Personal Glimpses

Happy Accidents That Turned Out

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Just about everyone on the planet has heard of John Steinbeck, the author of Grapes of Wrath, East of Eden, and Of Mice and Men. He won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1962 which laid to rest any doubts about his abilities. He based his books on events and characters of the time and readers snapped up new works.

But did you know his dog Toby ate the manuscript Of Mice and Men? Toby destroyed the only copy Steinbeck had, all that work of finding the right words to fill the pages gone. If only Steinbeck had a computer and thumb drives back then!!

The dog got swatted with the flyswatter and Steinbeck started over. Back then, a writer had to type everything or write in longhand. I’m not sure, but I think he had a typewriter.

Some writers might’ve thrown in the towel but not him. After writing his agent in May 1936, to inform him of the setback, he started over in new surroundings and inspiration flowed. He finished the book and submitted it a mere three months later in August. He didn’t have a lot of faith that the book would amount to anything. He called it mediocre. However, the book released in Feb. 1937 and was a wild success.

After that, he wrote While Travels With Charley and it gave the ailing author one last bestseller. So everything worked out.

I can relate to this. True story. I was writing a contracted book, The Cowboy Who Came Calling, and had completed the first half. I came home from work to find my husband had deleted the book from my computer. He’d been getting rid of files that were no longer needed and happened to get my story.

A huge lump formed in the pit of my stomach. All that work vanished, every single word, and I was writing under deadline like Steinbeck.

To give you an idea of the total devastation, I’d been losing vision and my doctor warned he might not be able to stop it. So this story was about a woman losing her sight after getting kicked in the head by an animal and I had become the character. I put myself in Glory Day’s shoes and wrote what I was experiencing. It was taking a lot out of me emotionally to say the least.

But, you know, when I began writing the book again, inspiration grew by leaps and bounds. The story turned out far better than it was to start with. I don’t know what it is that kicks in but it’s just amazing. My editor loved the story and it went on to win the National Readers Choice Award.

Sidenote: My neurologist did save most of my vision. And from then on, I saved everything in multiple places and on various devices. I did forgive my husband. He didn’t do it maliciously and felt so badly. He really went all out in showing his remorse.

I’ve recently published my 50th book with my newest western called Creek so that was a good lesson learned. I never lost anything else.

Have you ever lost something, doesn’t have to be on the computer, that held value for you? I’m giving away two copies of Creek so leave a comment.

For more fun and information, check out our Petticoats &Pistols Reader Group on Face Book HERE.

To Tame a Wild Horse — New Novella — Plus Giveaway

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Howdy!  Welcome to another terrific Tuesday!  Hope y’all are doing well!

Have just released a new Young Adult, Novella #2 in the Untamed Frontier Series.  The title of the book is To Tame a Wild Horse.  It’s written under one of my pen names, Genny Cothern.

First let me tell you a little about the series and then the story of book #2.  The series is about two teenagers from completely different cultures, Good Eagle and Miss Starling.  When they first meet, he is eighteen and she is sixteen and they spark off of one another from the start.  But gradually, they become friends, though it’s a long, hard road.

 

Book #2 takes place about a year later and together they herd the horses for the Fort (where Starling’s uncle is the Factor), they hunt for the fort and they roam the prairies when they can.  They’ve become good friends.  And so, with this in mind, this is the back blurb for the book:

 

TO TAME A WILD HORSE

Montana, 1848

 

Can Friends Ever Fall In Love?

I have only been at Fort Lewis for a year, but my friendship with Good Eagle has blossomed and has brought me a kind of happiness like nothing I have ever known.  Daily I ride over the prairies and mountains with Good Eagle, and, I’ve now learned to herd horses, to hunt wild game and to aim at a target and bring it down.  But, when a grizzly threatens both Good Eagle and me, and, when Good Eagle commands me to hide from it while he faces the grizzly alone, I refuse.  Desert my best friend?  Never.

But, after we rescue some stolen horses, I begin to believe my friendship with Good Eagle might have been love from the very start.

This is not good.  Not only has Good Eagle given my Uncle Jed a promise to treat me like an almost-sister, we share nothing in common except our friendship.  Nothing.  And, when I slyly bring up the subject of love, Good Eagle reminds me of his vow to my uncle.

And yet, when we track and bring down the wild, black stallion we are seeking, Good Eagle gives me an unexpected gift.

Is falling in love really impossible, or are we merely too young to know our own hearts?

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0F89HQKVZ?tag=pettpist-20

This fictional story is inspired by the true adventures of Thomas Fox and Pitamakan, as written by James Willard Schultz from Thomas Fox’s handwritten legacy — and from Thomas relating the adventures of he and Pitamakan, while sitting around an evening’s cozy fire.

Pitamakan went on to become a great chief, but a quick search doesn’t pull up many results about him because Pitamakan means Running Eagle in Blackfeet and there was another Running Eagle, a girl warrior, and most accounts I’ve been able to find about Pitamakan are about the girl warrior, who, by the way had many adventures, as well, as told by her lifetime friend, Ap’ah, who was born on the same day as she.

 

Must admit I love telling these stories about friendship and honor, and about two people from completely opposing cultures who somehow manage to become friends.  And, I love learning about a history I had no knowledge of prior to doing this research.

Now, I’ll be giving away this new story to four (4) bloggers today.  So come on in and leave a comment.  And, May your week be filled with happiness and love!

 

 

Aussie Ways Versus American – Margaret Tanner

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I am Margaret Tanner, an award winning, bestselling, Australian author with nearly two hundred books published on Amazon. I now concentrate on writing sweet Western Historical Romance, although in the past I used to write Contemporary and Australian Historical Romance.

I like to think my stories will tug at your heartstrings and evoke strong emotions.

My heroes hide behind a rough exterior. They are tough men who are prepared to face danger and overwhelming odds for the women they love. My heroines are brave, resourceful women willing to endure hardship and danger in an untamed land, if it means they can win their heart’s desire.

I have had many jobs over the years including being an Army Reservist, an Army Major’s secretary and a Medical Audio typist. My most memorable job, for all the wrong reasons, was as a postal delivery person. Surprisingly, I am scared of dogs, and I have to say I was accosted many times by dogs who were/or were not, intent on doing me harm.

I sadly lost my husband at the end of Covid. I have three grown-up sons, and two lovely granddaughters.

Outside of my family and friends, writing is my passion.

FRONTIER LIFE – AMERICA AND AUSTRALIA

Life on the American and Australian frontiers have a strikingly similar history, so it was fairly easy for me to make the transition from writing Australian to American western historical stories.

For example, take the Australian Act of Selection.

America: The original Homestead Act was signed into law by President Abraham Lincoln on May 20th, 1862. It gave applicants freehold title to up to 160 acres of undeveloped federal land west of the Mississippi River. The law required only three steps from the applicant – filing an application, improving the land, then filing for a deed of title.

Anyone who had never taken up arms against the U.S. government, including freed slaves, could file a claim on the provisions that they were over the age of twenty-one and had lived on the land for five years.

The Homestead Act’s lenient terms proved to be ill-fated for many settlers. Claimants didn’t have to own farming implements or even to have had any farming experience. The allocated tracts of land may have been adequate in humid regions but were not large enough to support plains settlers where lack of water reduced yields.

Speculators often gained control of homestead land by hiring phony claimants or buying up abandoned farms.

Homesteaders could often build a log cabin in a matter of days, using only an axe and auger. No nails were required for the task.

The first step in construction was to build a stone or rock foundation, to keep the logs off the ground and prevent rot. Once the foundation was laid, settlers would cut down trees and square off the logs. These logs were then “notched” in the top and bottom of each end then stacked to form walls. The notched logs fitted snugly together at the corners of the cabin and held the walls in place. After the logs were stacked, gaps remained in the walls. Settlers had to jam sticks and wood chips into the gaps, then they filled in the remaining gaps with cement made from earth, sand, and water.

Fireplaces were built of stone and often had stick-and-mud chimneys.

Most cabins had dirt or gravel floors, which had to be raked daily to preserve their evenness.

Rustic log cabins in a fall setting located at Grayson State Park in Virginia.

Australia:  The 1860 Land Act allowed free selection of crown land.  This included land already occupied by the squatters, (wealthy landowners) who had managed to circumvent the law for years and keep land that they did not legally own.

The Act allowed selectors access to the squatters’ land, and they could purchase between 40 and 320 acres of crown land, but after that, the authorities left them to fend for themselves. Not an easy task against the wealthy, often ruthless squatters who were incensed at what they thought was theft of their land.

The Act of Selection was intended to encourage closer settlement, based on intensive agriculture. Selectors often came into conflict with squatters, who already occupied land and were prepared to fight to keep it.

The bitterness ran deep for many years, sometimes erupting into violence.

The first permanent homesteads on the Australian frontier were constructed using posts and split timber slabs. The posts were set into the ground, about three feet apart, according to the desired layout. Slabs of timber were then dropped into the slots. A sapling or similar, straight piece of timber ran across the top of the posts, which allowed them to be tied together so they could support the roof.

Sunset above Craigs Hut, built as the the set for Man from Snowy River movie in the Victorian Alps, Australia

Clay was often plugged in between the joins and splits of the cladding to stop droughts. The internal walls were sometimes plastered with clay and straw, lined with hessian/calico, whitewashed or simply left as split timber.

Roofs were pitched using saplings straight from the bush and often clad with bark. Early settlers learnt from the aborigines that large sheets of bark could be cut and peeled off a variety of trees and used as sheets to clad the roof.

* * * * * *

 

I’m so proud of my Gun For Hire book – Dustin.

Please visit the series page HERE.

 

 

My latest release was on the 2nd of April – Callum’s Bride.

CALLUM’S BRIDE

Blurb:

Sebastian thought he was irredeemable. Will Carly’s love set him free?

Bounty hunter Sebastian Callum is ambushed and seriously wounded by the McSweeney gang.

He finds his way to Carly’s house and she and her young son give him sanctuary. But danger is an ever-present threat. And why does the littler boy think Sebastian is Jesus?

While nursing him back to health, Carly gives Sebastian her heart, even though he thinks he is an unworthy recipient. Will he accept this special gift from her?

If so, how far will a woman from his past go to keep them apart?

Readers can contact me via my FB author group. I would love to see you there. Or private message me on FB.

To find out more about my books please check out my Amazon link.

GIVEAWAY

One reader who leaves a comment, will win a $5 Amazon Gift Card. Have you ever been inside a log cabin?
What do you think would be the biggest challenge of making a home on the frontier?

Choosing the Perfect Name for Your Horse

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I’ve owned horses most of my life, from the time I was a preteen until a few years ago (we won’t mention how many decades there are in between). The very first horse I called my own was a bay gelding named Mac. That was it. Just Mac. He wasn’t particularly beautiful, but he was gentle and well-behaved. By the time I turned fourteen, I was ready for a more advanced horse, and we acquired Torno – short for Tornado. Now, he was a beauty. A striking black, high-stepping Saddlebred who sailed over fences. In college, I switched from English riding to Western and Baldy was my horse of choice. She was pie-bald mare with an entirely white face and pale blue eyes.

In all three cases, my horse came with an established name, and it seemed to fit them and their characteristics. Not that I would have changed it. As a youngster, I once read in book that changing a horse’s name was bad luck, and I believed it. Over the years, my husband and I came to own many dozens of horses and mules—some of them with silly or just plain awful names. Still, I wouldn’t change them. Instead, I’d come up with a tolerable, if not cute, nickname. A few of the more memorable ones were a pony named Tinkle and an older white swayback called Dumpy. I couldn’t bring myself to call them by those terrible monikers, so I dubbed them Tinker Bell and Dimples. I figured the nicknames were close enough to not rain any bad luck down on us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was also tasked with the job of naming the many babies we had and any nameless horse or mule that came to us. One of my favorites was a baby mule that we had after several years of trying and much money invested. The moment I saw him at a few hours old, I pronounced him Dollar, which made perfect sense. Eighteen months later, his full sister Penny was born. I mean, seriously, what else could I call her? A dun mare we fostered produced a handsome male foal that looked just like her, so I called him Son of a Dun, Sonny for short.

Not all the names I picked were humorous, although I admit I often leaned that way. Neither were all the names clever and original. We had our share of classics like Lady and Fancy and Patches. I named my favorite horse of all time Tiger because he was born in the year of the tiger. What mattered most is that somehow the names all came to fit the horse or mule.

Oh, and this doesn’t take into account all the names of fictional horses and bulls and even dogs that I had to come up with for books. I once had a fierce bucking bull called Orange Crush and most recently a diminutive mule I gave the name of Short Stack.

Just for fun, tell me, what would you name this silly fellow? Who knows? I just might use him and your suggestion in a future book ?

And don’t forget to check out our P&P reader group on Facebook!

Petticoats & Pistols FB Readers Group

Where Do You Get Your Story Ideas?

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One of the questions authors are frequently asked is, “Where do you get your story ideas?” I tell people, from all around. I see something interesting, hear an anecdote, meet a colorful individual, or read about a real-life event in the news or online. “You just have to pay attention,” I’m fond of saying to them.

For example, I went to a journalism event last week and met the most interesting gentleman. About five years ago, he returned to the small town in Colorado where he was raised and purchased the local newspaper which was on the brink of bankruptcy. The first thing he did was to hire his daughter as his head and only reporter. Within six months, he proceeded to turn the newspaper around and get it operating in the black again. I was very impressed and quite entertained by his many charming small town newspaper tales, especially when he talked about the 67 letters he found in an old file and that were written by the original owner from the 1880s. What a treasure! Those are probably a book all by themselves.

Immediately, my writer’s brain started to spin. I told myself, “There’s a story in there somewhere.” Does anyone remember the movie We Bought a Zoo? I think it was a book first. Anyway, We Bought a Zoo is the story of a heartbroken widower and father who buys a small, down on its luck zoo. I loved it the movie, by the way, and began to picturing something similar  — like, I Bought a Newspaper. Of course, in my story, the hero would be young and hire his sister rather than his daughter as head reporter.

No, wait! Better yet, my heroine would buy the newspaper and hire her brother as the reporter. And, of course, she would have to be at odds with the hero. Maybe he’s a developer who has plans of buying the building that houses the newspaper and turning it into a manufacturing plant. Only that would make him a bad guy, and he has to be good, right? I know. He wants to turn it into a state-of-the-art Urgent Care facility to service the town which only has an outdated clinic.

But how to make that a western? I got it! His family is wealthy, having made their money in the cattle business. They have the biggest ranch in the area. And my heroine could dig up some dirt on his family when she finds these old letters in a storage box. The kind of dirt that could ruin them.

Except what if I want to make this into a historical western? That would add all kinds of conflict for my heroine. As a woman business owner back in the old days, especially a newspaper publisher, she’d have a hard time being accepted by both men and woman. Probably no one would want to talk to her, which would make investigating stories and getting witnesses to talk hard.

Hmm…this might be something I need to print out and put in my idea file, which, no joke, is at least an inch thick. Yeah, the story idea needs a little work and polishing, for sure, but it could make for a good book, I think. And I do have the business card of the gentleman I met should I have research questions.

If nothing else, I have a really good answer when people ask me where I get my story ideas.

Whispers of Fortune–writing a book–and a giveaway!

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I’m doing a lot of thinking about what in the world makes a person write a book.

It really is difficult to explain…even understand.

It’s such a common question “How do you do it?” And, it’s sub-question, “I want to do it.”

The thing is, I’m not sure why I write books, or how, it’s honestly a very strange way to behave. Just sittin’ by yourself makin’ stuff up.

Making up imaginary friends, then causing them trouble…in my case shooting at them, or tossing them over cliffs, or…well, you know. The sort of disasters that just so often never happen to real people. I mean, did Pa Ingalls ever have to shoot anyone? Or was he ever shot at? So even back then it didn’t happen that often.

But I love it. I feel like I’m a friendly person. I can sit and talk and enjoy myself. But for some reason, being by myself just suits me.

I do things like find out a sailor came up the coast of California…a Conquistador so probably not THAT nice of a guy…and he mapped it and wrote about it but he MISSED San Francisco Bay because it was foggy.

And it was over a hundred years before another person, of course, outside of the indigenous people who lived there, found San Francisco Bay…and that was a group who walked overland. I can read that and BAM book.

Mary Connealy

I once picked up a mastodon tooth,in a children’s museum exhibit so it was allowed, and BAM a book. A whole book came to me through that tooth. I suppose that means my brain works funny, so it’s more than just an inclination to sit by myself makin’ stuff up.

But it’s odd behavior and I always enjoyed writing but I never really knew that about myself, that I’d get whole ideas unfolding in my head inspired by strange things. I started writing when I was about 40…maybe 38-ish. My baby went to kindergarten. I just decided to try it and I loved it. It’s been a consuming activity ever since.

What about you? Do you have strange things that just inspire you? Draw you in? Someone said they loved kneading bread. I know people who are such talented embroiderers or some needlework thing. I used to love crocheting and I haven’t picked up a crochet hook in years. I’d kinda like to try it again, but my sitting around time is booked.

Tell me about your special gifts or loves or work that just suits you down to the ground.

Every commenter gets their name in a drawing for a signed copy of Whispers of Fortune.

In bookstores NOW. Whispers of Fortune made the Parables Bestseller List. I’m excited.

Whispers of Fortune

In a land of gold and grit, can two hearts uncover the true treasure?

In 1875 California, Brody MacKenzie arrives at the Two Harts Ranch on a mission to find his runaway brothers, worried they may have fallen into harm. Instead, he discovers them thriving at the ranch’s school and orphanage under the care of Ellie Hart, a woman with a heart as resilient as the land she calls home. His options limited, Brody reluctantly takes on the role of ranch doctor, and he forms an unexpected bond with Ellie, who’s kept a steady eye on Brody’s two rapscallion brothers. When the boys show him a mysterious journal that has been guiding their travels and may hold the key to a lost treasure, Brody and Ellie are captivated by the possibility of a thrilling adventure.

With winter approaching and his brothers threatening to bolt again, Brody and Ellie race against time to decipher cryptic clues and unearth the hidden fortune. But along the way, old adversaries resurface, threatening their newfound affection and the safety of those at the ranch.

 

 

What is That I Smell?

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Did you know that our sense of smell was the first thing to develop when humans appeared on earth? Our “smellers” are very old and very complex. It was not only vital to locating food but also finding a mate. Our nose can sense 1 trillion odors, both good and bad.

So when I’m writing stories, I need to implement the sense of smell far more than I do.

Fragrances and odors are closely entwined with memories. A sniff of Pond’s loose body powder for women instantly reminds me to my mom. And Old Spice always brings back times with my dad.

I remember so often coming home from school and Mom would have red beans cooking on the stove or she’d have a cake baking in the oven. If I smell those, it instantly sends me back to my childhood. Also, in my childhood, if a certain food gave off what to me was a bad smell, it wasn’t going in my mouth. I watch my great grandson who’s almost three. He always smells things before he puts them in his mouth. It think that’s very interesting. A dog often does the same thing.

Courtesy of Jade87 on Pixabay

My husband never wore any after shave much because he had asthma and smells would sure send on an attack. But I loved the natural smell of just the soap after he showered. Smells are so powerful.

We camped a lot and I still remember the smell of an open fire and my mom frying bacon or making coffee. There’s nothing like it.

Did you know our sense of smell is strongest in the evening? Smell is directly related to the sleep hormone. In man’s early days on earth, smell helped us not only find food but to discern danger. It came in mighty handy.

And then there’s the fragrance of rain in the air. The official word is petrichor. It’s the release of organic compounds in the soil into the air during and after a rain event. I don’t know about you, but that’s one of my favorite smells. I love to stand outside just smelling the fresh air. It refreshes my soul.

Smells are closely associated to romance. I once dated a guy for a short time that gave off a scent that I could not get past. He was clean and didn’t have body odor but I hated the scent of him. Later, I learned that he was not the person he presented to people and was thankful I dodged a bullet, thanks to my discerning nose!

Now it’s your turn. How has your sense of smell helped you in life? Do certain things spark memories? I can’t wait to hear your responses.

Also, don’t forget that Creek is available for preorder. It’ll be in ebook and paperback. The paperback should show up on Amazon in a few days.

This leads off the multi-author Gun For Hire series. I can’t wait for you all to see these fabulous covers that the Charlene Raddon made. Here’s a list of the authors: Margaret Tanner, Charlene Raddon, Heather Blanton, Carra Copelin, Jo-Ann Roberts, Caroline Clemmons, Tracy Garrett, Cheryl Pierson, and Winnie Griggs.

Here are the three of the series that are already up.

Next month, I’ll have some giveaways of Creek as well as an awesome book trailer.

Don’t forget about our Petticoats and Pistols Reader Group on Facebook! CLICK HERE

Wishing you all a blessed day and week.

Linda Broday 

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!

 

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.

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Welcome Guest Author Louise M. Gouge

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Thank you for inviting me back to Pistols and Petticoats. Seems like it was just yesterday when I visited to promote my first contemporary Love Inspired book, Safe Haven Ranch. Actually that was all the way back to last June, and I’m delighted to visit with you again. It’s always a treat to talk to you about our favorite genre: western romances. As I said last time, we love to cheer for our heroes and heroines as they work through adversities and earn their happily-ever-after. Today I want to talk about my brand new release, A Faithful Guardian, a sequel to Safe Haven Ranch.

Just a reminder: My first book in my New Mexico series was a novella, Yuletide Reunion (LIH 2010). Inspired by the little ranch where my late sister retired, I set my story beside the Rio Grande in New Mexico Territory and created the Mattson family of five brothers, each of whom deserved his own story. In the end, each brother found his happily-ever-after with the perfect heroine for his personality. I’m honored to say Finding Her Frontier Family and Finding Her Frontier Home were both finalists for the prestigious Selah Award. These stories were so much fun write, and I was sad to leave this family behind. With the Love Inspired Historical line coming to an end, I was doubly sad, because I love to write historicals. By the way, you can find my complete Booklist and more info about my writing at my website: https://louisemgougeauthor.blogspot.com/ 

Loving all my heroes in any of the genres in which I’ve written, I couldn’t forget about those Mattson brothers. So I began to write about their many descendants, each with a story worth telling! My editor at Love Inspired loved the idea, and now I’m excited to announce that I signed a three-book contract for more Mattson descendant stories. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

My newest release, A Faithful Guardian, is my first book to feature a dog. As a cat mama, I don’t really know that much about dogs, but I had plenty of help from friends who are experts and who kept me on the right track. Specifically, Lady, my border collie is supposed to herd cattle, but this little gal has a mind of her own. She’d much rather be with her brand new friend, Zoey, a fifteen-year-old girl with cerebral palsy who needs a canine companion. That doesn’t sit too well with the dog’s owner, who’s convinced Zoey’s mom, Lauren, stole Lady. Of course, conflict ensues as the hero and heroine wend their way toward their happily-ever-after. Here’s the back cover blurb:

An unexpected canine friendship could bring their families together. After her teen daughter, Zoey, bonds with a stray dog, the last thing Lauren Parker anticipates is the owner accusing her of stealing it. The prominent rancher and widowed father, Robert Mattson, doesn’t believe Lauren’s innocence, but even he can see the special understanding his dog, Lady, has for Zoey’s medical needs. When Robert’s twins become fast friends with Zoey, his prickly interactions with Lauren soon give way to something more. As Lady brings them all closer together, Robert can’t harden his heart any longer…but is he too late to win Lauren’s love?

I’m delighted to give away one print copy of A Faithful Guardian to a U. S. resident. Please leave a comment below and answer one of these questions: Do you prefer cats or dogs, and why? Do you have or know of a K-9 companion dog, and how do they help their human friend? Full sentences, please.

My personal photo of my sister’s adobe house that inspired my stories.

South Carolina author Louise M. Gouge writes contemporary and historical romance fiction, winning the prestigious IRCA in 2006 and placing as a finalist in 2011, 2015, 2016, and 2017. She was also a finalist in the American Christian Fiction Writers Carol Awards in 2005, 2007, and 2008, and placed in the Laurel Wreath contest in 2012. Most recently, she was a finalist in the 2023 Selah Awards and is a current finalist for the 2024 Selah Awards. A former college English and humanities professor, Louise is a member of the Christian PEN and has been copyediting for well-known authors for fifteen years. Married for fifty-four happy years to her beloved husband, David, Louise is now widowed and spends her days researching and writing her next novel.

Web site at https://louisemgougeauthor.blogspot.com/ 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LouiseMGougeAuthor

Follow me on BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/louise-m-gouge