Blog Tour Tuesday: THE BARTERED BRIDE

Today's Blog Tour Tuesday features Lena Goldfinch and her novel, The Bartered Bride.

 About the Book:

What’s a man to do when a "bartered bride" needs a rescue?

Jem Wheeler has always been a survivor. He just wants to make a fresh start in Colorado Springs after the loss of his wife. But then he happens upon a young mute woman being sold off to the highest bidder. He wasn't looking for a mail-order bride. He wasn't looking to rescue anyone either. But desperate circumstances can drive a good man to do things he hadn't planned on doing...

When Jem steps into Annie's life, she's not expecting anyone to save her. Mute from birth, she's just using all her wits to survive. All she’s ever really wanted is a family of her own. For someone to "see" her. To look at her long enough to hear the things she can't say.

Could this bride be just what a grieving widower needs to make a happy home?

The Brides Series #3

Sweet Historical Western Romance / Inspirational Romance

Each book in The Brides series can be read as a stand-alone novel, but reading in order will provide a more complete reading experience.

Excerpt:

Jem took the apple core from his daughter and passed her one of the remaining crackers with a piece of cheese on it. Mae munched that down and looked to him immediately for another, the last one.

He gave it to her, then showed her his empty hands.

She frowned. "More?"

"No more," Jem said, and showed her his empty hands again, making a bigger gesture out of it, as if the little girl was accusing him of hiding some.

If Annie weren't so intent on eating her share of cheese and crackers she might have smiled at the sight of them, one of the most dangerous men she'd ever seen sitting side by side with that tiny little girl. They made quite a mismatched pair.

Mae looked over at Annie, at the last cracker in her hand and the last bit of cheese.

Annie gulped down the mouthful she was chewing. She looked down at the last of her meal and back at the little girl. To her shame, she didn't want to give up her last cracker. She could barely remember the last meal she'd eaten.

"That's Annie's food," Jem admonished the little girl. "You've had yours."

Mae bit her lip. She glanced down at her lap, then back at Annie again.

I can share, Annie attempted to tell Mae with her eyes alone. She snapped her cracker in half--simply unable to bear parting with the whole thing--and passed it across to the little girl. Mae took it and popped the whole thing in her mouth, making Annie smile.

"Mae!" her father said.

She looked at him wide-eyed, her mouth full of cracker. "Whaf dafdda?" she said, muffled, spraying a few cracker crumbs onto his trousers.

He closed his eyes briefly and brushed them off. "You didn't have to give her any," he said to Annie, "but thanks."

Annie grunted, her way of saying she didn't mind that much. She looked down quickly and finished her last bit of food. The crackers had been crispy and the cheese silky and smooth. They'd tasted like heaven.

"You must be thirsty," he said. "Do you mind sharing?"

She shook her head and automatically lifted two fingers.

"Two's no?" he asked.

She nodded, pleased, and lifted one finger. She'd grown up sending signals through the floor of the Ruskins' house, one stomp for yes, two for no. It came natural as rain now.

"And one's yes," he said, catching on quick.

Annie drank deep when he passed her the flask of water, amazed he'd let her drink from it. She tried her best to pour it down her throat without touching her lips to the flask, so he wouldn't regret giving it to someone so dirty. She wished she could tell him thanks, but after Mae had her fill and he took his own swallow, he was back under his hat, likely going over the events of the day.

How he'd stuck himself with her.

How he probably regretted even stepping off the train at the last stop.

She couldn't say she blamed him.

She hadn't much wanted to marry a stranger herself.

Author Bio:

LENA GOLDFINCH writes sweet historical western romance / inspirational romance and books for teens. She’s always been a sucker for a good old-fashioned romance, whether it’s a novel or short story, young adult or adult, fantasy or realistic, contemporary or historical. Lena has been a finalist in several national writing contests, including the RWA Golden Heart and ACFW Genesis contests. She enjoys life in a quiet, small town with her husband, two kids, and two very spoiled Black Labs. 

Author Links

Website: www.LenaGoldfinch.com

Facebook Profile: https://www.facebook.com/lenagoldfinch

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/LenaGoldfinchAuthor/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/lena_goldfinch

  

Purchase Links

Kindle | Nook | iBooks | Kobo

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The Truth About Wild Bill Hickok

Wild Bill Hickok – Part 1

               

The story of “Old Abilene” continues with the tale of Wild Bill Hickok.  The last time we spoke of Abilene I told you about the true hero of this wild town, Tom Smith.  Desperados feared, but liked, Tom Smith – they feared, but hated, Hickok.

Wild Bill Hickok may have been the fastest draw gunman and one of the most colorful personalities to roam the West, but he was a four-flusher whose exploits were grossly over rated.  His exaggerated and over-publicized reputation far outdid his record, there and elsewhere.

According to hand written diaries about early Abilene by J.B. Edwards, much that was written about Wild Bill was untrue and misleading.  Edwards, who lived to be 106, was the last man alive who knew Hickok personally.  His diaries are, so far, are the best authentic written record anywhere.

Hickok was a flamboyant, gambling, ladies’ man wo wore silk shirts and perfume, but at the same time a demo with his guns in either or both hands at the same time.  Nevertheless, he was a flop as a cop!

Many believed he served for years as a brave western police officer, but he actually served less than one year, altogether, wearing a badge at both Hays and Abilene.  He was fire at both places.  His most successful days were spent as a Civil War scout and spy who did outstanding duty in filtrating and working behind enemy lines.

Bill Hickok was born in Illinois in 1838.  His family was deeply religious.  Hickok was good with horses and pistols and he worked his way west as a stagecoach driver and roustabout.  He eve tri farming on long the Missouri border, but he craved action and excitement.  Being a rabid Union sympathizer, he joined up as a scout and guide – but was never a bona fide soldier.  Word is – he was well paid! His main assignments included rooting out the location of Confederate troops, collecting intelligence about supplies, troop movements and pending attacks.  

He was such a charmer, women and barmaids were among his best sources of information.  He was captured once, convicted as a spy and sentenced, but escaped after cutting the guard’s throat while he was asleep.

                                                                       * * * *

There is so much to write about Wild Bill Hickok – Please come back on Monday, February 4, to hear more about this legendary sharp shooter!

                                       Jesse’s Nightmare – Book 2 in the Jesse Series

Blurb

Ginny and Jesse are expecting their first baby. It's almost April and even the snow that continues to fall doesn't dampen their moods - until something starts ripping apart the livestock.

But when Jesse comes home during a blizzard and finds his wife and daughter missing, he chokes on a fear that he hasn't felt in a long time!

Excerpt

Ginny and Sarah were not quite half way to Etta’s when the snow started to fall. She had kept an eye on the sky but was sure they would be there before it got too bad. She thanked God the wind wasn’t blowing so the blankets she had brought would keep them warm, if the snow didn’t get any worse. But it did get worse, much worse.

She had been to Etta’s many times, but never in a snow storm. The road was completely covered with snow and the scenery looked different. There were trees here and there along the way but every time she thought Etta’s house was right behind some trees, it wasn’t.

“Mama, I’m cold.” Sarah’s lips quivered and her teeth chattered.

“I know, sweetie. I am too. Etta’s place is just ahead.”  What has she done? Should she turn around? Could she even find her way home? Dear God, please help. 

They went on a ways farther, but Etta’s house was nowhere to be found. She decided to turn Belle around and follow the tracks back from where she came, but saw they were already covered. Could Belle find her way home? Ginny figured that might be their only chance. She turned the wagon and hoped Belle could save their lives.

Ginny didn’t know how long they had been going. The blankets were soaked. Sarah was on her lap and they used their body heat to keep warm. Ginny kept Sarah talking, trying to make her sing. “Don’t go to sleep, Sarah. Do you hear me?” Panic bubbled up in her throat. The little girl was shivering violently. “Sarah!” She shook her and Sarah started crying.

In the distance, through the falling snow, Ginny thought she saw something by some trees but she wasn’t sure. She clicked the reins and headed that way. As she neared it looked like a building of some sort.

“L-l-l-ook, S-s-sarah. It’s a-a-a house.” Her mouth wouldn’t work. 

Buy Link

http://amzn.to/1Isjfcf

Victorian New Year Celebrations

 

Happy New Year!

As we all say goodbye to 2015 and welcome 2016 on this day, I can't help but reflect on the tidbits of historical fact I've gathered about how our great-great-grandparents and their contemporaries marked the holiday.

Traditions during the American Victorian Era at the holiday of New Year's were most different than today. Contemporary Americans enjoy a federal holiday, time off work (for many but not all), and many holiday parties are held on New Year's Eve, not on New Year's Day (at least when it comes to starting time). Anyone who attended a New Year's Party last night probably had a celebratory drink... or several. Alcohol, in 2016, is a big part of New Year's. Not so in the Victorian period.

"In the late 1880's the great New Year's rite was not a big party the night before, but quieter customs on the day itself. During the '70s single gentlemen armed with fancy calling cards went on a round of visits to ladies of their acquaintance, aided by local newspapers, which printed long lists of damsels who would be "at home" to such callers. But by 1880, bachelors had so abused the custom ("This is my 47th call!" shouted one swain on the run) that it died of social disapproval. married men, however, continued to observe the day, either by taking their families to fancy restaurants or going calling en famille-- a practice that, like bachelor calling, did not always fall within the bounds of etiquette."

~This Fabulous Century, 1870-1890, by the Editors of TIME-LIFE BOOKS, 1970

In the mid- to late-Victorian American Era, it was fashionable for the ladies and children of the families-- including young males under age ten-- to remain at home to receive callers. The men (especially eligible bachelors) were expected, at least by social niceties, to make calls on the families who had marriageable daughters. These New Year's calls were considered good luck and a favorable portent for young women hoping to make a love match in the New Year. Most calls would last from noon 'til six only so the evening could be reserved for family dinner celebrations and dinner parties. Yet, this quote originating in Godey's Lady's Book suggests calls didn't necessarily end by six in the evening. In fact, it appeared that local customs dictated when the insanity of a constant stream of well-wishers could end.

PROPER CALLING

"Ladies expecting calls on New Year's should be in readiness to receive from 10 a.m. to 9 p.m. Upon calling, the gentlemen are invited to remove overcoat and hat, which invitation is accepted unless it is the design to make the call very brief. Gloves are sometimes retained upon the hand during the call, but this is optional. The call should not exceed ten or fifteen minutes, unless it is mutually agreeable to prolong the stay. The ladies should have a bright, cheerful fire and a table, conveniently located in the room, with refreshments, consisting of fruits, cakes, bread and other food, such as may be deemed desirable. No intoxicating drinks should be allowed."

~Manual of Social and Business Forms, 1873

IMPROPER CALLING 

"Disagreeable callers are the husband and wife who come with a child and a small dog; the husband making himself familiar with the hostess, the dog barking at the cat, the child taking free run of the house, while the wife, passes around the room, handling and examining the ornaments.

Some evening callers make themselves odious by continuing their visit too long, and even when they have risen to depart they lack decision to go but will stand several minutes before taking final leave, and then when wraps are on, will tell one more story while the hostess protects herself as best she can from the incoming gusts of wind and storm, sometimes thus taking a cold that ends in death. When the guest is ready to go-- go."

~Manual of Social and Business Forms, 1873

Bachelors did not need an invitation to call on a young lady on New Year's Day. A calling card would do. Well-to-do gentlemen would commission unique and special holiday calling cards, sometimes with best wishes for New Year's emblazoned across them and occasionally with the man's portrait behind a peek-a-boo flap. This image is of a standard Victorian-Era calling card.

Image of Victorian Calling Card compliments of Old Design Shop

If you've ever toured a museum-house, you'll know entry halls would often situate a silver tray on a credenza for calling cards on "At Home" days, including occasions such as New Year's.

Unfortunately, not all dinner party guests were invited. Prior to the late 1880's, it was most common for fashionable families to post in the newspaper that they would be receiving guests. A buffet would be laid out so their visitors might enjoy a bite to eat (a full meal). In the late 1880's party crashers (for lack of a better term) would see the notice in the paper and pay a call to the hostesses-- strangers, uninvited, and hungry. By 1890 this pattern of announcing one's Open House had drastically changed.

No wonder so many well-to-do husbands took their wives and families out to supper. Restaurants often provided special fare specific to the holiday.

Palmer Restaurant (Chicago) Dinner Menu, New Year's Day (January 1st) year 1885

I'm sure plenty of families dined at home, whether by tradition, expectation, financial capacity, to avoid the weather or avoid crowds. This menu for New Year's was posted in the Pittsburg [sic] Dispatch, Pittsburgh, PA, December 25, 1892:

Looks like a LOT of work to me. In fact, the menu offered in Pittsburg Dispatch includes instructions that run two and one-half columns. Despite my love for all things Victorian, my family will dine in 2016 style. Our traditional favorites are pizza, cheese ball and crackers, favorite holiday treats and goodies, etc.

What about you?

What part of a Victorian New Year's Celebration intrigues you?

How have you (or will you) celebrate the New Year? 

Happy New Year!

Thank you for spending a few minutes with me today.

Wishing you and yours a most joyful and healthy 2016.

Related Blog Posts by Kristin Holt:

American Victorian Era Christmas Celebrations

Victorian-Era Thanksgiving Celebrations
And a complimentary post to this one:
A Victorian Menu for New Year's Day, 1892

 

 

Kristin Holt is the author of ten Sweet (clean) Victorian American West Romances, including 3 soon-to-be-released titles. 
Coming tomorrow (1-2-16) and Monday (1-4-16) [LESSIE: BRIDE OF UTAH and JOSIE: BRIDE OF NEW MEXICO, two books within the American Mail-Order Brides Series]. Book #10 [WANTED: Midwife Bride] arrives on 2-9-16 but it's available for preorder NOW.

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