History – General

Like Tomatoes? Or Corn? Or Pigs or Bees? Join the Club! by Pam Crooks

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Corn Clubs

After the turn of the century, most farmers didn’t trust new technology. Their sons, however, were more receptive, and guided by agricultural teachers and researchers who hoped the latest techniques would be embraced and then adopted on the farm, they formed after-school clubs where the boys learned hands-on lessons to improve corn production.

They were allocated an acre of land, usually given by their fathers. Their leaders taught them how to improve the quality of their seeds, how better to cultivate the corn – and make some nice money besides.

In addition, they were expected to keep precise records of their yields and expenses, as well as to participate in local, regional, and state corn contests, the precursor to today’s county fairs.  Any prize money won was theirs to keep, as well as any profits made from their acre plot.  With these funds, the boys were able to help their families with purchases otherwise deemed unaffordable–clothes, school supplies, and  fun extras. Once their successes were observed, the corn clubs provided their seed to local farmers, boosting economies.

Eventually, the corn clubs expanded to include different crops and even livestock, peanuts, cotton, and potatoes, all through the successful concept of teaching young boys important agricultural skills.

Hey, what about the girls?

Not long after, notable women like Jane McKimmon Simpson, a home economist from North Carolina, and rural schoolteacher, Marie Samuella Cromer, also from the South, recognized the importance of the boys club successes and that they could, indeed, be applied to young girls. They chose to focus on tomatoes, since cultivating them were not as strenuous as raising corn (running a plow down the fields would have required far too much upper body strength).  The women and girls, eager to add to the family’s support at a time when most farms didn’t have running water or electricity, loved the idea of harvesting tomatoes, and soon Tomato Clubs flourished.

Burdensome?  I think I’d resent that!

Tomato Clubs

Tomato Club members were aged about 12 – 18 years and cultivated individual plots of 1/10 acre.  They worked in groups to can and market their produce, and like the boys, kept the profits.

Since most housewives were accustomed to buying tins instead of glass jars, the clubs focused on canning the tomatoes in #3 size tin or steel containers, sealing them with solder.  While the Mason jar had been invented, access to a pressure canner and the jars themselves was scarce.

Like the boys, the girls were required to document their work in multi-page reports, giving them a female touch with uniquely decorated covers, some tied with ribbons, and all precisely written.

One young lady named Lizzie reported harvesting 2,000 pounds of tomatoes and selling 800 #3 size cans, earning a profit of $78 (about $2,470 today). Some serious cash for a young girl in the early 1900s, right?  Good for her!

Another young lady in 1913, Sadie, wrote, “A girl can make money for herself if she desires and still stay right on the farm.”

Another in 1915 writes, “It has been a way by which I could not only have my own spending money and pay my expenses at the Farm Camp, but I also have a bank account of sixty dollars.” (About $1,881 today.)

As you may have guessed, corn clubs and tomato clubs (as well as potato clubs, bee clubs, poultry clubs, and so on!) were the precursor for 4-H Clubs, which over time evolved beyond agriculture to fostering leadership, personal growth, and all kinds of life skills.

 

Have you ever been in a club while growing up?  Did you find it meaningful and educational or more social? Did you have 4-H groups at your school?

 

 

 

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A New Book Soon to be Released — and a Give-away

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Welcome to another sensational Tuesday!

What am I giving away this month?  I’ll be doing a drawing for the mass market paperback (this is the original edition of this book) of RED HAWK’S WOMAN.

This is book #3 in THE LOST CLAN series.  Though all the books are related, they are all different stories and are all a stand alone book.  Originally published by Berkley in the early 2000’s, it is a solid historical book with a strong mystery connected to it, as well as a paranormal element.

But, please allow me to give you a synopsis of the book

RED HAWK’S WOMAN

Their passion is thunder and lightning.  Their fate could be a flood of sorrow.

THE LOST CLAN, BOOK 3

Red Hawk’s most precious childhood memory is of a single morning with a girl whose beauty seemed lit from within with magic.  Now, years later, she could very well hold the key to a centuries-old curse – but when his visions lead him to her again, no recognition lights her eyes.

At age twenty-five, Effie Rutledge has missed her chance for marriage, but the daughter of a renowned archaeologist would rather get her hands dirty on a dig than cleaning up after some man.

She is determined to finish her father’s quest to recover four precious artifacts that could free a lost clan from a half life in the mists, but with her expedition reported as jinxed, there are no guides to be had.  Except one tall, enigmatic native who draws her as naturally as water flows to the sea.

Even when memories reconnect, they struggle to trust each other.  Worse, their once-in-a-lifetime passion risks the Thunder god’s wrath – and the future of the entire Lost Clan.

Warning:  Within the pages of this book is an all-consuming passion, so deep, so sensuous, it might cause you to want to spend the night in a loved one’s arms.

To enter into the drawing for this book, just leave a comment.

And then, on another note, I thought I’d let you know that my latest effort, entitled, SHE BELONGS IN MY WORLD, is in editing right now and I hope to have the book published and out for sale in early April.

And so I thought I’d give you an inside glance at the cover for the book.  This is book #5 in The Medicine Man series.  As you can see, this is a winter scene and the hero of the book is wearing a capote, an item of clothing worn by many of the Northwestern tribes in the winter.

But, what is a capote?  The capote in these days of the past was a blanket made into a coat.  Usually it was white and might have strips on it or other decorations.  These commonly had a hood, were very warm and were preferred by the men of the tribes because of it’s white color, which blended in with the countryside and made it a little easier when they were hunting.

Nowadays, capotes are still in style in the northern regions of this country, but they are also a little fancier.  But, they are still made in the style of the original, which was a blanket made into a coat.  I’ll post some pictures here so you can see them as they were worn in the late 1800’s.

This is one of my favorite pictures of the time because it shows the style of the capote, the hair style worn at this time by many of the northern tribes and also shows the style of the white man’s clothing.  These two young men were obviously friends.  Note the beautifully beaded gun case our Blackfeet (Pikuni band) young man carries.  The coat the young Blackfeet man is wearing is a capote.

To the right here are a couple of Blackfeet (Pikuni band) men wearing capotes.  Notice also the style of the two women’s clothing in the photo.  All are wearing moccasins.
This is another Blackfeet young man, although he is of the blood band of the tribe, which resides in Canada.  He is holding some kind of weapon, perhaps a tomahawk or something similar to it.
This picture was posed in front of a tepee or lodge (as they were often called).  And note the hairstyle and moccasins.  The Blackfeet wore three braids.  One on each side of the face and one in back.
And this last picture is a painting by Karl Bodmer (the artist who accompanied Prince Maximillian in 1832 to Fort McKensie)  It is of special interest to me because the blanket he is wearing is one which could have been made into a capote.
Notice the difference in hairstyle between the 1830’s northern style and the later style abive (1850-1890).
Well, so much for men’s fashion in coats and the blankets they wore during the winter while hunting or attending to other chores.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this little excursion into the past.
If you’d like to enter the drawing, just leave a comment
Have a beautiful and a blessed day as well as for rest of the week.

The Legend of Nancy Hart by Jo-Ann Roberts

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“Women are like teabags. We don’t know our true strength until we are in hot water.”  

Eleanor Roosevelt

If you’ve read any of my blogs here on P&P, you’ll recall I’ve often gone down the rabbit hole while researching my books. Which is exactly what happened a few weeks ago while I was researching information for an upcoming Civil War romance set to release in 2026, and came across a book, “The Cotillion Brigade” by Glen Carey.

Based on the true story of the celebrated Nancy Hart Rifles, “The Cotillion Brigade” is an inspiring story of the Civil War’s ravages on family and love, the resilient bonds of sisterhood amid devastation, and the miracle of reconciliation between bitter enemies. Twenty-one-year-old year-old Nannie Colquitt Hill and her “Fighting Nancies” stand between their beloved homes and the Yankee torches.  The all-female unit was composed of wives and daughters of Confederate soldiers.

While this book caught my interest, it was the mention of the Nancy Hart rifles that sent me tumbling down that tangled web. So, in honor of Women’s History Month here is the legend of Nancy Hart…

Nancy was born Ann Morgan in 1747. According to contemporary accounts, “Aunt Nancy,” as she was often called, was a tall, gangly woman who towered six feet in height. Like the frontier she inhabited, she was rough-hewn and rawboned, with red hair and a smallpox-scarred face. She was also cross-eyed. One early account pointed out that Hart had “no share of beauty—a fact she herself would have readily acknowledged, had she ever enjoyed an opportunity of looking into a mirror.”

Hart’s physical appearance was matched by a feisty personal demeanor characterized by a hotheaded temper, a fearless spirit, and a penchant for exacting vengeance upon those who offended her or harmed her family and friends. Members of the Cherokee Indian tribe soon began to refer to her as “Wahatche,” which may have meant “war woman.” She was also a domineering wife. Many remembered that she, rather than her husband, ran the Hart household, which eventually included six sons and two daughters. Although she was illiterate, Hart was amply blessed with the skills and knowledge necessary for frontier survival; she was an expert herbalist, a skilled hunter, and despite her crossed eyes, an excellent shot.

Nancy was known for being a devoted Patriot, who strongly disliked the British and their cause. She dedicated most of her life to fighting against it. She also fought British and Loyalist soldiers on her own property in the Georgia backcountry on multiple occasions. In one such instance, Nancy was making lye soap, and the liquid was extremely hot. Her daughter noticed a pair of eyes peeking through the wall of their log cabin. She alerted her mother, and Nancy stopped to throw a ladle of steaming soap mixture right into the eyes of the British soldier. She tended the soldier’s wounds before surrendering him to the Patriots.

Perhaps the most famous legend states that British soldiers entered the Hart property looking for a local patriot leader they had been pursuing. When they knocked on the door, Nancy refused to give them any information. Convinced she was lying, the soldiers slaughtered the last turkey on the property, barged into her house, and demanded Nancy cook it for them.

As the soldiers made themselves comfortable, Nancy served them plenty of her corn liquor, getting them drunk enough that they would not notice her sneaking their weapons outside the house each time she walked by them. Then, her daughter snuck outside and used a conch shell to alert the neighbors that they needed assistance.

When the soldiers caught on to what Nancy was doing with their muskets and threatened her, she turned the weapon on them. The soldiers ignored her warning, so she shot and killed the first to approach her. Nancy and her daughter held the remaining at gunpoint until the neighbors arrived. The rest of the soldiers were hanged on a nearby tree.

While this story is steeped in legend, it was given credence in 1912 by the discovery of six bodies on the Hart property. It was said that the skeletal remains were buried three feet underground and had been there for at least a century.

In 1853, the state of Georgia formed a new county from parts of Franklin and Elbert counties and named it Hart County after Nancy Hart. She is the only woman with a county named after her in Georgia. Near the city of Hartwell, G.A., the U.S. government dedicated a monument to her that says, “To commemorate the heroism of Nancy Hart.” In 1932, the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR), with the help of the Civilian Conservation Corps, rebuilt Nancy’s cabin. The DAR gave the cabin to the state of Georgia, and the area, about 14 acres, was turned into a state park.

My May 30th Release!

An outlaw looking for a fresh start. A schoolteacher who might hold the key to the entire town’s salvation.

Ash “Shotgun” McCrae can never make up for all the wrong he’s done. After leaving a notorious outlaw gang, he thought he’d discovered the peaceful existence he’d been looking for when he found work laying tracks for the railroad in Rivers Bend. Yet, when trouble shows up in town, he fears he may never free himself from the burden of his past.

Schoolteacher Kate Cummings stands as the one bright light in contrast to the curious looks and behind-the-glove whispers blowing through the town. The arrival of Padraic “Patch” Rooney and his gang challenges the small-town serenity she holds dear. Still, her steadfast trust in Ash awakens the strength of courage within them all, giving rise to the collective defiance against the approaching danger.

In a deadly game of dangerous outlaws and secret schemes, Kate and Ash must decide whether they are willing to risk everything for their love, including their lives.

 Pre-Order Link

 

 

 

 

Mailing Children

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I read  an interesting question the other day — “When did it become illegal to mail children?”

The answer is in June 1920. After that date you could no longer have your children delivered to relatives by the US Postal Service.

The US Parcel Post Service began January 1, 1913, allowing rural communities to receive packages that weighed more than four pounds without relying on the private delivery services. This was a huge boon to both mail order companies and the rural recipients of their goods.

The original regulations for what could or could not be mailed through the Parcel Service were vague, leading to people mailing all kinds of unusual things, like bricks and snakes, just because they could. Regulations during those early years varied from post office to post office depending on how the postmaster interpreted the rules. Just weeks after the parcel service began, an Ohio couple, Jesse and Matilda Beagle, mailed their eight-month-old son to his grandmother who lived a few miles away. The postage cost 15 cents and he was insured for $50.

In February of 1914, four-year-old Charlotte May Pierstorff was mailed from Grangeville, Idaho and traveled by train to her grandmother who lived 70 miles away. She was accompanied by her mother’s cousin, who worked as a mail clerk. The 53 cents postage was much cheaper than a train ticket and the stamps were affixed to her coat.  When the Post Master General heard of this incident, he banned the mailing of human beings.

The ban didn’t slow some people down. In 1915 a woman mailed her six-year-old daughter 720 miles from Florida to Virginia by train for 15 cents. All in all there are seven verified cases of children being mailed. In August of 1915, three-year-old Maud Smith was mailed 40 miles to visit her sick mother in Kentucky. The postmaster got called onto the carpet for that incident and that was the last recorded child mailing.

People still tried to mail their children, however, and in June of 1920, the assistant Postmaster General refused the request to mail two children as “harmless animals” and the practice was officially outlawed. It was still legal to mail bees, bugs, baby chicks and other harmless animals, but not those of the human variety.

Ready to Exercise? Grab your Corset! by Pam Crooks

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Like many women my age, I discovered I was losing some bone density. Nothing major or scary, but my doctor urged me to take more calcium and develop a weight-lifting routine.  I’m definitely more of an outside walker (every day) and much less of a weight-lifter (almost never), but dutifully, I looked into what I could do to build more muscle mass.

Fortunately, my insurance will cover a gym membership, which is, of course, much cheaper for the company than paying for hospital stays, surgeries, and physical therapies for their insured customers, and more importantly encourages a healthier lifestyle.  I’m not much into going to the gym every day, but a brand new one opened up close to me, and it is really nice.

So my husband and I enrolled in their SilverSneakers classes, which, if you’re not familiar, are stretching, weight-lifting, zumba, water aerobics classes, etc, designed for seniors.  Ahem, people my age.  The classes are enjoyable and low-stress, and their workouts are excellent.

After that first class, as we were leaving that spiffy, sprawling, modern gym that had more exercise equipment than I would even know how to use, I couldn’t help thinking about women throughout history who would never have dreamed of such a high-tech place to exercise.  Farm and ranch wives didn’t need a work-out routine when they already worked hard inside the home and out, caring for crops and livestock, with a minimum of tools to make their work easier.  I can only imagine how tired they’d be at the end of every day!

But what about the women in cities who were raised not to exert themselves?

Nineteenth-century America required modesty for women. Young boys could compete in sports and games, but daughters were expected to get their exercise from doing normal household chores.  For those females who might be prone to athleticism, any public performance was decried as immodest, selfish, and attention-seeking, especially if she was in her childbearing years.

However, in the 1830s, a fad called “calisthenics” arrived from Europe. Women took to the light choreographed movements that were set to music and resembled dance steps. Society approved the routines as graceful and dignified, emulating upper class beauty and elegance.

As the years passed, females increased their physical activity by walking in zigzags, marching in place, bending the arms and legs, and skipping, their intent mainly on increasing blood flow and preventing bad posture. In time, with the advent of elite women’s schools and country clubs, more aristocratic activities like tennis, croquet, archery, and bathing-beauty swimming in lakes or beaches thrived in popularity.

For others, there were opportunities to exercise at home with these manmade contraptions for those who could afford them. There was no such thing as “work-out clothes” like we have, and so women simply exercised in private and in their regular clothes which included, yep, their corset.

Men even exercised in their suits.

By the 1890s, the bicycle had created a social revolution and eventually became accepted as a means for women to stay active. Two million bicycles were being manufactured every year, and like today, they were designed with a “step-through” frame to enable women to climb on and off. They certainly dressed for the occasion, hats and all. Some added weights to their dress hems to keep them from flying up, and this young lady could most certainly be wearing her corset.

Can you imagine?  Ha!

The Olympics began in ancient Greece, but were abolished because of paganism.  The games were finally revived in 1896, although women were not allowed to compete until 1920.  A special “Women’s Olympics” on a smaller scale than the men’s began in 1922 and continued well into the 1930s.

Fast forward to today, and exercising is roundly applauded and encouraged for its health benefits for all ages. Children as young as two can enroll in tumbling classes. Soccer and t-ball teams are organized for four-year-olds. Sports of all kinds abound for male and female, young and old, in public arenas open to spectators who cheer on the participants. The benefits are enormous, and we’re all living longer lives because of them.

The SilverSneakers program began in 1992, partnering with health care plans like mine to help seniors enjoy convenience access to fitness programs geared just for them.

From their website:

“From national gyms to local community centers, there are more participating fitness locations available in the U.S. to SilverSneakers members than there are Starbucks.”

We’ve come a long way, for sure, and thank goodness for that!

 

Do you like to exercise?  What’s your favorite kind of physical activity? 

Are you familiar with SilverSneakers?  Do you have their program near you? 

 

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

 

New 25th Anniversary Book Just Released — Plus a Giveaway

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Howdy!  Howdy!  And Welcome to another terrfic Tuesday!

News!  News!

I’ve just re-released another 25th Anniversary book, LONE ARROW’S PRIDE.  The book has been re-edited and proofed and has a gorgeous new cover.  And, I’ll be giving away two copies of this book free.  However, the book is currently on sale for $.99 and is also on KU.

 

This book has an interesting history.  And I’d love to share it with you.  This is really the only hidden treasure book I’ve written, while also being a solid Historical Romance/Native American.

The story begins when I was writing for AVON/HarperCollins Books.  I had submitted a story idea, which my editor rejected for some various reasons.

So I had to come up with a new story idea and I remember sitting now in my livingroom brainstorming with my husband and my brother-in-law…who used to mine for gold out in the desert.  Well, they have some great stories of goldmining in the Superstition Mountains.  And so, all those years ago, I was told the following story.  Hope you’ll enjoy!

The cover off to the left is the cover made by Samhain Publishing.

What I am about to tell you, by the way, is a true tale, or perhaps we should call it a legend as told to me by my husband and brother-in-law.

In Arizona, there is a mountain range called the Superstitious Mountains, just outside of Phoenix. Some of you might be familiar with the legend of the Lost Dutchman’s gold mine. Some may not. Bear with me.

There are many, many miners who go into the Superstitious Mountains today, hunting for the Lost Dutchman gold mine. Many years ago stones were found, upon which was written some hieroglyphics, thought to be part of a map. Many of these stones were discovered all over the Superstitious Mountains and all of them were thought to be part of a map that would lead others to the Lost Dutchman’s gold mine. Today, those stones are on display in a bank where all can see them and try to discern where the gold mine is.

What is not generally known is that many hundreds of years previous, there were Jesuit priests in these mountains. They befriended the Indians and managed to get the Indians to bring them gold from these mountains, whereupon the Jesuit priests made artifacts out of the gold. Many, many artifacts.

To the left is the original cover of LONE ARROW’S PRIDE.

These priests were recalled to Spain. Most of them refused to go and so Spain sent an army into the Southwest to drive the priests home. The priests got word of the oncoming army and, deciding not to let the army get their gold, nor take the gold back to Spain where it would most likely be claimed by the king, they hid their treasure. It is the Jesuit priests who etched the map on the stones in hieroglyphics and left these stones in fairly inconspicuous places, thinking to come back and collect the gold at a later date.

Recently miners have found, after using the stones on display, and digging about twenty-two feet deep in these mountains, two crosses with more hieroglyphics on them.

To date, neither the Lost Dutchman’s mine, nor the stash of gold from the Jesuit priests has been found. Added to this is the fact that the Indians believed that the Thunder God lived in the Superstitious Mountains and in fact, up until the late nineteenth century, no one was able to go into the mountains and mine the gold without great risk to their lives. Any white person found in the mountains was at once killed.

Another interesting fact is that earlier on, two brothers got word of the mines in those mountains and were mining one that they had found. They made two successful trips into the mountains and obtained a great deal of gold. On the third trip they were discovered by the Indians. And so the brothers loaded up all of their gold and put it into bags, which they tied onto their mules.

Of course, these two brothers were found and killed by the Indians, but the mules were let go, still carrying the bags of gold. The last bag of gold to be found was in the 1920s or 30s (I forget which), and contained gold to the amount of approximately $12,000 at that time—today the find would have been close to half a million dollars.

So the question is: Has anyone ever found the Lost Dutchman’s Mine? Not to my knowledge.

Has anyone discovered the gold that was hidden by the Jesuit priests? Not that we know of. But I would have to ask you this question. If you were there and you found it, would you tell anyone?

**********

So, I took these stories and brought some of what I learned into the Bighorn Mountains in Montana where the legend lives on (but in a different location).  Now this is Crow country.

To the left here i a photo of Hail Stone, a young Crow Indian who, by the way, married a white woman.

I’ll close up the blog today with the synopsis of the story.

LONE ARROW’S PRIDE

Buried Treasure Shines Brightest in the Dark

Ten years after she survived a cholera epidemic that wiped out her entire wagon train, Carolyn White is on a quest to shake off the bad luck that follows her everywhere and which now threatens her adopted family. The unending string of mishaps can have only one source: the gold piece that she, in childish innocence and wonder, once took from a stolen cache.

She tells herself her journey to Crow Country is merely to put the piece back in the cave where she found it. Yet, in her heart she knows it’s the memory of Lone Arrow, the boy who sheltered her there. The boy whose face—now that of a man’s—inhabits her dreams.

Lone Arrow’s anger knows no bounds. Anger with the white woman he suspects isn’t being truthful to him. Anger with himself that he cannot ignore the beauty who captured his heart even as a boy. Though trust is in short supply, he can’t deny his burning need for her. Whatever else she may be, she is his destiny.

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

Warning: Sensuous Romance which contains a passion that could lead to soul-stirring love.

If you’d like to enter the drawing for a free copy of the ebook, LONE ARROW’S PRIDE, just leave a comment and you’re autormatically entered into the drawing.  And, remember, the book is free on KindleUnlimited and is on sale now for $.99.

Here is the Amazon link for the book:

https://tinyurl.com/LONEARROWSPRIDE

 

Welcome Guest Author Misty M. Beller and a Give Away!

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I’m so excited to visit with my Petticoats and Pistols family again!

My latest book, Guarding the Mountain Man’s Secret, released this week! In it, our heroine and her uncle are working with a group of surveyors to map out potential routes for the coming railroad.

One of the things I love about writing historical romance is the detail I get to research for each book. So much of my research doesn’t make it into the story, but I still love to learn it!

Surveying back then was no walk in the park. These brave folks had to trek through some seriously rough terrain, lugging around heavy equipment like compasses, levels, and surveyor’s chains (called Gunter’s chain). The chains were a whopping 66 feet long, with 100 links! Surveyors would stretch them out to measure distances, and let me tell you, it was no easy feat.

Gunter’s Chain & Surveyor’s Compass. Courtesy of the New Hampshire Historical Society

One of the surveyor’s secret weapons was triangulation. By measuring angles between distant points and doing some fancy math, they could figure out exactly where landmarks were and create a grid of reference points across the land. This technique was a game-changer, allowing for more accurate maps that covered bigger areas.

In my story, the surveying was done for the railroad. But history tells us that later in 1879, the U.S. Geological Survey stepped onto the scene with a larger mission: to create detailed maps of the entire country, including the wild, wild West. Surveyors working for this agency had their work cut out for them. They battled through dense forests, climbed steep mountains, and crossed dangerous rivers, all to gather the data needed for these maps.

So the next time you look at a map of the American West, give a nod to those early surveyors. These hardworking folks played a huge role in shaping the frontier, giving settlers the information they needed to build new lives and communities. Without their dedication and skill, the West might have remained a mystery forever!

To celebrate, I’m excited to give away a signed copy of the previous book in this series, Pretending to be the Mountain Man’s Wife! To be entered for the giveaway, I’d love to hear some of the interesting jobs you’ve seen women perform in historical fiction novels. Leave a comment below to share. 

I pray you enjoy Miles and Clara’s story in Guarding the Mountain Man’s Secret!

In the wild mountains of the Montana Territory, the Coulter ranch is a place of family, second
chances…and a hidden fortune.
Miles is the youngest of six brothers, and he’s spent most of his life helping guard the family’s
secret: a sapphire mine hidden deep within the Montana mountains. With threats from a past
enemy looming, a survey team’s arrival stirs suspicion—until he meets Clara Pendleton, whose
presence captivates him.

Clara Pendleton joins her uncle on a survey team tasked with mapping the coming railroad's
path, only to find herself entangled with the enigmatic Coulter family. When her uncle’s accident
leads them to find refuge in the Coulter home, Clara is irresistibly drawn to Miles Coulter and his quiet strength. This feels like the haven she craves…until a series of mysterious attacks endanger
everyone on the ranch.

As Christmas approaches, a sleigh ride through a snowy wonderland fans the growing spark
between Clara and Miles into a flame, but a broken runner leads Clara to discover the family's
secret. Now she’s faced with an impossible choice: betray the man she’s coming to love or risk
the lives of his entire family—and her own uncle.

From a USA Today bestselling author comes a mountain saga filled with high-stakes adventure,
forced proximity, a Christmas surprise, and love that heals wounded hearts.

Amazon   Barnes and Noble     Google Play   Books 2 Read

Misty M. Beller is a USA Today bestselling author with over 1 million books old. She writes romantic mountain stories, set on the 1800s frontier and woven with the truth of God’s love. Raised on a farm and surrounded by family, Misty developed her love for horses, history, and adventure. These days, her husband and children provide fresh adventure every day, keeping her both grounded and crazy.

Misty’s passion is to create inspiring Christian fiction infused with the grandeur of the mountains, writing historical romance that displays God’s abundant love through the twists and turns in the lives of her characters. Sharing her stories with readers is a dream come true for Misty. She writes from her country
home in South Carolina and escapes to the mountains any chance she gets.

Author Page   Amazon   Facebook   Instagram   BookBub   Good Reads

 

A Glimpse Into My Civil War Family Connection

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I was talking the other day with some of the fillies about my early American Colonial history and my relationship to Nathan Hale. Yes, the famous “I regret I have but one life to lose for my country” guy. FYI, he didn’t have any children, but his sister did, and it’s through her that my family can trace the connection.

I also have ties to the Civil War. My great-great-great grandfather Edward Talcott Ingraham fought for the North as part of Connecticut’s Sixteenth Regiment. Though taken prisoner later in the war, he amazingly survived the horrific conditions at the notorious Andersonville Prison, eventually returned home to his father’s farm, and then married his sweetheart Nellie. He never fully recovered from his injuries and ordeal, however. He and Nellie had a daughter and, sadly, while she was pregnant with their son, Edward grew weak and died.

He enlisted as a young man of nineteen in response to Abraham Lincoln’s call for volunteers and was paid $25 a month wages. Edward believed in the Union and ultimately gave his life for his country. During the time he was away from the family farm, he wrote letters to Nellie and his father that miraculously survived intact, although the writing is faded and the pages are like tissue paper. My aunt had the letters until she died, and they are now in the tender hands of my cousin. About twenty years ago, my aunt and mother painstakingly transcribed the letters which offer amazing first-hand insight into the life of a Yankee soldier. Here’s just one letter to give you an idea (the spelling and grammar mistakes are Edward’s – my aunt left them in to be accurate):

Dear Nellie,

There if the heading of this does not let you know where I be, I do not know what will. Your kind letter reached me today and as the regiment is under light marching orders, I must answer it today with a short letter. I expect we have got to see some more fighting in a few days. If we do, I do not know but I shall be one to fall. Oh, I am detached from the regiment in to a pionear confis which goes ahead of the troops to clear the way. It is rather a dangerous position to be in. There is no news only have got to give the rebs another summers chase. I will send you a bit of wood from a tree which the bullet hit before it went through Fred Cooleys head. He stood next man to me in the last fight and this time it may hit me. Excuse this short letter for I have no time for we are engaged in preparing for the march. Give my love to all and write soon. Direct your letters as you have done.

                       I remain your ever affectionate friend

                                                            Edward

In addition to the letters, one tintype photograph of Edward also survived these many years. Here is an image of it my mother had produced from the original tintype. She always thought my cousin resembled him ? Quite the mustache, don’t you agree?

One last interesting fact about my great-great-great grandfather’s time serving in the war. When he and the others of the Sixteenth Regiment were taken prison after losing in battle, they tore their regiment flag into small strips and concealed the strips in their clothing before being transported to Andersonville. Many died there ­ — more from the Sixteenth Regiment than any other regiment. When a member of the Sixteenth died, the strip they carried was given to another member of the Sixteenth Regiment for safekeeping. When all the prisoners were finally released, they were sent to Newberne where they finished out the war doing guard and provost duty. It was there that the remaining scattered survivors of the Sixteenth Regiment were at long last reunited.

In 1879, a space was set aside in the new Connecticut Sate Capitol Building in Hartford for the various flags of the Connecticut Regiments. The remaining strips of the Sixteenth’s flag were stitched together to form a shield. This shield was then sewn onto a banner of heavy white Cheney silk from the silk mills in nearby Manchester. An eagle was embroidered above the shield to replicate the original design of the flag. This banner remains on display in a place of honor to this day.

I think after writing this post, I no longer wonder why I have an interest in American history and write romances. My great-great-great-grandfather survived nothing less than hell on Earth to return to his sweetheart, who faithfully waited for him for years. That’s quite a story, yes?

If you haven’t already done so, check out my latest release:  Merry’s Christmas Cowboy, part of Petticoats & Pistols Christmas Stocking Sweethearts.

 Purchase Merry’s Christmas Cowboy

And don’t forget to drop by Petticoats & Pistols Readers group on Facebook for more exciting news and fun!

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The Miraculous Oxydonor

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How wonderful it would be to have a device that cured every disease!

That is exactly what the Oxydonoor, purported to do. Invented in the 1890s by Dr. Hercules Sanche, and released to the general public in 1896, the Oxydonor consisted of a nickel plated tube containing  a stick of carbon with wires leading from it to electrodes attached to a metal contact pad. The user of the device would put the tube in a bowl of water, attach the metal plate to a wrist or ankle, then lie in bed while the Oxydonor did its work. The colder the water, the more effective the treatment, according to Dr. Sanche.

How did the Oxydonor cure all diseases except for those that were terminal? By forcing oxygen through the skin into the body, of course. People of the era did not understand that oxygen could only enter the body through the lungs.

The device was said to stimulate nerves and increase blood flow as the oxygen levels in the body increased  which, in turn, cured diseases. Dr. Sanche  stated that his device was so effective that it would soon take the place of doctors.

Guess what? It didn’t work.

Guess what else? Dr. Sanche wasn’t really a doctor. He was a businessman who devised a field of medicine called diaduction. He believed that an undercurrent connected all natural organisms, and a disruption of that current created illness. Oxygen, he believed, could restore the disruption of the natural current, thus the Oxydonor. He moved frequently to stay one step ahead of the authorities as the complaints rolled in, but continued to market his device and to warn the general public against imitators.

In 1915 a fraud order was issued against him in New York, and he was sentenced to 18 months in jail. He avoided shutting down operations after that by moving to Montreal Canada, where he continued to market his device until the 1950s.

If you are interested in trying Dr. Sanche’s miracle device, you can pick one up on eBay. There are several listed there.

The Adventures of Laughter, the Tame Wolf, Plus an e-book Giveaway

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Howdy! Howdy!

Here’s hoping your holiday was bright and cheerful and that Santa brought you everything you wanted.

Well, I am currently at work on the story of First Rider and Liliann and am about (a little short) of 2/3’s done with the book.

However, in the meantime, I have two sales occurring, both books priced at $.99 cents.  The first one is SHE STEALS MY BREATH:  https://tinyurl.com/SHE-STEALS-MY-BREATH

The other book on sale is: PROUD WOLF’S WOMAN  https://tinyurl.com/ProudWolfsWoman
This book, Proud Wolf’s Woman, does not go on sale very often.  Also, because I’m an Indie and the book is on other platforms, it can’t be in Kindle Unlimited — and so this is a good sale, I think.
Here are their covers:  She Steals My Breath
And Proud Wolf’s Woman
I’d also like to say that my heart goes out to all those who have been adversely affected in California by the fires and also in North Carolina.
If you have been adversely affected by the fires or the hurricane, please leave me a message here on the blog and I will give you a free book of mine — of your choice.
Well, onward we go with the story of Laughter the Tame Wolf.  This story comes from the book WHY GONE THOSE TIMES, Blackfeet Tales by James Willard Schultz as told to him by Red Eagle, who was an old man then in February 1878.
When Red Eagle was a young man, his close friend was Nitaina, known as Lone Chief.  Well, one day, when they were out on the hunt they came upon a flooded lake.  Sometimes the ice from the mountains breaks loose in the early spring and floods the rivers and lakes.
The two of them saw a couple of wolves on an island who were pacing back and forth and the two men knew they had some pups nearby.  Determined to find the pups and kill them, the two waded out to the island only to see one, lone wolf pup scared and shaking who was still alive.  His brothers and sisters had not survived the flood.  And so Nitaina decided to take the pup and make a pet of it.  Red Eagle made no objections, and so the wolf pup came hom with them.
Before the pup was a year old he had come to love the man who had saved him and he would often put his paws on Nitaina’s shoulders and grin at him, thus his name, Laughter.  Laughter was afraid of the camp dogs and left them alone.  But one dog had the nerve to fight with Laughter and result was that the other dog lost the fight.  From then on the dogs left Laughter alone.
Laughter didn’t bark.  Nor did he howl in camp.  But, he would listen to the howling of the wolfs each night and often bothered Nataina to take him to his own kind.  But Nataina would tell him to lie down and pup would obey.
Well, unlike dogs, Laughter was a very good hunter and the first time he made a kill for meat, he was so excited he kept jumping up on Natiana and grinning.  Lone Chief one day joined a war party, but was denied going with the others because they knew the wolf would follow.  But, what none of the knew was that, unlike a dog who announces your position with barking — saying here we are, here we are, we’ve come to steal your horses — Laughter proved to be as excellent in the war trail as a trained warrior.  He didn’t howl.  Instead, he alerted the entire war party when danger was near.
Well, as was bound to happen, after they had gone on many adventures together, Laughter began to absent himself from time to time, each time staying away longer and longer until, at last, he came to the camp no more.  Natiaina and Red Eagle saw the wolf one last time when they were out hunting on the plains.  In the distance were two wolves watching Red Ealge and Natiaina.  As they neared the two wolves, one trotted down to meet them.  It was Laughter.  Oh, how wonderful was the reunion and Natiaina got back on his horse and ordered Laughter to follow.  But, Laughter would not follow.  They saw in the distance that Laughter was dancing around his wife, trying to get her to come with him with Natiaina, but his wife would not go.  At last, howling his misery, Laughter stayed with his wife.
Though he loved Natiaina, he loved his wife more.  Schultz ends the story, saying, “The call of kind to kind is stronger than any other love.”
I hope you have enjoyed the blog today.  Please come on in and leave a comment.  I’ll be giving away one of these e-books to some lucky blogger!