The Queen

 

 

https://bookswelove.net/martin-paula/ 

The Queen

 Earlier this month we in the UK (as well as many people throughout the world) were shocked to learn that Queen Elizabeth II had died. Yes, she was 96; yes, she had just celebrated her 70th year on the throne. Maybe we should have been ready for it, but somehow we weren’t.

Only two days earlier, she had been photographed asking our new Prime Minister to form a government. True, she looked frail, but we still didn’t expect her to die two days later.

For the majority of people, she was the only sovereign they had ever known. I am actually in the minority, as I do remember her father, King George VI. The Brownie ‘Promise’ I made when I was seven included the words “To serve The King and my country.” About a year later, the head teacher came into my school classroom to inform us that the King had died. I only remember seeing black and white newspaper photos of his funeral.

The following year, there was great excitement about the Queen’s Coronation. Streets were decorated, and street parties were held. My mother had a wool shop and I helped her make a display for the window, with the Union Flag in red, white and blue balls of wool surrounding a photograph of the young Queen.

On the actual day people crowded into the homes of those who actually owned a television, which were few and far between at that time. My parents arranged for me to visit a friend of theirs who did have a television set, and so I watched the Coronation on a black and white, nine-inch TV screen. As a nine-year-old, I confess to becoming somewhat bored by the lengthy ceremony, apart from the actual crowning when everyone shouted ‘God Save the Queen’. After that a few friends and I went out to play in the garden, but we were called back to watch the newly-crowned Queen return to Buckingham Palace in the ornate state coach.

Ten days after the Coronation, we had a school trip to London, at that time a five-hour journey by train. I’m not sure how our teachers coped with about thirty excited youngsters, but we went to Westminster Abbey and also saw all the decorations in the streets, especially the huge arches in the Mall.

We were outside Buckingham Palace, where a lot of people seemed to be congregating on the pavements. One of my teachers asked a policeman what was happening, and was told the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh were due to arrive back from a visit to Greenwich. The policeman then allowed us to climb into one of the VIP stands which had been erected outside the Palace for the Coronation. As a result, we had a wonderful view of the Queen when the open carriage came round the Victoria Memorial and entered the Palace forecourt.

That was my first sight of Queen. Since then, I’ve seen her three more times, and on one occasion I met and spoke to Prince (now King) Charles, but I’ll tell you more next time!

Find me on Facebook: www.facebook.com/paulamartinromances

Link to my Amazon author page:  author.to/PMamazon  

Alberta History in My Writing by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

https://www.bookswelove.com/donaldson-yarmey-joan/

I began my writing career as a travel writer and I drove and camped through all of Alberta, British Columbia, and the Yukon and Alaska, writing about what there was to see and do in those provinces, and the territory and state. I learned a lot of history, saw a lot of beautiful scenery, and met a lot of wonderful people.

The following historical excerpt is about Fort Macleod, along the Crowsnest Highway, from my travel book the Backroads of Southern Alberta. Fort Macleod, coincidently, is the setting for the novel, Illegally Dead, the first book of my Travelling Detective Series.

The Only Shadow in the House is set north and east of Edmonton, Alberta, and Whistler’s Murder takes place in Whistler, British Columbia.

After the Hudson's Bay Company sold Rupert's Land to the Canadian Government in 1869, fur traders from Fort Benton in Montana travelled north into present day Alberta and set up illegally trading posts called Whiskey Forts. They brought wagon loads of whiskey and guns to trade for furs with the natives. The watered down whiskey, laced with any or all of Tabasco, red pepper, tobacco, ginger, molasses, tea, sulphuric acid and ink, drove the natives wild and they brutalized and killed their own tribesmen, other bands, and some whitemen. Sir John A Macdonald, prime minister of Canada at the time declared that the area should be safe for settlers moving west and he formed the North West Mounted Police (NWMP) in 1874. They marched west and established Fort Macleod, which is southern Alberta's oldest settlement.

The downtown district, on 24th Street between Second and Third Avenues, was declared Alberta's first provincial historical site on May 14, 1984. There are many wood frame buildings that date back to 1890s and some brick and sandstone ones from the early 1900s.
The Empress Theatre opened in 1912 and was used for vaudeville acts, minstrel shows, silent films, political rallies and talking films. It has been renovated, but the original pressed metal ceiling, double seats in every second row, and the old radiators remain. The Empress Theatre Society presents movies or live performances during the summer.
The present-day Fort Macleod is a reproduction, but some of the log buildings inside the Fort Museum are original and house numerous historical native and North West Mounted Police-Royal Canadian Mounted Police artifacts. A Musical Ride is staged four times a day during July and August. Young men and women dressed in replica North West Mounted Police uniforms present an exhibition of horsemanship and precision, similar to the world famous Musical Ride.

Harry `Kanouse' Taylor, a former whiskey fort owner, set up a hotel in Fort Macleod after the arrival of the NWMP-the original name of the RCMP. Due to the changing times and transient population, there had to be certain rules in his hotel. They were:
1. Guests will be provided with breakfast and dinner,
but must rustle their own lunch.
2. Spiked boots and spurs must be removed at night
before retiring.
3. Dogs are not allowed in bunks, but may sleep
underneath.
4. Towels are changed weekly; insect powder is for sale
at the bar.
5. Special rates for Gospel Grinders and the gambling
profession.
6. The bar will be open day and night. Every known fluid,
except water, for sale. No mixed drinks will be served
except in case of a death in the family. Only
registered guests allowed the privileges of sleeping
on the bar room floor.
7. No kicking regarding the food. Those who do not like
the provender will be put out. When guests find
themselves or their baggage thrown over the fence,
they may consider they have received notice to leave.
8. Baths furnished free down at the river, but bathers
must provide their own soap and towels.
9. Valuables will not be locked in the hotel safe, as
the hotel possesses no such ornament.
10. Guests are expected to rise at 6:00 a.m., as the
sheets are needed for tablecloths.
11. To attract the attention of waiters, shoot through
the door panel. Two shots for ice water, three for
a new deck of cards.
No Jawbone. In God We Trust; All Others Pay Cash.

My Favourite Month by Victoria Chatham

 

AVAILABLE HERE

Of all the months of the year, September is my favourite month.

That might be because it is my birthday month. It is also the beginning of autumn, my favourite season. This, according to the poet John Keats, is the ‘Season of Mists and Mellow Fruitfulness.’ I love watching the leaves on the trees change colour from the green of spring and summer to gold and bronze, russet and red.

Cool, crisp mornings can be followed by clear blue skies and balmy sunshine. There may be a spell of Indian Summer, that dry, warm period that can occur after the first frost and before the cooler temperatures of October set in.

Or the mornings might shimmer with a gossamer-light mist draping late-season blackberries on the
hedgerows or making spiders' webs glisten. French author Lea Malot says, ‘September was a thirty-days long goodbye to summer,' while Virgin Woolf wrote, ‘All the months are crude experiments out of which the perfect September is made.’ That seems about right to me.

But the weather, like fate, can be fickle. During my first visit to Canada over thirty years ago, I went out in jeans and a t-shirt on a beautiful sunny September morning. In the afternoon, the temperature plummeted, and a blizzard blew in. I had to buy a jacket and boots and found traffic had ground to a halt which necessitated taking shelter for the night in a hotel. These days I am prepared for any eventuality.

Now the evenings are beginning to draw in, it's time to cozy up to the fire and start thinking about the next novel.

​Victoria Chatham

  AT BOOKS WE LOVE

 ON FACEBOOK

 MY WEBSITE

 

 

 

 

 

 

A mystery writer walks into a US Park Service visitor center and asks, "Where would you dump a murder victim?"

 

Although that sounds like the opening line of a joke, that's exactly what I did in Tuzigoot National Monument. After his immediate shock, and a bit of background, the ranger recovered. Owen spent the next fifteen minutes marking up maps and explaining the topography of the park. In the end, he'd pointed out a dead-end trail, that would indeed be the perfect place to dispose of a murder victim.

I told this story to my cop consultant, who chastised me. She said questions like that could make people question my sanity or get me arrested while my background was investigated. I laughed that off. After posing the same question to a different US Park Service Ranger at Montezuma's Castle National Monument, I was a little concerned by the sheriff's department cruiser that followed me most of the way from Montezuma's Castle back to my motel.

That said, local knowledge adds reality to a book. I've walked the trails of Tuzigoot National Monument, and nearby Dead Horse Ranch State Park. We visited the wine tasting rooms in old Cottonwood, Arizona. Our lunch at the 45-70 Cafe provided visual detail unavailable on any website or brochure. Yes, I created a fictional dude ranch and riding school, but they fit in the area and the smell of leather in the tack shop is real.

Does an author need to walk the sites in his books? Not really. But when I experience the country, and visit with the people, I can provide my readers with an almost tactile experience as they follow Jill and Doug Fletcher through the book.

As for Owen, the ranger I floored with the question about dumping a murder victim: After my walk through the park, he hailed me outside the visitor center. He'd looked me up on Amazon.com while we'd been on the trail and said he'd ordered a copy of "Stolen Past" (Set in Walnut Canyon National Monument). He asked for the title and publication date of "Dead End Trail" and promised to pass my information along to his superintendent and the other rangers. I hope you, and Owen, enjoy the book as much as I enjoyed doing the research and writing the story.

Hovey, Dean - BWL Publishing Inc. (bookswelove.net)

A Visit to Flight 93 Memorial, by Diane Scott Lewis

 

"Rowena is a star. Bless Derec Pritchard who loves Rowena for who she is. Their chemistry is fabulous. Readers will love to read this alternative view of American history." 

~ InD'tale Magazine

Buy LINK

Rowena, a young woman, perhaps on the wrong side, who sees her world exploding into anarchy during the American Revolution.

A few days ago I took my childhood friend to visit the Flight 93 Memorial, another shocking strike involving our country. The setting is beautiful but the story tragic.

September 11, 2001, when four planes crashed into the Twin Towers in New York, the Pentagon in Virginia, and a field near Shanksville, PA. Flight 93, where the passengers knew they had to stop the terrorists who hijacked their plane by storming the cockpit. The terrorists crashed it into the bucolic field instead of completing their evil mission.

The passengers sacrificed their lives to stop the anarchy. How horrified and frightened they must have been.

We stared off over the field where the plane crashed, a boulder marks the crash site. The remnants of the passengers are still there, and I felt a surge of the emotional loss. My friend crossed herself and teared up.

A gate built of the Pennsylvania state tree, a hemlock, was created with forty ax slashes, each one representing the people who lost their lives.

The Tower of Voices was built for the wind to sing through with the laments of souls sacrificed. 

The site is well worth a visit to see what heroes did to save the further destruction of our country. A visit that will resonate with me for a long time.

Diane lives in Western Pennsylvania with her husband and one naughty dachshund.

To find out more about her and her books:  DianeScottLewis