips each year, always one in the fall to collect bushels of apples. We’d carry out the apples on a packhorse and later turn them into apple sauce, apple pie, and fried apples. One year, we even spent the night in the old abandoned ranch house. I’m glad to have had the chance because, sadly, the house was burned down by vandals some years ago. Only the foundation remains.

There are some incredible views to be had on the Superstition trails to Reavis Ranch that will quite literally take your breath away. Weaver’s Needle is easily recognized by its distinctive shape (check out the first picture at the top of the blog). And if you know where to look, you can also visit ancient Indian ruins and natural springs that create an oasis in the middle of desert mountains. I’ve been to both. But, as often as I’ve ridden the mountains, I’ve never found the Lost Dutchman’s Mine. That’ll be a blog for another day!

Petticoats & Pistols