Tuesday, June 10, 2025

Fallacies and Facts about Ticks – by Barbara Baker

 

‘Tis the season for ticks - those tiny ground-dwelling bugs who hang out in the grass so they can attach themselves to a host, hitchhike a ride and … suck your blood. Why I’ve never related them to Dracula and vampires I’ll never know. 

Growing up in the Rocky Mountains around Banff, I thought I knew all the facts about ticks. Boy, was I wrong.

Google was quick to point out that my youthful tick knowledge was based on hearsay, fallacies and a healthy dose of imagination. For instance, I was sure a tick could bury its entire body under my skin. Wrong. Only their head goes in. I also believed if a tick was stuck under my skin, I should find someone (preferably a smoker with a steady hand) to burn it’s sticking-out-butt with a hot match head or lit cigarette and the tick would back out slowly. Also wrong. Not only is this dangerous but it's ineffective. Did you know tick’s nostrils aren’t in their butt? I was positive I learned that in science class. Anyways, it's not true so putting nail polish remover or Vaseline on their backside to suffocate them is pointless. Ticks don’t jump and they seldom drop from tree branches. Since when?

Now that my grandkids are old enough to go hiking, I figured it’s time I get the facts straight for the health and safety of all concerned.

Here we go:

  • Ticks are arachnids and have been around for 100 million years.

A close-up of a bug

AI-generated content may be incorrect.   A spider on a web

AI-generated content may be incorrect.

tick                                   spider

  • Once on its host, a tick searches for a warm, dark and moist place such as behind ears, under armpits, navel, the groin area, in your hair and behind the knees. Behind the knees baffles me. I checked - it’s not dark or moist behind my knees.

 A ram with horns in the woods

AI-generated content may be incorrect.  A deer standing in the woods

AI-generated content may be incorrect.

A bear walking on the ground

AI-generated content may be incorrect.

  • There’s a substance in their saliva which they inject when they bite. It helps to numb the area and prevents the host from realizing they’ve been bitten. How clever and sneaky.

  • They have small openings on their sides called spiracles which they breathe through. Ticks also have an alternate respirator system called a plastron. It allows them to survive underwater for extended periods because they absorb oxygen from the water. That's sure to impress the grandkids.
  • Ticks breathe a few times every hour and live for two years.
  • To remove a tick use tweezers, grab the tick as close to the skin as possible and gently pull it straight out. Do not squeeze their body.
  • Canada’s Public Health Agency works with provincial programs to collect and analyze ticks because they can transmit Lyme disease and Rocky Mountain spotted fever to humans. Can you imagine coming to work each day to find your desk lined with vials of ticks?

A neat trick I heard about on a hiking Facebook post is to tuck your pant legs into your socks when you go hiking. Then wrap duct tape, sticky side out, at the sock/pant margin. A dorkish look, yes. But it has a purpose. This keeps the ticks from crawling up your legs into your nether regions or behind your knees. The added sticky-side-out method allows you to catch any tick hitchhikers. Or you could just spray your ankles with bug repellant. Also effective and not as dorky looking.

I will have to admit, youthful knowledge based on hearsay, fallacies and creative imagination is fun and funnier than reality at times

Here's one last detail:
  •      Ticks need to have a blood meal to reproduce. After they feast the female can lay from 1,500 to 5,000 eggs.

Are you itchy yet?

To wrap it up, here’s a country song that might make you smile while you itch – Brad Paisley - Ticks (Live)

 


 

Baker, Barbara - BWL Publishing Inc. (bookswelove.net)

Sunday, June 8, 2025

Wedding Dress by J. S. Marlo

 





Undeniable Trait
is available now!
Click here

   
 

  


When my daughter got married... Actually, more like eleven months before my daughter got married, we spent a weekend together wedding dress shopping.


In one boutique we saw a gorgeous deep sapphire blue dress. It looked like a Disney Princess wedding dress. My daughter and I fell in love with it the moment we saw it, but unfortunately the style didn't fit her at all. The dress that she ended up choosing (or was it the dress that ended up choosing my daughter) was even more gorgeous, but it was a classic white, not a stunning blue.




Traditionally, white was the most common colour in many western cultures as it symbolized purity, innocence, and a fresh start. However, not all countries favoured the same colours for the same reasons.

In Chinese culture, red was the traditional and common colour that symbolized good fortune, happiness, and fertility.

In some countries, the more vibrant the colours were, the better for the wedding dress. While browsing for pictures, I saw all the colours, including black.

Until the mid-1800s, black was the traditional colour in Catholic Spain. It symbolized the bride's devotion to her husband until death.

In the 18th and 19th centuries, black was also worn by Finnish brides but not for the same reason. At the time, black fabric was more readily available, and black was seen as a solemn colour that reflected the bride's commitment to marriage.

Back when I got married, I wore my neighbour's wedding dress. It was white, not quite the style I would have liked, but it fitted perfectly. Besides, money was short, and it was cheaper to borrow it for one day than buy a new one that I wouldn't have worn again. In retrospect, it was a lucky dress... I'm still married to that same wonderful husband more than four decades later. 

Stay safe! Hugs!
JS

Friday, June 6, 2025

Cluttered Desks and Half-Finished Dreams- by Debra Loughead

 






https://bwlpublishing.ca/loughead-debra/

My home office is a packrat’s dream. And a neat freak’s nightmare. Not just the physical part of my office either, but the virtual as well. Even my laptop is cluttered with the verbose debris of my entire writing history. Hundreds of files of my started stories, of random chapters, of ideas that never actually took shape into something worthy of submission.

Why can’t I throw away anything I’ve ever written? Especially those actual paper files, stored in an actual filing cabinet, so many folders crammed with old stories from, I’m not kidding, the 1960s when I was a preteen and teen. And so many ‘compostions’ from elementary and high school. Boring typewritten essays from university. What good can all this possibly serve me in the future? 

One of these days I just might succumb to some sort of psychological guilt trip as the piles grow and the sheer volume of it all finally takes its emotional toll. What do they call it in Scandinavia? Swedish Death Cleaning? Does that count for disposing of old story ideas that never got developed? For half-written poems? Essays that never got published? Does it count for posterity? Surely my kids will want all of this someday. (Me, laughing right now.)

One of the pieces of advice I always proffer to budding writers is: save everything you ever write, because you never know when you’ll need it.  Hmmm.  Maybe that was a bad idea after all. Is it possible to become bogged down in the detritus of your own creative drive?  Sometimes I’m overwhelmed by the thought of how much of my time would be devoured if, in fact, I actually forced myself to sit down and sort through it all and throw some if it away.

Just to imagine opening those desk drawers and filing cabinets and beginning to sift through several decades worth of material that I could never bring myself to part with. I’d be forced to dig through the burgeoning piles on my shelves and surrounding me on my desk, the newspaper clippings with story triggers, the stacks of old notebooks and file folders with scribbled ideas, all of which are beginning to severely limit my workspace; just the thought of it positively numbs me. I’m paralyzed—I can’t bring myself to get on with it and start flinging. And then there’s those daunting computer files. So many of them that I would have to open, peruse, then likely decide that maybe it’s a pretty viable idea after all, and surely I’ll find the time to get back to it someday. Hah! As if!

In Wikipedia, the characteristics of a compulsive hoarder are:

the acquisition of, and failure to discard, a large number of possessions that appear to be useless or of limited value 

living spaces sufficiently cluttered so as to preclude activities for which those spaces were designed

significant distress or impairment in functioning caused by the hoarding

That’s me! It fits the description of my desk! And just the fact that I’m writing this and stressing out over it is an indication that I’ve been besieged by it? Isn’t it? Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating. But I’ll bet I’m not the only writer who has this problem. Has anyone else out there saved absolutely everything they’ve ever written? And I mean everything, dating right back to the very first story they ever wrote in grade three called ‘A Narrow Escape for a Mouse’? (I was already obsessed with mysteries and thrillers back then, I guess.) Please say ‘yes’, so I’ll know I’m not the only one with this peculiar compulsion!

In a way it’s served me well. Way back when I was doing frequent school visits, I would  take along my scrapbooks of ‘everything I’ve ever written’ to show the students, and it’s truly an asset when the kids asked me how long I’ve know that this obsession to write has been my calling. In the past I’ve even ‘recycled’ old stories that I started maybe 30 years ago and never came to fruition. Using all of the creative skills I’ve developed in the interim, I’ve revised them and subsequently had them published. 

Hmmm.  Come to think of it, maybe this compulsion to hoard my copious collection of words and sentences isn’t such a bad thing after all! So I’ve decided I’ll live with this curated mess. After all, there might be a goldmine buried under here somewhere.  

Now where did I put that story I started writing in 1985?


Wednesday, June 4, 2025

Home Recipe

 


As the school year rolls to a painstakingly slow close, my heart aches for home.

My 8th graders are done (and pretty much have been for about three weeks). My colleagues are done (our witty banter has slumped to bland comments about the weather between blank stares). My inner cheerleader is spent (I've never been good at feigning enthusiasm). And to those who have ever found themselves saying something like, "But you're a teacher. You have your summers off!" I usually reply with a laugh, "I know! I don't know why everyone doesn't do it."  But the truth is, my body is crying for that ever-blessed two-and-a-half-month stretch affectionately known as "Summer Vacation" but should really be called "Recovery Period". 

I need to be home. Not on vacation. Not on a beach or at some cabin in the woods. Home. I just want to go home.

I want to get up with the birds, water and weed my gardens, love and train my horses.  Care for my chickens, dogs, and cat. Scoop poop. Cook and bake. Clean the house. Hang laundry outside in the sunshine. Mow. Make my weird and wonderful crafts. Read books and write reviews for those books. 

Most of all, I want to write. I want to curl inward at my laptop and let Forever Fields engulf me. I can't wait to see what Paisley Noon gets up to in the days to come. Even typing these words makes me smile.

Here is a poem I wrote long ago. I typically share it with newlyweds and then give the couple a fun collection of handwritten starter recipes. But for some reason, it hits home with me today. 

Enjoy!


Home Recipe

By Julie Christen

 

What does it take to create a home?

A place where you’ll never again feel alone?

 

If it was all written on a recipe card,

I bet it’d be complex, but prob’ly not hard.

 

You’d start with a crate full of laughter for flavor,

Then mix in a dozen warm memories to savor.

 

A bowl full of ideas, hopes, and big plans,

A heart full of love, you’d fold in with your hands.

 

Then you’d sprinkle a palm-full of hard lessons learned,

And season it all with each triumph you earn.

 

Next, you’d mix it all up with some family and friends,

And mash it and mold it, smooth out bumps and bends.

 

The secret ingredients: heritage and advice

Will be just what it needs to add mystery and spice.


You’d bake it inside four walls strong and sturdy

For as long as it takes … be it one year or thirty.

 

You’ll know when it’s ready; it’ll be no surprise

And serve generous portions to all who stop by.

 

Yes, that’s how that recipe card would look

If it were a part of a homemade cookbook.

Monday, June 2, 2025

The ties that bind us – to research by donalee Moulton

 

As you know, my third mystery, Bind, is out in the world. Here’s the pitch:

 

Everything that happens in a yoga studio is not Zen. Sometimes it’s grand larceny. Three yogis, two cops, and one damn cute dog join forces to discover who’s stolen a Patek Philippe watch from what was supposed to be a secure locker.  Time is ticking.

 


                                                            ORDER HERE

As I was writing Bind, indeed, as I was envisioning what the book would be, I patted myself on the back for picking a theme, a location, and characters I was more familiar with than in my previous two books. Less research, less investigation, less fact checking. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

My first mystery, Hung Out to Die, follows Riel Brava, born and bred in Santa Barbara, California, and transplanted to Nova Scotia where he is CEO of the Canadian Cannabis Corporation. It’s business as usual until Riel finds the company’s comptroller hanging by a thread. Actually, several threads. It doesn’t take the police long to determine all is not as it appears. Riel is drawn into helping solve a murder. He’d rather not. His reluctance, in part, has to do with the fact that he is a psychopath. The nicer kind, not the serial killer kind.

To make Riel and the murder realistically come to life, I spent a lot of time researching cannabis production, psychopathy, death by hanging, and upscale coffees. I even spent some time exploring the inner workings of a donair. Riel eats his first in the book; I’ve never had one.

          In a twist, my second book, Conflagration!, is a historical mystery that centers around Marie-Joseph Angélique, an enslaved Black woman accused of setting the lower town of Montreal on fire in 1734.  Philippe Archambeau, a court clerk assigned specifically to document her case, believes Angelique might be innocent. Or not. A reticent servant, a boisterous jailer, and three fire-scorched shingles prove indispensable in his quest to uncover what really happened.

          Of course, the reality of history and the mystery I created immersed me in life nearly three hundred years ago. It also required learning about the French justice system of 1734 and specifically the trial of Angélique.

          You can see why I patted myself on the back when the idea for Bind took hold in my imagination. A watch goes missing from a changeroom at a gym – an expensive watch with a loud, arrogant owner. The theft connects three yogis in a way full lotus never could. As the search for a thief unfolds, so do seemingly unrelated questions. Why does Lexie have such an intense interest in a much-younger trainer at the gym? Who is the unnamed, unknown man who keeps leaving Charlene messages? Why does no one know Woo Woo lives in a mansion?

          I thought research would be minimal. The women in the book are my age, they live in my neighborhood, they do yoga – like me. What more could there be to research? Plenty as it turned out. One of the main characters, Lexie, is a comedian with a popular podcast, so now I’m learning about podcasts. Another main character, Charlene, is an auditor, and suddenly I’m delving into what auditors do exactly and how they do it. Another character, Woo Woo, is a reflexologist…. Well, you get it.

          It’s authenticity that makes writing come to life, and authentic writing requires writers to hunker down and delve into worlds they don’t know well and don’t know at all. I mean who knew a watch could cost $100,000. I had no idea. I do now.




 

Sunday, June 1, 2025

BWL Publishing New Releases June 2025


Lang, Jay - BWL Publishing Inc.

In the shadows of British Columbia’s Comox Valley, a tragic history refuses to rest. Based on chilling true events, Dancing Mary unearths the long-buried story of a young K’ómoks First Nation woman—named Mary by early settlers—who was betrayed and murdered by the very man she once trusted. Her spirit, said to appear as a shimmering blue orb, haunted the area for decades. The last vivid encounter occurred in 1914, when a soldier cycling down Comox Road rode through the ghostly light and described an otherworldly cold that he would never forget. From that moment on, the legend of “Dancing Mary” was born—named for the spectral sway of her ghostly presence.

But Mary's tale is more than just a ghost story.

Interwoven with the haunting is the emotional journey of a grieving father and daughter who return to the Comox Valley to lay to rest the ashes of their beloved wife and mother, lost to suicide in Vancouver. As they confront their own pain, they are pulled into the valley’s dark folklore, discovering a connection between past and present that is as healing as it is harrowing.

Blending historical tragedy, supernatural mystery, and human resilience, Dancing Mary is a gripping narrative of danger, loss, and the power of a spirit who refuses to be forgotten. Both a ghost story and a story of healing, it asks: what happens when the dead speak—and who among the living is ready to listen?




Jordan Barrister loves her grandfather, her unique candle creations, and the life she’s built in present day Chicago. Her latest hobby obsessions, however, are love locks from a section of grille purchased at auction from Paris’ famed Pont des Arts pedestrian bridge. She’s determined to create a lasting tribute to those who put a lock on the bridge to safeguard their love. While a lock is normally used to keep something in, one particular lock accidentally opens a time portal and Jordan finds herself in 1926 Chicago.

Reporter Henry Douglas wants a more intriguing story than interviewing a magician named Harry Houdini. He is a man with a mission, on the trail of Chicago’s gangsters and bootleggers, crooked police and the man who shot his brother. His life doesn’t include beautiful mystery women falling into his arms out of nowhere. But there’s something about Jordan that intrigues him and discovering her secrets might be an even better story. He shouldn’t be surprised that along the way, he finds the other half of his heart.

In the beginning, all Jordan wants is to return to her own time, and she believes the now missing lock holds the key, but she needs Henry’s help to navigate this unknown period of history. By the time they discover the lock’s whereabouts and are in pursuit, she has fallen in love and wonders if she really wants to return to the present. How can she let go of the man who holds the key to her heart? When disaster strikes, they will need to use what they discovered to find the magic of the love lock that will keep their hearts together.

“Barb's books are like meeting up with a dear friend. It's a guaranteed good time full of magic, mystery, romance and a bit of mayhem.” – Anne Barringer, author


Lewis, Diane Scott - BWL Publishing Inc.

Sage, at fourteen, grows up in turmoil in Nahant, Massachusetts. Her changing body, her parents’ rocky marriage. When her cousin Patrick visits for the summer, his parents’ divorce has given him a reckless anger. He insists they explore the creepy mansion in the woods. Nate, Sage’s younger brother, is reluctant to approach the manor where a beloved teacher was found hanged months earlier. The children’s great-great grandmother worked at Lakeluster House in a previous century and was under suspicion of shooting another servant.

Now an old lady and her butler have moved in and the kids bring a welcome cake. Invited inside, Sage encounters a strange little girl who shows her the manor’s dark secrets—sparking Sage’s curiosity. Will the butler—a man with his own mysteries—throw them out for snooping? Who is real and who is a ghost? Was her relative guilty? And what danger lingers in the attic? Sage must gather her courage, risking her life to find out.

Editorial Review by Renee Duke

Review For Secrets Of Lackluster House by Diane Scott Lewis with Jorja Parkinson

TROUBLED TEENS TAKE ON EVEN BIGGER TROUBLE 5*

A YA novel that will definitely appeal to young teens who like scary stories, Secrets Of Lackluster House successfully conveys the insecurity and emotional turmoil of its adolescent and preteen protagonists as they find courage they didn’t know they had.








Hovey, Dean Doug Fletcher series - BWL Publishing Inc.

Deaths in US National Parks are not an uncommon occurrence. However, when the body of a Bourbon distilling icon is found at Abraham Lincoln’s Birthplace National Historic Site, the industry and political implications of the death require special attention. Review Snippets Just finished Strung Out to Die and can’t wait until the next book Dean Hovey puts out. All of his books have been very enjoyable and leave you wondering who is the criminal right up to the end. Nice blend of humor and mystery. - Linda J.  A very unpredictable story, my favorite kind! This book is both thrilling and intriguing, all the way to the end. Western Justice is a definite recommendation by Amy's Bookshelf Reviews.






Saturday, May 31, 2025

                            DEADLINES

From the Editor's Desk




Friends, I know a little about 'time critical'.  

Sometimes it's for a mission where you're finally actually doing something that may be impactful and the fuel gauge is running down 24lbs/min and the ship is sailing away from your current position at 22kts and if you spool up your sonar dome now from its 700' depth it should take about 4min then if you hustle back to the ship's projected position 25mins from now at 130kias you should have just about enough fuel to not have to ditch into the middle of the Mediterranean in time to turn you and your crew into shark bait. 

Sometimes it's life and death and someone has had a couple too many beers and rocketed their snowmobile into the trees during a nighttime ride and their femur's shattered which won't be a problem if the hypothermia has it's way because it was 25 below in the daytime and you know you'll be 12 minutes loading up firing up and getting airborne then you have a 36 minute transit to the scene where the ambulance is useless because this wreck is in 3' of snow about 3 miles from any plowed roads and if you rush this and clip a powerline on final or don't do a thorough check of the weather and pick up a bunch of ice on your tailrotor on the way there you may now be looking at a quintupling of bodies your own included.  

Sometimes it ain't such a big deal.  'Important', sure-  for scheduling and goal setting and planning and all kinds of other elements that keep ink in the presses and our projects on the tracks, but none of these things are multi-million dollar operations or have lives hanging in the balance.  I have to remind people of this sometimes (myself included), lest we get far too wrapped about the axle in this pursuit of writing and publishing- which, in my opinion, should ultimately be enjoyable and satisfying.  

For one thing, we'd like to see finished products that we know the author has had time to go through a few separate times. A job worth doing is worth doing right, after all. If you find yourself saying at some point "eh, good enough, but I HAVE to get this to my editor or all hell will break loose", then you need to take a step back, read this article again (yes, you may reference it when next in this position) and let me know you're just not there yet.  Oh believe me, we'd prefer all went according to our master schedule, but things happen, the best laid plans, etc. We get that, and sometimes it's pretty easy to talk someone else into releasing their book a couple months early in the spot where yours used to be!  

All I ask is for you to keep your publisher posted, keep at it, do your best, and keep the urgency of things in perspective!  


JD

Friday, May 30, 2025

Locked Up by Eden Monroe

 

 

https://www.bookswelove.com/monroe-eden/

Most early jail cells were a horrifying experience.

For one thing, those incarcerated faced grossly inadequate sanitation in dark, squalid lockups, often relying on a slop bucket that ideally might be emptied once a day. Not surprisingly, disease and the spread of vermin were all too often the result of such conditions. But then poor sanitation was a widespread problem in general in past centuries. Besides, human confinement, and the treatment received while there, was seen as a form of degradation, no matter the nature of the crime. During those times anything terrible suffered by an inmate was deemed an appropriate deterrent to criminal behavior. That included unrelenting, agonizing brutality meted out in any number of cruel ways, with devices designed to inflict unimaginable suffering.

Says Daily.jstor.org about the inhumanity of the justice system of 17th and early 18th century colonial America:

“When the time for punishment arrived, it took the form of physical abuse or societal shaming. The stocks, whipping, pillory, and the ducking stool were common State responses used for lessor offenses.

“If someone was found guilty of thievery a letter ‘T’ would be branded on their hand after completing their corporal punishment. Human character at that time was perceived as permanent and immutable; a brand ensured the public would always see this person for what they were, a thief. Public hanging was the preferred punishment for a broad range of more serious offenses.”

Jail rations were typically inadequate and often putrid. With perhaps few exceptions (in some countries prisoners were required to pay if they wanted to eat at all), the accepted rule was that those in prison were not worthy of any form of decency or compassion, and in some jails, because of limited space, prisoners were not even segregated. Men and women were thrown into the same cell.

And whereas the wealthy often received more lenient consideration at the hands of a prejudicial system, such as release upon payment of fines, the poor usually endured much greater hardship. Because some facilities were inadequately constructed and escape possible, prisoners were commonly kept in irons for the entire duration of their stay. In most cases it could be years.

 

         In the United Kingdom during the 18th century, death was the punishment for more than 200 offences. As an alternative to hanging serious offenders, by Act of Parliament in 1718, prisoners were transported by ship to Great Britain’s colonies to serve their sentence on distant shores doing hard labour.

Debtors were also considered to be criminals with legal action brought against them by creditors, and jailed accordingly. Primarily during the 18th and 19th centuries, debtors could easily make up the lion’s share of the prison population. These were people, including tradespeople, who had simply fallen on hard times, and release was incumbent upon the payment of any outstanding debt against them. However, eventual overcrowding of prisons was actually in their favour, as (UK) Parliament would have to occasionally intervene and discharge many of these debtors on certain conditions.

A lack of prison space was an ongoing challenge for authorities, and in addition to small village lockups, castle cellars, underground dungeons and rusted cages, decommissioned war ships, moored at London area docks, were also pressed into service.

Says Parliament,uk about the incarceration of prisoners on those ships: “What began as a temporary measure became a permanent arrangement as prisoners were put to hard labour on the docks and dredging the Thames.”

In early Canada and the United States, debtors were also jailed locally awaiting due process, and to address overcrowding in general, Canada’s first large prison began receiving prisoners in June of 1835 at Kingston in Upper Canada (now Ontario). According to Thecanadianencyclopedia.ca: “Kingston penitentiary, opened with great hopes of solving the problem of crime and criminals, was plagued by dissension, corruption and inhumanity from the beginning.

“The first major investigation, the Brown Report (1849), is full of cases like that of Peter Charboneau, an 11-year-old child committed to Kingston prison for 7 years in 1845. While in prison he was lashed 57 times in 8½ months for offences in the jail, including staring, winking and laughing….”

 

        Jail reforms were slow to come, but over time several individuals and organizations dedicated themselves to addressing systemic issues.

It was the harsh prison conditions witnessed by Elizabeth (Gurney) Fry in the UK’s “filthy and disease-ridden” Newgate Prison that spurred her into action. She was outraged that upwards of 300 women, along with their children, were packed into an inhumanely small space. It was her activism that first saw male and female prisoners properly segregated, also providing education for incarcerated women and children as well as many other important reforms.

John Howard was also an 18th century social reformer, and he dedicated his life to not only improving prison conditions per se, but for better treatment of the prisoners themselves. In Canada, Agnes Campbell Macphail was the first female Member of Parliament in Canadian history, and also a fearless advocate for much-needed penal reform in Canada. In the US, Thomas Mott Osborne, a former prison warden, took up the fight for correctional improvements in his country, as did the like-minded countryman, Austin MacCormick.

There were certainly exceptions, where the gaol (early English spelling) keeper and his family lived in an apartment that was part of the overall structure, and regular meals were provided to prisoners.

Although the incarceration experience today is vastly different from what it once was for most in less enlightened times, and this too varies by country, public laws must still be upheld and justice served. As indicated in statista.com, topping the list of countries with the largest number of prisoners per 100,000 of the national population as of February 2025, is El Salvador, the smallest country in Central America. Last on that list is Belize, also located in Central America. The United States comes in at number five.

And while every country in the world has their own prison system to hold lawbreakers accountable, Vatican City “… the world’s smallest fully independent nation-state” according to Britannica.com, does not have a prison system as we know it.

(ewtnvatican.com) “Firstly, while the Vatican City State operates with its own judicial system and penal code, it lacks a traditional prison. It possesses facilities for temporary detention post-arrest, but these do not constitute a formal jail. Should sentences become enforceable, the convicted individuals would serve their time in Italy, as per the Lateran Pacts agreement. Secondly, the Vatican legislation stipulates that if sentences do not exceed a certain threshold, they may be suspended. Essentially, imprisonment only occurs if additional crimes are committed within Vatican jurisdiction.”

Unfortunately, for any number of reasons, countless innocent people have been wrongfully convicted and put to death, others incarcerated for extended periods of time. This is the fate that has befallen many (especially before fingerprinting and DNA analysis), the longest in the US being, according to theguardian.com, Glynn Simmons. He spent more than forty-eight years in prison before being exonerated for a murder he did not commit.

And being framed for a crime, including murder, is not just the unsettling stuff of entertainment industry imaginations. It’s very real, says mirandarightslawfirm.com: “‘Framing’ is a frightening reality for many criminal defendants. Yes, you could be framed for a crime, and it happens more frequently than we would like to admit….”

In When Shadows Stir, Book Two of The Kavenaghs (1870-1879) a harsh 19th century jail awaits for just such a situation….

  https://www.bookswelove.com/monroe-eden/

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