Wednesday, October 30, 2024

The Misunderstood Stagecoach by Eden Monroe

 


 Eden Monroe Author page

          The time is the 1870’s in the province of New Brunswick in beautiful Eastern Canada - the setting for the romantic suspense novel, Bound For Somewhere, Book One of The Kavenaghs series. It was also the era of stagecoach travel, one of the few methods of public transportation during the 1800’s.

But while travelling by stagecoach may seem like a fairy-tale chapter from the past, in reality there was nothing glamourous about it at all. It was simply a way to get from Point A to Point B. For one thing, passengers could count on getting coated with plenty of road dust during the summer and fall. Such was the fate for passengers Garrett Kavenagh and Eliza Williams as they made their way along the Westmorland Great Road from the shire town of Dorchester, a distance of a little less than thirty miles up to the bustling town of Moncton.

“She leaned back and looked out the side window. He briefly considered pulling down the leather curtain to spare them the billowing dust outside, but that would be at the expense of the scenery, such as it was. The roadsides were heavily forested so there wasn’t much to see, but at least there was daylight. The temperature had risen to an uncomfortable level inside the coach, so any attempt to block fresh air or hopefully a breeze would be most unwise.”

Another unpleasant circumstance that stagecoach travellers had to contend with were often deplorable road conditions (besides the dust). The roads in early New Brunswick were usually rudimentary at best (the bridges were even worse), although the main thoroughfares called the great roads were in better shape than many secondary roadways. Memories of such experiences are set out in W. Eugene Goodrich’s book The Stagecoach Era in Dorchester:

“… anyone who rode the sixteen to eighteen hours between Saint John and Dorchester in a … stagecoach must have been pretty sick of it by the end of the journey, even if it was in a Concord. In bad weather, and in general during the last years of the stagecoach era when the road had had time to deteriorate, it took considerably longer than that. An English lady touring North America left a harrowing account of a trip from Moncton to Saint John that took twenty hours—with stops only for meals and a change of horses. After an unusually soggy summer, the roads were so muddy that the passengers had to get out and walk up the hills because the horses balked at dragging the heavily laden coach through the mire. They also had to get out and walk across several bridges that were in such bad shape they were in danger of collapsing under additional load. It didn’t calm their nerves any when they were told, after crossing one particularly rickety specimen, that only a few weeks before, a coach and six horses had broken through its rotting planks—whether with injuries or fatalities was left unsaid.”

Also, in addition to the misfortune of being divested of your valuables by the occasional highwayman, there were plenty of accidents … and fatalities, including the horses. Long difficult journeys made for exhausted and all too frequently injured animals. Since horses were the lifeblood of the operation, their wellbeing was of utmost importance. Either a much-deserved rest or fresh replacements awaited at relay stations situated at about twenty mile intervals along the various routes throughout the province. (Some stagecoaches ran through the night).

Another popular misconception about these early stagecoach days has to do with the speed at which they travelled – which of course depended on the pace the horses were able to maintain. This particular misunderstanding exists because of television and the movies where stagecoach horses can be seen running for miles on end at top speed without seeming to tire. In reality. a horse can only run in full flight (a gallop) for about a mile and a half (unless gait varies with cantering and trotting) before becoming fatigued. Actual stagecoach horses usually travelled at a full trot (on good roads), averaging about six miles (9.65 kilometres) per hour, and considering the poor road conditions they were forced to navigate in some instances, they certainly earned their rest.

Also called post houses where the stagecoach and horses were serviced and passengers refreshed, these facilities were all too often found to be wanting. For the most part they were taverns, and intoxicating spirits typically flowed freely. Although there were indeed reputable establishments in use for this purpose, most accommodations were spartan at best. Such was the case at Todd’s Place, a stop along the line in Queens County, New Brunswick according to backyardhistory.ca:

“In her book ‘A Time There Was,’ Marion Gilcrest Reicker describes what was likely a nicer than average tavern called Todd’s Place, in Mill Cove on Lake Washademoak. Curiously, while the stable was by the road, the tavern itself was on the opposite side of the lake from the road, meaning guests had to be paddled across. Inside Todd’s Place, travelers would all eat together in a big common room, where they all sat at a single large table on long benches. Wet clothes were hung on a line over the large fireplace to dry. At night the travelers would all sleep in one big bunk room at the back of the tavern. Often there were more travelers than beds, and so strangers would sleep together in the same bed until there was physically no space left. Those not lucky enough to fit into the beds would sleep wrapped in blankets on the benches in the common room.”

Of course not many women travelled alone during those times, but those who did brave such an undertaking had better be able to hold their own in what was a male-dominated transportation industry. Although physically demanding in any number of ways, it might have been the question of proper accommodations during overnight stops that a woman on her own would have found most challenging.

The coaches themselves left much to be desired in terms of comfort, compared to the amenities we’ve become accustomed to today. Nevertheless efforts were made in that regard during those early times, including leather strap suspension designed to act as springs. These straps also helped take stress off the horses or (or in some cases mules). And if passengers suffered from motion sickness, and many did just like today, the relentless “pitching, swaying and tossing” stagecoach would be a hard way to go. Coaches came in various models, and depending on its size were pulled by anywhere from two to six horses. There was usually room for nine (very cramped) passengers inside the larger coaches, and they often had to hold their luggage on their lap. If business was brisk, there was room for another eight or nine passengers on the roof of the stagecoach.

Stagecoaches in New Brunswick serviced the province’s population by way of several routes throughout its 73, 440 square kilometres (28,354 square miles), mail delivery (at designated stops) being one of the key components of stage line operations. After freeze-up, “the rivers became ideal sleigh roads” to provide stage service. The advent of rail beginning in the mid to late 1800’s made for a quicker, cleaner, more comfortable means of travel although early trains, as set out in The Stagecoach Era in Dorchester “had an appalling accident rate” compared to stagecoaches.

But perhaps the greatest misunderstanding of all about stagecoach travel in general, is that of its origin. As many may mistakenly assume, stagecoaches are not a product of the old west.

“Stagecoaches are commonly imagined thundering across the plains of the Old West with bands of robbers or hostile Indians in hot pursuit, and indeed they sometimes did that. But they were equally common in eastern North America many decades before they appeared in the American West,” says W. Eugene Goodrich in his aforementioned book. “The first stagecoach lines were developed in Europe and were already a familiar sight in the time of Shakespeare.”

Tuesday, October 29, 2024

Loup-Garou

 



Amazon

Smashwords

Kobo

Barnes & Noble

Disappointed in love, weary of war, Goran von Hagen retreats to his idyllic alpine estate. He does not know the ancient secret of the looming mountain--or that it will change his life forever.

I first met this Being a very long time ago, back in my ninth or tenth year when our family was visiting Bermuda.  I was already in awe of this tropical place, because it was much warmer than our home during early April, which was, at that time, in upstate New York.

 Back in the 1950's  in NY, there was still plenty of snow on the ground, and it was still darn cold.  Bermuda was warm enough that you could swim, although the Atlantic was still cold, the sunlit coves and that crumbly brown and pink coral sand of the beaches was absolutely beautiful. I had that day just learned about the Moray eels who hung out in the coral outcrops in our swimming place and had been suitably alarmed. You could even see them in the clear water if you swam too close, peeking out of their lairs with gaping mouths filled with pointy teeth.


  So my nerves were already jangled when later a young Bermudian employed by the hotel, in the course of showing us where we were allowed to play, began telling a gang of us stories about Loup-Garou. As luck would have it, this was the night of the full moon. Soon, the worldly kids from NYC began to recount the plots of old horror movies, to show that although this Loup-Garou was a new monster to them, they already knew about lots of other creepy stuff. My imagination, never under control, went wild. 


In my little single room at the hotel that night, I had a lovely view of the ocean and the full moon shining on the water. As you can imagine, I didn't sleep much.

Then, a few years later, staying in Grenada for two months in a friendly little local hotel, I became good friends with the children of the owner. The owner's wife basically ran the place, cooking and riding herd on her staff and shopping, while her husband swanned about in the evenings, preparing drinks and playing host to the guests. He also kept the books and wrote letters to potential customers to confirm reservations. I remember peeking into his sanctum and seeing stacks of those blue Airmail letter forms atop his big desk. 

The kids were close to my age. The oldest was 15, and working hard to prepare for O Level exams. I played mostly with the second boy, Richard, and his younger sister, Lynette, who had been born just a year after me. They tried to scare me with Loup- Garou, but I scored points when I told them I had already been initiated into The Lore. They had a lot more to say on scary subjects, however, and started to explain zombies, of whom I hadn't yet heard. To their great satisfaction, zombies got under my white skin pretty thoroughly.  :)

The center of all things terrifying, these young West Indians told me, was Haiti. (Poor Haitians! Some things never change, only it's more terrible on that tragic island now than we "First World" people can begin to imagine, not just fantasy.)

This leads me to a book I just finished, which, sadly, has no zombies or werewolves, but is historical, about the early French colonists of Quebec. I was amused to discover, researching here and there, that the French of that province had brought their Loup-Garou with them, and so his "range" was not just limited to France and the West Indies. He also lived in the snowy North Country!

The French, apparently, had had "an epidemic" of werewolves since the 1400's. Of course, people suspected of having the affliction were regularly burned, hanged and so on. In Quebec, there were reports of such beasts from the earliest settlers. 

In 1767, the Gazette de Quebec reported just such a pernicious beast. After setting dogs on it, and much gunfire, the beast retreated. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief, but, like any good monster, one major attempt at extinguishing it wasn't sufficient. The second round of massed gunfire and ferocious dogs seems to have finally done for it, because, after that, although many have searched the remaining documents, we hear no more about it. No bullet-riddled human corpse left behind, not even a humongous dead wolf--nothing! 

Imagine that.   ;) 



~Juliet Waldron

Season's Greetings!

 



Monday, October 28, 2024

Halloween, All Hallows' Eve, and Trick-or-Treaters By Connie Vines #Halloween #ZombieRomCom


 Halloween is almost upon us...Black Cats,
Witches Hats, Goblins, Scary Bats, and Pumpkins are all in a row!

I was scribbling a flash fiction story that has turned into a  YA anthology...


This is why I'm venturing into my favorite Halloween Short Captions.

Do I hear a symphony of groans?

Halloween, for me, is harmless fun. Why? Because I have nightmares like a three-year-old. Bambi died off-screen in a cartoon,
I'm still frightened of the dancing mops in Fantasia and the talking trees in The Wizard of Oz (why the flying monkeys don't disturb me, I do not know).

In other words, I'm a sissy when it comes to Halloween.
My heroine in Here Today, Zombie Tomorrow is a vegan who eats chicken upon becoming a zombie.

No blood and gore for me.

No screaming, please!

And no jumping from behind the shrubby or out of a tree...because...well, just because.

Please comment with your favorite :) Halloween Caption.
Or provide one of your own!


Ghouls just wanna have fun!

Don't worry, worry, we're friendly ghosts.

Howl about them candied apples?

Everything's better with a bit of magic.

Bad to the bone.

Bugs and kisses.

He's trapped in my web.

You're a Zombabe.

My favorite: "Each year, the Great Pumpkin rises out of the pumpkin patch that he thinks is the most sincere."  -- It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.

If Supernatural RomCom is your Halloween treat idea, consider adding  "Here Today, Zombie Tomorrow" to your favorite eBook Reader! 















Wishing You Halloween a bucket filled Treats and
and an eReader Stuffed with Spookie Reads,

Connie Vines












Sunday, October 27, 2024

WHY DO I READ POPULAR FICTION? ESCAPISM! – by Vijaya Schartz

FIND THIS BOOK AT BWL HERE

New Release: ANGEL REVENGE, Blue Phantom Book 3 (standalone) - by Vijaya Schartz

Find this and more of my books on my BWL page HERE or at amazon B&N - Smashwords - Kobo 

amazon B&N - Smashwords - Kobo 


An unruly Valkyrie on a flying tiger, a stern angel in love with the rules, and evil pounding at the gate… What could go wrong?

Riddled with survivor’s guilt after Ragnarök, Valka wanders the universe as a bounty hunter. But when hired by angels to recruit warriors for the final battle against evil, she welcomes a chance at redemption.

General Konrad Lagarde, First Mate of the angel ship Blue Phantom, strongly rejects Valka’s methods. A stickler for discipline, he also considers this fascinating woman hazardous to his sanity, as she could make him forget all the rules.

Evil from another universe has infiltrated a secret society of former dictators hungry for power. Having massacred all the angels in his former world, the evil one wants to do the same here. The angels of this universe face their greatest challenge yet… destroy the evil one and avenge their fallen brethren… or the bringer of darkness will enslave us all.

WHY DO I WRITE AND READ POPULAR FICTION?

I always resented the authors who killed the protagonists at the end, after you invest your emotions in liking them. I usually never read another book from such authors, and I stay away from tragic endings. To this day, I cannot watch Titanic to the end although it is a true story, or suffer through the last episode of Castle. And I’m glad Shogun found a happier alternate ending in the most recent series.

If I want to wallow in sadness, I only have to watch the news. Life is difficult enough, complicated enough, hard enough, sad enough.

I read popular fiction to get uplifted, to forget about my problems, be transported to another world, another time, a place where it is safe to be scared and challenged, where justice will prevail… because I trust the author that the heroes will triumph and all will be well at the end.

It’s a secret pact between the author and the reader. No matter how bad it gets for the protagonist, even if a few secondary characters don’t make it, the hero or heroine will find a happy conclusion.

So, if I challenge my characters, if I make them suffer, be assured that it will all be worth it at the end. They will have matured, widened their understanding of life, and overcome their barriers to experience the rewards they deserve.

You can safely read my book, knowing that even if you cry a little, all will be okay at the end. 




amazon B&N - Smashwords - Kobo 


amazon B&N - Smashwords - Kobo 

Happy Reading

Vijaya Schartz, award-winning author
Strong Heroines, Brave Heroes, cats
http://www.vijayaschartz.com
amazon B&N - Smashwords - Kobo FB 

Saturday, October 26, 2024

The Painful Reality of Hitting a Creative Wall by Jay Lang

 


https://bookswelove.net/lang-jay/

The Painful Reality of Hitting a Creative Wall

Hey there, fellow Authors! I hope you’re all doing great! I have a quick question for you.  Have you ever been sitting there, fingers poised over the keyboard, staring at a blank screen like it’s the most intimidating thing in the world. Writer’s block, am I right? It happens to the best of us, and trust me, you’re not alone. But don’t worry! I’ve got a few tips to help you break through that wall and get those creative juices flowing again.

First things first, take a breather. Seriously, sometimes stepping away for a bit can do wonders. Go for a walk, grab a coffee, or just chill out with some music. Let your mind wander. Often, inspiration hits when you’re not actively searching for it. You might find a spark just by observing the world around you.

Another great trick is to switch up your writing environment. If you always write at your desk, try heading to a café, a park, or even a cozy corner of your home. A new setting can offer fresh perspectives and ideas. Plus, a change of scenery might just shake loose that stubborn block.

Now, if you’re still stuck, try free writing. Set a timer for 10 minutes and just write whatever comes to mind—no edits, no judgments. It doesn’t even have to relate to your current project. Sometimes, the act of writing without restrictions can lead you right back to your story or spark new ideas.

You might also want to revisit your favorite books or shows for inspiration. What do you love about them? How do they handle similar themes or characters? Sometimes, diving into someone else’s world can ignite your own creativity.

Another approach is to talk it out, drive your spouse crazy! I do! Sometimes, just voicing what’s blocking you can help clarify your thoughts. Plus, they might have some killer ideas to help you push through, (This tip hasn’t worked for me yet.)

Finally, remember to be kind to yourself. Writer’s block is part of the creative process. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad writer; it just means you’re human. Give yourself permission to take your time. Sometimes, the best stories take a little longer to unfold.

So, next time you hit that block, try one of these tips, and remember: every writer faces this at some point. You’ve got this! Keep writing, and soon enough, that blank page will be filled with your amazing words.

 

Jay Lang

Popular Posts

Books We Love Insider Blog

Blog Archive