frontier

Frontier Forts that Still Speak Today

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For more than three decades I have lived within an hour’s drive of an historic frontier fort, and I never visited until about three weeks ago. Maybe it’s because we have our own historic fort ruins in Abilene (Fort Phantom) that diluted the lure, but the more likely culprit of this oversight is laziness on my part. I started writing a new series set in Albany, Texas, which is just a few miles from the where the fort was located, so when I took a research trip to Albany, I added Fort Griffin on for good measure.

I arrived early in the morning, and basically had the entire fort to myself–perfect conditions for an introverted researcher!

Fort Griffin was established on a high plateau overlooking the Clear Fork of the Brazos in 1867. Most of the structures were little more than temporary “picket” huts and rough frame buildings. Both materials and funds were scarce and the soldiers were so busy protecting area settlers that few improvements were made over the 14 years the fort was in use. Only six of the more than ninety structures in the garrison were built of stone.

The first stop on my tour was the mess hall. When in service, the fort had four mess halls for feeding the enlisted men. Meals generally consisted of beef, bread, and coffee. Not much variety. Sometimes soldiers would supplement their rations by fishing or hunting or by purchasing canned food in the sutler’s store.

Next came the barracks. Such a small space! Cots for four, a small hearth, a couple chairs and some clothes hooks. These huts were constructed from uncured cottonwood lumber and it often warped and split as it dried leaving the buildings drafty, leaky, and cold in the winter.

I moseyed past a few stone chimneys that testified to where the officers’ quarters had stood then made my way to the Sutler’s Store.

Sutlers were civilian merchants who sold goods not provided by the military. Originally, the sutler’s store for Fort Griffin consisted of six buildings, but only remnants of one still stands today. I decided to do a little shopping while there.

This was my favorite discovery! Not much remains other than a few foundation  stones, but here once stood the Fort Griffin Library! They had a collection of over 100 titles. That makes my heart so happy. A much more productive way to pass the time than gambling or drinking. Records indicate that the building was also used occasionally as a chapel and a school.

Next came the administration building. This served as the fort’s headquarters and was one of the largest buildings. The commanding officer and his adjutant would have worked here.

The next stop on my tour was the bakery. This was one of the most substantial buildings on the post, and the one that is in the best shape. Bread was the main staple of the soldiers’ diets, and this bakery produced 800 loaves per day. That’s a lot of bread!

It’s a little hard to read, but they included the 1876 roster of enlisted men assigned to the post bakery. They also included the instructions for making the bread. I could almost smell it baking in the ovens.

The powder magazine was kept on the outskirts of the fort due the explosive nature of its contents. This is where they stored firearms, ammunition, and gunpowder.

As I made my final circle, I passed the place where the laundress would have worked then found myself in the company of some handsome longhorns. Only they were ranging free. No fence between me and those giant horns. Umm . . . I decided to give them a wide berth while still snapping a couple photos.

Fort Griffin was part of the Great Western Cattle Trail from San Antonio to Dodge City, Kansas. Thousands of Texas longhorns passed by the fort from 1876 to 1885. The herd that ranges at Fort Griffin honor that tradition.

The town of Fort Griffin that sprang up outside the military post was considered one of the five wildest towns of the west. Known as “The Flat,” it was filled with soldiers, buffalo hunters, drovers, gamblers, saloon girls, outlaws, merchants, and ranchers. Notorious characters such as Wyatt Earp, John H. “Doc” Holliday, “Bat” Masterson, John Larn, John Selman, “Big Nose” Kate Elder, or “The Poker Queen” Lottie Deno were all known to have walked those streets.

After the railroad came through nearby Albany in 1881, however, the fort closed and the wild town slowly dwindled away.

Do you have historic places near you that you’ve never visited?
Have you ever visited a historic fort?

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

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Howdy!  And welcome to another terrific Tuesday!

Before I get into the subject of the blog today, let me tell you that I will be giving away two (2)  of the original editions — mass market editions as the book was original published — of the book, SOARING EAGLE’S EMBRACE, book #3 in the Legendary Warriors series.  I’ll do a drawing from all you who leave a post on today’s blog.  So, without further ado, let’s have a look at the Iroquois, their festivals and especially their Harvest Festival.

Yummm…  The smells of pumpkin pie, turkey and cranberry sauce reminds me of happy times with family and friends and I hope it does the same with you.  And, this time of year is now upon us.  Now, before I continue this post, let me say a few things about the word, Indian.

At the time Columbus discovered America, the country of India was not called India.  It was known as Hindustan.  And so Columbus’ “mistake” in thinking he was in “India” doesn’t make sense when seen in this light.  Russell Means (Actor and Freedom Fighter) did much research on the word, Indian, and took note that Columbus (Italian) used the words, In Dios, meaning In God, to describe the people he met as a Godly people.  The same words — or words quite similar — are used in Spanish, also,  According to Russell Means, this is most likely where the word came from.

When I was writing about the Iroquois, I did some study and discovered the Iroquois had many festival days each year and one of them…which we all are familiar with …was the Harvest Festival.  If you haven’t seen the movie, Squanto, staring Adam Beach, you might think about getting the video and watch it.  It’s a wonderful movie and goes into detail about the first Thanksgiving.  So, please bear with me as I talk a little about the festivals of the Iroquois (and most of the Eastern Indians, as well).

Thanksgiving was one of several festivals amongst the Eastern Indians. There were many festivals throughout the year, and they tended to follow the seasons.

All the Indians believed in God, the Creator.  And their celebrations were to honor the Creator.  The Iroquois celebrated six festivals, wherein they gave thanks to the Creator for all they had.  These festivals would open with speeches by leaders, teachers, and elders.  And of course there was much dancing, which was done not only for the fun of simply dancing, but it was also a sense of worship.  It was thought that because the Creator needed some sort of amusement, He gave the people dancing.

In spring — early March — it was time to collect together tree bark and sap – this was needed to repair houses and other things, such as canoes, bowls, etc.   Spring was also the time for planting.  This was the maple festival.  Next was the Planting festival.  Here prayers were sent to the Creator to bless their seed.

The Iroquois’ main food source was corn, beans and squash (the three sisters), and of course deer meat or other meat when available.  Family gardens were separated by borders that were broad and grassy — they would even camp on these borders and sometimes they would raise watch towers.

The next festival of the Iroquois was the Strawberry Festival.  This is where the people gave thanks to the Creator for their many fruits (like strawberries).  It was summertime.  The women gathered wild nuts and other foods, while the men hunted, fished and provided various meats for cooking.  Again, each festival was greeted with much dancing and merriment.  Did you know that the Iroquois believed the way to the Creator was paved with strawberries?

The festival after the Strawberry Festival was the Green Corn Festival.  Again, the people thanked the Creator for the bounty of food that had been raised all through the summer.  Dancers danced to please the Creator and musicians sang and beat the drum.  Again there were many speeches to honor the people and the Creator.  There were team sports.  Lacrosse was the game that was most admired and it was played with great abandon by the men.  Women played games, too, and often their games were as competitive as the men’s.

The festival following that was…are you ready?  Thanksgiving — or the Harvest Thanksgiving.  By this time the women had harvested the corn, beans and squash.  Much of it would be dried.  Much went to feed families.  Husks were made into many different items.  Dolls, rugs, mats.  Did you know that the dolls didn’t have faces?  Now was the time to gather more nuts and berries.  Men were busy, too, hunting far away.  Bear, moose, beaver were all sought after and hunted.  Again, there was much celebration.  Dancing, speeches, prayer.  And of course — food.  It was this particular festival that was shared with the newcomers to this continent.

Can you guess what the next festival was?  Although this festival took place around Christmas time, it was not a celebration of Christmas — but if you guessed this, you were very close.  The next and last festival of the year was New Year’s.  At this time, a white dog was sacrificed as a gift to the Creator.  This was also a time for renewing the mind and body.  (Does that not remind you of our New Year’s resolutions?)  At this time, the False Face Society members would wear masks to help others to cleanse themselves of their bad minds and restore only their good minds.  There was again much celebration, much dancing, much merriment and enjoyment as each person would settle in for the long winter ahead of them.

The First Americans indeed did give this country very much, not only its festivals which we still remember to this day, but also it gave to this nation a fighting spirit for freedom.  In these times when there seems to be a forgetfulness about our American roots, it is wonderful to remember that the American Indian and the Love of Freedom went hand-in-hand.  I know I am thankful for my family and my husband and daughters and my granddaughter and grandson.  I’m thankful to be able to travel this beautiful country.  I’m thankful that I was raised in a country where one could voice one’s opinion regardless of the wishes of the “King,” even if those freedoms are not as easily found today as they once were.

Our country is not only beautiful, but it was built on solid beautiful principles.

Well, I’d love to hear your ideas on this post.  Don’t forget: there will be a drawing for the gift of the original version of the mass market book, SOARING EAGLE’ EMBRACE, so please come on in tell me how you and yours celebrate the beautiful holiday we know as Thanksgiving.

This is not the original artwork for the paperback book, but it is what I have for the book that is for sale at Amazon.  This artwork was done when I was publishing the work at Samhain Publishing.

 

 

Del Blancett

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I love learning tidbits from history.

We were at the Pendleton Round-Up over the weekend, and the souvenir program had a lovely article about Dell Blancett.

That name is probably unfamiliar to most people, but his wife’s name was well known in rodeo circles in the early 1900s.

Bertha Kaepernik Blancett was born in 1883 in Ohio. She made history in 1904 by becoming the first woman to ride a bucking horse at Cheyenne Frontier Days. Fashionable and tough, she went on to win the bucking championship at the Pendleton Round-Up in 1911, 1912, and 1914. She become known as the “most famous woman rider in rodeo.” Bertha established the world record for Roman racing in Pendleton, making a quarter mile in eight seconds.

The year was 1909 when she met Dell Blancett, a rodeo steer wrestler who also worked as a trick rider for the Bison Moving Picture Company.

Dell was born in Iowa in a wagon train traveling west from Indiana in January 1883.  His family ended up in Washington state.

The year was 1909 when Dell and Bertha wed. What many people don’t know is that they were a team. She rode as his hazer when he was steer wrestling (a hazer’s job is to keep the steer going in a straight line without touching or assisting the wrestler). Dell was considered one of the best all-around cowboys during the 1910s. He was a world champion bulldogger (steer wrestler), a talented roper, and a rider above average ability. He owned strings of horses he transported all around the West, setting up his headquarters in Pendleton.

 

Dell and Bertha were partners and sweethearts, wowing rodeo crowds with their skill and talent, as well as participating in movies and wild west shows.

With the United States’ entry into World War I looming on the horizon, Dell became one of the men who organized a voluntary cowboy company, the Oregon Troop D Field Artillery. Sadly, he was rejected from serving because of rheumatism. However, that didn’t stop him from finding his way to France and the war. Dell headed to Canada and enlisted in the Canadian Cavalry. He was assigned to the A Squadron of the Lord Strathcona’s Horse (Royal Canadian). The unit was  one of the most elite of Canadian Cavalry units. It had been formed by the Honourable Donald Alexander Smith, later the 1st Baron Strathcona, as a privately organized cavalry unit during the Boer War. It was comprised of cowboys and members of the Northwest Mounted Police.

The company was transferred to France in February 1918. In March, the squadron was pressed into battle against a German offensive. Machine gun fire killed all but 51 members. The last letter Dell wrote was address to Roy Raley of Pendleton (Roy was one of the founders of the Happy Canyon Pageant and the Pendleton Round-Up). The letter included Dell’s riding crop and spurs.

Dell was killed March 30, 1918 at the age of 35. Reportedly, his last words were, “Those German bullets sure hit hard.” The action by Canadian cowboys in the wood was regarded as a principal element in the ultimate Allied victory in November of that year. Dell is buried in Moreuil Woods in France. He was the first Pendleton resident, and first Round-Up star to die in the war.

Bertha never remarried. She retired from rodeo and worked as a stunt woman in Western films starring notable names such as Tom Mix and Hoot Gibson. She traveled across the United States and Europe with the Pawnee Bill’s Wild West show and the 101 Ranch Wild West show. In later years, she served as a guide at Yosemite National Park. She died in 1979, at the age of 95.

One of my recently released books, Molly, takes place during World War I. It’s about an American soldier named Friday and a Hello Girl named Molly who meet in France.

If you haven’t yet read it yet, the story is a sweet and wholesome historical romance filled with hope, faith, courage, and love.

Because I dug deeply into the research for this story, the lives of the Hello Girls came alive for me.

The real Hello Girls were incredibly brave women who opened the door for women in the military. They are also part of the reason the 19th  Amendment was finally passed after World War I, giving women the right to vote.

However, these amazing women were not recognized as veterans for nearly six decades. Right now, efforts are being made to put a bill in place to aware them a Congressional Gold Medal. After reading their stories, I can honestly say they have more than earned it!

We have just a few more weeks to get the legislation through Congress before it dies. The required 67 votes in the Senate have been attained, but 60 additional House Representative sponsors are needed.

Would you consider helping the Hello Girls? It doesn’t cost anything but a moment of your time! (Note: This bill does not require any funding!)

If you are interested, just go to the Hello Girls website, choose your state and district, copy and paste the provided letter, and submit. That is it! With enough people reaching out to their district representatives, it can make an impact. If you know anyone in a government office, ask for them to offer their support, too!

If you’d like to learn more FAQs about the Hello Girls, there’s a handy sheet here.

The Hello Girls have become so dear to my heart, and it would mean so much to their descendants if the Congressional Gold Medal was awarded to them.

What is something “near and dear” to your heart? 

A charity? A sweet story? A special memento or photograph? 

Share your answer for a chance to win an autographed copy of Molly.

Recent Interview & Give-Away

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Howdy!

Welcome to a Thunderous Thursday — Thunderous because we’ve been having so many, many thunder storms where we live.

Anyway, Welcome!

Thought I’d share a recent interview that was done with me by Written Word Media.  My newest book — still considered a new release — was the subject of the interview and I thought I’d share it with you today and also offer you the book as a give-away today for one of you wonderful bloggers.

So, without further ado, here is the interview:

 

What’s the story behind the story? What inspired you to write this book?

This is book #4 in The Medicine Man Series, and the hero in this story was a young boy in book #3.  In book #3 (She Paints My Soul), this young boy of seven showed such courage and knowledge for his age that I wanted him to have his own book…of course he is grown up in this story.

 

If you had to pick theme songs for the main characters of your book, what would they be?

It would be my inspiration for the plot of this story: Pie Jesu.  The song  is so beautiful I had to have a story to go with the song.  In my mind it is this song that the heroine is singing when the hero, Stands Strong first meets her.

 

What’s your favorite genre to read? Is it the same as your favorite genre to write?

It’s the Romance genre in general, although I do prefer Historical Romance.  But I also love to read historical accounts.  And yes, Historical Romance is my favorite genre to write in.  In truth, I am lost in the world of today, not only its lingo, but its mores, I think.  I really do prefer to write about a calmer time, when men were everyday heroes and women were beautiful, kind and had nothing but the enhancement and enriching the lives of their families in mind.

 

What books are on your TBR pile right now?

Mostly I have research books by James Willard Schultz on my list to read.  I find it difficult to read other romance books when I’m writing, and so I content myself with reading historical research books which are not dull in the least.  They are usually full of true life adventure.  Right now I’m reading a Public Domain book by James Willard Schultz entitled RED CROW’S BROTHER — a true story at the turn of the 19th Century (the early 1800’s).  Full of adventure and romance, it keeps me reading when I really should be writing.  I’m also reading An Indian Winter by James Willard Schultz

 

What scene in your book was your favorite to write?

There are several scenes that I loved because they made me giggle, as the hero teases the heroine.  But, probably my favorite scene is the one where Stands Strong (the hero) first meets Czanna (the heroine).  There’s another one, too. This scene, a little further on in the book, has to do to the proposition the heroine gives to the hero of the story, seeking to sway him to her cause of keeping her family safe.  I expected the hero’s reaction to be completely different from what his reaction really was.  I love it when the characters do things I don’t expect.

 

Do you have any quirky writing habits? (lucky mugs, cats on laps, etc.)

Well, I write with music in the background and usually the songs that inspire me are the songs for that particular book.  Also, my feet need to be warm when I write…unfortunately, even in summer.

 

Do you have a motto, quote or philosophy you live by?

I think it would be that kindness to another is more important than anything else in a relationship, be it one’s marriage partner or a friend.  Kindness and generosity are probably more important than any of us realize, I think.

 

If you could choose one thing for readers to remember after reading your book, what would it be?

That people truly in love can work out almost anything if they really want to and if they keep trying.  And also, again, kindness is important.  It was once said by a wise man that it takes real strength of character to be kind.  He who seeks to dominate, who pretends friendship, but who cannot or will not feel the real emotion of empathy and kindness, is not a man at all.  Regardless of his wealth, regardless of his influence, he is a spiritual weakling among real men who have the betterment of his family, his tribe, his nation all humanity and all life always at the forefront of his mind.

Well, that’s all for today.  I’m hoping you’ll leave a comment about one of the questions asked of me…Do you have a mitto, quote or philosophy you life by?

I’ll be giving away an e-book copy of my newest release, SHE BRINGS BEAUTY TO ME.  Although this is a sensuous romance, it is in many aspects a sweet romance.

You can pick up your copy here:

https://tinyurl.com/She-Brings-Beauty-To-Me

Lady Gold Rushers and a Giveaway!

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Hello there! I’m Linda Shenton Machett, and I’m here to talk about Lady Goldrushers!

While visiting my dad, I was in the midst of deciding what to write for my next series. We were watching Gold Rush: Alaska, one of his favorite shows which got me to thinking about the early gold and silver rushes here in America. Research nerd that I am, I immediately pulled out my smart phone and started hunting for information. I stumbled on Joann Levy’s book They Saw the Elephant: Women in the California Gold Rush and was intrigued. Female gold rushers?

Hooked, my mind raced as I continued to research. The book’s title came from the forty-niners themselves who announced they were “going to see the elephant.” Those who turned back claimed they had seen “the elephant’s tracks” or the “elephant’s tail,” and that was enough for them. Filled with first person accounts, Ms. Levy’s book immersed me into a woman’s world of packing up their worldly goods and headed west on horseback or in wagons to seek their fortune. Some convinced their husbands, fathers, or brothers to go, but a large percentage of the women set out on their own. The reasons they went were as numerous as the women themselves.

The US has been home to lots of gold rushes (as well as silver and other precious metals and gems). Most people have heard of the California and Alaskan rushes, but the first rush of any size occurred in northern Georgia two decades before the California rush. In 1829, the tiny town of Dahlonega was overrun with men seeking their fortune after hearing about a find in the mountains. I decided that’s where my series would begin. The series continues with the Pikes Peak rush in 1859, followed by the 1899 Nome rush.

Guts, grit, and determination defined these women whose journals and diaries contained such entries as:

“One of the party shot him {a snake}; he measured nine feet, about as large as my arm a little above the wrist. In the course of the day, another came down the tree very near us, but a different species, not so large, which was very soon dispatched. The gentlemen took them to the village, to show what big things they had done.”

“We spent three days very pleasantly although all were nearly starved for want of wholesome food but you know my stomach is not lined with pink satin, the bristles on the pork, the weavels {sic} in the rice, and worms in the bread did not start me at all.”

But despite the hardships, the women continued to prospect:

“This morning the gold fever raged so high that I went again to dig with the rest but got very little gold…came home tired tonight. Still in good spirits.”

How many women participated in the gold rushes is not known. Most lived anonymously, and left little record behind. I hope in some small way, Gold Rush Hannah honors these stalwart women.

Question for readers: What would make you leave everything you know to travel a great distance to try your hand at prospecting for gold? Comment for your chance to win an ebook edition of Gold Rush Bride Hannah.


Here’s a little more about Gold Rush Bride Hannah:

A brand-new widow, she’s doesn’t need another man in her life. He’s not looking for a wife. But when danger thrusts them together, will they change their minds…and hearts?

Hannah Lauman’s husband has been murdered, but rather than grief, she feels…relief. She decides to remain in Georgia to work their gold claim, but a series of incidents makes it clear someone wants her gone…dead or alive. Is a chance at being a woman of means and independence worth risking her life?

Jess Vogel never breaks a promise, so when he receives a letter from a former platoon mate about being in danger, he drops everything to help his old friend. Unfortunately, he arrives just in time for the funeral. Can he convince the man’s widow he’s there for her protection not for her money?


Purchase Link 

Linda Shenton Matchett writes happily ever after historical Christian fiction about second chances and women who overcome life’s challenges to be better versions of themselves. A native of Baltimore, Maryland, Linda has been scribbling stories since her parents gifted her a notebook in the third grade. She now resides in central New Hampshire where she works as a Human Resources professional and volunteers as a docent and archivist for the Wright Museum of World War II.

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News! News! And a Chance To Win!

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Howdy!  And Good Day!

Hope this blogs finds y’all doing well!

I’m sure many of you know, but am not sure every person on the blog today knows that I am venturing out into the Young Adult field.  The stories are stories of adventure set in the early 1800’s.  There is perhaps a little romance, but these are Young Adult stories and so the emphasis in these stories is about friendship.

 

This is the cover for the new book, and in case you didn’t know this already, I’m writing these stories under the pen name of Genny Cothern.

This is a link to the book:  https://tinyurl.com/Good-Eagle-and-Miss-Starling

The news is that we just published the paperback for the book today — it’s not yet up on the Amazon site, but should be there soon.  We had published the e-book in the latter part of April and after we had published it, it hit #1 on the Young Adult genre.  It was there for only a few days, but they were a great few days for me.  Yay!

But, we now have the book (a novella) of about 135 pages in paperback or 77 pages in ebook format.

So, my give-away today is for this particular e-book or if you are a winner,but want only a book in the Historical Romance genre, you may have your pick.

Leaving a post on the blog automatically enters one into the drawing.

I’ll post a blurb about the story so you can have a look at what the book is about.

THE ADVENTURES OF GOOD EAGLE AND MISS STARLING

Montana, 1847 

When my life is turned upside down, I have no one to turn to except Uncle Jed, a fur-trader who lives deep in Indian Country; a man I have never met.  I was expecting to be greeted by my Uncle Jed at a place called Fort Union, a fur-trading fort some two thousand miles above St. Louis.  But, when I finally arrive at the fort, I am met, instead, by an eighteen-year-old Indian, Good Eagle, who swears my uncle has sent him to meet me.  Would you trust this boy, a youth only two years older than my sixteen years?  I certainly didn’t and I told him so.  However, although I was polite, he took offense.

As the steamboat continues its way to my uncle’s fur-trading post, Fort Lewis, the Indian boy, Good Eagle, has declared that my heart has panther’s claws around it.  Yet, though he seems to dislike me as much as I do him, because of the promise he gave to my uncle, he has no option but to guard me.

But, when my life is threatened and Good Eagle saves me, I experience a change of heart about this young man; I decide I will “bury the hatchet” and become friends with him.  Imagine my surprise when he refuses my offer of friendship.

Can I ever change Good Eagle’s mind about becoming my friend?  Or will his first impression of me remain to forever haunt us?

 

In other news

Have just received the edits back on my latest effort, SHE BRINGS BEAUTY TO ME.  Yay!

We hope to have the new book published within 2-4 weeks (hopefully 2).

Here is a blurb of the new story:

SHE BRINGS BEAUTY TO ME 

A woman deserted.  A troubled warrior.  And time ticking down on a passion denied. 

When eighteen-year-old Czanna Fehér is forced to flee her home in Hungary in 1855, she journeys with her young brother and sister to Montana in search of her cousin. Mourning for her recently deceased parents, she sings her grief to the mountains, little knowing her song draws the attention of an unseen listener.

From the first moment Stands Strong hears Czanna singing, he is transfixed. When he meets her, he is captivated as much by her dark beauty as he is by her voice.

But, tragedy strikes Czanna’s family again when their hired guide has stolen their money and run.  Worse, her father’s servant has gone in search of the scoundrel, leaving Czanna alone, desolate and in charge.  Being of the gentry class in Hungary, Czanna knows she and her family cannot survive without help.  And, when Stands Strong appears before them, bearing food, she realizes she must trust this Indian to be their guide,

Lakota born, though raised by the Blackfeet, Stands Strong comes from a long line of medicine men, but this legacy seems to have skipped over him.  Accepting this, he has become the best scout in his tribe. But, when Czanna attempts to hire Stands Strong as a guide, offering him the “evil gold rock” as payment, he is insulted and suggests marriage to him instead. Czanna refuses him, even though the flame of passion is burning heatedly within their hearts.

Can two people from intensely opposing cultures ever come together?  Or are their star-guided paths meant only to briefly cross?

Warning:  A sensuous romance that might cause a gal to go West in search of love and adventure.

Well, that’s all for today’s blog.  Hope you have enjoyed a peek into these new stories.  By the way, I love these two new covers.  They are of different genres and they each tell a story of sorts on the cover.  Do you have a favorite?  If you do, let me know in your post.

All About Irises

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Hey everyone! Are you enjoying all of the beautiful flowers popping up? I know I am. While I’ve always appreciated a beautiful garden or bed of flowers, it wasn’t until I got older that I grew a whole new appreciation of them. They are an incredible amount of work, and I am very honest in the fact that I’m terrible at it, and I don’t have the time I need to properly care for a garden. I try every year, but I just can’t seem to do it. 

My paternal grandmother loved her garden, and she loved to watch things blossom. Each year, when I go through mine, checking to see what’s blooming (or dying!) I can almost feel her with me, though she’s been gone for many years now. 

Flowers and gardens are so important to people. A single flower can bring back a precious memory, like that of a wedding bouquet or gift from a loved one. I suspect, that’s in part why many of those who settled in the West made sure to bring flower seeds with them. 

My book, Iris, comes out this month, and just about the only thing Iris is good at, is gardening. As I was writing that, I wondered, were there particular types of flowers that were brought West? Obviously not every seed or bulb grows in every place. Did they adapt and become a new variety? We have several irises that were planted before we bought our house, and I enjoy them each year! I think I’d have found their bright specks of color very welcome if I were on the prairie. Look at these, aren’t they stunning? 

 

 

 

Photos from BookBrush

 

It’s obvious that some flowers were also incredibly important to have, for their medical purposes, like evening primrose, horehound, or feverfew, but I bet some of these had sentimental purposes as well! I wonder if the iris had special meaning for anyone.

And speaking of irises, since that’s the title of my book, here are a few fun facts about the iris: 

  • Most pests do not like irises
  • In Greek mythology, wherever Iris stepped, flowers sprang up. 
  • Iris means rainbow, and the bearded iris comes in nearly every color imaginable.
  • The three upright petals on an iris flower stand for faith, wisdom, and valor.
  • Some parts of the iris have been used medicinally
  • Each color of an iris means something different

 

If you’d like to read more about my particular Iris, you can grab a copy of this novella for only .99! 

Here’s the blurb:

Iris is a handful. Liam is in dire need of a wife. But is he that desperate?

Iris Green doesn’t mean to be such a walking disaster. Trouble just seems to find her though, and scares off all would-be suitors in the process. Unbeknown to her, her mother submits her name for a mail-order bride, thinking that’s the only way she’ll ever see her daughter married off.

Liam Gardener thinks it’s a hoot his potential bride has a flower as her name, it’s a perfect match for his last name, so it must be a good sign. However, moments after meeting her, he’s regretting it something awful. Iris comes in like a whirlwind and turns his quiet life upside down, and he’s not sure if he likes that.

When two very different personalities clash, will the outcome blossom into something special or will their future wilt before it even starts?

And here is my lovely cover! Quite iris-y. Is that a word? I think I’ll make it one!

 

You can click here to find it on Amazon.

In the meantime, tell me, do you grow any irises at your house? 

SHE BRINGS BEAUTY TO ME — New Book in Editing Plus Sale! Sale!

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Howdy!

And welcome, welcome to a terrific Tuesday!  Hope y’all are doing well!

Well, today I have some news!  Just typed THE END on my newest effort, SHE BRINGS BEAUTY TO ME.  Deep breath.  Of course it goes into editing now, which is a whole process all on its own.  But, it is a wonderful feeling to type those words at the end of writing a story.  So I’m going to share the cover without the words written on it — this is the full scope of the “painting.”  But it’s such a great cover, I’d like to share it.  

Hope you like it.  Okay so now for the news.  I have two series currently on sale for a short time.  The first is my most recent series, The Medicine Man Series and the second is The Lost Clan series.  All the books in these two series’ are discounted.

So let me give you some details on each series.

Starting last Monday, two of my e-book series’ went on sale:  the first is the entire three e-book Medicine Man series.  The second series is the four e-book series, The Lost Clan.  Both of these series’ are solid historical romance, Native American, but also have more of a paranormal element than what I usually write.  But, I should also say they will only be on sale for a short while.  If you’ve ever wanted to pick up either of these series’, now might be the time.

 

The Medicine Man Series

The Medicine Men: often misunderstood in our world today, these men used their faith in God, the Creator, and the Great Mystery to guide them in helping the people of their tribe.  They had an ethical code they dared not blemish.  It was known to them that if they strayed too far away from the straight and narrow path, they might lose their ability to heal those who were ill or injured.  Black Elk, medicine man of the Lakota and Fools Crows, another medicine man of the Lakota, have told the story of how difficult the narrow path was to keep.  These men never used black magic and shunned those who did.  These men were also beloved by their people and were often as important — or even more important — than the chiefs.  Because of the spiritual nature of these men, these stories, while being solid historical romance, contain more of the paranormal element than my usual stories.

 

The Lost Clan Series

Thunder—you have heard him, he is everywhere. He roars in the mountains, he shouts far out on the prairie. He strikes the high rocks, and they fall to pieces. He hits a tree, and it is broken in slivers. He strikes the people, and they die. He is bad… Yes! Yes! Of all he is most powerful; he is the one most strong. But I have not told you the worst: He sometimes steals women….—- George Bird Grinnell from his book, Blackfoot Lodge Tales

Long ago a Northwestern American Indian Tribe angered the Thunderer because of their greed.  The Thunderer’s children sought to bring peace between their father and the people of the tribe.  However, instead of peace, several warriors killed the Thunderer’s children.

The wrath of the Thunderer was quick and exact, and he would have destroyed all the people within the tribe, had not The Creator intervened.  Instead of death, The Creator decreed that the tribe would live only in the mist in a shadowy existence.  However, He also gave the people a chance to undo the curse.  Thus, within every generation a youth could to be chosen by each band of the tribe to go out into the world and do all he can to try to break the curse.

These stories are about four different young braves who are chosen by their band of the tribe to enter into the real world, and, with their every breath, try to undo the curse.  They are given only the hint from The Creator that they must show kindness to the enemy.

Well, that’s all for today!  I’d love to hear from you!

I’ll be gifting the first book in the Medicine Man series, SHE STEALS MY BREATH, to a blogger today and I’ll be gifiting the first book in the Lost Clan series, THE ANGEL AND THE WARRIOR, to a different blogger.

Come on in.  Leave a comment.

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Men and Their Trucks

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I don’t know why but lately I’ve been thinking about trucks. Maybe it’s because I’ve heard so many songs that contain references to them or the fact that I live in Texas. Who knows. Part of my ruminating included the revelation that a truck is the twenty-first century cowboy’s horse. Nowadays we only see folks who work ranches riding a horse to check the far pasture fence or find a stray cow in Hallmark movies. In real life while some ranchers ride horses to cut cattle, most drive their truck, ATV, or a four-wheeler around their place, . (Please correct me if I’m wrong those of you that have working ranches or farms.)

My oldest son on the day he got his Big Blue Truck.

My oldest son bought a truck when he was in college. A couple years ago he hydroplaned in the rain during his long work commute. Thankfully, he wasn’t hurt, but his truck was totaled. As it seems is always the case, he couldn’t afford another truck with the insurance money. (His truck was paid for.) Instead, he bought a small sedan. It’s never sat right with him driving that car, despite having a truck again, he still misses that first one. His truck, merely having one, was tied to who he was—a born and bred Texan.

With that on my mind, I started looking at country songs with truck in the title. Here are some of my favorites.

  • Getting Married to My Pick Up Truck by Rodney Carrington—the comparison between his truck’s loyalty and a woman’s is hilarious. Click here to listen.
  • Truck Yeah by Time McGraw—is just plain fun. Click here to listen.
  • My Truck by Gretchen Wilson—is one of the few truck titled songs sung by a woman. Click here to listen.
  • My Ol’ Bronco by Luke Bryan—while while the word truck isn’t in the title, a Bronco is a specific truck so I’m counting it. The line “I ain’t never gonna let her go” sums it all up. Click here to listen.
  • Boy Gets a Truck by Keith Urban—these lyrics are a wonderful love story, “Boy gets a truck. Truck gets a girl. Girl gets a midnight feeling he’s the one, one night turns to love. Love turns into one knee down, down payment on a three-bedroom house filled with the sound of little feet. Then you blink and he’s asking for the keys to pick her up. Boy gets a truck.” Wow. I wish I’d written that. Click here to listen. 
  • That Ain’t My Truck by Rhett Akins—I feel the pain and anguish the singer feels from the moment he starts singing about driving past the house of the woman he loves and sees another man’s truck at her house. Click here to listen.
  • Look at My Truck by Chase Rice—Yup, a man’s truck says a lot about him. “If ya want to get to get to know me it ain’t that hard. It’s sitting on some Goodyears there in the yard. Got some dents, got some dings, been my best friend since I was 16, baptized in dirty water, handed down to me from my father. If ya wanna know, wanna know what I’m made of just look at my truck.” More words I wish I’d written. Click here to listen. 
  • Pick Up Man by Joe Diffie—I included this one, too because a pickup is a specific kind of truck. I love the lines about the singer getting his first pick up when he was three, driving 100,000 miles on his knees, and how he moved a Barbie doll bed for the girl next door. And the lines, “there’s something about a pick up man” and “if it weren’t for trucks, we wouldn’t have tailgates” are priceless. Click here to listen.
  • We Rode In Trucks by Luke Bryan—sums up how a man’s life and his truck are intertwined. Click here to listen.
  • Mud On the Tires by Brad Paisley—again, this one doesn’t have the word truck in the title, but the tires are ones on his new Chevrolet truck but adding that to the title isn’t as catchy. ? This is one of my favorites. Brad Paisley paints a picture of him and his girl spending time with each other and getting “a little mud on the tires.”
  • I Drive Your Truck by Lee Brice written by Connie Harrington, Jessi Alexander, and Jimmy Yeary—my other favorite song with truck in the title, but grab a handful of tissues before you listen to it. Here’s the poignant story behind the song. One Memorial Day weekend, songwriter Connie Harrington heard a father on radio show talking about his son, fallen soldier, Army Sgt. 1st Class Jared Monti, who died in Afghanistan while trying to save a fellow soldier. When asked how he would commemorate his son, the father said, he’d drive his truck. “What can I tell you? It’s him. It’s got his DNA all over it. I love driving it because it reminds me of him, though I don’t need the truck to remind me of him. I think about him every hour of every day.”
  • Click here to hear the song. Then click here to listen to “Mud on the Tires” to make you smile.

I always knew trucks meant a lot to their owners,  but after listening to these songs, it will change my writing because they’re more.

Giveaway:  To be entered in the random drawing for a signed copy of Aiming For His Heart, the Happy Clips, and the phone pocket, leave a comment about your favorite truck song or just a comment about trucks.

 

  • After a comment from MaryEllen Cox I have to add another song. Wait In the Truck by Hardy, featuring Lainey Wilson. Another wow that will hit you emotionally. Click here to listen.

SHE PAINTS MY SOUL — New Release

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Howdy!

And a happy, terrific Tuesday it is.

SHE PAINTS MY SOUL, book #3 in the Medicine Man series is now released and on sale at 20% off its regular price.  Its usual price will be $4.99, but at present it is on sale for $3.99.  The paperback is on sale, also, and is priced at $9.99.

Today, I’m going to leave an excerpt from the very start of the book, and I’ll also be giving away the e-book of the first book in the medicine man series, SHE STEALS MY BREATH.

SHE PAINTS MY SOUL

by

Karen Kay

Back cover Blurb:

CAN HER LOVE HEAL THE MEDICINE MAN’S HEART?

In spite of her fear of Indians, Sharon Wells travels from her home in St. Louis to Indian Territory in the northwest, along with her fiancé, and her friend Amelia, who is determined to return to Blackfoot Country. An orphan, Sharon yearns to be married and have a family of her own. She’s loyal to her fiancé, even when he carelessly puts her life in danger.

Strikes Fast, of the Crow People, was once on the path to becoming a medicine man, but he has lost his way. When nearly all his family were killed in a Blackfoot raid, he went on the warpath to avenge the ghosts of his murdered family. But he’s carried revenge too far, and the blood of innocents has left him feeling no longer human, without empathy or sympathy. But the beautiful white woman, Sharon, ignites a spark in him. When she’s captured in an Indian raid and her fiancé does nothing, Strikes Fast hopes his heroic deed of rescuing her might return him to the good graces of the Creator, from whom all medicine men receive their powers.

Strikes Fast’s handsome masculinity calls out to Sharon, as her beauty and her kindness calls to him. Trapped together in a blizzard, surrounded by danger, and despite the many reasons they shouldn’t be together, their growing love is undeniable. Can they find a way to heal one another and create the family each of them is longing for?

Warning:  A sensuous romance that might just melt a gal’s heart.

PROLOGUE

Fort McKenzie, built where the Missouri and the Marias Rivers meet

Northwest Indian Country

The Season of Home Days, August 1840 

 

Crack!  Blast!

Sharon Wells screamed and awakened to the sound of bullets spitting overhead, followed by ear-shattering explosions.  Placing her hands over her ears, she hunkered down in her bedding of soft furs and blankets, reaching toward the place where David, her fiancé, should have been.

But, he wasn’t there.  Bringing up her hands to cover her head, she tried to become invisible while the whiz of bullets crackled overhead.

What is going on?  Why am I under attack?  And, where is David?

Because the night had been warm and pleasant, both she and David had spent the evening in each other’s arms under a canopy of stars.  A painter, David had earlier placed his art equipment of canvas, easel and paints on a wide ledge overhead.  From there, David had said he hoped to capture the early-morning sunrise, immortalizing its image onto the canvas.

Kaboom!  Blast!

Shaking, Sharon assumed a fetal position, and, so great was her fright, she began to convulse as though she were seized by a fit, there under the cover of the soft fur blankets.

Wherever you are, please hurry back to me, David!

Peeking out from the warmth of her covers, Sharon saw it was still dark; it perhaps being the time of day when the world was blanketed in the extreme darkness before dawn.  Had David awakened and left her to climb the bluff, hoping to paint the beauty of the sunrise?

If so, why hadn’t he taken her with him, especially since he often bragged about how she inspired the best artistry in him?

She wasn’t allowed to answer the question, however, because suddenly, and from out of nowhere, the running feet of perhaps hundreds of men rushed by her, seemingly without seeing her.  With a force of will, Sharon controlled her quivering and, unable to stop herself, peeped out again from beneath her blankets.

The sight of Indian warriors made her sob, and she thought she might faint.  Each one was stripped of all clothing except for his breechcloth and moccasins, and each was painted in black, white or red colors which covered his face and body.  Each man she could see was carrying a rifle, as well as the more familiar Indian garb of quiver, arrows and a bow.

As she shivered and tried to make herself invisible, a feeling of utter terror overtook her.  Why, oh why had she ever agreed to come to this far western land?

Luckily for her, during the night she and David had placed their bedding beneath a tall pine tree and the enemy warriors were ignoring the tree, racing by her as though they were each one hurrying to be the first to launch an attack upon some poor victim.  Was their target the Pikuni camp?  Or were they attacking the traders’ fort?

Trying to force her body to be as motionless as possible, she was aware she wasn’t able to do it.  She was shivering, and she cried silently as she waited until there were no more warriors fleeing by her.  Then she stirred uneasily, because her thoughts were of two minds: she desperately wished to arise and climb the bluff in search of David, but fear kept her in place, mute and fearful of making a single move.

Meanwhile, down below in the Indian encampment came echoes of the awful sounds of blasts and screams.  Had the Pikuni people awakened to find themselves facing this horror?

It was then that she excused David for his absence, since it was he who had suggested they spend the evening on this butte.  Had he not done so, she might even now be experiencing the fate of the people below.

But, what about my dearest friend, Amelia, who will still be down there in the Pikuni camp?  Should I leave my hiding place and rush to try to find her?

Instinctively, Sharon knew she didn’t dare go down into the Pikuni camp.  Instead, she would pray that Gray Falcon, Amelia’s beau, would protect her.

Then upon the early morning atmosphere came the sound of many pairs of heavy feet running back up the butte as quickly as possible.  Was the enemy fleeing?  Had the Blackfoot warriors sent them scurrying?

Yes.  It seemed to her as if the enemy were in full retreat.  Too late it occurred to her that she should have left her hiding place and climbed the tree above her for added protection, but there was not the time to scamper up it now.  Instead, she covered her mouth to keep from screaming and tried to control her shivering.  And, crouching down, she waited.

Hours seemed to pass before the sound of the battle was little more than a single shot heard here and there.  Down below in the Pikuni camp came the inevitable wails of the women.  Obviously, people had been either injured or killed.

Still, Sharon waited and waited, so terrified she could barely move.  However, as time went on and she heard no more sounds of the battle, she raised her head and peeped out from the blanket of furs.  No one was about.

Slowly, she sat up onto to her knees and glanced quickly around the environment.  In the east she could see the beginning of a gray haze announcing the coming of the sun.  Would now be the right time to set out to find David?  It was still dark enough to provide cover for her, yet it was light enough so she wouldn’t lose her way.

Picking up the buckskin blanket and throwing it over her head and shoulders both for protection as well as a disguise, she came up to her feet and stepped toward the path leading upward toward the high butte—the one where she and David had set out his equipment.

Hopefully, David, too, had successfully hidden from the enemy warriors.  She forgave him his negligence and perhaps even his cowardice since she couldn’t imagine him fighting these Indians; he was ill-equipped to go into battle, for one reason.  Although he always carried a gun for self-defense, he would have been caught unprepared to fight off this kind of enemy.

Deeply relieved at still being alive, Sharon breathed in a long breath and, letting it out, stepped a foot upon the path leading upward.  That’s when the awful yelp of an Indian war whoop spilt through the air.  It sounded close to her, and, spinning around, she beheld a horse and its rider speeding toward her.

Momentarily, she was struck with the unreality of what was taking place.  The rider on the horse was a huge man, was painted in black stripes covering his face, and, below his shoulders, he looked to be naked.  The sight sickened her.

It was a reality she could not believe was happening to her, and one she had hoped to never experience in this strange and foreign land.  Watching with horror as the man—looking more fiend than warrior—raced toward her, she felt as though this were no more than a nightmare and she merely needed to awaken and the awful sight would be gone.  But, as he came closer and closer, she realized this was no dream.

As quickly as possible, she threw off the blanket and ran up the path, her screams for help loud to her ears.  But, no help was to be seen or experienced this morning.

Again she wondered, Where is David?

As the enemy darted toward her, she suddenly discovered she possessed a spark of courage, and, realizing that fleeing would do her no good—she could not outrun a horse—she stopped her flight.  She would take her stand here.

She turned then to watch the big ugly warrior ride toward her as though he would knock her down and kill her with one simple movement of his lance.  Oddly, she wondered if the man would fetch a good price for her scalp because of the unusual coloring of her hair.  It was strange because she felt suddenly unafraid.  Indeed, if David were dead and if this were to be the place where she would die too, she would face the event with as little flinching as possible.  After all, death came unto all creatures upon this earth.  She wished, however, that the event weren’t happening to her so soon in this life.

Even though the warrior’s actions were quick, it seemed to her as if the events taking place around her were in slow motion, giving her more than enough time to consider her own death.  After all, mightn’t death be preferable to being taken captive by an enemy?  Hopefully, the end of her would be quick and with as little pain as possible.

She watched as though from above herself as the horse continued to speed toward her, and, coming right upon her, the warrior’s big arm came out to grab hold of her.  She was jerked upward and thrown before her captor onto his racing steed; she faced downward as the awful scent of a sweat-drenched man and horseflesh made her gag.  It was a painful position; she had been thrown onto her stomach, and, closing her eyes, she prayed to God for a quick death and an everlasting salvation.

It was her last thought before, thankfully, she lost all consciousness.

And now before I sign off on this blog for today, I’d like to leave you with a review of the novel, SHE PAINTS MY SOUL.:

“I always enjoy this authors Native American books and this one didn’t disappoint. Strikes Fast and Sharon’s story is so good. He was a medicine man who lost his way after his entire family was killed. This book mostly tells of his journey to find himself. A captivating read that I read straight through.”

MJ, Amazon Review

Be sure to leave a comment.  I will be giving away book #1 in the Medicine Man series, SHE STEALS MY BREATH.

tinyurl.com/shepaintsmysoul

And now here’s a one minute trailer of the book, SHE STEALS MY BREATH.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WmJV0tVOYUU