What Do You Do When Research Hands You a Curve Ball?

 Egypt has always fascinated me and I have many reference books on my shelf. One period of the ancient land has always fascinated me and I wanted to write a time travel, taking someone from today back to the time when there were many men wanting to become Pharaoh. I also liked the idea of the Hyksos invasion. So I began my research, finding everything I could think of from customs, burial, daily life, the gods and goddesses. I had enough to begin and so I did

 

 

I had just finished the rough, rough draft when I was idly flipping channels on the television when I program about camels came on. Since there were camels in my story, I settled in to watch. Something jumped out at me. There were no camels in Egypt until around one AD. No! Now what was I to do? I couldn’t write this book the way I had planned. I needed an alternate universe. I had read a series on an alternate world taking place in Italy with the Pope and if I remember Venice. This is what I would do. To make my world an alternate one I had to change much. So the first book changed as did the hero and heroine. I also changed the gods, not really, just a bit giving three main ones Horu (Horus) Bast and Toth. And so the trilogy of an alternate Egypt was born. All because there were no camels in Egypt when I wante54r4rd them to be there.

Can too much research kill a story? by J. S. Marlo

J. S. Marlo BWL Author Page

I started writing a new series Unraveling the Past, and as the name suggests, it takes place in the past. The first book of the series Misguided Honor takes place in Nova Scotia in 1941. It’s the first time I write an historical novel...or a ghost.

When I lived in Nova Scotia decades ago, I heard the legend of a ghost haunting a special building. Back then the legend fascinated me, so I thought one day I’ll write a story around it. Well, that day has finally come.

Before I begin writing, I searched for the origin of that legend. Well, not only didn’t I find any reference to it, but the facts I gleaned about the building differ substantially from the legend. To my great disappointment, I was forced to admit to myself that there might not be much truth behind that legend and that reality check made me pause.

The story I had in mind no longer held any grip with history, so where do I go from there? Do I still use the real building in the real town in Nova Scotia or do I create a fictional town? While the later gives me more artistic freedom, it also changes the impact of the story as this little town in Nova Scotia is full of history, just not the history I was hoping to delve into.

I wrote the first chapter last week then life happened and I had to take a few days off. I opted for the real town, but I’m not convinced yet it was the right choice. Once I reread it, I’ll decide if I like the feel of it, but regardless of my decision, I will write that story. The research, though contradicting, didn’t kill my story, but it made me rethink it.

Misguided Honor might not turn out exactly how I had planned, but in the end, I like to believe it will make it that much better. Still, I can see how research can send a muse for a spin, making her dizzy and confused.

I hope my muse will eventually forgive me.

JS

 J. S. Marlo's Website

RESEARCH BOOKS

OREGON TRAIL DIARY - MARGARET TANNER

I haven’t read anything of late except books that I needed for research. I picked up a book in the library and thought it would be as dry as dust to read, but I was desperate for the information it might have contained. Well, what a surprise. I actually read the whole lot, not just the sections that I thought I would need. Normally, I would skim through the pages looking for information, but I actually read this book from cover to cover. It is called Days On the Road, Crossing the plains in 1865, and was the diary of Sarah Raymond Herndon. She was a 24 year old school teacher who left her native Missouri with her mother and brothers, to join a wagon train heading along the Oregon Trail. They were four months on the trail. She kept a diary and it made for a fascinating read.

The reason I was interested in this kind of information, is I have recently started writing Western Romance, and I wanted to get a better feel for the hardships people endured out on the plains. I am multi-published in historical romance set in Australia, and very familiar with our history, but American history, well, I can do with a little help.

I really enjoyed reading about Sarah and her mother straining milk into a butter churn that had a lid, and fixing it to the front of the wagon, where it was churned into butter by the motion of the wagon. How clever was that.

What I really found interesting (maybe it’s the romantic in me), was the fact that with so many single young men available, a couple of doctors and reasonably well to do gentleman who were interested in Sarah, she had no interest in any of them.  She did eventually marry, but not in this story.

A few months after the family’s arrival in Virginia City, a school was started and Sarah became a teacher there, earning the princely sum of $125.00 per month. So, you can see this book was a goldmine of information on day to day living for someone like me.

_{ADAM’S FRONTIER BRIDE}

_{Fear almost crushes Tommy Lindsay when she arrives in South Dakota to live on her uncle’s isolated ranch.  She will need all her courage and daring to survive the hard times ahead.}

 _{Adam Munro is a wealthy rancher who thought he only wanted a presentable wife who would give him heirs.   When he meets Tommy, he is smitten. Can he ever hope to capture the heart of this beautiful English rose?}

 _{http://amzn.com/B01AHTA5GM}

How The Ghost Dance Originated by Ginger Simpson

Writing historical westerns with a smidge of romance and sex is my passion.  Although I've drifted away from the genre from time to time, I keep getting called back by my characters.  Yes, you know I hear voices  and amost of them have a twang. 

 I just submitted two re-releases to Books We love, and as you probably guessed, they are historical westerns.  My nose is always in a research book because when you write about historical facts, you'd better get them right.  Here's a little info on the kind of stuff you find when you're looking.  You may not always use the information in a book, but learning is always a good thing.

While researching history, I've turned again to my wonderful "America's Fascinating Indian Heritage" published by Reader's Digest.  I cannot tell you how many times I have counted on this historical guide to help me get my facts straight...and to learn.

In 1881, Sitting Bull and his Sioux tribe surrendered to the U.S., closing the history of the plains Indians as we know it.  All plains Indians were confined to reservations in the Dakotas,  to lands so dry and unyielding, that even experienced farmer's would encounter problems working the soil.  The people were expected to survive on supplies rationed by the government to supplement what they grew, but sadly, the food they received was as scarce as the yield they garnered from the tilled soil.

Land-hungry white men took advantage of the starving Indians and tried to buy their plots for as little as 50 cents per acre, and certain government agencies pressured the red man to consent to sell off the excess real estate. Caught in the middle of greed and hunger, the tribe sustained themselves with memories of the old days.

Far away, a Paiute prophet, Wavoka had a vision that spread and gave a new hope to the desparity.  The Ghost Dance would bring a new dawn and a time when the white man would disappear.  The dead would be resurrected and all Indian existence would change, living forever and hunting the new herds of buffalo that would reappear.

In preparation, The Ghost Dance had to be performed, a simple ceremony consisting of dancing and chanting, often resulting in a frenzy where participants often fell into a semi-conscious state and saw visions of the coming of the new world.  A Ghost Dance shirt, thought to make the wearer safe from the white man's bullets, was adopted, and because so many wore such shirts, the garments may have been the reason the ritual was considered a war dance.

Despite mistreatment at the hands of the whites and the undertones of the Dance, no antiwhite feelings were expressed and the message of the cult was one of peace, but fear mongering among the white officials on the reservation and spreading of gossip pointed a finger at Sitting Bull, who was thought to be the focus of the ceremony.

  Forty-three Indian police were ordered to arrest him, and descended upon his cabin.  He fought against the injustice due to what has been said to be taunts from old women to resist the whites once again. Shots were fired and at the end, fourteen people, including Sitting Bull lay dead.  More next month of the aftermath known as the Slaughter at Wounded Knee.

Note from Ginger:  All information pertaining to the Ghost Dance is attributed to Reader's Digest.  I have paraphrased to share this event with you.

Here are my two latest releases from Books We Love.  Find them on my page and click the covers for more information and purchasing options.

The books I've stopped reading by Sheila Claydon

Although I love to read I'm becoming more and more picky with age. I no longer read books where too many words get in the way of the story. Ditto books where the author shares every detail of every bit of research ever done. Recently I read a book that listed all the tools a thatcher uses together with a 'how to' guide, while another one described an autopsy in such detail over several pages that it read like a medical text book. Although I'm never going to thatch a roof or become a pathologist it doesn't mean I'm not interested. What I don't want to do, however, is waste time reading pages of badly disseminated research that add nothing to the story.

I didn't need to know about shearing hooks, legatts, crooks and pins and nor did the police sergeant in the story, who was told apropos of absolutely nothing. The detail, which took up 3 pages, was not only entirely irrelevant, it came out of nowhere. At first I thought the conversation held a hidden clue  but no, the victim was shot, not sliced open with a shearing hook.

I have another bugbear. If, after a paragraph or two, I find myself editing some of the author's convoluted and wordy sentences in my head, I know the book is not for me.

Facts are fine, so is descriptive prose if it adds to the story, but I'm of the Stephen King persuasion. Write the book. Put everything in it and then take out half when you first edit it, and more again the second time around.

Then there's the plot. A good plot keeps me guessing almost to the final page while a bad plot bores me to death. This happened last week and halfway through the book I did something I've never done before, I turned to the end. It was a crime novel by a well known author who has had work translated into a very successful TV series, so my expectation was high. The only downside as far as I could see was that it comprised 650 close typed pages, a bit long for a 'Whodunnit'. Sadly the author let me down. I worked out the entire plot as well the outcomes of quite a few of the side stories within the first half dozen chapters. When I also found myself continually re-writing some of the sentences in my head I gave up, turned to the end, confirmed what I already knew, and then chose another, very much more enjoyable and well written book about the young Australian war brides who were transported to Britain at the end of WW2.

That TV series thing gets to me too. Although I've read some good ones I've also read a number of poorly written books by different authors that have been turned into very successful TV series.  Is the success of the TV version down to a very talented script writer and director or have I missed something? I'd love to know how producers choose their stories. Do they actually prefer a book they can tinker with,  look for characters who need to become more rounded, a plot that needs tightening up? I wish I knew.

My attitude is a personal one of course. Some readers enjoy lengthy prose and I have one friend who can't abide modern literature and just re-reads all the old classics. There's certainly a place for those in our literary lexicon but fashions change, and some of the old stories I once enjoyed now seem wordy and contrived, although others have stood the test of time to an admiral degree, so yes, I'm picky about the classics too.

Am I like this because I'm becoming more selective as I grow older, or is it because I'm a writer? It's probably a bit of both, but what I do know is that life is far to short to waste time reading a book I'm not enjoying. What about you?

For a great many very readable books go to http://bookswelove.net

For my own (I hope) readable books, go to amazon.com/author/sheilaclaydon or http://bookswelove.net/authors/claydon-sheila/

THE MAN ON THE TEN DOLLAR BILL

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I used to occasionally ask the clerk, when I handed them a ten, if they knew whose picture that was. Mostly, the answer was “some president.”  If there was no one waiting, I’d give a short history lesson by saying, “No, this is Alexander Hamilton, first secretary of the Treasury. If he hadn’t done his job, by figuring out how to pay off the Revolutionary War debt and balance the budget, there wouldn’t be a United States today.” While this is a gloss of all his myriad accomplishments during the few short years he held the Secretary’s office, I’d hope it would make an impression. Now, because Hamilton is about to be removed from the $10 by a less illustrious successor at Treasury, the people who know their American History—and their Hamilton--are surprised and saddened

Timothy Geithner as well as other veterans and current occupants of high office have come to Hamilton’s defense. Ben Bernanke said of Hamilton "…without doubt, the best and most foresighted economic policymaker in U.S. history." Editorial writers for the New York Times, US Today, WSJ, and noted historians, like Ron Chernow, whose biography of Hamilton is now considered the definitive work on his high-powered subject, have also registered their thoughts upon the matter.

But I’m a mere fiction writer, and to me there’s always been more to Hamilton than sterling service to his adopted country. Wanting to connect fully with his personal life, I discovered a wealth of primary source in the form of letters.  Fortunately, Elizabeth, his devoted wife, pursued and collected these in her long years of life after her husband's death. In these private communications, I was allowed a glimpse of the man behind the myth, his masks, his follies, instances of teasing and tenderness. Letters allow us, all these years later, to form an idea of what he was like. 

 I’ll start my examples with a political slur—on Hamilton and the American army—which was published in Rivington’s Tory Gazette in 1779, when he was George Washington’s most effective aide de camp. It evokes a picture of a bold, cheeky young man:

“Mrs. Washington has a mottled orange tom cat (which she calls in a complimentary way, ‘Hamilton’) with thirteen stripes around the tail and its flaunting suggested to congress the thirteen stripes for the flag.”

In his youth, among his male friends, Hamilton plays the worldly rake. Here are excerpts from a letter sent to a fellow ADC and dear friend, John Laurens, during the Revolution, a joking discussion of his requirements for a wife:  

“She must be young, handsome (I lay most stress upon a good shape), sensible ( a little learning will do)…of some good nature…as to religion, a moderate stock will satisfy me. She must believe in God and hate a saint. But as to fortune, the larger stock of that the better…though I run no risk of going to purgatory for my avarice, yet as money is an essential ingredient to happiness in this world…it must needs be that my wife, if I get one, bring at least sufficency to administer to her own extravagancies…You will hear of many competitors for most of the qualifications required who will be glad to become candidates for such a prize as I am…(and) mind you do justice to the length of my nose…”

Daily life was far different before the advent of phones and rapid travel. Letters illuminate the hardships and stresses that might devolve upon an 18^th Century family. Hamilton was often away from home, either riding the circuit as a lawyer, or while serving in some distant public body. Sometimes, his wife and children were in Albany with her Schuyler parents to escape the oppressive, fever-ridden city summers of Philadelphia and New York. Often, as a result of his indefatigable public life, (in the example below, during a term in the Continental Congress,) the family was separated. Here's a particularly anxious letter from a young husband to his wife:

“…I have borne your absence with patience ‘till about a week since, but the period we fixed for our reunion being come I can no longer reconcile myself. Every hour in the day I feel a severe pang on this account and half my nights are sleepless. Come my charmer and relieve me. Bring my darling boy to my bosom. Adieu Heaven bless you and speedily restore you to your fond husband…”

“I wrote to you my beloved Betsy by the last post…I count upon setting out to see you in four days; but I shall not be without apprehensions of being detained ‘till I have begun my journey…at this time, (attendance in) the House is thin…I give you joy my angel of the happy conclusion of the important work in which your country has been engaged. Now in a very short time I hope we shall be happily settled in New York.”

Many letters show concern about the ill health of their children. Originally, Hamilton had come to America to study medicine, and a continuing interest in the subject is evident throughout his life.

“The Secretary of the Treasury presents his respects to the president. The state of health of his little son and the situation of Mrs. Hamilton in consequence of it oblige him to request the present to excuse him from attending the interview with the Indians today and also to ask the President’s permission to make an excursion into the country for a few days to try the effect of exercise and change of air upon the child…”  To George Washington, July 11, 1794

Here, Hamilton, recently returned to the Capitol, writes to Elizabeth, absent in Albany with her younger children, one seriously ill, on Aug. 17, 1794:

“My Beloved Eliza… I am happy to inform you that the precious little ones we left behind are well… My heart trembles whenever I open a letter from you.” (Their youngest, John Church, had several strange "cures” tried upon his little body that summer, some suggested by his anxious father and others by attending physicians.) “The experiment of the pink root alarms, but I continue to place my hope in heaven…Alas, my beloved Johnny--what shall I hear of you! This question makes my heart sink….” 

“…If his fever should appear likely to prove obstinate, urge the Physician to consider well the propriety of trying the cold bath…”

And this last, a recollection by this same "Johnny," written down many years later: 

"...In the morning, early, he awakened me. Taking my hands in his palms, all four hands extended , he told me to repeat the Lord's Prayer. Seventy years have passed over my head, and I have forgotten many things, but not that tender expression when he stood looking at me...nor the prayer we made together the morning just before the duel..."

Whatever his other failings, Hamilton was a man who loved his family. As a writer particularly interested in the "little domestic world," as experienced in the past, this made him particularly fascinating to me.

~Juliet Waldron

http://amzn.com/B00V8UT9I0

See my other historical novels at:

http://bookswelove.net/authors/waldron-Juliet

Research or Over-Research – Where Does a Writer Draw the Line?

Every writer knows even when writing a nonfiction novel: making it up requires research.

Like storytelling, the mind of the writer to research never stops. Isaac Asimov once said he was writing every minute he was in the shower; in the shower, he was only thinking about his writing. In the same way, research for my novels has become a part of me.

Romantic Suspense requires its writers to be reliable witnesses. Contemporary Romance requires its writers to pay special attention to details which enhance the emotional connection. Biting humor/chick lit requires the writers to take contemporary events and spin them off kilter.  While young adult/tween fiction requires a lighter touch-- with a connection to the teachable psyche and the future of humanity.

Most writers try to strike a happy medium when conducting research, leaving enough wiggle room with reality to spin a good yarn. Yet research has a cumulative effect. Once you start, you don’t stop.

You can already where I fall on the research graph: once I start, it’s difficult, if not impossible, for me to stop conducting my research.

So, here are few of my research questions (Gumbo Ya Ya: for women who like romance Cajun & men Hot & Spicy):  can a true gypsy (real medium/fortuneteller type) foretell her own future? What does a television producer do during the course of her day—when she’s key suspect in a murder investigation? What does it feel like to be on a pirate ship during the 1600s? Does time travel hurt? Bachelor Auction--what goes on during a Bachelor Auction? How does one concoct an accidental love potion? And, lastly, from my next “Fun and Sassy Fantasy” series: do gargoyles really know how to fly?

Remember research is not story. Trivial facts gathered from a variety of experiences can change the course of a future narrative.

Growing up in a career naval family gave me an almost inherent knowledge of the sea and maritime history. While residing in San Diego, California I visited the “Star of India” (16^th century sailing vessel) moored at the harbor. My husband, being from Louisiana, made Cajun country and New Orleans frequent vacation destinations, and gave me ‘instant atmosphere’ for my setting. While I reside within driving distance of Hollywood, Universal Studios in the like, aside from a short internship in theater makeup technique, I am not a ‘go-to-person’ in all things Hollywood.

What am I to do?

I went to a local Starbucks, ordered a tall Pikes blend (1 Equal, nonfat milk), selected a table by the window and plopped down my iPad, pulled a chair near my table and conducted a Google search. Alas, Google is not the Oracle of Delphi. My next step was to log on to the local library Web site where I selected related research materials and reserved them for front desk pickup.  This I knew, would not quench my search of knowledge.  

With a heavy sign (knowing what weekday traffic was like) I decided to participate in a SoCal tourist day at Universal Studio (tour and City Walk).  I paid careful attention to all things visible during the freeway drive, my impression of the back lot and studio history.  I also interviewed employees and tour guides, and park visitors. Later, while grabbing a quick snack and the “Hard Rock Café” I spied the red carpet being set-up for a movie premier.  

Yay, pay dirt! 

A few more questions, observations, and a few interesting true stories (no names mentioned) told in passing, and I was good to go.

Will everything I discovered end up in my Anthology?  Most likely not.  Have I completed my research on the above mentioned topics?   Since my husband frequently asks if my office is a satellite branch of the public library, I know if I’m not researching this topic I will find another point of interest.

Reading isn’t a spectator event. 

You experience life.  The more knowledge you have, the better-equipped you are to tackle any challenge you’ll ever face.

No matter know much stress you have at work, in your personal relationships, or daily life, it all just slips away when you lose yourself in a great story.

May your holiday season be filled with joy, peace, and love.

Connie Vines

http://www.novelsbyconnievines.com

http://bookswelove.net/connievines.php

It's a Dirty Job...

By Jenna Byrnes

Research can be so tedious. Long hours spent on the computer, checking and double checking facts.

But I digress... which I do easily, when I'm researching online. It doesn't take much at all for me to wind up looking at pictures when I'm supposed to be checking facts. Not just those pictures. Lighthouses, inns, prisons, small towns, names -- I love looking through lists of names!

I think back to the olden days when a person had to go to the public library to look something up. I used to digress there, too, wandering up and down the aisles looking for titles that piqued my interest. I stumbled upon Go Ask Alice at the library, and I must have read it a dozen times or more. What that has to do with this post, I have no idea. My mind associates it with the library, I guess. I continue to digress, and yes, I like that word.

Before we had the library, most of my research was done in the set of encyclopedias my parents bought--or should I say, started to buy. The version in my house ended when JFK was president, so I had to guess about anything that happened after 1962-ish. The books were better than nothing, and I remember thinking my family was lucky to even have them.

The internet has made 'research' more accessible to the masses. Of course, you have to know what to believe (If it's on Wiki, it must be true?) And you have to know where to look. Occasionally when I get a little too technical with my keywords, I open up a whole 'nother world of stuff I might never have known existed. Sometimes, I use that back button on the browser and scoot right out of there. But sometimes, like a train wreck, I just have to look. Before I know it, my writing time is over, and not a lot has been accomplished.

Bottom line, research is not my favorite pastime. I do what I have to do, but try not to get mired down in the muck.

*sigh* 

-------------------

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When Your Character Turns Mute by Ginger Simpson

annagain.com

There are two kinds of writers...well maybe three if you count the folks who do a little of each, but most are "plotters" and the rest are "pantsers."  I'm pretty sure the term "plotters" tells you thet author actually plots out the story from beginning to end.  What the heck is a "pantser," you ask?  We write by the seat of our pants, meaning our characters speak to us and tell us how the story should progress.  Our job is to turn the telling part into showing and making the story into a novel.  Things are great as long as we "pantsers" have voices in our head.

Unfortunately, sometimes our hero/heroines turn mute.  For no apparent reason, they just stop talking and then we're stalled.  I'm in this predicament with Yellow Moon, a novel I promised Books We Love I'd finish months ago, but my heroine either decided she doesn't like me, or she's as confused as I am.  When silence happens, I either sit and twiddle my fingers, or I do what I've done while on vacation: start a new story with someone who wants to chat.  I've somehow conjured up a gal named Harlee, and she's telling me all about Oklahoma and the drought.  Thank goodness, she's quite the talker.  In fact, I can't get her to shut up and realize I can't type when I'm holding a twenty-pound dog who thinks it's more fun to ride in my lap than have the whole back seat to himself.  Go figure.

I'm still trying to figure out why I write historical novels because even though the character tells me a story, they don't often know all the details, so there is a whole lot of research involved.  Right now, I can't wait until I get back to my Internet so I can determine if a towel was indeed called a towel back then, if water closets were existent, and if so, what type of bathtub one might find in one.  Seems like small details, but I've learned if you aren't accurate with your historical facts, even though you write fiction, someone is bound to notice and tell the world.  The last thing an author wants to lose is their credibility.

So, with that explained, I'd like to share a little of Harlee's growing novel with you.  It's going to be entitled, The Well.  I hope this makes you look forward to reading more.  And remember, this is a first draft, so it's likely to change a little later on down the line.  *smile*

A little set up:  Logan has rescued Harlie and has taken her to his home. This scene introduces her to his mother and the beautiful house in which the Caruthers live.

Inside, a massive entry with a multi-colored, braided rug greeted her.  White pillars separated that space from a setting room with beautiful furniture that looked as though it had never been used.  Elegant emerald silk draperies framed both windows, and a shining wooden floor so unlike the rough planks in her house edged yet another beautiful braided rug–this one in shades of green.  The whole place smelled of cinnamon apples.

A lady wearing a high-collared blue velvet dress swept into the room.  The golden locket around her neck sparkled against the dark background.  Surely this wasn’t how she dressed every day.  Not even one stray hair hung from the graying tresses she wore pulled back into a bun. Although the hairstyle made her appear more matronly, Harlee had never seen such finery.  The older woman’s beauty showed through the few wrinkles on her face and didn’t hide her resemblance to her son.

  “Oh, there you are Logan–”  Her salt and pepper brows rose.  She eyed Harlee’s dishevlment and frowned.  “Who...who’s your friend, dear, and why are you carrying her?”

"Ma,  this is Harlee Wagner.  She's had a bit of bad luck.  I found her at the bottom of the well on the property Pa’s interested in.  She thinks she’s been there for about four days, and seems to have lost her family.  I insisted she come here to get something to eat and clean up.  I’m hoping you have something that might fit her.”  He looked at Harlee and smiled.  “Oh, and I’m carrying her because after her fall, she’s weaker than a newborn colt.”

“But, she’s getting muck all over your shirt.”  His mother wriggled her nose.

“It’ll wash, don’t fret so”  He sniffed the air.  “What smells so good?”

“Cook has just finished a grand cobbler.  You’re just in time, and... Harlee was it?  You definitely are a rumpled mess, but I’m still pleased to meet you.  If Logan has promised you help, you’ll definitely get it.  You’re welcome in our home.”  Mrs.  Caruthers words held more sarcasm than warmth.

Thank you, ma’am." Harlee's voice turned hoarse again. "I assure you I don’t usually look or sound like this, but after sitting in water for a few days, this is what you get.  I’m sorry about Logan’s shirt.”

Mrs. Caruthers ran an assessing gaze over Harlee.  “Like he said, his shirt will wash, and so will you.  I think I can probably find something for you to wear.”

“I’d appreciate that very much.  Whatever you find doesn’t  have to be anything fancy.”

“No worries, I might have an old dress or two for you, but first lets get you cleaned up.”  She wrinkled her nose again as if she smelled something bad.  “Oh, and you must be starving after being in a well for so long.  Once you bathe and change, Cook can fill up that empty stomach of yours while you tell me all about your fall.”

Logan started up the stairs with Harlee still in his arms, but paused on the first one and looked back at his mother.  “ I’m going to fetch the doc.  Harlee took quite a tumble, and I want to make sure she’s not hurt more than she lets on.”

“Of course, son.  I agree, we need to have the doctor check out our guest.And don’t you worry about anything, Harlee.  Logan will take you to the guest room, and I’ll have the maid come and help you get freshened up. Meanwhile I’ll find those dresses I mentioned.”

Don’t worry?  Logan’s mother had only heard bits and pieces of Harlee’s dilemma.  No matter who told her not to fret, her insides knotted with fear and her head filled with unanswered questions. As soon as the doctor gave his approval, she was ready to find out what had happened to her family.  Besides, Mrs.  Caruther’s had all the charm of a coiled rattler ready to strike and made Harlee feel like next in line to get bit.

***

While you wait for me to finish this book, please feel free to check out all my other offerings on my Amazon page.  In fact, Time-Tantrums and Shortcomings are on sale now for ninety-nine cents until the23rd.  How can you pass that up?