Margaret Westlie Shares an #Excerpt from Anna's Secret @MargaretWestlie #HistFic #Mystery #TBR

Ian surveyed the expanse of red fields linked one to the other by the rail fences and the wild blueberry bushes, remembering that day, and Anna’s sturdy figure hurrying away over the crest of the hill, her auburn hair in its neat bun, shining in the sunlight, her back straight in its grey drugget dress.

He strode on. The night air against his skin was as warm as milk. He thought again of the tiny daughter lying beside Anna in the churchyard. We should have had another, and another after that.

He had said as much to her after she had recovered from their daughter’s birth, but she had only smiled at him and nodded. She never conceived again, he thought. …

Old Annie had attended Belle’s delivery, but there was not much she could do except give her wormwood against the pain. The baby was turned, she said. She had tried to turn it but Belle had only screamed in pain and had begged her to stop. Belle had laboured for a day and half and finally died from exhaustion. “The baby was likely dead long before that for the same reason,” said Old Annie.

Old Annie knew things. She had the second sight. She also knew about plants and seeds and weeds. She attended Donald’s birth too, Ian remembered, and the birth of the nameless little one. Anna seemed to take great comfort in Old Annie’s presence after that. She spent many hours visiting her. At least that’s where I thought she was, he thought. They say Old Annie knew how to help a woman get with child. I wonder if she knew how to prevent it too? He shivered at the idea. Would Anna have done such a thing? Old Annie’s senile now so I guess I’ll never know.

His thoughts took him past Murdoch’s ruined house, doorless now in the bright moonlight. Old Annie was right about this, too. Murdoch’s door was smeared with blood, the blood of the just. My Anna’s blood. Though I don’t know anymore how just she was. Oh, Anna.

He followed the path that took him across the field to where Anna had lain so few weeks ago. The little pillow of straw, still dark with her blood, lay a few feet into the field, Ian stopped and stared at it. This is all that’s left of her, he thought. Rage filled him. Why, Anna? He kicked the straw pillow to bits and began to run, a great lumbering run. It felt good to run again. The soft wind blew past his face and whistled across his ears.

Suddenly he was in James’ dooryard. The house was dark and silent now, the windows jagged where Donald had broken them. The rage, which had abated somewhat in his run, returned to a hot boiling fury. “I will burn this house of sin!” he shouted, and ran to the barn to gather some straw. He returned in a few moments with a great armful and stuffed it through the gaping windows, then went back for another. Armload after armload of straw he carried and stuffed through the windows, far more than he needed to start a fire.

“My father helped build this house,” he raged, “and I will destroy it!” He stood and surveyed the dark silent house before lighting the match that would burn it to ashes. His father’s face seemed to hang in the air before his own, its expression sorrowful. He remembered that expression from his childhood, and hesitated before striking the match. The rage drained away. “Oh, Poppa, what am I to do?” He fell to his knees and wailed like a tiny child, the tears finally coming, awkward, hot and wrenching. He buried his face in his hands and wept, the tears dripping between his work-roughened hands onto his grey homespun shirt. At last, his sorrow and his anger spent, he rose and stumbled away across the moonlit fields to his own place, the match still clutched in his fingers.

Anna Gillis, the midwife and neighbour in Mattie’s Story, has been found killed. The close-knit community is deeply shaken by this eruption of violence, and neighbours come together to help one another and to discover the perpetrator. But the answer lies Anna’s secret, long guarded by Old Annie, the last of the original Selkirk Settlers, and the protagonist of An Irregular Marriage. Join the community! Read Anna’s Secret and other novels by Margaret A. Westlie.

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Genre – Fiction, mystery, historical

Rating – G

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Website http://www.margaretwestlie.com

James Rada, Jr. on Winning Two Dozen Journalism Awards @JimRada #AmWriting #HistFic #CivilWar

I was asked to give you a little insight on me by telling you 10 things that you might not realize about me from author biographies that you see in the back of my books.

1. My first short stories were published while I was in high school. I was a senior in high school when I had short stories accepted for publication in the National Vietnam Veterans Review. I wasn’t paid for them, but I still count them as my first publishing credits.
2. My first professional publishing writing credit was in 1988. The first time that I got paid for something I wrote was when I was still in college. I competed in a competition to develop a marketing and advertising campaign for a new business. I put together an entire campaign with ads, press releases, etc. and won the competition.  What I was particularly pleased with was that I was competing against teams of other college students, and yet, I won by doing it all by myself.
3. I have won more than two dozen journalism and advertising awards. I have won awards from the Maryland-Delaware-DC Press Association, Society of Professional Journalists, Associated Press, Maryland State Teachers Association, CNHI, Utah Ad Federation and American Advertising Federation of Greater Frederick. I figure it is only a matter of time before my books start winning awards. I’ve got my fingers crossed.
4. My family is not interested in writing. You would figure that at least someone in my family would also be interested in writing since it’s my work. They’re not. In fact, only my youngest son is the only regular reader in the family and my wife admits the only book of mine that she has read was my first historical novel published in 2000.
5. Both of my sons are adopted. My wife and I have two sons. They are both adopted; one from Kentucky and one from Russia.
6. I love to bicycle. I can’t say that I’m particularly fast on my bike. I average about 13.5 mph, but I do bike about 100 miles a week. I tend to meander along the back roads in the county where I live. I love the scenery, but sometimes the hills kill me. I will even ride my bike if I have to run errands in Gettysburg.
7. I own a dinosaur egg. I have a small collection of interesting fossils, rocks and minerals that I’ve accumulated over the years. At a festival I attend annually to sign books, there’s another gentlemen who sells rocks and minerals. I always check out his items. Last year, he had a fossilized hadrosaur egg from China. It’s about the size of two softballs. It was a splurge purchase.
8. I have had articles published in more than 110 publications. I like to write and I try to get in a wide variety of publications as well as getting published multiple times in the ones I like. I do this rather than focusing on a few magazines because I have had magazines that I write for go out of business. I have been published in magazines, newspapers, web sites, newsletters and newspapers that cover a lot of different markets and subjects. One of the reasons for the variety is that I usually come up with an idea first and then try to find the market for it.
9. I started out as a business major in college. I did this because my grandfather kept telling me that I needed a major that I could get a job with. I figured out that when I get falling asleep in class, though, that I might want to find a major that better suited me. With my grandfather’s advice in my head and my interest in writing, I settled on advertising copywriting, which was an enjoyable major.
10. I am a big Jimmy Stewart fan. Forget modern actors. My favorite actor is Jimmy Stewart. I’ve enjoyed his movies since I first watched Mr. Smith Goes to Washington while I was in college. I think I have seen all of his movies and most of his television roles. I have even listened to his old-time radio series and guest appearances.

So there you have it. That’s 10 things I bet you didn’t know about me. Does it make me seem geekier? Oh well, it’s me.

The Civil War split the United States and now it has split the Fitzgerald Family. Although George Fitzgerald has returned from the war, his sister Elizabeth Fitzgerald has chosen to remain in Washington to volunteer as a nurse. 

The ex-Confederate spy, David Windover, has given up on his dream of being with Alice Fitzgerald and is trying to move on with his life in Cumberland, Md. Alice and her sons continue to haul coal along the 184.5-mile-long C&O Canal. It is dangerous work, though, during war time because the canal runs along the Potomac River and between the North and South. Having had to endured death and loss already, Alice wonders whether remaining on the canal is worth the cost. She wants her family reunited and safe, but she can’t reconcile her feelings between David and her dead husband. Her adopted son, Tony, has his own questions that he is trying to answer. 

He wants to know who he is and if his birth mother ever loved him. As he tries to find out more about his birth mother and father, he stumbles onto a plan by Confederate sympathizers to sabotage the canal and burn dozens of canal boats. He enlists David’s help to try and disrupt the plot before it endangers his new family, but first they will have find out who is behind the plot.

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Genre – Historical Fiction

Rating – PG-13

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Website jamesrada.com

Mike Hartner on Networking Online & Being Social @MHartnerAuthor #WriteTip #AmWriting #HistFic

How To Network Online to Sell Your Book

First, I must print this disclaimer. I’m not a marketing individual. And I, James, the second book of The Eternity Series which will be released in September 2014, is only the second book that I’ve tried to market. So, everything has been trial and error. But, I will borrow heavily from badredheadmedia.com’s Rachel Thompson, and several others, and the lessons they have taught me.

1. You need an Online Presence. Gmail+, FaceBook, Twitter, Pinterest…. They all have their uses. Personally, I’m on FaceBook, and Twitter.
2. Facebook has my personal page, where my family and friends reside, and then a Corporate page which is where I try to publicize The Eternity Series. And other projects that I have. BcBaldEagles.com also comes to mind. It’s also a separate corporate page. And the three pages share posts from each other.
3. Twitter is my second social media channel. @MHartnerAuthor is my identity, since Rachel once said, it’s better to publicize yourself as an author than to publicize individual books, and keep changing the identity. Son’t confuse people. Publicize yourself as an author.
4. First Rule of Social Media: It’s Social. Don’t Spam. Don’t spill every word saying ‘Buy my book’. Build relationships, show people your interests outside of writing. If you’re interested in Nutella, and Alaskam wilderness cabins, show that. If it’s quilting, crocheting and flowers you’re interested in, show that. Let people meet the REAL you.
5. Pluggio and hootsuite are great tools. Pluggio allows you to ‘drip’ every few hours news topics of your interest. Hootsuite allows you to post on more than one site from a consolidated dashboard. Both are useful.
6. Don’t expect everyone who follows you to remain. But help them by not including expletives in every second post, or every third word. Show them that you can enjoy life as much as it can frustrate you.

Social Networks allow you to reach out to a lot of other people. AS much as you want others to follow you, follow them. Find others with your interest. Other authors, other Nutella aficionados, other quilters, whatever… By following a wide range of others, a wide range of them will follow you.

BLOG, or get blog tours. Blog tours are GREAT exposure for your book. They usually have a wide and diverse cross section of reviewers, who are all interested, to some extent, in your writing.

HELP OTHERS. If you can help others with your lessons, do. If you can Share other’s posts, announcements, etc… chances are they’ll share yours. And your messages will get out to people you never expected.

90/10 Rule. At least 90 percent of your posts and blogs should be focused on things OTHER THAN selling your book. Great reviews are one thing you can announce more often. Share Reviews of books you’ve read. Even better if they’re current books (last five years). Even Better if you’re following the author when you post the review.

ENGAGE your audience. Snippets, comments, and reviews of everyone’s work are great things to post. Top Ten lists about your life, about your hobbies… all of these build audience.

And while you’re building audience, but not screaming BUY MY BOOK, chances are some people will buy it.

And that’s what makes social media so great. Being Social.

James Crofter was ripped from his family at age 11. 
Within a year the prince was a pauper in a foreign land. 
Is nature stronger than nurture? And even if it is, can James find the happiness he so richly desires? 

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Genre - Historical Fiction, Romance

Rating – PG

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#Excerpt from "The Beautiful American" by @M_Holdsworth #BookClub #Fiction #HistFic

ELIZABETH VISITS MADAME LA FAYETTE IN PRISON…
from my novel, THE BEAUTIFUL AMERICAN, by Marilyn Holdsworth

“Oh, no,” she wailed the moment the door opened revealing the two guards. “The guillotine,” she cried. “It is to be today. Dear God, dear God, have pity on my soul.”

“Oh my dear, my dear,” Elizabeth Monroe soothed, pushing past the two guards and rushing to Madame LaFayette’s side. She stooped down, took the trembling woman’s hands in hers, and knelt down beside her. “No, no; it is nothing like that. I am Elizabeth Monroe. My husband, James, is the United States minister to France and a longtime friend of your husband. They fought together in our revolution,” she explained. “I have come to visit you, assure you how very concerned for you my husband is. We are going to do all we can to help you.” She placed her arms around the sobbing, frightened woman’s shoulders, continuing her reassuring words in soft, flowing French.

I stood watching from the doorway as Mistress Monroe calmed and comforted Adrienne LaFayette. Disregarding the filthy surroundings, Mistress Monroe continued to crouch down before the distraught woman, holding her hands as she spoke. When at last she rose, she drew Madame LaFayette to her feet and embraced her.

“Merci beaucoup, thank you for coming,” Adrienne LaFayette whispered, wiping her eyes. “I was sure they had come to take me to the guillotine. I was so very frightened. My family is all gone. I thought for sure they had come for me too,” she said, fighting back the tears.

“Of course you did, my dear, but have courage. Be assured that James will do all he can for you,” Mistress Elizabeth promised, patting her gently on the shoulder before joining me at the door. “We must go now, Jasmine, get back to the Folie as soon as possible. We must tell James of this poor woman’s deplorable state.”

She glided gracefully back down the long dingy, hall, past the guards to the prison door, where Michael was waiting to escort us safely back to the carriage.

You can read more about The Beautiful American, by Marilyn Holdsworth at: http://marilynholdsworth.com/the-beautiful-american/

As a novelist, I draw on many real life experiences to provide background for my books. After completing studies in Literature and History at Occidental College, I became a staff writer on a travel magazine, and throughout my career I have traveled extensively all over the world. Because I love horses, I owned and trained them. I support horse rescue and wild mustang preservation. Based on my experience with horses and my research on abuse issues, I wrote Pegasus.

As a descendant of James Monroe, I did extensive research at the James Monroe Museum in Virginia about him and his wife Elizabeth Kortright Monroe. I also visited their home, Ashlawn/Highland in Albemarle County. This resulted in my novel, The Beautiful American. Making Wishes, was based partly on my experiences as creator, owner and operator of a greeting card company.

Elloree Prince is an attractive, creative young woman who marries a wealthy businessman, Tom Randall. After courting his bride with unrelenting determination, Tom moves her into old-moneyed Oak View, where generations of Randalls have lived for years. Outwardly, Elloree appears to settle into raising their two sons within Oak View's stifling social structure, but inwardly, she yearns for her artistic work. 

An unexpected phone call from Mark Williams, her former employer, offers her the career opportunity of a lifetime, and she must make a choice. She is torn between her devotion to her sons and her love for her work. Her decision to return to Wishes, Inc. brings dramatic life changes to her and the people she loves.

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Genre - Women's fiction

Rating – PG-13

"Abby Long is thrilled when she offers the winning bid for an antique desk at an auction. With its intricately inlaid woods and elegant style, the desk is perfect for Abby; it is the gift she promised herself to finally celebrate her thriving antique business. She has no idea that the antique desk holds a secret that will lead her on a fascinating, life-changing journey back in time.

When Abby discovers a hidden diary stuffed inside a secret compartment in the desk, she can hardly wait to read the spidery, faded script. As she carefully turns the tattered pages, she reads the captivating story of two remarkable women from opposite backgrounds who somehow manage to form an unforgettable bond against the backdrop of a fledgling America struggling to find its place in the world. Elizabeth Kortright Monroe, the wife of James Monroe, and Jasmine, a young slave girl, develop an extraordinary relationship as they are united by pivotal historic events, political intrigues, and personal tragedies.

 From a bucolic Virginia plantation to the bloodied, starving streets of post-revolutionary Paris, this powerful tale follows the lives of two courageous women from the past as they quietly influence—and inspire—a woman of today’s world."

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Genre - Historical fiction

Rating – G

Widowed at thirty, Hannah Bradley is a successful journalist focusing on animal abuse issues. An accidental meeting introduces her to lawyer, Winston Caughfield III. Drawn to Hannah’s gentle beauty and fierce commitment to her work, Win joins her in a fight to save wild mustangs from slaughter. Together they rescue a badly injured horse with a mysterious background. Hannah’s search to discover the animal’s true identity leads them into a web of black marketeering and international intrigue. 

Action packed with crisp colorful dialogue the story propels the reader to a race against time conclusion. Marilyn Holdsworth delivers a gripping tale of mystery, adventure and romance guaranteed to hold the interest and capture the heart. She brings true-life characters together with real-life issues to create a fast-paced irresistible story.

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Genre - Contemporary fiction

Rating – PG

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Website  http://marilynholdsworth.com/

Blog http://marilynholdsworth.com/blog/

Message of the Pendant by Thomas Thorpe #AmReading #HistFic #Mystery

Suddenly, a loud voice bellowed upstairs. “Bastard!”

Charles raced up to the third floor and found Arthur Hurst sitting at a desk, rummaging through drawers.  He clutched a piece of paper in one hand, shaking with rage as he looked up at Charles.

“Businessman, hah! This man, Black is a British agent! Here’s the proof of his duplicity. Where is he? It’s time to put an end to the vermin.”

Charles gasped in shock. The entire charade was unraveling! He tentatively leaned toward the desk and reached for the note. “What do you mean? What evidence?”

Hurst glanced down at one of the drawers. He reached inside and picked up a ledger. “Wait a moment. There’s something else.”

Charles’ eyes darted toward the window, knowing Black lay outside, unconscious and defenseless. Quelling an urge to run, he pretended to be curious and slowly edged around behind the man, as if to look over his shoulder. What could he do? Desperately his gaze searched for an answer until he spied a letter opener. In one motion, he grabbed the dagger and plunged it into Arthur’s back. The rotund body jerked upwards, dropping the notebook. He tried to turn around, but instead, slumped forward onto the desk.

For a moment, Charles stood shaking in disbelief at what he had just done to his sister’s husband.

William Darmon and wife Elizabeth were powerful figures who in 1818 set society’s pace from expansive grounds known as Mayfair Hall. When a family member is murdered, a mysterious pendant is found containing a long lost request by Napoleon Bonaparte for an American mission to burn down Parliament buildings. The couple sets out on an action filled pursuit of the killer. While interviewing Henry Clay in post-war Maryland about the failed mission, they uncover evidence of a conspiracy to free the Emperor from exile. The Darmons infiltrate the cadre, but a shipwreck off the coast of Scotland, a firestorm at the Darmon’s Manor and a harrowing assault on the Island of St. Helena loom before the mystery can be unraveled.

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Genre – Mystery, Historical, Thriller

Rating – PG

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Website www.darmonmysteries.com

@JessicaDall on Developing Believable Characters #AmWriting #HistFic #WriteTip

When it comes to writing, I have always been a “character-driven” author. If you don’t have a good plot, of course it’s a problem, but I fully admit that it tends to be the characters that make me interested in writing a particular story rather than the plot (sometimes I’m not even entirely sure what the plot is going to be when I start out since I don’t tend to care for outlines).

Leaving the characters in charge of powering the story, however, makes building believable characters all the more important.  So how do you do that?

1.       Work out a backstory

No character exists in a vacuum. Just like you didn’t magically appear one day fully grown (I’m assuming…) your character has likely has some past that affects the person they are today. While you should certainly avoid info dumping (overwhelming your reader with a bunch of backstory that they may or may not need to know all or once) you, as the author, need to know what makes your character tick. Have they had a great sense of humor since they were a child? Did they learn it from a friend? Is it a reaction to having a very serious family? The answer may not matter to anyone else, but it will help you shape the little things about your character which turn them from ‘Character A’ to a real person.

2.       Use Character Questionnaires sparingly

All right, this comes down to if you find them helpful or not, but Character Questionnaires have only been passingly helpful for me in the past. They are great for getting the basics down, like what your character looks like or if they have siblings, but is thinking about what my character’s favorite ice cream flavor is really going to help make them real? If questionnaires work for you, go for it. You just might be better served working outside a form (I personally like writing in paragraphs when it comes to the basics) or using other character-building techniques. Like:

3.       Take your characters out of your story

Dialogue has always been my strength so I might be biased here, but one of the best ways I have found to develop a flat character is to take them out of the actual story, and throw them into a strange situation. How would Character A take it if she was suddenly stuck in an elevator with Character B. How would Character B act if he was out couch shopping with his mother? Without having to worry about where the story is going, the characters are free to talk to one another and generally interact with the world, which can give you some great insight into everything from their speech patterns to past relationships.

4.       Let your character lead

This one doesn’t happen to everyone, but sometimes well-developed characters get a little headstrong. If you find yourself writing and all of a sudden a character decides that they actually don’t really like a character you meant to make their best friend/significant other, let them make the change. It’s a good sign your character is developed enough to react to a situation as their own person—forcing them back to what you originally were planning will often suddenly shatter the little things that make them a “real”, believable person.

Adela Tilden has always been more ambitious than her station in life might allow. A minor nobleman’s daughter on a failing barony, Adela’s prospects seem dire outside of marrying well-off. When Adela catches the eye of the crown prince, Edward, however, well-off doesn’t seem to be a problem. Thrown into a world of politics and intrigue, Adela might have found all the excitement she ever wanted—if she can manage to leave her past behind.

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Genre – Alternate Historical Fiction

Rating – PG-13

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Website http://jessicadall.com/

HOLDERBY'S LANDING by J. D. Ferguson #AmReading #HistFic #GoodReads

“Interesting, ain’t it?” hisses in his ear. His heart leaps into his throat. If not for the fact that his throat closed upon itself, he would certainly have screamed. Whirling around, he comes face-to-face with the girl of his dream, or rather her living model, the common room serving girl. His breath is coming in snatches and he stammers as he tries to explain. Nothing comes out of him except inane yammering. She is so close he can smell the natural womanly perfume of her hair.

“It’s okay, you know”, she whispers. “No need to explain or be embarrassed. I done it myself before. Missus has a man from time to time.” She smiles and holds on to Justin’s nightshirt as she squints past him and into the room. “Ooh, but not like this one.” She half suppresses a giggle.

Justin tries to squeeze past her, only to have her hold on to the front of his shirt, and turn him, so he now is backing away. “My, my, you are the nervous one, ain’t ya? Never been with a woman, I’m guessin’. That’s fine though. You mighty good lookin’ to get away for so long without some woman hookin’ ya.” With her other hand she reaches up to her throat and pulls a drawstring holding her night dress together. It falls open in a sharp V between her breasts. He raises his finger to his lips in a shushing manner and moves further away from the door, pulling the girl along with him. He backs up until he is across the room and encounters a table with his rear end. The nightdress continues a slow slide from his companion’s shoulders to expose one pink-nippled breast. Smiling the girl uses her free hand to tweak her nipple causing it to dimple and expand. Justin is enthralled. Despite being caught spying, and now within earshot of the couple in the next room, he is beside himself with desire. Everything he has been through tonight has done nothing if not enflame him sexually. He makes a sudden decision to have this girl, no matter the consequences. Have her now, and right here.

With a look of feminine understanding, red lips part and brown eyes assume a wily, lascivious glint. She maneuvers around him to the table, deftly raises her nightdress above her hips and positions a firm bottom on the table edge. Impatiently she whispers, “Well then? It ain’t goin’ to do the job without a bit of help.” When Justin just stares at her exposed charms, she grasps the drawstring of his underpants, tugs them loose and allows them to fall to the floor. Now fully erect and exposed, she admires the swollen penis pointed directly between her legs. “Good Lord, boy. The women that passed you by surely didn’t know what they missed,” she whispers with a giggle.

When Justin Thorne, coddled student and heir apparent to Sylvan Springs Plantation, is forced to find his heritage, his manhood, and his destiny, in the space of one brief spring, all hell breaks loose on the banks of the Ohio River. His Virginia of 1836 is a time of transition and enormous growth. Northern industrial might and southern aristocracy, abolitionist movements and slave cultures, collide in turmoil and lay bare the raw needs and desires of those intrepid spirits confronting the frontiers of the antebellum South. 

Coming of age is an expected result of time and circumstance. It happens to all who live so long, but to each within the dictates of their own lives. The process is on-going and ever dynamic. Every person is a precious product resulting from the effects of nature and nurture. One’s ancestry, culture, and environment collude in myriad ways to make us; all as different as each life’s story, and as singular as snowflakes. This theme is played out over-and-over throughout the world and throughout history, in millions of places like Holderby’s Landing; as similar and as different as each human is to the other. 

Holderby’s Landing is a single glimpse in time at the coming of age of a land, a community, and a few determined souls thrown together in love, strife and chance. What they make of the time, the opportunities and themselves is the story told and the living breath of this book.

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Genre – Historical Fiction

Rating – PG-13

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Website www.jdferguson.net

Jesse James & the Secret Legend of Captain Coytus by @AlexMueck #Excerpt #Historical

Chapter 64

“Do I get a pay raise?” asked the Captain.

“Huh?” said Aberdeen as he lay in bed.

Jimmy spoon-fed him spotted dick, which seemed all the more funny with the picture the Captain took of Aberdeen, Jimmy, and Miss Mosley.

“You told me you never sold more than fifty papers in a week. The paper came out yesterday. We sold all forty original copies, printed one hundred more, and they’re all gone. Your circulation is up like an erection.”

Aberdeen jerked his side to side and moaned. “How? Most of this town is so broke they can’t even afford a deformed slave.”

The Captain leaned against the wall. “The credit goes to you, sir. At first I was mad you changed my questions and found your revisions to be silly with all due respect, but you insisted.”

Aberdeen’s head levitated from the pillow. “This better be one of your jokes.”

He waved the charge away with his hand. “Sir, you sold more papers on Saturday than any newspaper in the state. I am attributing the success to you. If you want me to take all the credit, then yes, you should give me a raise.”

“What questions?”

He pulled a sheet from his pocket. “Ninety-eight percent of the voters said Moses was right to lead his people from slavery.”

“Why would I even care to ask something so ridiculous?”

“Beats me. My question was, ‘Holy Moses, did you know God threatened to kill Moses’s son because the boy hadn’t yet been circumcised?’ I always wondered why a bit of skin mattered so much to God and wanted to know if others did as well. You took my idea and went on a different tangent.”

“What else did I ask?”

“Fifty-eight percent of voters believe there was no difference between black or white chess pieces.”

“Of course there’s no difference, despite what 42 percent of the mental midgets say.”

“I originally asked about the difference between white and black women’s chests, but you refined the question to the game of chess.”

Aberdeen frowned and waved him to continue.

“The public was evenly split on whether a white wolf was better than a black wolf.”

Aberdeen rolled his eyes. “Please tell me this is a joke. The question is doggone dumb.”

“My original question asked men if they liked a blonde girl with black fur—a wolf in sheep’s clothing?”

Jimmy suppressed a grin and fumbled the spoon, and spotted dick spilled onto the bed sheet.

The Captain said, “Sixty-seven percent believe blonde-haired people are superior to those with dark hair. The original was, ‘Do men prefer blondes?’”

Aberdeen wagged a finger. “I warned you about pulling my leg.”

He pushed off the wall and playfully tugged at Aberdeen’s leg. “That’s pulling your leg, but all joshing aside, these questions were yours, sir. Right, Jimmy?”

Aberdeen fixed his gaze upon Jimmy, who tried to look busy and oblivious to the conversation.

“Jimmy, you know how I feel about liars. Well?”

“Master, I will do every chore you ask, but you know better than to ask my opinion.”

“Of course I don’t want your opinion, boy,” scolded Aberdeen. “I want verification, not a viewpoint.”

“Master, please do not sell me to a less gracious master than you, but what this man says is true. You said lots of things that did not make sense.”

Aberdeen gazed at his slave crossly, but the larger man didn’t flinch. Then he looked back to the Captain. “What else did we ask?”

“You loved the next question and did not change it at all. Fifty-one percent said they liked the French better than the Negroes.”

Aberdeen’s lips curled, and he tapped his chin. “That is a good question.”

“The next question, a conundrum you claimed to ponder. Forty percent said the raped, mixed-race baby should be a slave. Seven percent said the child should be a free citizen, however 53 percent liked your idea about part-time slavery.”

“I have never pondered such nonsense in my life,” declared Aberdeen with disdain.

The Captain folded his hands in prayer. “My honor stands on General Stonewall Jackson’s grave.”

The injured man coughed like he’d inhaled bad tobacco. “At this rate, the general’s grave must have rolled halfway to China.”

“Yeah, maybe the Stonewall name is apropos, and he’s resting against the Great Wall.” His grin did not lessen Aberdeen’s frown. “The next question was also an original. Eighty-four residents answered that the dumbest white man is smarter than the smartest black man.”

This brightened the dimwit. “There’s hope for this town, yet. It all comes down to education. All white men are inherently more intelligent than Negroes. You can train a dog to do a few tricks, but it’s still a canine.”

Jimmy let more of the spotted dick drip.

“The final question was only a light alteration. Since most blacks worship the same God as white folk, I asked if both races are equal in God’s eyes. You simplified that to, ‘Would Jesus be proslavery?’ Eighty-six percent envision Jesus as the sky’s plantation owner, with Negro slaves picking cotton from the clouds.”

Aberdeen nodded. “Like the gentleman I am, Jesus would be a civilized master.”

The spotted dick dribbled downward, again. Plop, plop, plop.

“Speaking of Jesus, your idea about offering a reward to those who expose whites who engage in the sin of interracial sex was a stroke of genius.”

Aberdeen’s right eye dropped. “Doctor Tristan is a quack. He likely drugged me with a toxic tonic.”

“You seemed so keen on this idea, sir. In fact, you insisted.”

“Now that I think about, it is a lovely idea. We’ll publically humiliate the traitors who trespass on decency with perverse bestial acts.”

The rest of the spotted dick came down like a waterfall. “Oh, my God,” Jimmy said. “Sorry, Master. Let me clean this mess up.”

“You bungling buffoon! These sheets were imported from Egypt.”

“Perhaps I’m to blame, sir. With the increased demand for your newspaper, Jimmy had to work overtime to print all the extra copies. So I made your meal today. My apologies; the spotted dick is more flaccid than usual. You like it nice and firm.”

“True. Anything else you want to tell me?”

The Captain stuck his finger in the crease of a dimple. “Oh, yeah. I hope the vase on the mantel was not worth much.”

Aberdeen’s eyes bulged like a wet binding. “What? My grandfather bought that in Florence! The true worth is immeasurable when the sentimental value is calculated. What happened?”

The Captain shrugged with a sheepish grin. “In celebration of our newspaper’s success, I drank a little too much. I became nauseous and panicked with thoughts of fouling the furniture. So—”

“You vomited in my vase? That’s disgusting. Alas, surely Jimmy can wash it out.”

“Yeah, well, it gets worse.”

“Worse?”

“I went to clean the vase myself, when I was suddenly overcome by an emergency urine call.”

“You washed out my grandfather’s vase with piss?”

“I suppose I did. But tragedy struck when my penis got stuck. The fluted top allowed easier entry than exit. When I finally freed willy, I dropped the vase, and it shattered in pieces.”

Aberdeen’s hands found the top of his head as though he held his brain back from shooting like a cannon ball.

“Wait a minute. I’ve dabbled with pottery before and did my best to fix your vase.” He dashed from the room. He heard Aberdeen muttering as he returned with the vase over his head as he entered the bedroom. “See?”

The ceramic was crudely glazed together. Extra clay bonded various fracture points like mountain chains on a topographical map. Candlelight could be seen through small holes left by missing pieces. “I can improve upon this,” he boasted. “When I’m done, it will appear as a work of great antiquity. No one quibbles over the cracks in Michelangelo’s Creation of Adam.”

Aberdeen banged his head up and down on his pillow but stopped to look at the vase again and thrashed about more. He pulled the sheet over his head. “Leave!”

The Captain and Jimmy shared a smile.

“Okay, you need your rest,” the Captain said. “We can discuss my pay raise later.”

The bed sheet rustled furiously like a cadaver returned to life.

"“A historical fiction comedy that packs
as much heart as humor.”
—Michael Dadich, award-winning author of The Silver Sphere

When a Harvard history professor receives a thesis paper titled Jesse James and the Secret Legend of Captain Coytus, from Ulysses Hercules Baxter—an underwhelming student—he assumes the paper must be a prank. He has never read such maniacal balderdash in his life. But after he calls a meeting with the student, Professor Gladstone is dismayed when Baxter declares the work is his own. As he takes a very unwilling Professor Gladstone back in time via his thesis, Baxter’s grade hangs in the balance as he attempts to prove his theory.

It is 1864 as philanderer and crusader Captain Coytus embarks on a mission to avenge his father’s death and infiltrates the Confederate Bushwacker posse looking for the man responsible, Jesse Woodson James. Accompanied by the woman of his dreams, Coytus soon finds himself temporarily appointed to be the sheriff of Booneville and commissions his less-than-loyal deputy to help him carry out his plan.

But when tragedy strikes, the Captain is forced to change his immature ways and redefine his lofty mission—more or less."

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Genre - Humor, Historical Fiction

Rating – R

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