Historical Romance Series

Let’s Celebrate the Stars and Stripes!

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The United States is having a birthday…an impressive birthday commemorating 250 years since the signing of the Declaration of Independence in 1776, a pivotal moment in American history that established the nation’s independence from Britain and laid the foundation for democracy and self-governance.

…And eight of our Fillies are contributing to the celebration with a new series, Petticoats and Patriots, commencing June 16th thru August 4th (See Information & Link Below).

But before independence could be won, it was decided the colonies needed an American “flag”, the Continental Colors, and a day dedicated to honoring “Old Glory.”

When the American Revolution broke out in 1775, the colonists weren’t fighting united under a single flag. Instead, most regiments participating in the war for independence against the British fought under their own flags. In June of 1775, the Second Continental Congress met in Philadelphia to create the Continental Army—a unified colonial fighting force—with the hopes of a more organized battle against its colonial oppressors. This led to the creation of what was, essentially, the first “American” flag, the Continental Colors.

For some, this flag, which was comprised of 13 red and white alternating stripes and a Union Jack in the corner, was too similar to that of the British. George Washington soon realized that flying a flag that was even remotely close to the British flag was not a great confidence-builder for the revolutionary effort, so he turned his efforts towards creating a new symbol of freedom for the soon-to-be fledgling nation.

On June 14, 1777, the Second Continental Congress took a break from writing the Articles of Confederation and passed a resolution stating that “the flag of the United States be 13 stripes, alternate red and white,” and that “the union be 13 stars, white in a blue field, representing a new constellation.”

            • white for purity and innocence
            • red for valor and hardiness
            • blue for vigilance, perseverance, and justice

Over 100 years later, in 1916, President Woodrow Wilson marked the anniversary of that decree by officially establishing June 14 as Flag Day.

Facts About the U.S. Flag

1. Bernard Cigrand, a small-town Wisconsin teacher, originated the idea for an annual flag day, to be celebrated across the country every June 14, in 1885. That year, he led his school in the first formal observance of the holiday.

2. It is widely believed that Betsy Ross, who assisted the Revolutionary War effort by repairing uniforms and sewing tents, made the first American flag. However, there is no historical evidence that she contributed to Old Glory’s creation. It was not until her grandson William Canby held a press conference in 1870 to recount the story that the American public learned of her possible role. It has since been confirmed that Francis Hopkinson, a delegate from New Jersey who signed the Declaration of Independence, designed the American flag.

3. The lyrics of “The Star-Spangled Banner,” America’s national anthem since 1931, are taken from a patriotic poem written by Francis Scott Key after he witnessed the Battle of Fort McHenry during the War of 1812. His words were set to the tune of “To Anacreon in Heaven,” a popular British drinking song.

4. In the 1950s, when it seemed certain that Alaska would be admitted to the Union, designers began retooling the American flag to add a 49th star to the existing 48. Meanwhile, a 17-year-old Ohio student named Bob Heft borrowed his mother’s sewing machine, disassembled his family’s 48-star flag and stitched on 50 stars in a proportional pattern. He handed in his creation to his history teacher for a class project, explaining that he expected Hawaii would soon achieve statehood as well. Heft also sent the flag to his congressman, Walter Moeller, who presented it to President Eisenhower after both new states joined the Union. Eisenhower selected Heft’s design, and on July 4, 1960, the president and the high school student stood together as the 50-star flag was raised for the first time. Heft’s teacher promptly changed his grade from a B- to an A.

5. Unlike setting an intact flag on fire, flying one upside-down is not always intended as an act of protest. According to the Flag Code, it can also be an official distress signal.

6. The Flag Code stipulates that the Stars and Stripes should not be used as apparel, bedding or drapery.

7. The practice of draping coffins in the American flag is not reserved for military veterans and government officials. On the contrary, any burial may incorporate this tradition.

8. Etiquette calls for American flags to be illuminated by sunlight or another light source while on display.

9. During the Vietnam War era, some demonstrators burned American flags as an act of protest. The Flag Protection Act of 1968 was enacted in response, making it illegal to burn or otherwise deface the Stars and Stripes. In two landmark decisions 20 years later, the Supreme Court ruled that the government couldn’t curb individuals’ First Amendment rights by prohibiting desecration of the U.S. flag. Respectful burning of damaged flags according to established protocol has always been acceptable.

10. When flags are taken down from their poles, care must be taken to keep them from touching the ground. In fact, the American flag should always be kept aloft, meaning that rugs and carpets featuring the Stars and Stripes are barred by the Flag Code.

11. When the flags of cities, states, localities or groups are flown on the same staff as the American flag, Old Glory should always be at the peak. When flags of two or more nations are displayed, they should be of equivalent size and flown from separate staffs of the same height.

12. The Flag Code strictly prohibits adding an insignia, drawing or other markings to the Stars and Stripes. Some American politicians have been known to defy this regulation by signing copies of the U.S. flag for their supporters.

13. Ever wondered how to correctly fold an American flag? First, enlist a partner and stand facing each other, each holding both corners of one of the rectangle’s shorter sides. Working together, lift the half of the flag that usually hangs on the bottom over the half that contains the blue field of stars. Next, fold the flag lengthwise a second time so that the stars are visible on the outside. Make a triangular fold at the striped end, bringing one corner up to meet the top edge. Continue to fold the flag in this manner until only a triangle of star-studded blue can be seen.

  • The original 1777 flag was designed to represent the 13 original colonies. It had 13 white stars on a blue field and 13 alternating red and white stripes.
  • One of the first flag designs had the stars arranged in a circle, based on the idea that all colonies were equal.
  • In 1818, after a few design changes, the United States Congress decided to retain the flag’s original 13 stripes and add new stars to reflect each new state that entered the union.
  • Each time a state was added to the union, a star was added. Today, there are 50 stars, one for each state in the union, but the 13 stripes remain.

Next time you gaze upon the symbol of the nation’s freedom, pause and reflect on the flag’s origins, symbolism, and history—and what the American flag means in your life.

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Giveaway!

 To win a $10 Amazon Gift Card, share your thoughts about what the American flag means to you.

Coming Soon!

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0H29SSSH5?tag=pettpist-20

To stay up on our latest releases and have some fun, too, join our Facebook Reader Group HERE!

 

 

Traveling Performers in the 1800s.

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On the Texas frontier, justice is a long ride. And love is the most dangerous gamble of all.

Jess’s Reckoning is now up for preorders! Won’t be long until release day on May 12th. I had so much fun with this story as Jess and Abigail find themselves trapped in an outlaw town where death awaits around every corner.

One of the more humorous parts is the fact that newspaperwoman Abigail Farnsworth wears a black wig over her blonde curls in an effort to escape notice. She has access to all sorts of fake wigs, mustaches, and beards through a woman she meets who once traveled across America with an acting troupe.

Research proved extremely helpful and I learned that wigs and artificial facial hair were very prevalent back in the 1800s. Of course, the judges and lawyers wore white wigs like their British counterparts but others wore a variety of colors for different reasons. Hair loss was a big thing back then. Maybe due to bad water, medicines made with opium and alcohol, and lead that was often in food and their homes. They were made of horsehair and other animal hair, sheep’s wool, vegetable fibers, and human hair. Egyptians wore wigs because they shaved their heads. In fact, they were probably the first people to wear them.

There were two different kinds of traveling performers – the medicine show and what was called tent repertoire theater. The medicine shows traveled by wagon out west selling elixirs and mostly fake medicines. They used an actor or two to entertain the crowd while the salesman made the pitch. Tent repertoire theaters were just that—performances in tents that could be pitched anywhere.

In my book the wigs and hair pieces were needed for disguises that helped them move around the outlaw town of Diablo Springs. Once you entered, you were not allowed to leave. Something Jess and Abigail learn too late.

While they’re kept there, they discover Jess’s little sister, the last of his missing siblings to be found. And that only complicates things more. Jess has his work cut out for him and after he’s beaten severely on the head with a hefty club, he’s left with double vision, headaches, and intermittent dizziness. You get the picture. Scary times.

Have you ever worn a wig or hairpiece? If not, would you want one? I have a nice wig that I bought following a botched haircut. I learned firsthand that they’re not all that much fun and I couldn’t wait for my hair to grow out so I could retire the wig. Every so often I get it out for a special occasion. And I also have a purple wig I bought for Halloween. Here’s a picture.

 

If you haven’t preordered Jess’s Reckoning, CLICK HERE. And if you’d like to read an excerpt, CLICK HERE. 

Jodie Wolfe – How Research Helps Define a Novel & a giveaway

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What reasons do you enjoy reading historical novels? Is it a certain time period? Perhaps you’re a big history buff. Or maybe you love the romance of bygone years, when things seemed simpler. Easier. Maybe less stressful. What is it that draws you to pick up a book? Many mention a great cover helps and back cover copy that tugs you into the story. For some, it’s the place, time, or story itself.

When I started out to write a series set in the town and surrounding area where I currently live, I didn’t know some of its vast history. The more I research, in fact, the more I realize of things not known. Honestly, I hadn’t planned on stepping away from penning books set in the Midwest until my husband suggested focusing a series closer to home.

During a recent tour of the original Brady Farm, a homestead dating back to the early 1700s near Newburg, Pennsylvania, I learned of Captain Samuel Brady. One article I read online likened him to Captain America because of his exploits. Some others considered him on the same level as Daniel Boone. Sam was the grandson of Hugh and Hannah Brady, who migrated from Ireland in 1738 and settled in south-central Pennsylvania. Sadly, the log cabin where Samuel was born in Shippensburg was torn down many years ago.

Known for his undertakings as a frontier scout and defender against Native Americans, he also fought in the American Revolutionary War. Samuel’s life and adventures are thought to have been the inspiration for James Fenimore Cooper’s The Last of the Mohicans. I had never heard about this man until I took part in a private tour of his grandparent’s home.

While Samuel won’t likely be featured in any of the books I write, since it’s quite a bit earlier time period than I typically create, learning about the place the original Brady’s built fits into my current work in process. Especially one tidbit the guide mentioned about the trail from the farm to Middle Spring, which led to Shippensburg. I’d been trying to learn the path that locals would’ve taken from Newburg to Shippensburg. That one small comment during the tour helped me form a clear picture of the details I needed.

Sarah’s Search will be available early summer, Lord willing. This is book three in my Time to Come Home series. Each book has required more and more research as I learn more about the place where I live. It’s been such fun diving into history.

How about you? When’s the last time you learned something new about the place where you live? What’s the next history search you plan to undertake? Please share it with us. I can’t wait to hear about it.

Be sure to comment for a chance to win an ebook of Hannah’s Quest, book two in my current series.

 

 

 

 

JODIE WOLFE loves writing historical fiction after years as a homeschool mom. She enjoys spending time with her husband in Pennsylvania, reading, knitting, and walking. Jodie creates novels where hope and quirky meet. Visit her at http://www.jodiewolfe.com.

New Story, IF SHE WERE MINE, is on Pre-Order

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Howdy!  And welcome to another terrific Tuesday!

Well, while we are getting the e-book ready to publish (all the editing and proofing is now done) we’ve put the new book up for a Pre-Order.  Here is the link:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GWY3P5KS?tag=pettpist-20

It’s on sale at 40% off what the price will be once all the promotion is done for its release — that is to say, it’s regular price is $5.99.

And I’ve tweaked the blurb a little for Amazon.  Here is the new blurb:

 

AI-FREE! 100% organic author-created content. No artificial intelligence was used in the writing of this book.

If you enjoy stories about how love can win, despite terrible wrongs and extreme prejudice, this story is for you.

A star-crossed love, treachery, and a desire that will not be denied.

Briella Feher is in love, but not with her fiancé. Her father has exiled her from the sweeping plains of Montana to New York City “for her own safety,” commanding her to marry within her heritage and class. Raised in Indian Territory, Briella was shaped as much by the Pikuni—Blackfeet—people as by her aristocratic Hungarian family. Viewed as a cowgirl, Briella doesn’t fit in with society. Perhaps it’s the guns she wears strapped to her evening gowns. Her heart has always belonged to Red Fox, the Pikuni medicine man who taught her to survive on the prairie, the man who was her teacher, her first love. When James Maximillian III proposes—with the condition that he keep his mistress—Briella accepts, seeing his proposal as her only path back to Montana and to Red Fox.

Two years apart have not cooled the fire between Briella and Red Fox, yet his honor won’t allow him to claim this woman who is promised to another. With the escalation of the Indian/Cavalry wars, Red Fox believes distance is the only way to protect the woman he loves. Then a vision reveals a devastating truth: Briella’s fiancé is hiding a lie that could shatter every vow. It’s now up to Red Fox to find the truth.

But, time is running out and forces are aligned against them. Can Red Fox find the proof and expose the treachery in time to alter the ending of their Romeo and Juliet romance, or will he lose Briella forever in a romance destined for tragedy?

Warning: This is a forbidden love story—forbidden by both sets of parents–which begs the question: will the hero and heroine get a second chance at love? Set in the 1870’s, this sensual love story is sprinkled with paranormal, Native American style. But, if you love the old west as it was lived and loved by the First Americans, you’re going to love this story.

And I should tell you I will be giving away a free e-book from this series — winner’s choice.

So let me share another except from the new book.  In this story both the heroine’s and the hero’s parents are against these two marrying.  Both have “good” reasons, so they think.  But, when all is said and done, love will win out.

IF SHE WERE MINE

By

Karen Kay

Excerpt #2

Grasping hold of the parfleche tube he had tied onto his pony, Red Fox took out his white buckskin clothing and shook out the garments. These were his best, his fanciest, buckskin clothing. They had been given to him by his grandfather upon the first event of Red Fox having publicly healed a rich man’s pony, it having become lame because of a disease upon its leg.

His grandfather had been a bigger man than he, and several snows ago, Red Fox had cut, sewn and tailored the clothing to fit his own frame. Red Fox shook out the stunningly white buckskin clothing and inspected the regalia to ensure every feather in the headdress was neatly in place. He then looked over the beadwork to ensure each bead was still firmly sewn into the leather and was not likely to fall off.

Standing upon a shady patch of ground within an outgrowth of pines growing atop one of the numerous buttes overlooking the Féher ranch, Red Fox inspected the white buckskin leather shirt with blue-and-white-beaded “V” shapes falling down over the shoulder straps. All were intact.

He then put his attention on the cloth breechcloth, the white leggings and moccasins, all beaded in the same design as the shoulder straps. Leather fringe about eight inches in length, as well as long locks of black hair scattered in amongst the buckskin fringe, fell from each sleeve. The same fringe lined each seam of the leggings of the regalia.

A looping white-beaded necklace which would fall from his neck was unbroken, while the headdress of eagle tail feathers stood straight up, then fell all the way to the ground. Two long ermine furs were attached to the bonnet in front; these would fall over the shoulders. The strip of beadwork in front of the headdress was in the same style as the shoulder straps.

Niitá’p, this regalia was the best clothing he possessed, and what an honor it had been when his grandfather had passed these clothes down to him.

As Red Fox donned the clothing, he listened to the strains of what he knew to be the white man’s music. It was quite pretty. The sound was floating up to where he was standing, up high upon a ledge of a cliff overlooking the Fehér ranch.

Picking up his rifle, which he kept in a beautifully beaded parfleche case—a present from his sister—he turned around and climbed to the top of the cliff. The prairie stretched out from behind him, requiring him to step up a little before he could stride out upon the flat plains toward the spot where he had left his pony. Ensuring his pony was not hungry and had plenty of grass to eat here within a growth of pines, he satisfied himself that his pony would be well hidden, this especially so because Hunts-with-the-wind would keep watch over the animal. Breathing in deeply, Red Fox then retraced his steps and set off on foot down toward the party.

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Watching the dancers from the patio outside the ballroom, Red Fox felt definitely the outsider. He, alone, was outfitted in Pikuni garb. And, the others? They were beautifully dressed, yes, exactly as Eagle Heart’s woman had said they would be. But, all here wore white man’s clothing, since his relatives, all but George and his wife, had left earlier in the day to rejoin the Pikuni encampment. Even the “hang around the fort” Indians were clothed in white-man’s garb.

Where is she?

Although Red Fox had a long acquaintance with the white man’s fashion sense, as well as his dances, he had never seen this kind of smooth gliding where it looked as if the men and women were floating in each other’s arms around and around in a circle upon the dance floor. Silently, he thanked the wife of Eagle Heart for instructing him in the steps of the waltz.

He had witnessed, of course, the jig, the polka and even several Indian dances from other tribes that included both men and women dancing, but never had he borne witness to such graceful movements nor had he observed the intimate way in which the men and women held one another.

Watching the couples’ movements as they whirled around the dance floor, he was captivated for several moments until he realized he still could not find Poka’aki.

Where is she?

Catching a glimpse of George waltzing with his wife, Red Fox felt himself relax. Here was something familiar; people he knew and loved.

Stepping proudly inside this place of music and dancing, he became unusually aware that he at once garnered a great deal of attention. People even gasped. Then he saw these same people turn inward to make groups where they talked amongst themselves and pointed toward him.

Perhaps this was done to cause him to feel uncomfortable, but it had the opposite effect over him. It empowered him, knowing how rude and crude were these people who could not even hide their curiosity, if this were what it was.

It wasn’t as if the Indian people weren’t also curious about these newcomers into their country, but they did not stare, nor so openly would they point at a person and then turn to gossip amongst themselves.

Was this aloofness and rumor mongering the sort of thing Poka’aki had been forced to endure in her exile from her home? If so, was there any wonder why she had agreed to a proposition that would enable her to leave there?

Ah, there she is.

So beautiful was she, he caught his breath as he recalled his youthful fear of her because of her beauty. She was wearing a dress in a light shade of pink that accented her figure in front, but was puffed out in back with what must have been yards and yards of material. It was trimmed in a deep color of red, and it seemed to shimmer in a cascade of waves as it fell to the floor. The shoulders of her dress fell down her arms, leaving the top of her breasts, her neck and her upper arms bare. A ribbon in the same color of deep red was tied around her neck, and the length of it fell down the dress in back. And, as she swirled around the floor in the arms of a man, the dark-red ribbon which fell down in back of her, swayed to and fro.

Her hair was caught up on top of her head, while curls of her dark, auburn hair fell over her shoulders. A tiny pink hat covered the top of her tresses.

He couldn’t remember seeing her so beautifully dressed. And, for a moment, an odd feeling come over him: would he ever be able to give her such riches? Worse, having now tasted this kind of life, would she require them?

He shrugged off the thought and studied the man who held her in his arms, and, as Red Fox witnessed the man’s possessive grip on her, Red Fox realized this had to be the man she was being required to marry. The gentleman was not an unhandsome fellow, though he possessed facial hair above his lips, a feature both Indian men and women abhorred.

He stepped farther into the room and took in the measure of this fellow holding Poka’aki. Although Red Fox longed to fade into the scenery in this place, he could not. Realizing his countenance and dress were too different and too exotic for those around him to act politely, he ignored their whispering and pointed glances.

Indeed, he concentrated on studying this man, Maximillian. If he were to envision a way to release his woman from this person‘s grip, Red Fox needed to understand Maximillian as well as he knew himself. The man was slender, tall, although perhaps a little shorter than he, Red Fox. The fellow, however, kept glancing to the east side of the dance floor instead of giving his beautiful partner all of the attention she deserved.

Looking to the eastern side of the dance floor, Red Fox saw the reason for it: a pretty young woman with the pale color of hair that was so rare upon these plains stood there, the object of this man’s attention. Remembering what Poka’aki had said about the man possessing a mistress, Red Fox surmised this woman had to be Maximillian’s undeclared sits-beside-him-woman.

And, though she was stunningly pretty with her blonde curls and blue eyes, there was a catch in her eye and a quality about her countenance that was not pretty. And, worse, she stared at Poka’aki with a look that was hardly likeable. Watching the interplay between this woman and the man who was dancing with Poka’aki, Red Fox knew it was only a matter of a few moments before he, Red Fox, would intercede.

As soon as the music of the dance ended, Red Fox paced forward and into the crowd of dancers, his steps taking him directly to Poka’aki and the gentleman, who, at this very moment, had laid his hand upon the small of Poka’aki’s back.

Inserting himself directly into the path of Maximillian and Poka’aki, Red Fox waited as the people around him cleared away until, at last, the gentleman beheld an Indian warrior, complete with rifle—although it was encased within its beaded case and was strapped around Red Fox’s shoulder—was standing directly in his path.

Red Fox watched the man physically jump, and had it been gentleman-like to scream, the fellow might have done so. As it was, he gasped and stopped walking completely.

“Red Fox! I was wondering when I might see you here! Welcome!” Dragging her escort with her, Poka’aki stepped up before Red Fox and proceeded with the introductions, saying, “Red Fox, this gentleman here is Maximillian the Third. Max, this is Red Fox, my friend, as well as my tutor into the ways of the Plains and how one can easily survive on them.”

Maximillian bent over at the waist and inclined his head, but he said nothing.

Red Fox simply nodded. Then, looking directly at Poka’aki, he said, “I would like to dance with you, Poka’aki.”

“Of course. They are playing another waltz, this one a little slower than the last. Do you know the dance?”

“I do, although I have only learned these steps this very day,” Red Fox answered. He then watched as Maximillian bent slightly forward again, clicked his heels together, and turning, he walked away, although Red Fox saw the man’s knees were shaky and bowed slightly outward as he walked.

Returning his attention to Poka’aki, Red Fox asked, “Will you show me how I should hold you like these other men are doing?”

“Of course I will. Now, you put your right arm around my waist, like so.” She placed his arm in the correct place on the small of her back. “Then you hold my right hand with your left, and listen to the music and the beat. One, two, three; one, two, three; one, two, three. Do you hear the beat?”

“I do.” He placed his rifle, complete with its carrying case, a little more fully onto his back and out of the way, noticing at the same time that, true to her Pikuni teaching, a gun in a holster was wound around her waist.

“Good,” she said. “Now, starting with your left foot, we step up and back; up, two, three; back, two, three; up, two, three. Now, with your right and left foot, on steps two and three, you twirl around slightly, taking me with you as you twirl. Are you ready?”

“I am,” he answered. And, then he began to dance up and back; up, two, three; back, two, three; up, two, three; back, two, three; as he had earlier learned. Then, he commenced to twirl around. Gazing down at her, he witnessed her beautiful smile.

“You are a quick learner.”

“It is because I dance and sing every day to my ponies, and sometimes I dance while we are in camp. And, I often drum and sing as I dance.

“I know,” she said. “I have seen you do this, although only on occasion, and I have always thought you are most graceful.”

He smiled down at her. “Also, the wife of Eagle Heart showed me these steps today, though I did not hold her as I do you. She waltzed instead with her man, Eagle Heart.” When Poka’aki remained silent, he commented, “This dance is as it looks. It feels as if one is floating.”

She grinned up at him. “It feels, indeed, exactly as you say. How lovely it is to be in your arms. I have never seen this regalia before. Is it new to you?”

“Saa, it is not new. Never have I had the occasion to wear it before this night. It belonged to my grandfather.”

“And, was it passed down to you?”

He nodded.

She commented, “Perhaps our son shall inherit it.”

Red Fox missed a step while at the same time someone behind him tapped him on the shoulder. He came to a halt and gazed over his shoulder, there to see Frederic Fehér behind him, Frederic’s lips were set into a frown and his eyes filled with censure.

“I am cutting in to this dance,” Frederic said.

Red Fox glanced at the brother of Poka’aki questioningly.

“It means,” said Frederic in a voice dripping with sarcasm and disapproval, “that I am now going to dance with my sister while you step aside.”

“You are?”

“Yes. Now.” And, with no more instruction nor so much as a kind word, Frederic placed his arms around Poka’aki and danced away with her, although Red Fox observed she was frowning as she spoke to her brother.

Puzzled, Red Fox looked toward Poka’aki, who took her arm from around Frederic to say to Red Fox in sign, “Do not be upset. This is sometimes done.”

What was he supposed to do? Stand here while the dancers twirled around him or bumped into him?

At last, Red Fox began to understand. And, waiting for Frederic and Poka’aki to twirl in close to him, he stepped up to Frederic and tapped him on the shoulder, only to experience the shame of Frederic ignoring him completely as he stepped quickly away and whirled around the dance floor, Frederic presenting a façade as if nothing had even happened.

Knowing Frederic had intended to create the sensation of wrongdoing within him, Red Fox determinedly refused to give the matter any of his energy. Instead, with a steady gait, Red Fox turned around and walked off the dance floor and out of the ballroom completely, leaving the lovely sounding music behind him.

And, lovely it was, indeed. He couldn’t remember hearing anything quite like it in his past.

For a moment, he paused on the wooden flooring outside the actual dance hall, doing little more than listening to the enchanting music. He would remember it. It was so very beautiful.

And, when the music for a jig began, Red Fox set off on foot over the plains, making his way back up to the ledge of the butte, where his wolf would be awaiting him.

****\

Well, that’s all for today.  Remember I’ll be giving away a free e-book from this series to one of you bloggers today, your choice.  So come on in and share your thoughts with me.

 

 

Heidi Gray McGill Shares Her New Release and a Giveaway

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She can Outride, Outshoot, and Outwork Any Man on the Ranch — So Why Can’t She Just Let Someone Love Her?

A Review-Inspired Look at Keeper of My Heart by Heidi Gray McGill

Some folks ride hard into a story expecting a formula: cowboy meets girl, sparks fly, wedding bells ring at sunset. Keeper of My Heart, Book Six in Heidi Gray McGill’s Discerning God’s Best series, lopes right past that fence and into territory that feels both wilder and truer than most romance novels dare to travel.

Meet Cecelia Shankel. Born in the saddle. Raised on grit. The woman who outrides, outshoots, and outworks every hand on the family’s Missouri spread. As one reader put it, she “harkens back to the very real, but often erased, women who wore trousers and boots as they rode fences, cared for livestock, and put the home in homestead.” Cecelia doesn’t make herself small for anyone. If a man can’t stand on his own two feet, he’s got no business standing next to her.

Then Jimmy Reeves shows up from Philadelphia. He’s book-smart and organized down to the last pocket watch tick, but more comfortable with formulas than feelings. He came west to study medicinal plants, not to be rattled by a sharp-tongued woman who can probably rope a steer better than he can tie his own cravat. What readers found endearing — and what makes this opposites-attract, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers story crackle — is that Jimmy isn’t the typical macho hero. He’s anxious, a little naive, wired a little differently than most, and figuring out his calling between the pages of a compounding ledger. Yet, as one reviewer noted, “his anxieties won’t deter him from absorbing everything the West is willing to teach.”

Grumpy Meets Sunshine on the Frontier

Here’s what lights the fuse: Cecelia thinks Jimmy is an arrogant city doctor with soft hands and softer instincts. Jimmy thinks Cecelia is an impulsive wildcard who runs on instinct the way he runs on logic. Their forced proximity — she’s assigned to teach him the land, whether or not she likes it — turns mutual irritation into something neither of them counted on.

Readers cheered the slow burn. Cecelia, the wounded heroine, believes she must always be the best to prove her worth. Jimmy has spent his whole life valued for his mind. And tenderness in boots and a work shirt is not something his medical school prepared him for. Their caretaking moments, particularly when Cecelia nurses him through a smallpox outbreak, strip away every layer of competence both wore like armor, and what’s left underneath is two people who are genuinely scared to need each other.

“For the first time, she wondered if she was lonely or simply stubborn.” (KOMH Chapter 13)

That question cuts to the marrow of what makes this book more than a romance. It’s a story about self-sufficiency as both superpower and prison. The tagline captures it cleanly: “In a world where independence is survival, can two opposites surrender to God’s best plan for their lives?”

Faith That Fits Like a Well-Worn Saddle

What readers praised most consistently, and what sets McGill’s storytelling apart from the crowded frontier romance corral, is that faith runs through this book the way a river runs through dry land. It’s not preachy. It’s not tacked on for decoration. It’s there in the quiet moments, in the prayers that sound less like stained glass and more like real people bargaining with God in the dark.

“You gave him a mind that can heal people. You put him here long enough for us to lean on it. If You send him back, You will have to deal with what that does to my heart because I cannot pretend it will not hurt.” (KOMH Chapter 28)

That is not the prayer of a woman with everything buttoned up. That is a wounded heroine at the end of her rope, talking to God the way you talk to someone you trust even when you’re furious. It is the kind of honesty that readers highlighted, marked, and came back to. One reviewer confessed she “was tempted to highlight the entire book.”

The spiritual throughline challenges what one reader called “the deep-rooted belief in our own self-sufficiency.” Both Cecelia and Jimmy arrive in the story convinced their strength is enough. The smallpox outbreak, the rivals-to-respect tension, the frontier medicine clash between Jimmy’s medical school training and Robin “Singing Bird” Manning’s plant knowledge — every plot element conspires to prove them wrong in the most grace-filled way possible.

And that is exactly where God meets them — not in the moments when they have it together, but in the ones when they finally admit they don’t.

Why Readers Can’t Stop Talking About This One

Book Six earned the loudest ovation in the series. Reviewers who had followed the Discerning God’s Best series from the beginning called it the best yet. New readers who started here found it completely accessible. The details (period-accurate frontier life, class differences, gender roles, Indigenous plant medicine) drew readers so deep into 1870s Missouri they could practically smell the saddle leather and wood smoke.

And unlike so many historical romances where the heroine’s spunk is waiting to be tamed, Cecelia’s strength is never the problem. Jimmy doesn’t come in to fix her. He comes in to be her equal. As a reader summed it up with refreshing directness: “It is nice to hear a male character that isn’t the macho hero we so frequently see in romance novels.”

Grab Your Copy and Join the Giveaway!

Keeper of My Heart is available now on Amazon and in Kindle Unlimited.

And here’s the fun part. I’m giving away an eBook copy of Keeper of My Heart! Leave a comment below and answer this question to enter: 

Cecelia is the girl no man can tame, until the right one stops trying to. Have you ever met someone who challenged you in ways you didn’t expect? Did it change you?

Heidi would love to hear your story.

I will draw a winner from all comments and will be in touch directly. So don’t be shy. Pull up a chair, leave your thoughts, and invite your friends to come on over and chat. I will be here to ride the conversation alongside you.

Don’t miss the rest of the Discerning God’s Best series, and keep your eyes on the horizon for what’s coming next. Cecelia’s sister, Serafina, left readers hungry for more, and the trail doesn’t end here.

AUTHOR BIO: Heidi Gray McGill is an award-winning Christian fiction author who proves that a bit of humor and faith can go a long way—even when writing with her nose practically touching the screen. Since launching her writing journey in March 2020, Heidi has penned nine books that artfully blend God’s love and wisdom into historical and contemporary fiction. Her Discerning God’s Best series has snagged five NEST awards, with “Dial E for Endearment” even making a splash as a finalist for the CIA Award (no spies involved, just good storytelling).

Heidi’s characters are like that perfect cup of coffee—warm, relatable, and sometimes just what you need to get through the day. Her stories don’t just entertain; they offer a comforting dose of healing through God’s Word.

Living in a cozy town near Charlotte, NC, Heidi shares her life with her husband of over thirty years, who, rumor has it, is as devoted as her readers. When she’s not cooking up a storm, beating everyone at board games, or getting lost in a good book, she supports fellow authors, passing on the encouragement that has fueled her writing.

Curious? Visit HeidiGrayMcGill.com to connect with Heidi, follow her on social media, and maybe even snag a free prequel to her bestselling series. Because who doesn’t love a good story, especially one that brings a little light into your day?

Christian Fiction. Relatable Characters. Life-changing stories. Fusing Faith and Fiction™.

 

Heather Blanton – the Vaquero Who Shaped the Cowboy & a Giveaway

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Telling the West Right: Honoring the Vaquero Who Shaped the Cowboy

By Heather Blanton

Long before the American cowboy was immortalized in dime novels and Hollywood, his story had already begun—written in the dust and discipline of the Hispanic vaquero. These skilled horsemen, shaped by Spanish tradition and forged in the rugged lands of Mexico and California, laid the groundwork for what would become one of America’s most enduring icons.

Even the word cowboy finds its roots in vaquero, from vaca, meaning cow. But this influence runs far deeper than language. Vaqueros were masters of horsemanship, introducing the techniques of roping, branding, and cattle handling that became essential to ranch life. Their gear—wide-brimmed hats, leather chaps, spurs, and expertly crafted saddles—was born of necessity and refined through experience. Anglo settlers moving west didn’t invent the cowboy’s way of life—they learned it.

And they learned more than skill. The vaquero lived by a code: quiet competence, resilience, respect for the land, and pride in honest work. This wasn’t the reckless gunfighter of legend, but a man whose survival depended on patience, discipline, and grit.

Yet somewhere along the way, that truth was overshadowed. The myth of the American cowboy grew larger than life, often leaving behind the very culture that shaped it. What we celebrate today is only part of the story.

That truth is exactly why I wrote Fernando’s Fortune. I’ve spent my career telling stories of the American West, but the deeper I went, the clearer it became—some of its strongest roots were being left out of the telling. The vaquero wasn’t a side note. He was the beginning.

Don Fernando Diego Garcia de la Vega begins as a man who seems to have everything—a family fortune, a storied California hacienda, and a life marked by charm and privilege. But one reckless, passionate mistake with the governor’s daughter costs him everything. Stripped of his inheritance and cast out from the only home he’s ever known, Fernando is forced into exile in the untamed American West.

He arrives determined to reclaim his fortune within a year, convinced he can conquer the frontier as easily as he once won admiration in Monterey. But the West has no patience for pride. It is a hard land, filled with danger, hardship, and people who cannot be swayed by charm alone—especially a strong-willed frontier woman who refuses to be bought, bullied, or wooed.

 

What follows is not just a fight for survival, but a reckoning. Fernando came chasing wealth. Instead, he is forced to confront who he truly is when everything else is stripped away. In the end, he may gain far more than he ever lost—or risk losing everything that truly matters.

Because the West is more than myth. It is a story shaped by many hands, many cultures, and many truths. And if we’re going to keep telling it, we ought to tell it right.

~~~

Comment, and you are entered to win a paperback of Fernando’s Fortune! Do you think the vaquero is a forgotten hero of the West?

 

He was a prince of California. One scandal made him an outcast.

Don Fernando Diego Garcia de la Vega had it all: a family fortune, a legendary hacienda, and a life of effortless charm. But a single, passionate mistake with the governor’s daughter leaves him stripped of his inheritance and banished from the only home he’s ever known.

Exiled to the untamed American West, Fernando vows to regain his fortune within a year. He expects to conquer the frontier as easily as he once charmed the ladies of Monterey. But the Wild West is a brutal teacher, filled with ruthless scoundrels, unforgiving land, and a feisty frontier woman who refuses to be bought, bullied, or wooed.

He came to find his fortune. He might just lose his heart—or his life—in the process.

 

 

 

 

The Rose of Sharon by Kara O’Neal–and a giveaway

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Howdy, fellow western romance readers! It’s great to be back!

I’m excited to share the sixth book in my Wildflowers of Texas series – THE ROSE OF SHARON – with y’all.

This romance features Miss Libby Mae Truman, who first appeared in PRICKLY POPPY. Libby became quite the person for me. She’s formidable and had suffered a broken heart, so I just had to give her a happy ending.

We also meet the man who adores her in PRICKLY POPPY. Except…he’s already married.

Brannon Welch has had a painful life, but he’s managed it with as much care as he possibly could. He’s secretly in love with Libby, and when his wife deserts him, he decides to go after what he wants.

This is my first “later in life” romance, and I must say that I truly enjoyed writing these two characters. They are both people I admire, and I think you will, as well!

This series has been interesting, because each heroine connects with a wildflower in some way. When I first “met” Libby, her flower came instantly to my mind.

The Rose of Sharon is strikingly beautiful, and it can withstand the harshest elements of West Texas. This describes Libby perfectly. She’s a leader, manages all sorts of problems and people, and doesn’t cower in a corner when faced with something difficult. She’s a “general of the west” for sure!

 

THE ROSE OF SHARON represents Libby’s resilience. If you had to pick a flower that describes your personality, which one would it be and why? One lucky commentor will win a free copy (print or ebook)!

Blurb

Brownwood, Texas, 1883

Libby Truman was once a fool for love, and she vowed never again to be so ridiculous. Time has passed, and she’s now forty-two, a pillar of society, and in complete control of her life. But when someone begins leaving the striking blossoms of the Rose of Sharon for her, her heart begins to yearn.

Brannon Welch, forty-five, successful businessman, respected member of the town, is in love. But not with his wife. With Libby. He’s tired of hiding his feelings. And now that his wife has deserted him, he’s found the courage to give romance another try.

But vengeance comes for Libby, and Brannon must do whatever it takes to save her. Even if it means his own life.

Excerpt

He loved her.

He had to stop lying to himself, stop pretending.

He loved her.

Libby Truman.

Libby Mae Truman.

At the thought of her name, his heart swelled to almost bursting.

He allowed her angelic form to materialize in his mind’s eye, and his pulse began to race.

Letting out a slow breath, he rose from the chair behind his desk. He drifted closer to the second-story windows of his office and looked out at the sunset.

The red was blending into orange. West Texas had its beauty, and it never failed to amaze him. The rawness of the land, the untamed nature, had appealed to his soul, and despite what his wife had wanted, he’d settled here to build his legacy.

And that’s when it had all gone bad.

Penelope hadn’t wanted to live in Brownwood. She’d wanted Austin. Or Houston.

He’d put his foot down.

That had been his mistake, but he’d tried to make up for it. He’d worked his fingers to the bone, had created three companies, had amassed enough wealth to give her whatever she wanted.

Whatever she wanted, though, was never enough.

He hadn’t known that the strawberry-blonde curls, the sparkling hazel eyes, the sweet smile had hidden a selfish, manipulative viper.

After ten years of trying, he’d given up. He’d fallen out of love, which made having a marriage impossible. Not that Penelope had cared or noticed. She’d thrown all her efforts, time, love, and care into their son, Anson.

Who was now in prison. For murder.

As it always did, the memory of his child being arrested, tried, sentenced, and taken away made his heart crack. It was a wonder the organ still worked.

He thought about his life, catalogued his mistakes and regrets. Hanging his head, he slipped his hands into his pockets, pushing his gray suitcoat back.

There was only one bright spot in his world.

Libby Truman.

Blonde-headed, blue-eyed, petite.

Generous. Hard-working. Highly intelligent.

Fiercely independent.

They’d operated side-by-side over the years, both helping with various social functions. He’d sat on the Town Council multiple times, and she’d been the leader of many events that had needed the council’s approval. They also attended the same church, where she was very active, and had consistently inspired him to be the best he could be.

She was the epitome of womanhood.

And yet, she’d never married. He didn’t even know if she’d ever been courted.

The man who might turn her head would be the best of men.

And he was not.

Yes, he was a good businessman, and he had reasons to believe he was a good boss and a good Christian. But he’d failed as a husband and father, the two most important roles.

He lifted his head and gazed once again at the setting sun.

And thought of her.

Libby.

He loved her.

Brannon Welch loved Libby Truman.

He would hold the truth inside, though. He would never act on his feelings.

He had a wife. She’d deserted him, had moved back to Dallas, but he had one.

And Libby had principles. She never went back on them.

He smiled softly.

My God, how I love her.

Book Purchase Link:  https://books2read.com/u/3L1Q8D

Kara O’Neal is an award-winning author of over thirty historical romances. Humor, family, love, and romance take center stage in her novels, and her characters have been touted as “real, complex, and down-to-earth”. Her books are available in print and ebook.

When not writing, she’s a teacher, but she’s always a mother to three talented children, and the wife of a man quite worthy of being called “hero”.

Telling stories is her passion, and she does so with memorable characters and unique plots certain to keep you reading late into the night! Visit Kara O’Neal at http://www.karaoneal.com.

Where to Find Kara

Website ~ Instagram ~ Facebook ~ X ~ Pinterest ~ Newsletter ~ Goodreads ~ Bookbub ~ Amazon

 

The Cattleman’s Sweetheart by Sherry Shindelar–and a giveaway

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Mary Ann (Molly) Dyer met Charles Goodnight in 1864 at Fort Belknap, Texas. The Civil War, in its last year, had taken a toll on the Texas frontier. Charles, a former scout and ex-Texas Ranger, was part of the Frontier Regiment, a Texas militia assigned to protecting the frontier from Indian attacks. On his way to becoming one of the founders of the Texas cattle drives, Charles kept a herd of cattle on the side within riding distance of the fort.

The petite school teacher caught the eye of the rough and tumble soldier/scout/cattleman.

Molly wasn’t born to the hard life of the frontier. However, in 1854, a pledge her father made to Sam Houston led to her leaving the tranquil, civilized life of a prominent lawyer’s daughter in Tennessee and immigrating to Texas with her family. Settlers were just beginning to trickle into the lands surrounding Fort Belknap in the mid 1850’s, and Comanche raids were a constant threat.

Molly’s parents died a few years later, and she was left to support her three youngest brothers. She could have packed up and headed home to Tennessee. Instead, she stuck to the frontier and became a school teacher. As the Civil War ripped the nation apart, the Texas frontier rolled back a hundred miles in some places due to Indian raids. Fort Belknap hovered at the edge of what remained.

Molly was a smart, gutsy woman with a heart for others. Her strength and courage were as enduring as the prairie sun. Charles was a fighter, and a natural born frontiersman, who didn’t know the word “quit.” The spark of attraction between them that sprang to life in 1864 flourished into an acquaintance and courtship that endured Charles’s months or even year-long cattle drives as he mapped out the Goodnight-Loving Trail and started making a name for himself and worked to build an empire.

By 1868 and 1869, Molly was teaching in Weatherford, Texas, the supply hub for Charles’s cattle drives. She’d had enough of the extended courtship. This was the man she wanted to spend her life with, and he needed to make a decision. Eventually, she told him he needed to propose or be done courting. He married the love of his life in July 1870.

The refined school teacher traveled west with the rancher to the rough country near Pueblo, Colorado. They settled down on Charles’s ranch, but eventually, they found their true home in the Palo Duro Canyon, a 800 foot deep, ten to twenty mile wide canyon that stretched for one hundred and twenty miles. Together, they eventually managed over a million acres and more than a 100,000 cattle.

Molly and Charles’s love endured long stretches of time apart, with cattle drives keeping him away for several seasons at a time. With only one female neighbor in the vast area of the canyon, Molly befriended the cowboys at the ranch and the occasional Indian that traveled through.

Sherry Shindelar Website

 

She would often go six months or a year without seeing anyone while the men were away on cattle drives. The beautiful walls of Palo Duro, colored like red Spanish skirts, must have felt like the end of the earth at times. But Molly thrived. She ran the ranch in her husband’s absence and was a friend to all in need, including the buffalo.

 

 

 

 

 

Her heart ached for the baby bison orphaned by the wholesale slaughter of the herds from the late 1860’s through the 1880’s. She rescued and cared for the calves, bottle-feeding them when needed. Her efforts helped save the southern buffalo from extinction.

 

Throughout the Goodnight’s fifty-six year marriage, Charles was a man who enjoyed the thrill of adventure and the unknown, willing to take great risks, gaining and losing land and wealth in the process. Molly was his foundation, the North Star of his compass.1 For his sake, she endured the loneliness of an entire canyon, but instead of being defeated, she thrived in his world and made a name for herself alongside his. She was described as a bubbly person, full of energy and heart. The spark of attraction ignited in 1864 between the school teacher and the cattleman blazed into an enduring flame that neither distance, time, hardship, or differences could snuff out. After her death, Charles “lost himself,” because he’d lost the keeper of his heart.

The epitaph inscribed on Molly’s gravestone reads, “One who spent her life in the service of others.”

Charles Goodnight makes a cameo appearance in the third book of my Lone Star Redemption series, Texas Reclaimed. Goodnight’s wild bronc ride in the story is a real event, but the real love in my story sparks between Ben McKenzie and Cora Scott.

To win a copy of Texas Reclaimed, leave an answer to this question in the comments below: If you were Molly Goodnight, would you have stayed behind on the ranch all of those months alone, or you would you have insisted on going with your husband on the cattle drives? Why?

 

  1. Botkin, Jane Little. “I Accepted a Challenge: Researching and Writing Mary Ann Goodnight’s Story.” com/2024/03/i-accepted-a-challenge-researching-and-writing-mary-ann-goodnights-story/. 11 March 202

 Originally from Tennessee, Sherry loves to take her readers into the past. A romantic at heart, she is an avid student of the Civil War and the Old West. When she isn’t busy writing, she is an English professor, working to pass on her love of writing to her students. Sherry is a multi-award-winning writer. She currently resides in Minnesota with her husband of forty-one years. She has three grown children and three grandchildren. Sherry is currently writing the fourth book in her Lone Star Redemption series. The series is set on the Texas frontier in the 1860’s and features some of her favorite tropes: enemies to lovers, captive narrative, Native Americans, scarred heroes, and feisty heroines.

Texas Reclaimed

Can love blossom between a woman haunted by her family’s past and a man with a war-scarred heart?

Cora Scott is determined to hold onto her family’s Texas ranch and provide a stable home for her young half brother, Charlie, despite the mounting challenges of post-Civil War frontier life. But when a scheming creditor threatens to seize their land, she must accept help from Ben McKenzie, a former Yankee soldier sent by her late brother. Though Ben’s generosity and strength draw her, the man’s private struggle she stumbles upon—too reminiscent of her father’s alcoholism—makes her question whether she can trust her heart to him.

Ben McKenzie arrives in Texas intent on fulfilling his promise to his dying friend to protect Cora and Charlie. While using his inheritance to save their ranch, he battles not only the loss of their cattle but also his dependency on laudanum—a medicine that turned into a curse after his imprisonment at Andersonville. As his feelings for Cora deepen, he must choose between his promise to his father to take over their Philadelphia newspaper and his growing dream of a life with Cora in Texas.

Come in and let’s chat.

Is There Ever Such a Thing as a New Idea?

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We’re so happy to welcome back guest author Nancy Fraser! She’s toting four books to give away so be sure to leave a comment.  

One of the things authors struggle with the most is the challenge of finding a new historical romance trope… something that hasn’t been done hundreds of times. It’s not easy.

It helps if you’re writing your book as part of a multi-author series, because the initial trope is already there. Whether it’s a mail-order bride scenario, or wagon train romances, or even the land rush decades, the author’s job is to breathe fresh life into a tried-and-true formula.

Where to begin?
One thing that helps me is to first set a time period. I’m partial to the late 1880s or early 1890s, and for the silliest of reasons. I want indoor plumbing. I can’t tell you the number of historical romances I’ve read where nobody goes to the bathroom because there’s nothing engaging about hiking to the outhouse.

Indoor plumbing came to the cities and states east of the Mississippi not long after the Civil War. In some instances, e.g., well-to-do homes, it a was even earlier. However, the luxury was slow to arrive out west. In the more remote areas, homes didn’t rid themselves of the outdoor facilities until well into the 1900s. As a child (1950s), I remember one aunt who still used her outhouse. Believe me, for an eight-year-old, that pre-bedtime hike was both exciting and scary. Especially when you were being followed by an ornery turkey.

I digress. My intention was to talk about finding a different story angle.

So, how do you find that one ‘new’ story? Once I’ve set my time period and chosen my main character’s profession and the location for my story, I search for late 19th century facts about the area and the job, e.g., “1880’s medical facilities in rural Oklahoma”. Once I’ve found something quirky or, at least, interesting, I can fashion my plot around a little-known fact. I’ve even begun adding a feature to the back of most of my books called, “The More You Know”. I recap my research and share what I’ve learned over and above weaving it into my story.

Earlier this month, I released Lost in Her Dreams as part of the Chasing a Dream Series. I set the story in Alaska at the time of the Klondike Gold Rush. My fact sheet was full for that one.

Once an author has an idea for something unusual, the plot twist comes next. The what-ifs are used to tweak the facts without breaking them. Whether your unique story comes from the location or the premise itself, there are a number of ways to work in new ideas without compromising your research.

I’ve had the privilege of writing for a most unusual series of western historical romances beginning late last year. The series is titled, “The Bride Who…”. The objective of the series was to put our heroine brides in unusual circumstances. The titles in the series have been wonderfully entertaining.

Yesterday, February 26th, marked the release of my third book in the series. Titled: The Bride Who Writes Penny Novels, it was fun to create an alter ego for my heroine. Worried that some would deem her a loose woman, she chooses a nom de plum to honor her family history and stay hidden at the same time.

My first two books in the series were equally as much fun (and as challenging). The Bride Who Keeps Running Away came first and is an old-west reimagining of the movie, Runaway Bride with Julia Roberts and Richard Gere.

The second book, The Bride Who Reads Too Much, gave my heroine a goal and a profession… one that the hero was happy to accept (eventually).

Whether it’s research that drives the author’s new idea, or maybe a unique group premise, the important thing is always to entertain and draw the reader into the story.


Here’s a sneak peek at The Bride Who Writes Penny Novels:

Kathryn (Kate) Montgomery has a secret… a big one.

Trained as a schoolteacher, she’s happy to spend her days teaching the primary grades in one of Denver’s most prestigious schools. By night, Kate sets aside her primers for a vocation of a different kind. Writing penny novels.

Left an inheritance of property in the small town of Elbert, Colorado, Kate decides to leave Denver behind and try her hand at writing full time.

Sheriff Rafe Nichols is summoned by a neighbor of the old Montague property because they suspect a squatter. When he arrives at the slightly rundown home, he’s surprised to find a beautiful, young woman who claims to be the owner. They butt heads when he tells her he’ll need to check into the legality of her claim.

What will happen with the small town of Elbert discovers her alter-ego’s identity? And how will it effect her relationship with Rafe?
You can find Kate and her handsome sheriff on AMAZON
As with all my books, it’s enrolled in Kindle Unlimited and available in print.

When you’re looking for a new book to read, do you try to find something with an unusual plot, twist, or historical detail? Or do you prefer to stay with the tried and true? As a thank you for the commenters who will spend time with me today, I’m pleased to give away four prizes, two copies of The Bride Who Writes Penny Novels and two copies of Lost in Her Dreams. 



Until next time, stay happy, stay healthy, stay well-read.

Nancy

* * *

NANCY FRASER is a bestselling and award-winning author who can’t seem to decide which romance genre suits her best. So, she writes them all.

Her preferred genres are sweet western historical and sweet small-town contemporary. However, she has been known to dabble in the most unusual settings.

When not writing (which is almost never), Nancy dotes on her five wonderful grandchildren and looks forward to traveling and reading when time permits. Nancy lives in Atlantic Canada where she enjoys the relaxed pace and colorful people.

You can follow Nancy here:

Amazon Author Page ~ Bookbub ~ BlueSky Social  ~  Goodreads

 

The Most Fun You Can Have Doing Western Historical Research

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Hi! Nancy Fraser here! I’m so pleased to return to Petticoats & Pistols for another visit. Just last week, I uploaded my final book for 2025 and now I’m going to take a much needed few week’s off before I begin again working on 2026. Hard to believe we’ve almost reached another year-end, isn’t it?

Today, though, I want to talk about western research. There is a definite skill required to organize the information needed to accurately portray the wild west in the 1800s. So much we take for granted now, or assume is correct, wasn’t even heard of in the 1880s or before.

My favorite searches revolve around the following:

• When did my story’s location ceased to become a territory and attain statehood?
• When did my location first get a railroad? Iceboxes? Dare I say it… electricity?
• How far is my fictitious location from a larger city? (Of course that’s my decision, but I like to find a similar real location and pretend it’s my fake town for distance purposes.)
• What was the population of the territory in 1885?

All of the above are fun and often necessary searches. By far my favorites are these:

• What’s the old west slang word for “a handsome man”? (Answer: Belvidere)
• How would my crusty character say, “the end” or “closed”? (Answer: Eventuate)

I keep an ongoing list of western slang that I’ve sorted three ways: alphabetically, by subject, and by first-used date. Yes, I sometimes over-organize. At the moment, my list is over 150 words long.

I thought it might be fun to share thirty of my favorites in a Word Search. Go ahead and give it a try. Feel free to share your results in the comments below.


OLD WEST SLANG WORD SEARCH

Clothing styles are another fun search. The array of references out there is sometimes overwhelming (and not always accurate). Given I write mostly small-town settings with everyday characters, it’s hard to go wrong with a simple skirt and plain blouse, or a calico dress. Trousers (not jeans) for the men and a gray or off-white shirt. Jeans (specifically Levis) are okay if we’re into the mid to late 1870s. Even though plaid/flannel was created by the Welsh in the 17th century, the fabric didn’t become popular in the western U.S. until the late 19th century.

Because I also create a lot of my own covers, as well as covers for several multi-author series books, one of my biggest frustrations is finding the perfect outfit, but realizing the model is wearing far too much makeup for the time period. I’ve become an expert in removing telltale signs of red lipstick and eyeliner. Still, making that cover perfect is all part of what I consider research.

In this final quarter of the year, I’ve released two sweet, historical romances. Both books required extensive research, and both include a few of those colorful slang words or phrases. (What’s a long list if you don’t use it?”)

I’d love to give you a peek at both of my accomplished and feisty heroines, and the men who fall in love with them.

Addie: Mackinac Bride (National Park Brides Series)

Other than two years of college in Big Rapids, Adelaide (Addie) MacDonald has spent her entire life on Mackinac Island in northern Michigan. Just a child when President Grant designated Mackinac as a National Park in 1875, she and her family were at the dedication.

In the years since, many have left the island for bigger and better things, yet Addie stayed behind as one of the few civilian employees. It’s been her dream to someday leave the island and finish her degree in agriculture and one day own her own farm.

When Jonathan (Jon) Ferris first met Addie, she was only twelve, he was eighteen, and on his way to college. After graduation, his plan was to follow in his father’s footsteps and join the military. Now, ten years later, he’s returning to Mackinac to take over command of the fort and the park. When he first sees Addie again, he can’t believe his eyes. Gone are the freckles and bright red ponytail. In their place is a beautiful and confident young woman.

Will returning to the park be the permanence he wants for his career and for his life? Will verbally sparring with the opinionated Addie lead to something infinitely more interesting? More importantly, will Addie find a way to fulfil her dreams while keeping those she loves close?

You can find Addie and Jon’s story on #KindleUnlimited.



Dumplings by Daria (Old Timey Holiday Kitchen Series)

Doctor Daria Keller arrives in Whistler Falls Montana at the height of their first winter storm. With barely enough time to drop off her luggage, she finds herself whisked off to the clinic to help set broken arms and treat frostbite.

When Rancher Finn MacIsaac arrives at the clinic to claim his injured son, he mistakes Daria for a nurse and dismisses her instructions out of hand, preferring to wait for the doctor. When she informs him that she is a doctor, he still insists on waiting until he can speak to a man. Pegging him as a chauvinist, Daria rushes off to help other patients.

It’s inevitable that they’ll cross paths, especially when Daria and Finn’s housekeeper become fast friends. Daria settles into her new position as head of the town’s clinic and small hospital and earns the respect of all those around her. The only person she’s not become friends with is Finn.
As winter takes a firm hold on the area, Daria must make a house call north of town. A buggy accident causes her and Finn to be trapped in snowbound cabin with only their wits and Finn’s skill with an axe to keep them warm. They do their best to avoid one another until they realize they’re both hiding hurt from their past. Over a tin of beans, they finally open up and share their secrets.

Can two people who started off at odds make up for lost time? Or are they destined to be nothing more than friends?

Finn and Daria’s romance is also available on #KindleUnlimited.


With the holidays fast approaching, I’d love to know your go-to holiday side dish or your family’s favorite activity. I’m also giving away one eBook copy of each of my featured books. Just comment below for your chance to win.

Until next time, I wish you happiness, good health, time to read, and a joyous holiday season!

Nancy

NANCY FRASER is a bestselling and award-winning author who can’t seem to decide which romance genre suits her best. So, she writes them all.

Her preferred genres are sweet western historical and sweet small-town contemporary. However, she has been known to dabble in the most unusual settings.

 

When not writing (which is almost never), Nancy dotes on her five wonderful grandchildren and looks forward to traveling and reading when time permits. Nancy lives in Atlantic Canada where she enjoys the relaxed pace and colorful people.

 

You can follow Nancy here:

 

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