Sarah Lamb

Little House on the Prairie Tidbits

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Many people are excited that Netflix will be filming a new Little House on the Prairie TV series. I’ll be curious to see it myself. While I’ve not seen the entirety of the original series, I do love the time period, so I think it will be interesting to watch! I need to finish the original series too! 

Thinking about her led me into today’s blog topic—Laura Ingalls Wilder, who wrote the Little House on the Prairie books with her daughter, Rose Wilder’s, encouragement and help. I think it’s safe to say that most of us have read those books.

How old were you when you first learned of them? I remember I was in third grade, and a girl on the bus had On the Banks of Plum Creek. She kept telling me I should read it. I really didn’t want to. I didn’t want to stop reading Nancy Drew! After she kept pestering me, I finally did read it… And…promptly asked the school librarian to start me off at book one. 

When I was eleven, my family and I went to Missouri to visit an uncle. We stopped along the way at Laura Ingalls Wilder’s home where she worked on those books. As a child, I didn’t appreciate it the way I would have now. All I can remember is the very little bit of the house they let us go through seemed so tiny! There was a shawl on a chair in a room with a single bed, and I thought to myself, how uncomfortable that would be to sit in and write! I guess, though, if that’s all one knew, they wouldn’t think twice about it? 

 

Those books, and I think the old TV and the new one, will remain in the hearts of readers and viewers for the rest of their lives. There’s something that just feels so good about being in a simpler time, around people who are kind to each other, problems that are solved, and family and friends there for you. A lot of us don’t get that now, and books are our only way to experience that. Maybe that’s why I love to write heartwarming stories myself. 

Now, let me get to some of those facts about Laura and her books that I discovered. I think they are pretty interesting. You might or might not already know them! 

 

  • Laura’s first book, Pioneer Girl was a memoir geared toward adults and was rejected by publishers. It was vastly different from the stories we all know and loved, and it was her daughter, Rose, who helped edit the books and make them more enjoyable for children. 
  • In 2014, Pioneer Girl finally was published.
  • There have been over 73 million copies of the Little House books sold, in over 100 countries, and they’ve been translated into 27 languages! 
  • As an adult, Laura was 4 feet and 11 inches. And that was not considered short for a woman back then! Currently, the average height for a woman is 5 feet and 4 inches.
  • Since the books were first published in the 1930s, they have remained continuously in print. 
  • There was another illustrator Helen Sewell, who came before Garth Williams, the illustrator of the books we are all familiar with. 
  • Though there are still living descendants of Laura, there are no direct descendants. Her daughter Rose only bore one child, who died as an infant. Laura’s sisters also didn’t have children. Her brother never made it past infancy. 

 

Aren’t those some interesting facts? It amazes me just how many languages this series is in.

Did you read the Little House books? Did you have a favorite character or book? The Long Winter was my favorite of all the books.  

If you answer one of those questions below, you can be entered to win an ebook copy of A Journey for Leah. 

 

Falsely accused of being a loose woman, she has nowhere else to go. His heart belongs to another, and he has no desire to become entangled.

A victim of misplaced affections, Leah Dearing dreams of starting over in Oregon where she can own land and put her past behind her. But as a single woman, she is refused a place in the wagon train, no matter that she’s more than capable of doing all she needs. Desperate to build a new life for herself, she is willing to do anything—including a marriage in name only.

Stanley Keith has no intention of heading out West with a bride until he overhears Leah’s plight. He knows the way will be difficult and many don’t make it. To top it off, he’s got a woman waiting for him when he gets there. Yet, something about her determination sparks in him, and before he’s realized it he offers to let her join him on his journey in exchange for her cooking and companionship.

However, the trail is long and dangerous, and the challenges they face might be more than either realized. Especially when one of them starts to fall in love…and the reminder of another waiting for them at the end of the trail becomes impossible to ignore.

 

Horses of the West and a Giveaway!

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Aren’t horses beautiful, majestic creatures? Horses and the West go hand in hand. Sure, there were horses all over North America, and in other countries too, but when most people think of “the West” they picture a cowboy on his trusty steed, Stetson on his head, coiled rope nearby, and perhaps a herd of cattle he’s watching over to driving back to his ranch. 

While the cowboy played an important role out West, in my opinion, the horse was maybe even more important! Someone who stole a horse was subject to a harsh public punishment such as a public whipping, jail time, or branding. That is, if they weren’t taken care of by vigilante justice. 

Horses were incredibly important on the frontier, as they were used for everything from transportation to work. They really were the essential workers of the day. With their great strength, horses were used in mills, pulled plows, wagons, and hauled freight, and can you imagine a cowboy trying to drive cattle without a horse? And…all those stagecoach robberies…it’s a lot easier to catch someone on foot with the loot if they didn’t have a horse! 

In fact, from 1850, to 1890, the number of horses grew from 4,336,719 to 15,266,244! They were as crucial to the West becoming settled as were the people who traveled there to call those wide lands home. 

 

Three of the most popular horse breeds in the West during the 1800s were the American Quarter horse, Morgans, and Mustangs. Each served a slightly different need, but all of them were important. 

The American Quarter horse was the most versatile for a western man’s needs. They were generally calm, muscular, and could pull wagons, work the cattle, and were fast horses. They were also a common horse, so easy to obtain. 

Morgans were used in gold mines, and also pulled stagecoaches and buggies. They were the favorite horses of the Pony Express riders because they were strong, fast, easily trained, and had good endurance. 

A Mustang was strong and sturdy. Mustangs were also feral, and hard to catch, with a temperament that was difficult. In the early 1900s, over two million Mustangs roamed the United States. They were almost wiped out, but with government regulation managed to survive.  

When my boys started doing horse lessons a few years ago, I had no idea that each lesson (which I sit in on) would start with an oral lesson. Over the last two years, we’ve learned about horse breeds and personalities, how much water they drink and what happens if they don’t have it, how long their intestines are, how much they eat, how many pounds of manure each day, and so much more. Because of this interest, I’ve worked horses in here and there in my books. I even wrote one about a wrangler, who was someone who worked with horses. 

In this book, Rose is as spirited as any unbroke filly, with no desire to settle down. And Levi, the wrangler, might be only one who understands. 

 

 

You can learn more by going here: 

https://www.amazon.com/Romancing-Wrangler-Second-Chance-Groom-ebook/dp/B0CFWJB2W4?tag=pettpist-20

But today, one of you will win your own copy. For your chance to win either an ebook or an audiobook code of Romancing the Wrangler, I’d just like to know: Have you ever ridden a horse? 

1800s Sleighs: Pungs, Jumpers, and Cutters

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Join me on a sleigh ride? We can glide over the ice and snow, perhaps our horse has a harness with bells jingling softly, and maybe we’ll sing a song, while staying warm under our wool blanket, with a hot brick at our feet. 

Doesn’t that sound lovely? As a cold natured person, I love something warm at my feet. In the winter, I usually have two hot water bottles. And yes…I will shoo away anyone who tries to take them. We all have our own, I can’t help it if my oldest and husband keep losing theirs! And I have two! 

I thought it would be fun to share about a few different types of sleighs. While we might think a sleigh is a sleigh, to someone in the 1800s, there was quite a difference. Sort of like the difference between a car and a truck, I suppose! 

First up, the box pung. Nope, not a typo. A pung, was a type of sleigh. Common in New England, it was boxy, simple, and though it wasn’t as stylish as what we think of the typical sleigh, it was sturdy and good for hauling people or cargo. I imagine that would have been useful in the winter, for someone who needed to get supplies from the store. 

Next, we have a jumper. A small sleigh, it was a very light and meant more for one or two people, and short little trips. It was a recreational vehicle, so if we were going with a car analogy, perhaps the small little sports car! Since it was so light, it was easier for the horses to pull, meaning it might make for good racing. 

Another type, and this is the type most of us think about when we are thinking of sleighs, is the cutter. These were the stylish sleighs, the ones that were painted prettily, with a bit more decoration. They were also curvier on the runners and meant to not only function well, but look good doing it! 

I had fun learning more about these while I wrote A Sleigh Ride for Charlotte. The sleigh in this story isn’t used every day. It’s actually been sitting, neglected since the death of Charlotte’s father, about a decade before. 

 

I want to share an excerpt with you. To set the page, Charlotte, a capable, clever, hardworking young woman, is excited to be offered a position at the new doctor’s office. The upcoming winter festival is on her mind, and her heart is hoping the man she’s had a crush on since childhood will invite her for a sleigh ride. As fate would have it…

“I’m not who she wants. It’s him, not me,” he suddenly burst out, pacing. All of his hurt, all of his insecurities and fears and upset rushed out of him. Now that the flood had started, he couldn’t hold it back.

       “I’m not rich, I’m not handsome. I have nothing to offer. A doctor with his first practice—a new one at that—in a small town is not wealthy. Why, half of my patients don’t pay me in coin, but in service or food. I couldn’t give her all she deserves.”

         “What does she deserve?” Charlotte’s mother asked, placing her hands in her lap, while her eyes never left his.

         “She deserves someone who loves her. Who can give her what she desires. Who can care for her and protect her and…and I am none of those things.”

      He gestured wildly, hoping his hands would convey his desperation. “The only way that I can protect her is by staying away.”

         Justin lowered his head and whispered, “If I don’t, he will hurt you both.”

 

You can learn more about the book here, and find it on ebook, paperback, and narrated by my talented narrator right here. 

 

Before I leave, I have a question for you. What would be a song you’d want to sing in a sleigh? Jingle Bells would be quite the classic, wouldn’t it? 

The Mail…Wait! Mustn’t Go Through?

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Today, I’m here sharing a few facts about mail delivery! My stepdad was a mail carrier until we retired. I remember he used to talk a lot about the post office. I always found it interesting. 

Back in the 1800s, sending a letter was vastly different from today. Not only do we have the luxury of instant email and text messages, if we want to, we can send something in the mail and have it get from one side of the country to the other, in only a few days. 

Back then, the mail delivery system was far slower. Originally it was delivered on foot, by a rider on a horse, or by stagecoach. You’ll be familiar with the name of the Pony Express as one way mail was delivered. However, what you might not know is that the Pony Express only delivered mail from 1860 to 1861.

 

Envelope sent through the Pony Express from postalmuseum.si.edu

What’s another interesting fact? 

When it comes to prices, I think we all wince each time postal rates go up. Just like now, a postage rate was determined by distance and weight. However, there was something different in the early days of mail delivery, than there is now. When a letter arrived, the recipient of the letter would pay the postage. That’s right! It cost the sender nothing at all to write a letter and mail it until 1855.

With a high volume of people unable to pay for the letters that had been sent to them, prepayment of the letters, via stamps, became the method we were familiar with. 

Years ago, I read the story of a woman who could still remember her mother getting a letter from back east, a thick one, but they didn’t have the money to pay for it. So, it got left behind and they always wondered what it said. I can’t imagine how heartbreaking that would be for someone to get a letter but not have a way to claim it. 

Of course, for the post office, it wasn’t sustainable for them. They had to pay for the delivery of those items, and more often than not, they’d followed through on their end, only to have all those expenses when the letter wasn’t claimed. 

 

1890s post office usps.com

 

The last fact is when the mail delivery service was started, and for a while after, there were not many post office buildings. Places such as general stores would serve as mail locations, but not every town had a place where mail was delivered, and there was no delivery to those in rural areas like there is now. Simply put, if you wanted to see if you had mail, snow, sun, or rain, you had to walk to the post office. They wouldn’t bring it to you. 

 

Fortunately, for my fictional little town in Deepwater, Missouri, they not only have a post office, but a postmaster who is kind and caring, and is going to help Alyssa learn that she’s far more than she believes herself to be, even with her secret, and that rejection from someone doesn’t mean she has no value. 

 

Here’s the blurb!

 

“Yer too small on the top. I want a bigger woman.”

Alyssa Moore never expected that to be the reason her prospective groom turned her away after one look. Now, with almost no money and no family to turn to for help, she’s stuck waiting in a small town until the mail-order bride agency that sent her finds another match. She’s embarrassed to seek help because that isn’t her only mortifying situation, but it’s all she can do.

When an upset woman finds him to ask for help posting a letter, Peter West is more than curious about her. As he learns more, he wonders…what would happen if her letter didn’t post? At least for a few days. Would she consider staying there, with someone like him? He knows it’s pointless. A beautiful woman like that wouldn’t want a man like him.

As Alyssa becomes desperate and Peter tries to summon his courage, they’ll each discover there’s far more to a person than meets the eye—and that friendship and love can blossom in the most unexpected of ways.

 

If you’d like to read Alyssa’s Desperate Plan, you can find it on Amazon in ebook, Kindle Unlimited, paperback and large print by clicking right here. 

I’ve shared some tidbits about the post office with you. Now, I’m curious…when you get your mail (which you didn’t have to pay to get!), do you sort it right away or set it aside for later?

Dime Novels: Creating the Romance Novels of Today?

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Image from Library of Congress

Have you ever heard of a dime novel? We have them to thank for paperback fiction today! By the mid 1800s, there likely wasn’t anyone who hadn’t read—or owned quite a few—dime novels. Spanning across what we now call genres, these stories had something for any reader: Sports, mystery, romance, adventures…and they were also portable, paperback, and not so large and heavy they couldn’t be put into a pocket. 

The books were bound with cheap paper, only about 100 pages, and had (usually) a colorful cover to entice a reader to choose it. 

Do you know who the largest collector of these books is? It’s the Library of Congress! They have over 40,000, including some very special ones, like this Louisa May Alcott one, one of only two copies known to exist! 

Unlike today, where there’s no stigma when it comes to reading fiction, back then there was. The reader of these books, especially for those who were middle class or middle aged, didn’t typically admit that they read these books. Dime novels were meant to be entertainment, and not considered to have any literary value in them. 

The romance titles often featured a working class woman finding romance with a wealthy man, two individuals fighting against all odds to make a relationship work, and a happily ever after. Sounds like what we are still writing and reading nowadays, when it comes to romance, doesn’t it? 

Of course, there were other beloved books as well, and in Alyssa’s Desperate Plan, reading actually plays a pretty important role in the story because one of the characters has a secret, when it comes to reading. Dime novels weren’t the only stigma when it came to enjoying a book. I don’t want to spoil anything for you, but I would love to share the first chapter! 

 

Chapter 1

 

Deepwater, Missouri 1870s

 

“Yer too small on the top. I want a bigger woman.”

         Alyssa Moore felt her jaw drop. She blinked a few times trying to collect herself, then frowned. Had she misheard? Surely, she had.

She’d traveled for nearly a week to get to the town of Deepwater after accepting a match from the mail-order bride agency. They had a success rate of ninety-four percent, she’d been assured. A match and true love was promised to her just around the corner, with one Mr. Gerald Weatherbee.

         Truthfully, she didn’t care about the true love part, she just wanted security and stability. Which was apparently being yanked out from under her feet.

         “What…did you say?” Alyssa’s voice was hushed. She wasn’t sure if she was shocked or angry or both.

         “Yer…” the man waved his hands around, mimicking a crude shape of a woman’s curves, “too small. I like my women big, like me.”

         “And what am I to do, then?” Alyssa asked. Humiliation burned through her. “We signed a contract.”

         “Ain’t signed a marriage certificate,” the man chuckled. “I’m within my right to reject you.” He checked his pocketwatch and shook his head. “I’ve got another girl coming. Good luck.” He snorted then. “You need it, as itty bitty as you are. Maybe you can find a husband who doesn’t have good eyesight.”

         “Why, I never!” Alyssa gasped as the man hefted his bulk from the chair and left the room, a rather rank smell coming from him.

         Perhaps she should be grateful. After all, marrying a pig farmer wasn’t exactly what she wanted for herself, but choices were slim, the agency apologized. Had she not been so desperate, she’d have waited longer for someone better.

         Now what was she to do? She wasn’t married, had no money beyond a few dollars the agency had given her, and was stuck in this small town.

         Alyssa closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them, straightened her shoulders, and snatched up her carpetbag. “I’ll just contact the agency,” she said, sounding more positive than she felt. “They’ll set things right. Maybe this time, I’ll find someone better. Who knows, this might turn out to be a fortunate situation.”

         The idea filled her with fortitude, and she strode out of the small shed that served as the stage station, and headed to the town beyond.

       Then she stopped.

       Who could help her get a message to the mail-order bride agency? How did they send letters in this town?

         Biting her lip, she looked around. Thankfully, though the area was filled with tall pines and oaks, there was enough of a clearing where the town was so everything was out in the open. Deepwater wasn’t large. She could likely find where to go.

Alyssa studied the area. Nearby appeared to be a café. A general store was close to it, as was a dressmaker and a shoemaker. There were other small buildings and she wasn’t sure what they were, but they had signs out and large shop windows.

         Taking a deep breath, Alyssa slowly walked down the street. She was so busy looking into each of the windows, hoping to spot a post office inside, she bumped into someone.

         “Oh! I’m sorry,” Alyssa said.

         “Not a problem,” a man replied.

        He started to walk away when Alyssa called to him. “I need to send a letter. Do you know where I can do that?”

       “Sure, we’ve got a post office,” the man said, and pointed to a row of buildings.

       Alyssa bit her lip. “I…I’m sorry. Which one?”

       “The one with the blue door,” the man said.

       Nodding, Alyssa said, “Thank you,” and continued. When she reached the building, there was a paper on the door. She squinted at it, then tried the handle. The door was locked. Frowning, she looked around.

       “He’ll be back soon, love,” a woman called as she headed to the café. “Peter usually takes his lunch about now.” She pointed to the sign. “He’ll be back in about a half hour.”

       “Thank you,” Alyssa said. She sighed in frustration. “Fine. I guess a half hour won’t make much difference.”

       At the other end of the street, she could see a small patch of trees, and what appeared to be a stream. It looked like a nice place to rest. It was certainly better than hovering outside of the post office and drawing attention to herself. She was feeling self-conscious after being rejected.

       As Alyssa walked toward the stream, in the distance she saw the man who’d just insulted her and put her into this unexpected position.

      Anger bubbled up, fueling her steps with a speed she was surprised she could do in her long skirts. The stream drew closer in her anxiousness to hide, and she wondered if the water would be cool enough to calm her heated face, and clean enough to drink.

      She was so focused on the water, Alyssa didn’t notice anything else but the large, flat rock where she set her bag down. She knelt, leaning toward the water, and dipped her fingertips into the stream. It was just as she’d hoped. Cool and clear. It would likely taste that way too. She moved closer and was about to reach her cupped hands into the water when there was a shout, and she felt herself grabbed from behind.

      Alyssa screamed, twisted away, and pitched forward. Just before she fell into the water, a pair of arms wrapped around her middle and pulled her back, dragging her onto the bank.

      “Let me go!” she shrieked as she tried to regain her footing. “What are you doing?”

       Alyssa struggled and then broke away as the arms loosened, and the bewildered expression of a man stared at her. He blinked and his mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out.

       It was all too much. First, she’d been rejected. Now, some crazy man was trying to throw her into the stream! What was with this town? The sooner she got out of here the better. Alyssa’s face grew hot with anger, and she crossed her arms over her chest. Her too small chest, evidently, and scowled.

      “Well? I’m waiting for an answer,” she snapped. “Why were you trying to push me into the stream? Is everyone in this town going to be horrible to me?” 

 

If you’d like to keep reading, and find out what happens to Alyssa, who the man gaping at her is, and just how important reading is to this story, you can find it by clicking right here on this underlined sentence, to head to Amazon. 

 

And since we are talking about books, what’s one you are reading right now? 

 

Things Aren’t Always What They Seem…and a giveaway! 

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I’m not sure where you live, but chances are good you’ve heard about the northern lights. I’m also guessing that you remember several weeks when pictures were posted ALL over the internet, from places that never thought they’d see those lights.

In my attempt to capture those lights, something unexpected happened and really changed my perspective on how I want to see things from here on out. 

It had been a week. One of THOSE kinds of weeks. A glance at the calendar was showing the next would likely be the same, filled with places that had to be gone to, phone calls that had to be made to places like the insurance company, playing phone tag with doctors, and I just wasn’t getting anything done that I needed to. It was all survival. 

Chances are you’ve had days like that and can fully understand the stress and overwhelm, and the simple fact that none of that mattered. Things HAD to be done. There was no other choice. 

Although I was exhausted, while in bed I remembered a few more things I needed to urgently do the next morning and went to check they were on my phone. Well, my finger slipped, and Facebook opened. And I started seeing pictures. Amazing pictures. Right where I lived. The northern lights! 

Curious, I raced down the stairs, threw open the front door and saw nothing. So, I went to the back door. The sky was pink. I gaped for a second, raced back into the house, up the stairs, got my teen out of bed, woke up my husband (who later admitted he was so tired he thought he just saw a sunset. At midnight.) but let the youngest sleep. 

Once we stepped outside and I showed them, I thought, my phone! Let me get a photo! So, I raced back upstairs (I was getting my late night exercise, phew!) and as I got back outside, my husband and teen went back to bed. I aimed my camera here and there, and eagerly looked at the images. Nothing. It wasn’t picking up anything! Just black sky that was blurry. And now, the bright pinks had faded dramatically. 

But that wasn’t right! I’d taken photos, so what had gone wrong? What I saw wasn’t showing up. Why? I fumbled around and changed a setting on my phone. Still nothing. Beyond disappointed, I walked back to the house, snapped one last photo, but didn’t even look at it. What was the point? The others sure hadn’t worked. 

Back in bed, I was feeling upset and frustrated. How come everyone else was seeing these amazing things? And getting incredible pictures, and I wasn’t?

I scrolled through those four photos, intending to delete them, when I saw it. The last one I’d taken. It showed the colors. In a place where it had been dark. 

So, I dashed down the stairs, rushed out the back door, camera in hand. I stood and snapped photo after photo of the night sky, looking like it usually did. All dark, and starry. Then, I looked at my photo roll. 

Colors. Pinks, and greens. Things that hadn’t appeared to my eyes. 

All of that beauty was right there. It had been right there the whole time, just I hadn’t seen it. It wasn’t that I didn’t notice it. But that I couldn’t see it because I didn’t have the right lens. 

How many times do we look and someone and think how amazing they are? So beautiful, so perfectly put together? But are they looking at themselves through that same lens, I wonder. I don’t think they are. We are always critical of ourselves. 

Those are the characters I like to write about. The ones who are special, just don’t know it yet. Just like each and every one of us is…even if we don’t always see it.

Today, I’d love to give away to one reader a copy of a book, just where that exact thing happens. 

In Romancing the Wrangler, Rose is sure she’s ugly. She’s let her mother’s criticisms make her feel like she has no good qualities. She feels like she isn’t good enough, and that her parents don’t love her. That’s the lens she sees things through. Levi’s feeling something similar, and doesn’t understand why his family is forcing him to do what they want.

I’m not going to spoil anything for you, but it really struck me how the fact that such beauty in the sky could be seen, but only through a different lens, made me wonder what else I’ve been missing out on, and how many times my frustrations and difficulties have made me miss out on something beautiful. 

Rose and Levi experience that too. 

I hope that as July starts out for you, it’s filled with beauty and joy, even if it’s simply in something small that you do for yourself. You are 100% worth it to have that. You might not see your own beauty, but I’m sure others do. 

I’ll announce my winner this evening, so please watch so I can get your contact info! To enter for a chance at an ebook of Romancing the Wrangler, I’d just love to know: What’s something you find beauty in? 

Sheriffs of the West: A Shocking Surprise

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It stunned me recently when I learned that in the Old West, the men who were tasked to keep the peace, protect the citizens, and bring order to lawlessness were not on a set salary and often had to take on extra work to survive. 

 

While generally these men were elected to the position, and some didn’t have any experience in keeping the law, the sheriff was an important person in the town. So, you’d think that not only he’d get a little respect, but also be paid decently in order to provide incentive to keep the town safe, right? After all, Thomas Jefferson called the office of sheriff “The most important of all the executive offices.”

 

1875 Sheriff’s Office in NE

 

The town sheriff had a heap of duties. It included collecting taxes, watching over inmates at the jail and managing the building, investigating crimes, transporting prisoners, arresting lawbreakers, and of course keeping the town safe. That might include breaking up fights, going after Wanted men, stopping a thief, making sure nothing was getting out of hand in the saloon, or a host of other things. I’m imagining there was some paperwork involved somewhere too. It sounds like a full time job, right? Maybe a little quiet time here and there, but generally something was always going on.  

 

Sheriff Langford and family 1888 Florida

 

In return for fulfilling their list of duties, many of these lawmen had their pay come only from a percentage of the fees they collected, like taxes or fines from someone they arrested. In order to supplement, they’d take on extra jobs. One number I read said only 8% of the taxes collected went to the sheriff. While it sounds like a good bit, if a sheriff was in a town where there were primarily homesteaders, I sure can’t see them making much! No wonder the bounty on a Wanted criminal was so tempting! It was a hard job, but I think Jefferson was right. They were the most important of all! 

 

Past Hamilton County, TN Sheriffs

 

Luckily for my sheriff, Asher Steele, he doesn’t have to worry about taking on a second job. His biggest worry is not letting himself fall in love. Asher thinks he comes from bad blood and he’s scared to pass it along. 

 

 

If you are interested in reading a little more, here’s the blurb:

 

The plan? Pretend he’s her betrothed and try not to fall in love.

Sheriff Asher Steele doesn’t plan to settle down. Not ever. In fact, he avoids the ladies all together. And he doesn’t plan to explain why that is. No one’s been able to break through the walls of his emotions and that’s just the way he likes it.

But when Isabelle Bowman comes to town with a secret of her own, and a heap of trouble following her, he might be the only one who can help her. What he’s not counting on is falling in love along the way and considering opening the walls of his heart to protect her.

Running from her half-brother, who desires nothing more than to kill Isabelle Bowman and take her inheritance, she’s desperate for a place to hide. Uninterested in marriage, she thinks the sheriff’s idea is preposterous. But she’s left with no option. With no funds, a sheriff who thinks she’s a troublemaker or a liar, and his plan that will never work, she’s sure things are not going to end well.

But could they both be wrong about what the future holds?

 

And you can click right here to learn more. Asher’s Secret is available in ebook, paperback, human narrated audiobook, and large print.  

 

Now, I have a question for you! Do you have a favorite type of Old West lawman?

All About Irises

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

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

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

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

 

 

 

Photos from BookBrush

 

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

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

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

 

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

Here’s the blurb:

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

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

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

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

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

 

You can click here to find it on Amazon.

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

Prairie Fires: Needed but Deadly

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Hey everyone! I’m so excited to be doing my first blog post here and to be joining these other amazing fillies and sharing more about the West, myself, and my books. I’m giving away an ebook today, too. 

Let’s jump into it! Recently, I needed to do a little research on something. I wanted to make sure that I was writing a scene authentically, as I’d never experienced it firsthand before. What I found was more shocking than I’d imagined.

“Faster than a horse could run,” a historic witness said, “like a devouring army” another warned. As you guessed from the blog title, they were talking about a prairie fire. These fires weren’t like anything those from the East had ever seen before. They spread quickly and could burn a length of 600 feet in a minute and burn as hot as 700 degrees Fahrenheit! Is it any wonder why a fire was one of the most feared natural and manmade disasters? 

 

PHOTOGRAPH BY KYLE MODERHAK, MYSHOT

 

But as I was researching these fires for a book, I learned some fascinating things. Even though they were deadly, fires played an important role on the prairie. Started on accident by a cookfire or lighting, or on purpose by Native Americans to make a pasture or drive wildlife, wildfires kept the prairie land as it was—a prairie. 

A prairie fire is an important thing needed in the renewal of a prairie. I had no idea until I started to research that. Without it, the wide open spaces would become a forest or filled with brush. Interestingly, the fire does not destroy prairie grasses. That’s why they grow back so quickly. As the fast moving fires went across, the base survived. Where the grasses grow actually lives underground, and the root systems can sometimes be fifteen feet deep, which means they survive these devastating fires.

 

Photo from Urbana Park District

While those new to the prairies might not have known how important the fire was for the prairie’s existence, they knew, without a doubt, how dangerous it was. In A Journey for Leah, Leah has joined a wagon train and experiences one of these fires first hand. 

While today, prairie fires that are started, either accidentally or on purpose are usually able to be controlled, back in the 1800s, it really was a matter of life or death. It would be impossible to outrun a fire and it’s terrible to think about. 

Here’s a small excerpt from that scene in A Journey for Leah: 

 

        All around them, men and women were rushing to the wagons and pulling out tools. Children were rushing to the stream, the older ones holding the small ones in the water, while those large enough to help were grabbing buckets to fill with water.

         “I don’t understand,” Leah said, as Stanley pulled out a shovel and some sacks. “What’s happening?”

         He pointed to the distance, where a near endless line of smoke filled the air. “Fire. We won’t outrun it. When a prairie fire starts, it spreads fast. All we can do is try to prevent it from getting any closer.” He pointed to a few dozen feet away, where men were starting to dig a trench. “We need to make a barrier, one deep enough and wide enough the fire can’t cross.”

         Leah felt cold then. That’s why the youngest children were in the water. It was to save their lives. 

 

Creating a firebreak was the only thing that could be done back then. It made watchful eyes, care with fire, and tools such as a plow an absolute necessity. It was much harder back then to create a firebreak. They didn’t have machines like we do, to do the job quickly. That’s one of the things I admire so much about the men and women who came before us, they made good use of what they had and, to be completely honest, built things that would last and were of better quality than we have!

While fire doesn’t appear too often in my books, I know it was a real concern, and I’m grateful for the chance this gave me to do a little research. 

A Journey for Leah is available in ebook, paperback, large print, and human narrated audiobook, if you’d like to keep reading. 

 

 

Since it’s my very first time blogging here, and I’m likely a new to you author, I’d love to give away an ebook of A Journey for Leah to one reader. You can enter just by leaving a comment telling me something you enjoy about historical romance books, and a random winner via number generator will be chosen.