The Merrie Monarch ~Tanya Hanson

Last spring, The Wild Rose Press asked me to participate in a multi-author Christmas series based on

The Twelve Days of Christmas. I got Four Calling Birds. Happens I was in Oahu relaxing at my sis’s when I got The Inspiration for The Christmas Room.

I’d set my western historical holiday romance right there! In Honolulu.

What? How was that gonna work?

Despite Hawaii’s great “paniolo” (cowboy and ranching) culture, I went with an American cowboy, from the Lake Tahoe area. Rooney Lind sails the Pacific on a quest to fulfill a deathbed promise. He’s vowed to find the woman his late cousin wronged long ago in California. Well, of course heroine Martita Akala turns out to be who Rooney’s own heart has been looking for all along.

Anyway, on our trip, we visited the Iolani Palace, built by King David Kalakaua in 1883. It’s only royal palace on American soil.

Although King Kalakaua was courtly in demeanor and fashionable in European styles, he returned to the Hawaiian peoples many of the cultural practices forcibly quashed by American missionaries, such as hula, the Hawaiian language, and luau. (Amazingly, lei-making had never been eliminated.)

Highly-educated and modern thinking, he installed flush plumbing and electric lighting in his palace three years before the White House. And he made sure Honolulu had street lights. 

These facts helped me set the story in December 1890.

Sadly, Kalakaua died just a month later.

You may have heard of the great Kamehameha line of Hawaiian royalty. Well, it had died out, but David was descended from favored court supporters. Another plus...his mother’s ancestors included great Kona chieftains. After serving in King Kamehamea 1V’s legislature for 13 years, Kalakaua won the election over dowager queen Emma in 1874.

He is the first reigning monarch ever to visit the United States. His 1881 world tour saw him meet many heads of state. In 1887, he sent both his sister and his wife, Queen Kapiolani, to London as his representatives at Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee.

While the sugar business in Hawaii flourished, unfortunately so did corruption. British and American business interests wanted more control, and Kalakaua was forced from power in 1887. He remained nothing but a figurehead after forcibly signing “The Bayonet Constitution.”

He and Kapiolani did not have children, so he named his sister Lili ‘uokalani as his heir and regent. (Her story is powerful and tragic. I’ll tell about her, and more about the Iolani Palace, next time.)

photo by D. Ramey Logan 2011. Used with permission

After a devastating legislative session in 1890, King David Kalakaua sailed to San Francisco to regain his health and spirit. However, he died there, on January 1891, ironically at the Palace Hotel. The last reigning king of Hawaii, today he is feted as The Merrie Monarch.

Honestly, the history of the kingdom of Hawaii is as tragic as the mainland's treatment of our First Nations. 

Excerpt:

“Oh, so cold,” he moaned now. “Blizzard. Oh, the wind So cold...”

“No blizzard. Nothing but the tradewinds, cowboy.” She touched his cheek, reckoning him in shock. Worry pounded through her veins. She could cook him a good meal, but she wasn’t a nurse. She relaxed a little. Nalani would know. Squeezing water from a rag in a nearby bowl, Martita dabbed his cheeks with the cool cloth.

“Cowboy?” Like her gesture was an electric shock, he tossed her hands away. His lids popped open. Staring at her--eyes dark blue as a midnight without stars. “What happened? Where am I?”

“You had... an accident.” She shuddered, recalled his arm hanging from its socket. Like an undone button at the end of a long thread.

“Eh?”

“You...you got knocked from your horse in the surf,” she told him. “Getting your beeves to the steamer.” Honolulu had no deep water wharf. Paniolo had to tie cows by the head to the gunwales of small longboats and drag them through the water to load them to larger boats and steam ships.

Confusion wrinkled his brow. “What?

“Your arm got caught in the reins.” She wiped his face gently. “The waves knocked you both about pretty hard. But Doc Howe says he got your arm set back into your shoulder socket correctly."

“Where...where am I?”

“My boarding house. Honolulu,” she added, just in case. “You’ll be sore for a while, and you need rest and quiet. Your foreman paid my rate to have you rest here a few days.”

“A few days?” He paled, groaned, struggled to sit. “I got a job. I got things to do.”

http://tinyurl.com/n2qdlne

www.tanyahanson.com

Cowboys and Cookouts

By Anna Kathryn Lanier

A few months back I found another neat book “COWBOYS AND COOKOUTS: A Taste of the Old West” by Lewis Esson.  It’s full of tidbits about chuckwagons, cooks and cooking on the trail, along with some recipes. He quotes liberally from other sources and I’ll share a bit of the information given, plus a couple of recipes today.

“The chuckwagon was a commissary on wheels, a stout wagon covered with canvas and equipped with a box at the rear for storing tin dishes, a Dutch oven, a frying pan, kettle, and coffee pot. The standard staples also had their exact places; green-berry coffee, salt pork, cornmeal, flour, and beans.  For fresh meat, of course, there was always plenty of beef handy. A folding leg was usually attached to the chuckbox lid, so that it formed a table when lowered for action.”  ~ Dee Brown in THE AMERICAN WEST

THE COWBOY LIFE: A SADDLEBAG GUIDE FOR DUDES, TENDERFEET, AND COW PUNCHESERS EVERYWHERE by Michelle Morris, includes unwritten rules of Chuckwagon Etiquette.  According to Morris, these rules were “strictly followed by the trail crew.” 

1.       No one eats until Cookie calls.

2.       When Cookie calls, everyone comes a runnin’.

3.       Hungry cowboys wait for no man.  They fill their plates, fill their bellies, then move on so stragglers can fill their plates.

4.       Cowboys eat first, talk later.

5.       It’s okay to eat with your fingers. The food is clean.

6.       Eat with your hat on.

7.       Don’t take the last serving unless you’re sure you’re the last man.

8.       Food left on the plate is an insult to the cook.

9.       Don’t even think of going back to work without putting your dishes in the wreck pan.

10.   No running or saddling a horse near the wagon. And when you ride off, always ride down wind from the wagon.

11.   If you enjoy the water bucket, refill it—pronto

12.   If you’re refilling the coffee cup and someone yells “Man the pot,” you’re obliged to serve refills.

13.   If you come across any decent firewood, bring it back to the wagon.

14.   If you ride by the campefire and Cookie’s nowhere in sight, stop and stir the beans.

15.   Strangers are always welcome at the wagon.

This week, it looks like Canada and most of America are in a deep freeze. Even here in Houston, Texas, we only got into the 40’s on Thursday (and dropped below freezing at night). So, here’s two recipes from COWBOYS AND COOKOUTS  to help warm you up.

TRAIL SOUP

Ingredients:

10 oz (300 g) dried beans, ideally a mix of equal parts of navy, pinto, anasazi or cannellini, black beans,

and red kidney beans

1 tbsp oil

1 large onion, chopped

2 celery stalks, chopped

2 large carrots, chopped

2 garlic cloves, chopped

1 bay leaf

7 cups ( 1½  liters) beef, chicken or vegetable stock or water

Directions:

Soak beans in water overnight.

Heat oil in a large pot and sauté the onions, celery, carrots, and garlic until soft.  Add the drained beans, bay leaves and stock or water.  Bring to a boil, lower the heat, and simmer for 2 or 3 hours, until all beans are tender. Season to taste and serve.

TURKEY STEW

Ingredients:

3-5 lb. (1.35-2.25 kg) turkey pieces, raw

3 onions

3 carrots

2 celery stalks

1 garlic bulb

Salt

A few peppercorns

2 tbsp oil

2 tbsp flour

6 tbsp tomato paste

14.5 (400 g) can diced tomatoes

1 tsp dried oregano

½ tsp. ground cumin

4 potatoes

A day ahead, put the turkey in a pan, add water to cover and add 2 of the onions, cut in half, 2 of the carrots, and the celery stalks, coarsely chopped, and all but 2 cloves from the head garlic. Season with salt to taste and add the black peppercorns. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat, and simmer very gently for 3 hours.

Remove the turkey from the liquid, remove the meat from the bones, cut into bite-sized pieces, and refrigerate overnight. Return the bones to the pan and simmer for 1 hour more, adding more water if required to make a rich broth. Strain and chill overnight.

The next day, skim off any fat from the stock. Heat the oil in the large frying pan. Chop the reserved onion and cook until translucent. Stir in the flour, tomato paste, diced tomatoes, reserved garlic, finely chopped, the oregano, cumin, and 3 cups (700 ml) of the stock.  Add the potatoes and remaining carrot, both diced, and cook until these are tender, about 20 minutes.

Stir in the turkey and simmer for a few minutes a warm though before serving.

Anna Kathryn Lanier
Romance Author, A GIFT BEYOND ALL MEASURE

http://aklanier.com/

Never let your memories be greater than your dreams. ~Doug Ivester 

Peacemakers Didn’t Win the West Alone

By Kathleen Rice Adams

1873 Colt .45 Single Action Army, the Peacemaker

When you think (or write, or read, or watch a movie) about the Old West, what’s the first weapon that comes to mind? If Peacemaker isn’t the first, it’s likely near the top of your list. Thanks to western novels and movies, the Peacemaker—formally known as the 1873 Colt .45 Single Action Army—is one of the most famous guns in history, and for good reason. The six-shot revolver was lighter than its predecessors and competitors, exceptionally well balanced, and accurate in the hands of someone who knew what he or she was doing. Not to be overlooked among its characteristics: A .45 slug makes a big hole.

Though known as “the gun that won the west,” Peacemakers weren’t alone in helping stalwart individuals tame the wild frontier. Several other sidearms and long guns also played roles. Here are a few of the lesser-known weapons carried by folks on both sides of the law.

Remington Frontier Army

1875 Remington Frontier Army

In 1875, E. Remington & Sons began manufacturing a single-action revolver meant to compete with Colt’s Peacemaker. Nicknamed the Frontier Army or Improved Army model, Remington’s Model 1875 Single Action Army six-shooter never attained the Peacemaker’s commercial success or legendary status, partly because Colt got the jump on Remington by two years, the U.S. Army already had adopted the Peacemaker as its official sidearm, and many lawmen and outlaws preferred the Colt’s superior balance and lighter weight. Remington’s Frontier Army had its devotees, however, including Frank James.

In my novel Prodigal Gun, heroine Jessamine Caine carries an 1858 Remington New Model, which differed from the Model 1875 only in the type of ammunition it chambered: The 1858 was a cap-and-ball pistol, while the 1875 employed metallic cartridges. Both featured a cylinder that could be removed on the go, which made for easy reloading: Just pop out the empty and pop in a fully loaded replacement. For that reason, the 1858 model was popular with both Union and Confederate soldiers during the Civil War.

.45 Schofield

1875 Remington .45 Schofield (courtesy Bob Adams)

The Smith & Wesson Model 3, which began production in 1875, saw service during the Indian Wars in the Southwest and the Spanish-American War. Favored by Wyatt Earp (who used one during the gunfight at the OK Corral) and Wells Fargo road agents, the Model 3 was ordered in quantity for the U.S. military, providing Smith & Wesson modified the 1870 Model 3 according to Major George W. Schofield’s specifications. The contract ended early when the modifications, primarily having to do with the ammunition the revolver chambered, caused confusion and inconvenience in the field.

Though heavier than both Colt’s Peacemaker and Remington’s Frontier Army, the Schofield’s range and muzzle velocity were superior to both its competitors. Prodigal Gun’s Col. Boggs keeps one in a desk drawer.

Winchester Model 1873

Winchester Model 1873 carbine (courtesy Bob Adams)

Also called “the gun that won the west,” the Winchester 1873’s carbine model saw extensive use all over the West because of its portability. The shorter barrel length—20 inches as opposed to the rifle version’s 24 inches—made the carbine easier to carry and fire on horseback. The Model 1873’s ammunition also made it popular: The rifle and carbine chambered Colt’s .44-40 cartridge, which meant users of both handguns and rifles needed only one kind of ammunition.

The Winchester Repeating Arms Company developed the first lever-action repeating rifle in 1860. Known as the Henry, the musket version was employed by the Union Army during the Civil War, to the Confederates’ extreme consternation. Rebs called the Henry “that damned Yankee rifle they load on Sunday and shoot all week.”

Calhoun, the titular prodigal gun in Prodigal Gun, carries a Winchester 1873 carbine, as does his comrade, Latimer. Calhoun also carries twin Peacemakers.

Prodigal Gun, a western historical romance, releases Nov. 20. To celebrate, I’ll give an ebook version, in the winners’ choice of formats, to two folks who comment on today’s post.

A dangerous man. A desperate woman. A love no war could kill.

Widowed rancher Jessie Caine buried her heart with the childhood sweetheart Yankees killed on a distant battlefield. Sixteen years later, as a Texas range war looms and hired guns arrive to pursue a wealthy carpetbagger’s agenda, Jessie discovers the only man she ever loved isn’t dead.

At least not yet.

Embittered by a brother’s betrayal, notorious gunman Calhoun is a dangerous man, come home to do an unsavory job. A bushwhacker’s bullet nearly takes his life on Jessie’s land, trapping him in a standoff between the past he tried to bury and the infamy he never will. One taste of the only woman he ever loved puts more than his life and her ranch in the crossfire.

With a price on his head, a debt to a wealthy employer around his neck, and a defiant woman tugging at his heart, Calhoun’s guns may not be enough to keep him from the grave. Caught between his enemies and hers, Jessie faces an agonizing choice: Which of her dreams will die?

GONE TO TEXAS IS PERSONAL FOR CARRA COPELIN

The Thanksgiving celebrations are coming up real soon. We've started to talk about who in our family will be able to get together and how can we accommodate everyone's schedule. Planning the festivities got me to thinking about -- you guessed it -- Family. I thought I'd share a bit of Texas that I posted a while back on the phrase, Gone To Texas, and a brief story on my family's beginnings in this great state.

Gone to Texas, often abbreviated GTT, was a phrase used by Americans immigrating to Texas in the mid-1800's. They moved to Texas for many reasons, often to escape debt incurred during the Panic of 1819, to start over again or to begin for the first time, to get land or to look for adventure as well as for new fortunes. Obtaining "land" seemed to be the driving force for most of those who came to Texas. People became so obsessed with the hopes promised and the romance of Texas that "Gone to Texas" or "G.T.T." was often written on the doors of abandoned houses or posted as a sign on fences.

After Davy Crockett was narrowly defeated for re-election in Tennessee, he famously said, 

My ancestor, Amon McCommas, was one so obsessed. He came to Peter's Colony in December 1844 from Virginia, stopping for repairs successively in Kentucky, Ohio, Illinois, and Missouri. Accompanying him in his journey was his wife, Mary, their grown children, James B., John (my g-g-grandfather and a soldier in the Mexican war), Elisha, William M., Amon, Jr., Stephen B. (died a soldier in the city of Mexico, December 24, 1847), Rosa, Armilda, and Mary E.

Also along for the adventure were Amon's two brothers, Stephen B. and John C., and a sister-in-law Mrs. Lavinia McCommas and her children. 

Circulars printed for distribution and posted in public places advertising the rich lands of the Red River and Trinity Colony in Texas lured many to this area of North Central Texas. One advertisement stated that the Peters Colony was “peculiarly adapted to the successful growth of cotton and tobacco,” and, “Indian corn, rye, barley, oats, sweet and Irish potatoes, peas, beans, melons, figs, garden vegetables and all the fruits.” Circulars further claimed that “the country abounds in wild game, such as buffalo, deer wild turkies, prairie hens, quails, and grey squirrels, and the forest with wild honey.” With advertisements such as this, it is easy to see why so many families decided to emigrate to Texas.

Every family settling in Texas during this period was to receive 640 acres of land and each single man 320 acres, provided they lived on and work the land for three years.

I'm in awe of so many families, not just my own, starting out with their meager belongings to travel hundreds, sometimes thousands, of miles to a complete unknown. When the McCommas' reached their destination, Peter's Colony, they set up camp on the banks of the Trinity River, where Elder Amon McCommas preached the first Sermon.

 Amon settled, with his family, five miles northeast of where the city of Dallas now stands. At that time, Dallas contained only five or six families, settled along the banks of the river.  He was a Campbellite preacher (Deciples of Christ Minister) and he founded the Christian Church of Dallas in 1845 with twelve members. In 1846, Amon chaired the meeting that formed Dallas County and was later elected as the first Chief Justice of the Dallas County Commissioners Court. He was a farmer who owned the first "tread - mill "(grist mill powered by mules) in Dallas. He served as president of the first county fair, which later became the State Fair of Texas.

We all have family traditions. Some of these are developed with new families, some are carried down through generations. We lean toward a more Southern menu when it comes to dinner I think. Starting with the oven roasted turkey, we add mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, kernel corn, green beans, cranberry sauce, giblet gravy and dressing -- not stuffing -- cornbread dressing. Dessert includes pumpkin and pecan pies. In the last few years, my daughter has been making cheesecakes that would give any one's efforts a run for their money.

 As it turns out, due to work schedules, I believe we'll have at least two Thanksgiving get togethers in order to be with everyone. Over the course of a few days, immediate family will be coming to our house, including our daughter and her husband, our son and his wife and our three grandchildren. Each family will contribute to the meal. The atmosphere will be chaotic and tremendous fun.
Family.

I wish all of you a Happy Thanksgiving and hope you are able to enjoy good food and your families. If you care to share your traditions, I'd love to hear them.

Love always,
Carra

Find me on my website: http://carracopelin.com

Facebook: http://facebook/carracopelin

Twitter: http://twitter/CarraCopelin

Wild Western Las Vegas--The "Other One."

 

 



THE SANGRE DE CRISTO MOUNTAINS

Las Vegas, New Mexico lies at the base of the foothills of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains (The Blood of Christ). Las Vegas means "the meadows." The town is 65 miles due east of Santa Fe.

MAIN STREET IN VINTAGE LAS VEGAS, NEW MEXICO

Las Vegas, New Mexico was established in 1835 after a group of settlers received a land grant from the Mexican government. They laid out the town in the traditional Spanish Colonial style, with a central plaza surrounded by buildings that could serve as fortifications in case of attack.

PLAZA IN OLD TOWN WITH PLAZA HOTEL IN BACKGROUND

Las Vegas soon prospered as a stop on the Santa Fe Trail. During the Mexican-American War in 1846, Stephen W. Kearny delivered an address at the Plaza of Las Vegas claiming New Mexico for the United States.

SANTA FE RAILROAD STATION WITH HOTEL AND HARVEY HOUSE IN THE LEFT SIDE

 When the railroad arrived in 1880, it set up shop one mile (1.6 km) east of the Plaza. Fred Harvey showed up and used one side of the station as the Hotel Castaneda, complete with one of his already famous Harvey Houses.

HARVEY HOUSE GIRLS-TURN OF THE CENTURY

 Turn-of-the-century Las Vegas featured all the modern amenities, including an electric street railway, the "Duncan Opera House" a Carnegie library, and the New Mexico Normal School (now New Mexico Highlands University.)

THE YOUNGER BROTHERS: COLE, JIM, JOHN, AND BOB

 The arrival of the railroad on July 4, 1879 brought with it businesses and people, both respectable and dubious. Murderers, robbers, thieves, gamblers, gunmen, swindlers, vagrants, and tramps poured in, transforming the eastern side of the settlement into a virtually lawless brawl.

JESSE JAMES AND BROTHERS

Among the notorious characters were legends of the Old West: the Younger Brothers, dentist Doc Holliday,  Jesse James, Billy the Kid, Wyatt Earp, Hoodoo Brown, The Durango Kid, Handsome Harry the Dancehall Rustler, and the Cole Brothers.



 Historian Ralph Emerson Twitchell once claimed regarding the Old West:

"Without exception there was no town which harbored a more disreputable gang of desperadoes and outlaws than did Las Vegas."



A CLOSE SIMILARITY OF THE OLD ADOBE HOUSE WE LIVED IN WHILE SPENDING A YEAR IN LAS VEGAS, NEW MEXICO

In 1970, my husband and our two elementary school age children lived in Las Vegas one year while he taught at New Mexico Highland University. The school is such a beautiful small college, and the rich experiences we encountered that one year have always stayed with us.

 

Living in an old renovated adobe house was quite an experience, with its polished vigas across the ceilings, pine floors, and a very small adobe fireplace in a corner. How I longed for an even floor, straight walls, and doors that shut properly. Nothing in a 100-year-old adobe house lies as it should which became part of its charm. The foot thick adobe walls kept us snug and warm during that one cold winter.

 

The window over my kitchen sink looked toward the close Sangre de Cristo Mountains, and many afternoons a rain shower moved across, watering my flowers and garden, moving on, leaving bright blue skies.

It is a beautiful place.

Note: We moved on to Oklahoma where my husband earned a PhD and I taught high school. Stillwater did not have the same old wild west feel to it, but we did enjoy our three-year stay there, too.
Next move was to our present home in Central Texas, San Marcos.

 

Thank you for visiting Old Las Vegas.

Celia Yeary-Romance...and a little bit 'o Texas

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/celiayeary

 My Website

My Blog

Sweethearts of the West-Blog

My Facebook Page 

Professional Gamblers in the Old West

Most every western I've come across references the most popular cowboy pastime of the frontier. The triple W, some called it...whiskey, whoring and wagering.

Saloons, brothel's and gambling halls popped up all across the frontier when new towns sprang up, outside army forts and along wagon trails and railroads. Most were crude establishments of nothing more than tents, which allowed them to pick up and move if needs be, while other permanent structures were made of wood.

Faro

In the early west, gambling was considered a profession by some. Professional gamblers made a career out of finding high stakes games and bet their fortunes on them. One popular game in the west was a bluffing game that transformed into our modern day poker. Other's included Black Jack, Monte and the most popular was Faro. The foremost Faro player was a man by the name of Charles Cora, who won $85,000.00 and broke several Faro banks. He was banned from playing at gaming halls all across New Orleans.

Most gamblers were easy to spot as their expensive suits and flashy jewelry always gave them away. Tristan Avery, the hero in my story The Gambler, was no different. One glance at him told my heroine, Emmaline, exactly who he was.

The Gambler (Book 3 in the Willow Creek Series)

Emmaline lifted the shotgun and pulled back the hammer. She sighted in on the stranger riding up the road and waited until she knew he was within hitting distance. She pulled the trigger and grinned when he ducked, his horse dancing underneath him enough to knock him from the saddle to end up sprawled on the ground. He cursed as the horse ran a few feet away and Emmaline sighted on him again and waited.

He stood, dusted off his pants with his hat and turned toward the cabin. One look at him and she knew it was the gambler from last night. Butterflies started dancing in her stomach. What did he want? She waited, watching him take a few steps closer and aimed for a spot by his head and pulled the trigger again. He shouted, ducked and hunkered low to the ground.

“Stop your damn shooting!”

Holding his hands up as if to surrender, Emmaline lowered the barrel an inch. “State your business.”

He straightened and reached into his coat pocket. Emmaline lifted the gun again. “Hang on a minute,” he said. “I’ve got the deed to this property.” He waved it in the air and took a few more steps closer.

Emmaline let him get close enough to see his face. He was handsome and his clothes told her he had enough money to buy the place three times over. His brocade vest was a rich purple in color, shot with gold threads throughout, his black jacket tailored. His hair was blonde and cut short, which was unusual for these parts, and she was sure he was up to something. After their encounter last night, him riding out here to give her the deed back was too ridiculous to think. “That’s close enough, mister.”

He stopped, repositioned his hat on his head, and tossed her a smile she was sure was supposed to flatter her. It didn’t.

Glancing down at the paper in his hand for a brief moment, he looked at the cabin and the surrounding forest. “This is the Hunt place, right?” He stared at her, his head tilting just a fraction before his brows lowered. “Are you the girl from last night?”

Emmaline raised the gun again. “Unless you’re here to give me the deed, you’ve no business here. Now either hand it over or go grab that horse and get back on it.”

The man grinned and lifted his hand, the paper he held blowing in the breeze. “Can’t do that, Ma’am. According to this piece of paper, you’re standing on my property. If anyone should leave, it would have to be you.”

“I can make you leave.”

He smiled and tucked the deed back into his jacket pocket. “And I’ll go get the sheriff and have you hauled out of here like an unwanted squatter.”

She huffed out a frustrated breath, glared at him for a full minute and turned, walked back inside the cabin, and slammed the door behind her.

Emmaline placed the gun back on the shelf and walked to the stove, laying her hands over the top to warm them. The old hunk of iron was barely throwing off heat but compared to the brisk wind outside, it felt like heaven.

Her thoughts were a tangle of what ifs. The man outside wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want the land and her situation had turned from bad to worse. She should have known Harold would eventually ruin them beyond repair and now that he had, knowing she’d been right left a bad taste in her mouth.

The rumbling of her stomach echoed in the room and the tears she’d been fighting rolled down her cheeks. She swiped at them angrily, refusing to be beaten, once again, by her idiotic stepfather’s choices. He’d been a careless bum his whole life and she’d forgiven him one time too many. Not this time. She’d never forgive him for leaving her homeless. She couldn’t.

Hearing the door to the cabin open, she wiped away the rest of the tears and stared at the wall. “I don’t recall inviting you in.”

“Well, legally, it's my cabin so I don’t need your permission. You are officially trespassing and unless we can come to some sort of agreement…”

She whirled and locked eyes with him. “Evicting me already? Such a gentleman. I bet the ladies just fall at your feet with such sweet talk.”

He grinned and she tried to ignore the dimple in his cheek or how much younger he looked in the bright light of day. He couldn’t have been more than a couple years older than she was. And he was even more handsome up close. His eyes were bluer than they appeared in the saloon and his fancy clothes and fresh barbered look appealed to her. She scowled when she realized she was looking at him as any woman would a man she found attractive and reminded herself he was a lying, cheating, murdering dog. “Get out.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the door, his smile widening. “Make me.”

Read more about Tristan and Emmaline in their book, The Gambler, which is available at a special price for a limited time in The Avery's of Willow Creek boxset. The Lawman, The Outlaw, The Gambler and The Rancher are being offered for .99¢ until Nov. 6th. Find the boxset at the following links.

The Averys of Willow Creek by Lily Graison 

Travel back to the 1800′s and tangle with ornery town marshals, Indians and schoolmarms who are anything but docile. Willow Creek may be a sleepy little frontier town but the characters who live there are as untamed as the land itself!

BUY THE EBOOK FROM:

Amazon 

Barnes & Noble

Smashwords

Kobo

Apple iBook Store

About Lily Graison

USA TODAY  bestselling author Lily Graison writes historical western romances and dabbles in contemporary and paranormal romance. First published in 2005, Lily has written over a dozen romance novels that range from sweet to spicy.

She lives in Hickory, North Carolina with her husband, three high-strung Yorkies and more cats than she can count and is mother of two and grandmother of three. On occasion, she can be found at her sewing machine creating 1800’s period clothing or participating in civil war reenactments and area living history events. When not portraying a southern belle, you can find her at a nearby store feeding her obsession for all things resembling office supplies.

To see the dresses Lily has created, visit her Pinterest page.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest | Google+  Wattpad | Instagram | Push Page

Ghosts Still Haunt the Site of the California Gold Rush

By Paisley Kirkpatrick

I've been enjoying all of the ghosts stories posted this past week. We used to live in a community that is known for its gold rush ghosts. In fact, the art gallery I worked in had its own resident ghosts so I am definitely a believer.

The gallery was housed in a renovated building located in Placerville, California. The building dated back to 1851. Originally it was called the 49er Corner Saloon and to this day a creek runs under the building. My first inclination of a live-in ghost was when I heard heavy footsteps overhead. I wouldn't have thought anything of it except all the tenants who worked above the art gallery were away for Christmas holiday. A man's footsteps walked back and forth; doors slammed. I mentioned this occurrence to my boss. She went upstairs and checked the entire floor. She found nobody. The next year around the Christmas holidays it happened again. Then a few months later, we found one of our wastebaskets missing. There were three gray and one pink left together in the middle of the backroom after we'd emptied them. In the morning, the pink wastebasket was missing and was never found. One of my jobs was to print out tags and tape them on the wall next to each painting. One morning I found all of the tags in the middle of the room on the carpeted floor and several paintings hung crooked on the wall. The final blow was when my boss and another clerk were working behind the counter on one side of the gallery. Across the room, a six-foot tall ceramic vase slammed against the wall hard enough to break into several pieces and the mahogany table that was next to the vase had a leg badly scratched. The ghost had turned violent for the first time. My boss called in a ghost expert and she worked her trade well. The ghost never came back after her visit.

Across the street from the art gallery is The Cary House Hotel, built in 1857. I have used this hotel in several of my books in the Paradise Pines Series. The inside has been kept in the same décor as it was when it was built. The hotel boasts of having two ghosts. The former television show that explored haunted places in the U.S. spent twenty minutes exposing Stan. I did encounter Stan when I was going upstairs to gather information for my stories. The owners have added an elevator to the hotel and it is kept inside a closet. We tried to open the door but it was stuck. The manager told me Stan wasn't happy about us intruding so we walked up the stairs. On the way down, there was no problem. The door slid open and we got our ride. It is rumored that Stan loved women and possibly the men as well. To this day he checks each doorknob in the hotel to make sure the guests are safely locked inside. He also rides the elevator up and down most of the night. Stan was the clerk in the lobby for many years. He was a short, stocky man with reddish brown hair, balding on the top and not what most people would consider a 'ladies' man. He did his job politely until alcohol took effect, loved gossip, and checking people out of the hotel. Sometimes he was insulting and sarcastic. He apparently made a pass at a man, the man stabbed him twice in anger, and Stan fell down the stairs to his death.

The hotel has many ghost sightings and it draws people to tempt their fate with the ghosts. Several other buildings in town are haunted. One day while I was taking notes in the Hangman's Bar I saw a tall man with a long black coat and tall black hat walk out of the women's bathroom. He reminded me of what Abraham Lincoln looked like. He just dissolved a few feet in front of me. No, I had not been imbibing.

We have moved from the Placerville area so I no longer watch for ghosts. They give the town a sense of the past and a bit of mystery.

Declan Grainger, the hero in my Night Angel story, was the owner of Chaumers Hotel, which I modeled after The Cary House. Chaumers Hotel took on a life of its own, but as far as I know no ghosts live there...yet.

http://amzn.com/B00909PON0

The Incredible World of Gold Rush Ghosts written by Nancy Bradley and Robert Reppert give a great accounting of all the ghosts living in this area. I recommend it to anyone with a ghostly imagination.