Thursday, August 8, 2013

Guest Kat Flannery and Lakota Honor

Please welcome our guest!

While I was researching for LAKOTA HONOR I needed to know how a coal mine operated back in the 1800’s. I came across some pretty interesting stuff, and being an avid researcher with a love for any kind of history, I obtained more information than I needed. Here is what I learned.

The mines back in the 1800’s were not built like they are today. In fact most of the smaller mines back then didn’t have tunnels leading into the mine, but a shaft instead. The shaft was a hole blown into the mountain that went straight down. These were deep and dangerous pits that could be a challenge lowering men in and out of the mine. An ore bucket was crafted and used to haul men, equipment and coal in and out of the mine.  Large enough to carry more than one person, the bucket could conveniently carry two more miners if they stood on the rim and held onto the rope. With the hole in most shafts only a little wider than the ore bucket itself you could imagine how scary it would be riding down on one of them.

The picture with the miners in the bucket was taken in 1895 at the Hubert Mine in Nevadaville, Colorado


Bestselling Western Romance author, Kat Flannery takes you on an exciting journey with the release of her new Historical Paranormal Romance, Lakota Honor.


Fate has brought them together, but will a promise tear them apart?

In the small town of Willow Creek, Colorado, Nora Rushton spends most of her days locked up in her home with a father who resents her and fighting off unwanted marriage proposals from the wealthy Elwood Calhoun. Marked as a witch, Nora must hide her healing powers from those who wish to destroy all the witkowin—crazy women. What she doesn't know is that a bounty hunter is hot on her trail.
Lakota native Otakatay has an obligation to fulfill. He has been hired to kill the witkowin. In a time when race and difference are a threat and innocence holds no ground, courage, love and honor will bring Nora and Otakatay together as they fight for their freedom. Will the desire to fulfill his promise drive Otakatay to kill Nora? Or will the kindness he sees in her blue eyes push him to be the man he once was?


"Transport back to the old west with this paranormal historical, and its alpha hero, and a heroine hiding her secret talents."
—Shannon Donnelly, author of the Mackenzie Solomon Urban Fantasy series
"Ms. Flannery doesn’t shy away from writing gritty scenes or about unpleasant topics…That’s what good writing is all about—bringing out strong emotions in a reader."
—Peggy L. Henderson, bestselling author of the Yellowstone Romance Series
 "Those who relish the conflict of a heroic half-breed trapped between the white man's world and the Indian will fall in love with LAKOTA HONOR."
—Cindy Nord, author of No Greater Glory

 "LAKOTA HONOR weaves a fast paced and beautiful prose that lures you through every chapter and leaves you wanting more."
—Erika Knudsen, paranormal author of Monarchy of Blood

Colorado Mountains, 1880

 The blade slicing his throat made no sound, but the dead body hitting the ground did. With no time to stop, he hurried through the dark tunnel until he reached the ladder leading out of the shaft.

         He’d been two hundred feet below ground for ten days, with no food and little water. Weak and woozy, he stared up the ladder. He’d have to climb it and it wasn’t going to be easy. He wiped the bloody blade on his torn pants and placed it between his teeth. Scraped knuckles and unwashed hands gripped the wooden rung.

The earth swayed. He closed his eyes and forced the spinning in his head to cease. One thin bronzed leg lifted and came down wobbly. He waited until his leg stopped shaking before he climbed another rung. Each step caused pain, but was paired with determination. He made it to the top faster than he’d thought he would. The sky was black and the air was cool, but fresh. Thank goodness it was fresh.

 He took two long breaths before he emerged from the hole. The smell from below ground still lingered in his nostrils; unwashed bodies, feces and mangy rats. His stomach pitched. He tugged at the rope around his hands. There had been no time to chew the thick bands around his wrists when he’d planned his escape. It was better to run than crawl, and he chewed through the strips that bound his feet instead. There would be time to free his wrists later.

He pressed his body against the mountain and inched toward the shack. He frowned. A guard stood at the entrance to where they were. The blade from the knife pinched his lip, cutting the thin skin and he tasted blood. He needed to get in there. He needed to say goodbye. He needed to make a promise.

 The tower bell rang mercilessly. There was no time left. He pushed away from the rocky wall, dropped the knife from his mouth into his bound hands, aimed and threw it. The dagger dug into the man’s chest. He ran over, pulled the blade from the guard and quickly slid it across his throat. The guard bled out in seconds.

He tapped the barred window on the north side of the dilapidated shack. The time seemed to stretch. He glanced at the large house not fifty yards from where he stood. He would come back, and he would kill the bastard inside.

He tapped again, harder this time, and heard the weak steps of those like him shuffling from inside. The window slid open, and a small hand slipped out.

“Toksha ake—I shall see you again,” he whispered in Lakota.

The hand squeezed his once, twice and on the third time held tight before it let go and disappeared inside the room.

A tear slipped from his dark eyes, and his hand, still on the window sill, balled into a fist. He swallowed past the sob and felt the burn in his throat. His chest ached for what he was leaving behind. He would survive, and he would return.

Men shouted to his right, and he crouched down low. He took one last look around and fled into the cover of the forest.

Kat Flannery has loved writing ever since she was a girl. She is often seen jotting her ideas down in a little black book. When not writing, or researching, Kat enjoys snuggling on her couch with a hot chocolate and a great book.

Her first novel, CHASING CLOVERS became an Amazon’s bestseller in Historical and Western romance. This is Kat’s second book, and she is currently awaiting the release of her next, HAZARDOUS UNIONS in September 2013.

When not focusing on her creative passions, Kat is busy with her three boys and doting husband.
Kat’s website
Kat’s blog


  1. I don't think I would want to spend even a minute in a dark, deep mine. What a claustraphobic place to be.
    I like westerns and I like paranormals, so Lakota Honor sounds very intriguing to me.
    I wish you great success, Kat.

  2. Gut wrenching excerpt! This book is going on my TBR. Can't wait to find out what happens next.

  3. I agree with you, Sarah. In some mines the men were lowered more than 200 feet below the surface and then were not able to stand up, but had to crawl through the tunnels to the pocket they were digging in. These brave men, women and even children worked by candle light for most of the day but during break time all candles were extinguished to save the wax and they sat in complete darkness. I know I couldn't do it.

    Thank you, Lyn and Sarah for your kind comments. I hope you both enjoy LAKOTA HONOR. :)

  4. I could not work in a mine. I don't even like to venture into caves. Scary stuff!

  5. Loved the excerpt and your description of the mine shaft made me shudder for those poor souls that had to work the mines. Scary stuff. Thanks for sharing.

  6. Don't much like darkness either but I'm intrigued by this story, especially since we are off to the Colorado mountains in October. Wow, a best seller with your first book,Kat. How exciting!

    I think I have a book telling that horses and donkeys sometimes spent their whole lives down there, sob.

  7. Kat--your excerpt is excellent.

    In one of my earlier books, I researched mining in Texas--in Erath County. Those mine shafts were horizontal, so that men crawled in on the belly and chipped off coal and backed out with it. I enlarged the mine in my story, but only as much as I had to for my characters. Weird.

    My grandfather worked in the one in Erath county, and my sister has an old photo when he was a young man, sitting on an upturned bucket, black with coal dust, cracking and shelling pecans. Great photo.
    Thanks for being such a good guest.

  8. Thanks everyone for all the comments. I love to research and I love a happy ending, that's why I'm a historical romance writer. It's nice to be able to share what I've learned. Thanks again for having me on Sweethearts. :)


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