FOOD CHEATS AND THE 1800S: Be very afraid! by Marisa Masterson

https://www.docsteach.org/activities/printactivity/progressive-era-food-regulation

Lately, food dyes and chemicals in food are often in the news. I even heard someone talk about returning to the purity of the foods from bygone eras. Well, some of what folks ate was not all that pure! 

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/389842911467779358/

  Take milk, for instance. Healthy milk. In the 1800s, sellers played an awful trick on consumers. Many watered down the milk. They added chalk to restore the white appearance. Formaldehyde, what was used in embalming, went into it to prevent spoiling. Fresh did not describe what they presented to the public. Sadly, this led to infant deaths. One more reason infant mortality was so high at that time. 

https://beavertrust.org/beaver-basics/beaver-history/

  How about sweet vanilla? What could be done to vanilla, right? Well, in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, a handy cheat was used to replace this. Castoreum, which tastes similar to the flavoring, was highly sought after. Its source? The anal secretions of a beaver! People knew where it came from and wanted it anyhow because of the cheaper cost compared to vanilla. 

https://www.britannica.com/topic/Pure-Food-and-Drug-Act

  Did the flour go sour? Add ammonium carbonate so the buyer believes it is freshly milled. 

Speaking of flour, white flour was more costly than the brown multi-grain variety. To make white bread, some bakers added chalk. To increase the weight of a loaf, they added pipe clay. 

  So, if those foods could be tainted, how about simply eating candy? No, that was a risk. Lead was used to color it. If the candy was green, it probably contained arsenic. 

  Little wonder the federal government finally stepped in to create the Pure Food and Drug Act of 1906. Before that, states were supposed to supervise what was consumed.

  

Wow! I am beginning to see how blessed my poor but healthy ancestors were to live on a farm and raise their own milk, meat, and vegetables. Perhaps we have slipped backward with our junk foods and fast food today.

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Will love force Ike to leave paradise?

Meet Ike Walton, the elusive banker's stepson who disappears into the mountains without a trace. No one in town knows why he left his stepfather's business. One woman will find an answer.

Ike has no intention of revealing his secret. He hides away in the mountains rather than face his only parent’s schemes. Only, Emmaline will force his return to the town where his parent controls too much and too many people.

Emmaline Bradley stares at the mountain every day, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ike returning. He broke her heart when he disappeared the day before their wedding. She is determined to find him and demand an explanation. Gathering her resolve and abducting a preacher, she sets off to where she believes he is hiding.

Arriving at Ike's mountain hideaway, she finds a conflicted man. Will their reunion reignite their plans for a life together, or will it finally give them closure and allow them to move on?

For fans of rugged mountain men and clean romances, this book will keep you hooked until the very end.

• Ø  Spunky heroine.
• Ø  Western adventure and wholesome romance.
• Ø  Guaranteed happy ending.
• Ø  Faith-filled fiction with the theme of redemption.

Get it today! 

The Underground Railroad Quilt Code

Americans hold a fascination with the Underground Railroad. A few years ago, a TV series titled Underground ran for a couple seasons. Then Colton Whitehead’s book The Underground Railroad won the Pulitzer and National Book Awards. The book is now a series on Amazon Prime that I anticipate watching. Plus recently a series was done on Harriet Tubman’s life. I read the afore-mentioned award-winning book plus a non-fiction title called The Underground Railroad from Slavery to Freedom. 

But the research book that struck me the most was one called Hidden in Plain View: The Secret Story of Quilts and the Underground Railroad. How the book came to be is fascinating because it started with a happenstance meeting in 1994 between an historian named Jacqueline Tobin and an elderly Black woman, Ozella McDaniel Williams, selling quilts in a market building in Charleston, South Carolina. Jacqueline recorded Ozella’s stories of how quilts with messages sewed into the patterns had been used in the U.S. underground railroad and that the tradition came from slaves’ native African countries where the whole cloths themselves contained symbols. Most of us learned about symbols—a particular shape of a weather vane, a lit or unlit coachman’s lantern at the end of a lane, or a painted design over the door of a barn—escaping slaves were told to look for. Or that they used the Big Dipper constellation (the drinking gourd) to guide their path. 

What was shared with Ms. Tobin was how quilts set in a prominent place (a fence rail, a clothes line, an upstairs window) and in a certain position helped escapees along the trail. A quilt of a certain pattern (Jacob’s Ladder was renamed the underground railroad pattern) hung meant the slave had reached a safe place and would be sheltered for the night. A pattern like Flying Geese with multiple triangles could be positioned to point toward the safest route. The Bear’s Paw pattern told of following bear tracks through a mountainous area. Or a quilt with a preponderance of red fabrics could signal danger. In the storytelling tradition of her grandmother and mother, Ozella revealed the Underground Railroad Quilt Code. 

I relied on this information when I wrote Freedom’s Path and had my heroine, Sidonie Demers, doing her small part to aid those along the path from where she lived in Vermont, not far from the Canadian border. For those who like learning about history in an entertaining way, I recommend Hidden in Plain View. 

Blurb Working as a maid in the Deerbourne Inn gives freedom-fighter Sidonie Demers the perfect cover for helping escaping slaves travel farther along the Underground Railroad. The patterns in her quilts serve as messages directing them to the safest route. The cause is a personal one for octoroon Sidonie whose mother and grandmother escaped bondage years earlier. Army Corporal Colin Crawford arrives in Willow Springs, in disguise as a salesman, to ferret out abolitionist activity. Raised in a state that forbids slavery, he's conflicted about upholding the Fugitive Slave Act but believes in laws and fulfilling his duty. The attraction between Colin and Sidonie is evident and irresistible, but what will happen when their true identities are revealed? 

Link for several formats https://books2read.com/FreedomsPath 

As a young girl, Linda was often found lying on her bed reading about fascinating characters having exciting adventures in places far away and in other time periods. In later years, she read and then started writing romances and achieved her first publication--a confession story. Married with 4 adult children and 2 granddaughters, award-winning author Linda now writes heartwarming contemporary and historical stories with a touch of humor and a bit of sass from her home in the southern California mountains. 

To stay connected with Linda: Newsletter signup http://eepurl.com/bjKueH https://www.facebook.com/linda.carrollbradd http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1806413.Linda_Carroll_Bradd https://www.bookbub.com/authors/linda-carroll-bradd https://www.amazon.com/author/lindacarroll-bradd https://bingebooks.com/author/linda-carroll-bradd

LOVING YOUR NEIGHBOR by Marisa Masterson

 It started with a name and then a title. Sookie's Silence. I wanted to use that unusual nickname for my next heroine. I needed a word to go with it, so I chose silence. But why was this heroine silent?

Had she been assaulted? Threatened? I considered all of these and dismissed them. It came to me that Sookie was silent because she could not talk. How would I write a novel where the key female had no dialogue?

Sign language! I had to create a language for her.

I started by researching whether sign language was even invented at that time. Through this research, I discovered the sweet story of a minister who lived out Christ's command to love our neighbors.

It was in Connecticut and the year was 1814. Minister Dr. Thomas Gallaudet had a neighbor whose daughter was deaf. Despite her handicap, Alice appeared to be extremely intelligent. Gallaudet tried to teach the girl to read and write. Quickly, he realized he didn't have the skills to educate her. 

Instead of giving up, the minister raised money to go to Europe. There, he studied at the National Institute for Deaf-Mutes. When Gallaudet needed to return to America, he convinced one of the leading teachers from that school to move to Connecticut. The man agreed, knowing he would help set up a school for the deaf in the United States.

The two men established the American School for the Deaf. This school was free for its students. Over the next forty-five years, many more schools came into existence because of Gallaudet's efforts.

American School for the Deaf

And why? Because one many loved his neighbor enough to make a difference in her life and others in desperate need. I've never read Gallaudet's personal writings, but I am guessing he felt the Lord's calling to do this. And his efforts were certainly blessed.

Back to Sookie. My heroine doesn't have the benefit of learning in a school for the deaf. And, she isn't deaf after all, only mute. She and her sister create a language between themselves and even record it in a dictionary of sorts. This language appears throughout my book as well as a page from their dictionary.

Intrigued? Sookie's Silence releases April 13. Pre-order today if you want to be sure it's on your reading device right away.

PHOTOGRAPHS TO THE RESCUE (How one photographer created tourism for a town.) by MARISA MASTERSON

Imagine it. A small town sitting on a river, occasionally overrun by loggers. It has the only railroad bridge across the Wisconsin River, it's only reason for existing. To my way of thinking, this place should have disappeared once the railroad stopped running and the logging industry quit floating logs down the river. 

The town, Wisconsin Dells, is still going strong. In fact, last month my husband and I made our yearly trip to the spot. There, we took the free tour through the photography studio that saved the town and made The Dells a tourist destination.

In 1865, Henry Bennett set up a photography studio in Kilbourne City, Wisconsin. The man had to do something to earn a living. His gun backfired, badly wounding him during the Civil War. This made it impossible to return to his job as a carpenter.

He quickly found that there wasn’t a demand for portraits. Not enough people in the area. There were, however, incredible rock formations and a lot of activity on the Wisconsin River so he headed there with his equipment. Bennett even created a portable darkroom that went with him.

Those photos became cabinet cards and cards for a stereopticon. The photos became well known across the country. Tourism became an industry in the town as people flocked to the Dells. At the time, the town was called Kilbourne City. By the 1930s, the name was changed to reflect what the people really came to see.

Bennett’s studio went on to be one of the oldest still operating in the United States. He invented many items in the field, even built his own cameras (except for the lenses). His photographs so impressed people, I believe, because he invented the stop-action shutter. It allowed him to freeze motion in the picture, like this one with the man jumping from rock to rock.

The beauty of the landscape, the strange and unique photos, the activity on the river. It all added up to fame for Bennett and continued life for this small town that typically hosts four million visitors each year. 

One of the many waterparks in The Dells.

The Dells Ducks, rescued from WWII, take visitors across land and water.

 

 

While at The Dells, my husband and son explored. As for me, I wrote much of my next book. It's set in Kilbourne City, soon after the town is established.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B089YT9SQV

Alice Cordell is done with isolation. After being shut away to nurse her dying father, she wants to find a community that needs her and will accept her, limp and all. To that end, she trains as a nurse, graduating with the school's first class. The future seems bright until she realizes she's once again being forced into isolation, cut off from her new community of Kilbourne City, Wisconsin

No one could blame Niall MacKenzie for growling at the woman. After all he’d caught her staring into his home through a back window. Worse yet, only minutes later she told him she was his caretaker. He already hates most people in Kilbourne City, Wisconsin after the bitter lie the community accepts about him. Her insistence that he start doctoring those locals shouldn't endear her to him..

Soon he has a fragile nurse to both watch over and resist. A woman that calls to him more as a man than a doctor. As for Alice, the surprise waiting for her will lead to an unwanted marriage and a rivalry that threatens her only hope for a career and a home.

Baked Apple Pudding

by Shanna Hatfield

In my recently released sweet romance Dumplings and Dynamite, the heroine is working (in disguise!) as a camp cook at a gold mine in eastern Oregon during the 1890s gold rush. 

Since I love to bake and collect recipes, it was fun to think about and research the foods she would have been serving a camp full of miners. While most of the offerings were basic (meat, potatoes, bread), when the manager of the mine leaves for a few days, she makes all kinds of treats for the men, endearing herself to them all. 

One recipe I found came from a cookbook published in 1883 called Clayton's Quaker Cook Book, Being a Practical Treatise on the Culinary Art Adapted to the Tastes and Wants of All Classes. Clayton was an acclaimed caterer who lived and worked in San Francisco during the late 19th century. 

The recipe for Baked Apple Pudding seemed perfect for something Hollin, my heroine, would serve the hungry miners. She serves it to them for breakfast, but you could make this to enjoy anytime. Here is a modernized version of the recipe.

Baked Apple Pudding

Ingredients:
2 cups oat flour
2 eggs
2/3 cup sugar
1 tablespoon butter, softened
2 cups milk
3 apples
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 cup nuts (optional)

Directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Peel and core apples then chop into small pieces.
Beat sugar, eggs, butter, and milk together on medium speed. Stir in the oat flour and cinnamon then add the apples. Spoon into a greased casserole dish and bake for one hour, until set.
Serve warm with a sprinkling of cinnamon or a dusting of powdered sugar on top or syrup on the side, if desired. Refrigerate any leftovers.

Here's an excerpt from the story:

Seth had held babies before, including Thane Jordan’s son who would be close to the same age as this little one.

Without waiting for permission, he gingerly lifted the baby. The cries ceased and the baby seemed content to have someone hold her. While he swayed from side to side, he studied the little one. Wispy curls of hair shared the same bright hue as ripe carrots. The baby’s eyes were blue, but Jemma Jordan had told him the eye color of a baby could change significantly by their first birthday. A small nose looked perfect on her pretty face. And the teeny girl he held had the sweetest little mouth, shaped like a rosebud. Her lips worked, as if she wanted something to suck.

A flash of pity swept through him for the baby’s mother who lost her husband and was now working for the contemptible Eustace Gilford. He had no doubt the woman had to rise in the wee hours of the morning to be able to cook a big breakfast for a camp full of miners. It had to be challenging to cook and care for such a newly-born child.

Mrs. Parrish hurried back into the kitchen, saw him holding the baby, and her pale skin blanched white.

“What are you doing?” she asked in a harsh, quiet tone. She moved across the room and took the baby from him with such haste, he had no idea how she’d managed to reach him in so few steps. He couldn’t be certain, but he thought maybe she’d forgotten about her limp.

“I hoped if I held her, she’d stop crying. It worked,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets, although he moved a step closer to the widow. “What’s her name?”

“Keeva.”

“I’ve never met anyone named Keeva. Is it a family name?” he asked.

The woman merely nodded. “It was her great-grandmother’s name.”

“Then I’m sure she’d be proud to have a beautiful little granddaughter to share it with.”

The woman looked at him over her shoulder with an uncertain glare, as though she couldn’t quite figure him out, before she turned back to the baby. “Breakfast is on the table. The men will be in soon. If you want something to eat, you best get out there. If Mr. Gilford didn’t mention it, the men pack their own lunches from the food on the tables near the door.”

“He did say something about that. Thank you, Mrs. Parrish.” Seth tipped his head to her then made his way to the dining room where men began trickling inside.

Eustace directed Seth to a chair at the far end of the long table. When everyone was seated, he pointed to Seth. “Meet our newest employee, Seth Harter. He’ll be drilling and blasting.”

Mrs. Parrish nearly dropped the pot of coffee she carried at this announcement but quickly recovered. Seth wondered how hard he’d have to work to charm the truth out of her. 

In spite of her appearance, something about her made him look forward to trying.

Wishing you a wonderful and very Happy Valentine's Day!

USA Today bestselling author Shanna Hatfield is a farm girl who loves to write. Her sweet historical and contemporary romances are filled with sarcasm, humor, hope, and hunky heroes. When Shanna isn’t dreaming up unforgettable characters, twisting plots, or covertly seeking dark, decadent chocolate, she hangs out with her beloved husband, Captain Cavedweller.

Shanna loves to hear from readers. Follow her online at:

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Giving your Characters Hobbies

About six weeks ago, I was answering interview questions for a blog post to promote my latest title. This set of questions focused on drawing out information about me the person. Huh? I’d been answering such interviews as “me the author” for so long I’d almost forgotten that I used to do other things than write, research and read. So I dug deep and remembered what I did a couple years ago when I was in a writing slump and was avoiding the computer.

I crocheted baby afghans. I love this hobby because it’s portable and can be stopped and started easily. At least, much easier than when sewing or quilting were my hobbies. Plus in winter, I have the added bonus of the garment being created warms my lap. The hobby is relaxing and once I get into a rhythm, I can do it while watching a show on television. When my family lived in Texas, I used all sorts of scrap yarn that I’d gathered over the years and donated the finished blankets to the children’s hospital. My youngest daughter and I did a project at church where we made beanie caps and donated them to a homeless shelter. Unfortunately, a lot of that yarn got donated when we moved from Texas because we knew the 750 s.f. cabin we were moving to lacked enough storage.


I was in the garage a couple months ago looking for canning supplies on our shelves and ran across a couple boxes of yard. Now, I’ve caught the crocheting bug again and have finished several baby afghans in the intervening time. For me, crocheting is automatic. My fingers move in an established pattern while I watch TV and I feel relaxed. The finished projects will be donated to a local women’s shelter so I make all sizes from newborn to toddler.


The heroines of our stories would have crocheted (and knitted and sewed) out of necessity. So, I use the word ‘hobby’ is a loose way, meaning an activity done in spare moments between other tasks. But I have to believe they would have gained the same sense of quiet and used the time for reflection. A seamstress might tat collars and cuffs in the evening to add to her dresses. Such an activity would add unique or artistic touches to everyday wear and would feed the woman’s soul. As would sketching or painting or penning poetry. In other stories, I’ve given men whittling, woodworking, or leather craft hobbies. The characters become richer and more relateable.

In my latest release, A Vow for Christmas, mail-order bride Vika is aware on the train ride from Lincoln, Nebraska, to Gunnison City, Colorado, that she will have to crochet vests and scarves because the mountainous city has a much colder temperature than what she was used to. Then when she arrives, she expands the list to provide items for her new family. 

BLURB

In the three years since his beloved wife died, rancher Chad Rutherford has done the best for his family. But with his sister leaving the family ranch to get married, he needs to find someone to keep house and tend his kids so he places an ad for a mail-order bride.

Left on her own by her brother’s murder, spinster Vika Carmichael must find a way to life. An ad for a mail-order bride from a widower with small children seems like the perfect fit. Until she arrives in Gunnison, Colorado Territory, and wonders if room for her exists in their hearts.

Will two proud individuals find a way to work together, or will their marriage vows be broken by Christmas?


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