Each of the Canadian Historical Brides novels features a historical event in one of the ten provinces and three territories of Canada. The books, based on actual historical times, combine fact and fiction to show how the brides and grooms, all from diverse backgrounds, join in marriage to create new lives and build a great country.
Thursday, September 1, 2016
Canadian Historical Brides - the Series that celebrates 150 years of Canadian History - Book 1 now in Pre-release
Each of the Canadian Historical Brides novels features a historical event in one of the ten provinces and three territories of Canada. The books, based on actual historical times, combine fact and fiction to show how the brides and grooms, all from diverse backgrounds, join in marriage to create new lives and build a great country.
Wednesday, August 31, 2016
Before dying by Eleanor Stem
White Light of Death |
Once I
worked in the upstairs offices of a bank, located in the Dallas area. A
coworker was an older man who never married. He lived with his sisters and took
care of his mother. We will call him Lewis.
One day,
Lewis sat down on the chair next to my desk. He asked, “Do you believe in life
after death?”
Being quite
young, I hadn’t thought too much about it. I shrugged and said, “I guess. Why
do you ask?”
Then he
proceeded to tell me of his mother’s last day on this earth.
She had been
on her deathbed. Lewis’ father was already gone. His parents were young during
the Prohibition era and they loved to dance. As Lewis put it, “Every Saturday
night, they’d go out and shake a leg.”
He sat on a
chair by his mother’s bed. All of sudden, she raised her arms. “You come here
and let me help you.”
She faced
the other side of the bed and proceeded to attend to someone or something.
Lewis asked, “What are you doing, Mama? Who do you see?”
“Oh, I’m
just fixin’ this little boy’s collar. He’s dressed like they did at the turn of
the century. One side of his collar's tucked under his coat.” She patted what would have been
the little boy. “There now, fixed.”
She lay back
and closed her eyes. Lewis’ mind wandered, thinking of his youth and his
parents.
Mama said, “Do
you think they’re in heaven?”
Lewis jerked
awake. He must have drifted off. “Who Mama? Who do you see?”
“There, at
the end of the bed. The Jacksons are here.”
They were
the couple Lewis’ mama and daddy danced with on Saturday nights. Even though it
was Prohibition, they’d go honky-tonkin’, kick their feet and swing around.
Lewis couldn’t
see who mama saw, but he said, “I’m sure they are. They were good people.”
He no longer
allowed his mind to wander, to drift off to sleep. His mama was having
hallucinations. As the clock by her bed ticked away the afternoon, a little
girl dressed in frills came to her bedside, neighbors from her past, church
matrons and friends who had died in France during WW1.
“There are so
many crowdin’ in, Lewis. I’m afraid they’ll move the bed.”
Lewis couldn’t
see anyone or anything. All he saw was her lace covered chest-of-drawers. The lamp on
her bedside table, the clock that ticked away the day.
“They want
me to come with them,” she sighed heavily, “and I am tired.” Her voice
weakened. “So very tired.”
Later that afternoon, Lewis’ mother passed away.
* * *
I was with
my dad when he died. We were in a curtained room in the ER. An oxygen mask
covered his face. I stood beside the gurney, my husband off to the side. My dad
kept looking at where my husband stood. He pointed over and over, his glassy eyes wide. My
husband looked where he pointed but we didn't see anything.
My dad died
a few minutes later.
After the hospital’s
minister came and gave us condolences, the ER doctor and nurse, who had attended my
dad, came in. I asked, “Do you ever see the spirits of those who die?”
Without
hesitation, the doctor nodded. “Yes.”
With a great
deal of hesitation, the nurse finally nodded and said, “Yes, I have, too.”
~*~*~*~*~
Labels:
Life after death,
Spiritual,
Strange phenomenon
Tuesday, August 30, 2016
"August...die she must"
Credit:DavidKinghamPhotography
|
As summer
comes to an end here in the northeastern U.S., I usually feel a sense of
sadness come over me. I love summer and hate to see it go. Even this record-setting heat and
humidity we’ve been experiencing for the past few weeks hasn’t put a damper on the season for me. We’ve been
blessed with fresh tomatoes aplenty (three varieties), peppers, zucchinis
(green and golden) and assorted herbs. And I love going shoeless in the yard :-)
The pool has been sparkling clear for my
newly retired husband and Evie, our mutant springer spaniel (I don’t swim,
though; don’t ask why). It’s astounding to realize that it will soon be Labor
Day and schools have already reopened here. The season I wait for through the
endless New England winters (which usually extend into spring) is over seemingly
before it even started.
One reason I’m
feeling a bit blue is that for the umpteenth year in a row, I was unable to
view the Perseid meteor showers. After a spectacular show of fireflies, the
Perseid event is like the finale of a Fourth of July fireworks display. But for
any number of reasons—cloudy skies for the most part, and the light pollution one
experiences living close to cities—they came and went without much ado. Truly
a pity since, according to astronomical forecasts, this year’s event was
supposed to have been especially impressive, a “once in a decade outburst” that
was seen in the southern hemisphere as well. (Read more about the Peseids here.)
I initially
became excited over this phenomenon the summer I graduated
from high school
(ancient history by now), and I remember the awe and excitement of seeing them
for the first time, as if I’d made some sort of unique discovery. It was a cool, mid-August
night and my childhood pal, my beloved mutt Shadow, and I were sitting on one
of the huge boulders at the foot of the driveway at my parents’ home in North
Stamford (no light pollution there amid the trees far from city lights). We
stretched out on the rock, soaking up the last warmth of the day, me on my
back, Shadow in his sphinx-like doggy pose, and gazed up at the clear, starry
sky. The sight was unexpected, with one “shooting star” after another, sometimes
multiple streaking lights at once. Over the next few nights, Shadow and I made
a point to return to our rock. On one night, I stopped counting after more than a hundred
in less than an hour.
Evie, aka Dopus Dogimus, in the pool |
When my kids
were small, I would rouse them—and my husband—from their beds at around midnight when the
meteor showers were at their height. We'd lie on chaise lounges or beach blankets
in the back yard and stare up at the sky and wait. But here in Central Connecticut, the sky was never quite
as bright or as clear as it was in those earlier years. After much mumbling and
grumbling on the part of my progeny and hubby—they were bored or tired, or both—we’d call
it quits, usually without seeing a single one.
And so it’s
been for the last 25-plus years. On an occasional August night, I’ve seen one
or two, at most a handful, but in my back yard I have yet to see the Perseid
the way I remember during that magical night when I was eighteen. (Luckily, my
life hasn’t been completely bereft, as they are particularly exquisite over the
Great Paconic Bay on the East End of Long Island, where my husband grew up, or along the Connecticut River
east of here.)
I’ve also
found a place for the meteor showers of August in my writing. Along with
fireflies, which I’ve used in two books, the Perseids make an appearance in Courting the Devil, book two of “The
Serpent’s Tooth” historical series, in which my heroine, Anne, experiences
their awe and wonder in much the same way I did, way back when, among the trees
with my old dog Shadow.
~*~
Kathy
Fischer Brown is a BWL author of historical novels, Winter Fire, Lord Esterleigh's Daughter, Courting the Devil, The Partisan's Wife, and The Return of Tachlanad, her latest release, an
epic fantasy adventure for young adult and adult readers. Check out her The Books We Love Author
page or visit her website. All of
Kathy’s books are available in e-book and in paperback from Amazon.
Monday, August 29, 2016
Pantser Confessions
I never thought I could get myself into such a tangle in the
course of writing a plain, old-fashioned traditional romance. This book has taken a
lot longer than I'd projected, but I think I've finally reached “The End.” After the editor gets it, there may yet prove to be a few slips
between the cup and the lip, but that's the way it's been ever since I started this
story, a sequel to Hand-Me-Down Bride, which is a story about a German mail order bride, brought to Pennsylvania to marry a wealthy older man.
Another book, set in Pennsylvania farm country, in the home of the now happily married older sister, in the time just after the Civil War, looked, at first glance, to be a snap. A nice title, Butterfly Bride, jumped into my head, instead of waiting until the last second to put in an appearance, like so many titles do.
As you may know, in the writing world, I’m (more or less) a "pantser". This used to feel easy-peasey, but in this
case, it turned out to be a case of "not so much". There was
a sketchy outline at first but the characters spent a lot of time avoiding me, going into hiding
after I wrote the first four chapters. It’s taken a long time to get to know anything about them. And I know I’ve blamed the heroine, Miss Elfrieda Neiman, casually called “Elfie.” She’s very pretty and rather immature, this Butterfly Bride. She's not the only one who has fluttered around, though, refusing to follow my nice neat outline, not by a long chalk.
To be fair to my girl, Elfie has three suitors, all quite
different, and each one offering things/experiences which are attractive. Of course, all of them are decidedly good looking.
Bachelor #1 is filthy rich--or at least, lives as if he is. He's the heir-apparent sort of prospect a pretty lady from a down-on-their luck family is supposed to jump at. Bachelor #2 is a muscular smith/farrier, a veteran and proud owner of a winning trotting horse, whose large family works the timber on the nearby ridge. Bachelor #3 is a thoughtful, musical, educated man of the cloth, who lost a leg and nearly died fighting at the Battle of Spotsylvania.
Bachelor #1 is filthy rich--or at least, lives as if he is. He's the heir-apparent sort of prospect a pretty lady from a down-on-their luck family is supposed to jump at. Bachelor #2 is a muscular smith/farrier, a veteran and proud owner of a winning trotting horse, whose large family works the timber on the nearby ridge. Bachelor #3 is a thoughtful, musical, educated man of the cloth, who lost a leg and nearly died fighting at the Battle of Spotsylvania.
All
three of these characters, as soon as I began to imagine them beyond their cardboard cutouts, revealed unexplored depths as well as some serious demons. I was forced to confront the fact that it takes more exposition to establish characters who were so determined to pop into three dimensions.
As a result, what should have been a nice little bare-bones
sequel got complicated. I’ve been enduring months of those writer’s nights
where you go to bed and lie half-awake, running scenes in your head—some of which,
by the light of day, turn out not to be so great. And that’s a pain in the you-know-what, because, despite remaining
sleepless until 3 a.m., the nagging problem/plot
point remains without a solution.
What are they saying? Where are they now? If it’s a party—and with pretty gad-about Elfie and her social young friends, it often seemed to be. Who
else is there in the crowd scene that these willful characters have dragged me into? Are they dancing, eating, or just
hanging out? And, more to the point, what are they thinking?
Finally, however, after a final week long marathon of 10 hour days and "No More waffling, Mrs. Waldron--FINISH THE STORY", my young heroine started to grow up a tad and at last settled upon Mr. Right. She just needed a few more jolts, some of those "learning experiences" which we all dread so much, to discover the truth of what had always been right there, inside her heart.
Labels:
Butterfly Bride,
Civil War,
Hand-me-Down Bride,
Historical romance,
Juliet Waldron,
Pantsers,
series romance,
writing life
I am in the grandma zone, a long time writer and poet, posting at Crone Henge and BWL these days just because. Wish I could travel, and last year I was lucky enough to get back to the UK, specifically to Avebury to reconnect with the ancient temple. Hiking, camping, lover of solitude, cats, moons and gardens.
Sunday, August 28, 2016
Final Weekly Winner ~ Get Fired Up For Summer Contest
Bob, please email bookswelove@telus.net
to claim your prize.
Congratulations!
Books We Love
Contest ends this week! Winner announced in September 1st newsletter. Last chance to enter below.
Get Fired Up For Summer with
Books We Love!
How an Author Gets her Kicks on “Route 66” by Connie Vines
Having
lived a great deal of my adult life in the Inland Empire, were the
famous Route
66 runs right through my backyard. One lazy Saturday morning I decided to set
out and see what I could find on a brief stint down the historic road from Rancho
Cucamonga to San Bernardino (I’ll save the drive to Santa Monica for a future
post). The people I met and the stories I heard in these short four hours of my
morning about the people and families that have built their lives on this road,
are stories I’d like to share with you. While so much of the history has died
in the commercialization of the area (I can’t help but think about the movie “Cars”)
here are the spotlights that I saw from the stretch of Route 66 that starts in Rancho
Cucamonga, California, USA and ends at the city of San Bernardino.
Everyone
one recognizes The McDonald restaurant logo, but did you know that there is a museum,
too?
In
1940, Dick and Mac McDonald opened McDonald’s Barbecue Restaurant in San
Bernardino, California, at 14th st. and E st. They had a staff of 20 carhops
and a 25 item menu that included barbecue ribs, beef, and pork sandwiches. They
soon became the #1 teen hangout in the San Bernardino.
In
October of 1948, the brothers took the plunge (against the advice of all their
customers) and closed their successful restaurant, terminated all their
carhops, reduced their menu to cheeseburgers, hamburgers, milkshakes, and
fountain sodas, and reorganized their kitchen in order to specialize in speed
of service, simplicity of menu, and low prices. Their revolutionary thinking
forever changed the restaurant industry.
This
1,718 seat auditorium was built in 1928 and is a perfect example of the
architecture and style of the time. It is a beautiful building, even better
when it’s lit up at night, that has been renovated on the inside to become a
modern theater that is still in use today. Link to the events.
The
approach of the mighty sprawl of metropolitan L.A. doesn't mean the ride's
over. Just past San Bernardino, as the cityscape takes over, this kid-friendly
motel is the best of the three remaining "wigwam" motels that
appeared in the '30s, '40s, and '50s. And even if you ignore their infamous
sign ("Do it in a teepee"), it's worth stopping for a night. Each
concrete room is well kept up and faces a palm-dotted lawn with a pool. The
drive continues to the Wigwam
Motel, which is one of the most well know landmarks on this part of Route
66.
While
I do not plan on every bit of research I found on my adventure, I can capture
the ‘flavor’ of the experience.
Historical, Contemporary, YA cookbook?
An author is always game for a new writing adventure.
Happy
Reading,
Connie
Shopping for one of my books? here is the purchase link!
Labels:
# Books We Love Blog,
#Adventure,
#Brede,
#ConnieVines,
#cowboys,
#Lynx,
#route 66 #Rodeo Romance,
BWL
Location:
CA-66, California, USA
Connie Vines is married with two grown sons. When Connie isn't writing. . .
Saturday, August 27, 2016
Series: What to write next? - by author Vijaya Schartz
The Curse of the Lost Isle,
a romantic medieval fantasy series, was twenty years in the making and
is coming to a close. Of course, I wrote many other novels for various
publishers in multiple genres during that time, since that series did
not find a publisher right away, and required a great amount of
historical research. As I am writing the last novel, Book eight, Angel
of Lusignan, scheduled for release around the holidays, I realize with
nostalgia that it has been a long labor of love. I’m going to miss
living in that world.
As to what comes next, I’m still debating. I like writing in different genres and I have a habit of mixing them, which creates marketing nightmares for my publishers. But I like my stories to be original, different and unique. I write what I would want to read. In the Curse of the Lost Isle (from BWL), featuring a family of immortal ladies with Fae gifts, I mixed authentic legends with known history and romance. In the Ancient Enemy series, I mixed science fiction with romance, and several of my characters have paranormal abilities… sometimes created through technology.
As to what comes next, I’m still debating. I like writing in different genres and I have a habit of mixing them, which creates marketing nightmares for my publishers. But I like my stories to be original, different and unique. I write what I would want to read. In the Curse of the Lost Isle (from BWL), featuring a family of immortal ladies with Fae gifts, I mixed authentic legends with known history and romance. In the Ancient Enemy series, I mixed science fiction with romance, and several of my characters have paranormal abilities… sometimes created through technology.
I
also wrote a few contemporary romances, but always with a twist, like
reincarnation, a mystery, or a thriller element. Whether writing
about the past, the present, or the future, my main constants are
action, adventure, and romance. I also have a predilection for cats, as
they pop up as secondary characters almost everywhere (except in
medieval times, but I do have a major dog character in Damsel of the
Hawk).
I would also like my next project to be a series. Like a reader, after I fall in love with a created world, I enjoy spending time in it. But I may choose to make these series shorter. Maybe three or four books, not six or eight like in my two latest series. It’s difficult to promote Book seven or eight to new readers who haven’t read any of the other books… even if it’s a standalone.
Standalone
is another requisite of mine. I like my series to be readable out of
order, so each book should be a complete story as much as possible. As a
reader, I hate cliffhanger endings and would never do that to my
readers. I had to cut longer books into two parts before, not by choice,
and although I still gave the first book a satisfying ending, I
couldn’t tie up all the loose ends or resolve all the conflicts at the
end, since that happened in the second book. It deeply bothered me. From
the reviews, I know it bothered a few of my readers as well.
Now, for the time and place: Medieval? Futuristic? Contemporary? Post apocalyptic? On a space station? On an alien planet? In an alternate universe? I have used all of these in the past. Is there any other option?
As for the characters, I have a predilection for strong, kick-butt heroines. I also really enjoyed writing immortals. I once flirted with the idea of writing a series featuring angels, and I am still considering it. They could be fallen angels seeking redemption, or guardians of the human kind. Or, they could be aliens, alien/human hybrids, or AI (artificial intelligence).
So, my new writing project should definitely be a series with strong heroines, romance, action, adventure, and cats (you can never have too many of those). Each novel should be a complete story, and the series should lend itself to a different hero and heroine for each story. So, the constant would be the world in which the characters evolve.
Now, for the time and place: Medieval? Futuristic? Contemporary? Post apocalyptic? On a space station? On an alien planet? In an alternate universe? I have used all of these in the past. Is there any other option?
As for the characters, I have a predilection for strong, kick-butt heroines. I also really enjoyed writing immortals. I once flirted with the idea of writing a series featuring angels, and I am still considering it. They could be fallen angels seeking redemption, or guardians of the human kind. Or, they could be aliens, alien/human hybrids, or AI (artificial intelligence).
So, my new writing project should definitely be a series with strong heroines, romance, action, adventure, and cats (you can never have too many of those). Each novel should be a complete story, and the series should lend itself to a different hero and heroine for each story. So, the constant would be the world in which the characters evolve.
In
other words, writing a series revolves around creating a world in which
strong, captivating characters can fight for what is just and good, and
in the process, find their happily ever after. Writing this post helped
me order my thoughts. Starting next year, look for the start of a new
sci-fi romance series involving strong kick-butt heroines and gorgeous
aliens with angel power. Now, back to finishing the Curse of the Lost
Isle medieval series.
Blasters, Swords, Romance with a Kick
http://www.vijayaschartz.com
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