It has come to this writers attention that a young lady from our very own town is getting married to the grandson of the Duke of Dunsbury. Savannah is in an uproar. It has been well known that Miss Tara Wellesley was a Union Sympathizer during the War Between the States. Some speculate that she was a Union Spy but no evidence was found to prove said scandalous behavior. Sebastian Stafford, the man she is engaged to wed, is said to have been part of a secret society called the Rakes and the Crown. No evidence has been found to ascertain the validity of this either, since records don’t exist on the group, itself. Readers, you can’t get this anywhere else!
Harry Fenn, View of Savannah from the River
Strange events have been happening at night here in Savannah. Sounds of musket shots, canon fire, and sword clashing could be heard from near the river. Some have noticed British flags flying from the redoubts, men dressed in Colonial garb, and some even in the bright red coats of the English Army. This humble writer, would love to know more about these somewhat bizarre events and would like to see them for himself. Maybe even write a future article about it.
In other news, the Wellesley twins are back from their adventures in the North. There is gossip saying that one of them has a secret child housed at the Whispering Oaks plantation. Oh la la, readers! The other twin is said to have fallen for an English girl whom no one has heard of before. How scandalous! The women of Savannah will surely mourn the presence of such handsome gentlemen.
Readers, this author will have more gossip for you in my next article. Until then, check out “A Sea Between Them” by Jessica A Clements and follow this link to find out more: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B082S2KVJH.
About the Book
Tara Wellesley, a Southern belle, knew her world was going to change. The only one in her family with the second sight, she could see what would happen to those around her. What she didn’t see, however, was the English Rake that befriended her twin cousins—dragging them into a deadly battle with a rival spy ring. Sebastian Stafford, the grandson of the Duke of Dunsbury, came to the United States to resurrect the Rakes of the Crown, a spy syndicate that once supplied information for the English Crown. Now, far from England, Sebastian takes solace in Tara’s love and renames his group The Rakes of Liberty. The Rakes have one mission—to keep the Union together no matter the price. That means engaging in their own battle with the Order. But, fate has other plans. When the Order launches an attack against Sebastian’s family, he races back to England to save what is left of them. With a sea between Tara and Sebastian, will the Order get the upper hand or will love be enough to conquer an old foe?
A report from teatime at the home of Mrs. Woods, Banker’s wife: Deadwood, SD, June 30, 1879
“I asked you all here to talk about our new schoolteacher and her sister.” Mrs. Woods leaned forward to whisper to make sure the women understood the importance of what she was going to say. “They boarded the stagecoach in Iowa and rode the rest of the way with me. I could tell they were lower class just by the way they were dressed in obviously homemade clothes. Why I heard there are ten children in their family. I would think their parents would know when to stop.”
“I hear she’s a very good teacher.” Mrs. Kincaid frowned. “I know my Thomas likes her and makes learning fun.”
“Hmph. I heard about some of her ways. Classes outdoors? Teaching needlework to boys and about bugs to girls? Why children should be taught by the rod. Memorization from the Bible is the best way to teach our young.”
Mrs. Kincaid set down her cup. “Have you seen what she’s had the older children do with their needlework? Why Thomas stitched the entire Lord’s Prayer. Sounds to me like she’s using the Bible.”
The other women nodded at Mrs. Kincaid’s comments. She needed to get these women and their husbands behind her to get an older, sterner man to teach their young, not some young, pretty thing that probably flirted with the older boys.
“Did you hear that as soon as Miss Lindstrom stepped from the stagecoach, Mr. Winson, owner of King’s Restaurant, had her on the ground and was laying on top of her? I’d say that’s a poor example for our youth.” She smirked at each woman. “Why, you would have thought she was destined for Al Swearingen’s brothel.”
“I was there.” Mrs. Kincaid said.
Good, it sounded as if the woman was on her side. Now to get the rest of them to see how improper the new teacher was.
“And I know you were, too, Mrs. Woods. So, you couldn’t have missed how Mr. Winson was trying to help her from the coach and that pack of dogs knocked them both into the mud.”
“Yes, but . . .”
“And being the gentleman he is, he tried to help her up.” Mrs. Kincaid sipped her tea, then set her cup on the matching saucer. “Have you ever had to step in that mess in the street? If you have, then you know how hard it is to extricate yourself.”
“But, then she and that sister of hers stayed at King’s Hotel.”
Mrs. Kincaid shook her head. “Where else were they supposed to stay? King’s is the only proper hotel in this town. Why didn’t you offer them your place if you’re so concerned about their virtue?”
The last thing she wanted was for two pretty young things to stay at her house. She wasn’t so naïve that she didn’t know what her husband was up to while she was back East. Time to change tactics.
“Well, then there’s her sister.”
“What about her sister?” Mrs. Kincaid sighed. “I hear she’s an excellent seamstress.”
“Humph. Mending for the men around here is being a seamstress? I suppose you approve of men going out to their house to bring their clothes to her. And I heard some of those brothel women approached her at King’s asking her to sew for them.”
Mrs. Kincaid set her cup down with enough force to crack the saucer. “I don’t know what your problem is, but you’d better learn the facts before you spread gossip. The men take their clothing to Haywood’s store. Then Sadie’s husband takes them to the Julia and picks them up when they are done. As for those women, I was in the restaurant, and I can assure you she turned them down.”
Mrs. Woods checked the watch pinned to her large bosom. She wasn’t making any headway. It was time to end this little tea party. “Needless to say, I’m going to keep my eye on them.”
“I’m sure you will, Mrs. Woods.” Mrs. Kincaid stood. “But I think your time would be better spent keeping any eye on that husband of yours.” She turned to her friends. “Come, ladies, I’m in need of some fresh air.”
About the Book
The Balcony Girl is the first book in “The Darlings of Deadwood,” series. It is a candidate for the InD’Tale RONE Award.
When Julia Lindstrom and her sister, Suzanna, made the decision to move to Deadwood, South Dakota in 1879, Julia never suspected that she would meet her future husband, secretly befriend the madam of a brothel, or jump in to assist when disaster strikes the turbulent mining town. Can she survive all three?
Daniel Iverson followed the gold rush to Deadwood back when it was in its heyday, only to discover gold prospecting wasn’t the life for him. Now working as a lawyer, a case falls into his lap regarding a rash of recent illnesses affecting the men visiting the town’s saloons and brothels. Is it a disease or something more sinister?
Will a secret tear them apart or bring them together?
The School Marm, the second book in “The Darlings of Deadwood,” is still a Work in Process. This is Suzanna’s story. It started out a short story in the “Wild Deadwood Tales,” anthology and is being expanded into a full-length novel. Release is planned for later this summer.
Suzanna Lindstrom travels as a school marm in fledgling Deadood. Having left her parents’ struggling farm, she dreams of a better life in Deadwood with a man who’s struck it rich in the gold fields. Fresh off the stagecoach, she meets Kingston Winson, whom she disregards as disreputable. Is he who she thinks he is? What lesson will she learn?
“Missing Ellis,” is a short story in “Getting Wild in Deadwood,” anthology. It is a time travel involving the characters from both books.
Tina Susedik is an award-winning, Amazon best-selling, multi-published author with books in both fiction and non-fiction, including history, children’s, military books and romances. Her favorite is writing romantic suspense where her characters live happily ever after with a lot of problems in between. Tina also writes spicier romance as Anita Kidesu. She lives in northwestern Wisconsin where winters are long, summers short, and spring and fall beautiful.
Your Teatime Tattler once again has the pleasure of receiving scandalous news from afar, this about a notorious Pinkerton agent.
Dear Mr. Clemens,
You may not be able to print this
scandalous story. I am reporting to you an event that has horrified my friends
and me! Miss Lydia Wood was seen in the company of a man, Mr. Jake Hunter, in a
saloon for commoners. To make matters more appalling, she wore a scandalous
dress that exposed her ankles and a bit of her… appendages. His dress presented
him as a riverboat gambler. This was not to a costume ball, Mr. Clemens, but a
night on the town. She even sang in the saloon!
Miss Woods said she and Mr. Hunter are agents of the Pinkerton Detective Agency’s Denver, Colorado, office. I hesitate to call her remarks into question. Nevertheless, have you ever heard of a woman Pinkerton detective? You can understand why I am dismayed beyond words!
Pinkerton Agency Reward Poster
The two rushed off to some ridiculous
place called Hole-in-the-Wall, Wyoming, to chase after robbers. Don’t you agree
that a woman going to a place where robbers congregate is outrageous? Miss Wood
is from a prominent Kansas family and knows society’s rules. I am surprised she
would act so boldly in public. I pity her poor parents, who must be distressed
at their daughter’s choices. You may remember Miss Wood was left at the altar
two years ago by this same Mr. Hunter. She said
they are now in a marriage of convenience for this assignment. If that is true,
her parents know nothing of the arrangement.
As I learn more of this distressing affair, kind sir, I shall keep you informed further.
Miss Lilith Black
About the Book
AN AGENT FOR LYDIA, Pinkerton Matchmaker Series #56
When Lydia Wood is left at the altar, she
believes something beyond her groom’s control has happened. Two years with no
word have hardened her heart. She has to get away from her parents’ constant
urging her to choose an acceptable husband and wed. Becoming a Pinkerton agent
suits her plans.
Pinkerton Agent Jake Hunter has recovered
from injuries that put him in a coma and a long convalescence. He realizes
Lydia would have been injured had she been with him. To protect her, he vows to
distance himself from the one person who means the world to him.
When they are paired for an investigation of robbers they must follow the trail to a dangerous hangout of men on the run. Can the two successfully pull off their charade and capture the robbers and their stor will this trip confirm Jake’s worst fears?
An Excerpt
Lydia gazed out the train window at Wyoming’s desert landscape, recalling how terrified she’d been last night in the saloon. The man who’d wanted to take her upstairs was huge and smelled as if he hadn’t bathed in months. He carried a bottle of whiskey in one hand, some of which he had spilled on his shirt.
Thank
goodness she had her gun and her knife. Would her little gun have stopped such
a large man? With any luck she’d never have to learn the answer.
Forcing
herself not to snuggle up to Jake for comfort had been almost impossible. His
presence reassured her. He’d had several years experience at Pinkerton’s and
knew how to deflect and defeat combatants.
An
older couple sat in the seats facing theirs. Lydia avoided eye contact with the
prune-faced woman across from her. The woman had snubbed her and Jake as if
they carried leprosy.
Prune-face
ceased staring long enough to tug on her husband’s sleeve and whisper, “Horace,
doesn’t he look like the man on that wanted poster we saw in Cheyenne?”
Horace
frowned at her. “Hush, Mattie.”
Did
those two think she and Jake couldn’t hear them?
Lydia
gestured to the window. “I’ve never seen so much sand and scrubby bushes.
Barren as it is, it emanates a serene beauty.”
“Wait until you see where we’re headed. I’ve
heard it’s picturesque as well.” Jake flashed his bone-melting grin.
No,
thank you, she couldn’t weaken now. She’d had the vaccination for that grin’s
affect. Too bad the inoculation hadn’t proven very effective.
About the Author
Through a crazy
twist of fate, Caroline Clemmons was not
born on a Texas ranch. To compensate for this illogical error, she writes about
handsome cowboys, feisty ranch women, and scheming villains in a tiny office
her family calls her pink cave. She and her Hero live in North Central Texas
cowboy country where they ride herd on their dog and three rescued indoor cats
as well as providing nourishment outdoors for squirrels, birds, and other
critters.
The over fifty titles she has created in her pink cave have made her an Amazon bestselling author and won several awards. She writes sweet to sensual romances about the West, both historical and contemporary as well as time travel and mystery. Her series include The Kincaids, McClintocks, Stone Mountain Texas, Bride Brigade, Texas Time Travel, Texas Caprock Tales, Loving A Rancher, and Pearson Grove as well as numerous single titles and contributions to multi-author sets. When she’s not writing, she loves spending time with her family, reading her friends’ books, lunching with friends, browsing antique malls, checking Facebook, and taking the occasional nap.
This clipping came to the Tattler offices from a contact in the former colonies.
Dear Miss Decorum of the Angel Creek Gazette:
It has come to my attention that a certain group of impoverished debutantes from the war-torn city of Charleston have arrived in Angel Creek, Montana for the sole purpose of getting married. Of getting married, my friends! As in…the very moment they step off the stagecoach!
Postkutsche im Winter. Um 1798.
I’ve
yet to verify all the details, but it appears they are responding to an advert
in a newspaper that a few gentlemen in our town (who will not be named, at the current time) placed in the hopes of
finding themselves wives. Now, I know there aren’t many young ladies in our
town of a marriageable age, but my lands! To advertise in a public newspaper in
order to find a match seems to exhibit a lack of faith in the good Lord’s
ability to provide.
What’s
worse, I had to witness (with my own
aging eyes) one of these lovely young debutantes dis-embark from the
stagecoach just this afternoon. Not only was she dressed in tatters, she was
traveling alone without a proper companion or chaperone. Oh dear, where are my
smelling salts? Just writing about it is giving me another fit of the vapors.
I
did a little investigating and discovered that this young woman is named Miss
Elizabeth Byrd. She served as a battlefield nurse during the Great War. Bless
her heart! I don’t even want to contemplate the tragic things she’s seen and
the horrid places she had to travel while following the drum. However, if she
thinks marrying a man (sight unseen)
will make her life any easier, well, heavenly days! I wish the gel the best, I truly do.
At
any rate, Miss Byrd was escorted to the church by none other than the retired
Army Captain David Pemberton. I can only presume they said their vows and are
married by now. Captain Pemberton is a bit of an odd fellow, albeit a handsome
devil — just arrived into town a year ago, himself, and pretty much sticks
to his lonesome. A quiet, brooding man who, rumor has it, was widowed during
the war. Now, I wonder how in tarnation the other young fellows wheedled him
into going along with such a scandalous lark as sending for a mail-order bride?
I’ll be keeping my ear bent for any new juicy tidbits about this developing story and report back as soon as I know more.
Sincerely, A Concerned Citizen Who Wishes to Remain Anonymous
About the Book
Can the hope and joy of Christmas light the way for two hearts devastated by war?
Elizabeth Byrd receives an invitation to join her friends in Angel Creek, Montana to become a mail-order bride. At first, the young battlefield nurse is scandalized by the idea of agreeing to marry a man she’s never met, but the war has taken everything from her — her brothers, too many friends to count, and her fiancé. There’s nothing left for her in Charleston but more heartache.
Captain David Pemberton retreats to his hunting lodge in Montana the moment the war is over. He’s looking forward to being alone with the memories of his wife who passed in the early days of the fighting. But the men of Angel Creek don’t see fit to leave a widowed soldier alone during Christmas. Insisting four years is long enough to grieve, they dare him to join them on a holiday venture to acquire wives for them all — a dare he accepts in a weak moment.
He receives the shock of his life at who steps off the stagecoach to claim his hand in marriage.
At least I’ll fit in. Elizabeth glanced ruefully
down at her workaday brown dress and the scuffed toes of her boots. Perhaps,
wearing the castoffs of her former maid, Lucy, wasn’t the most brilliant idea
she’d ever come up with. However, it was the only plan she’d been able to
conjure up on such short notice. A young woman traveling alone couldn’t be too
careful these days.
With a sigh of resignation, Elizabeth reached down to grasp the
handles of her two travel bags that the stage driver had unloaded for her. The
rest of her belongings would arrive in the coming days. There’d been too many
trunks to bring along by stage. In the meantime, she hoped and prayed she was
doing the right thing for her loved ones. At worst, her reluctant decision to
leave home meant one less mouth for her mama to feed. At best, she might claw
her way back to some modicum of social significance and be in the position to
help her family in some way. Some day…
Her hopes in that regard plummeted the second she laid eyes on the
two men in the wagon rumbling in her direction. It was a rickety vehicle with
no overhead covering. It creaked and groaned with each turn of its wheels, a
problem that might have easily been solved with a squirt of oil. Then again,
the heavily patched trousers of both men indicated they were as poor as church
mice. More than likely, they didn’t possess any extra coin for oil.
Of all the rotten luck! She bit her lower lip. I’m
about to marry a man as poor as myself. So much for her hopes of improving
her lot in life enough to send money home to Mama and the girls!
The driver slowed his team, a pair of red-brown geldings. They
were much lovelier than the rattle-trap they were pulling. “Elizabeth Byrd, I
presume?” he inquired in a rich baritone that was neither unpleasant nor overly
warm and welcoming.
Her insides froze to a block of ice. This time, it wasn’t because
of the frigid northern temperatures. She recognized that face, that voice; and
with them, came a flood of heart wrenching emotions.
“You!” she exclaimed. Her travel bags slid from her nerveless
fingers to the ground once more. A hand flew to her heart.
About the Author
Jo Grafford writes sweet historical and contemporary romance stories — with humor, sass, and happily ever-afters.
A typical day finds her with her laptop balanced on her knees, a fizzy beverage within reach, and a cat snoozing on her knees. He takes credit for most of what she does.
When Jo’s not writing stories, she’s reading them. She adores dashing gentlemen, resilient heroines with a sense of adventure, humorous sidekicks, dusty cowboys, bounty hunters, mail order brides…you get the idea.
She loves to visit with readers in her Cuppa Jo Readers group on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/groups/CuppaJoReaders/.
To receive a personal email about each book she publishes, join her New Release Email List at JoGrafford.com or follow her on BookBub at https://www.bookbub.com/authors/jo-grafford.
Plus you can read free chapters of many of her books on Wattpad.com/user/JoGrafford.
Our devoted readers will no doubt find this clipping forwarded to The Teatime Tattler from The Headstone Gazette across the pond. Obviously, concerned citizens and devotion to proper behavior are not limited to here in London. — S. Clemens
Dear Ms. Decorum:
I’m penning this letter out of the utmost concern for the wellbeing and safety of our latest young debutante from Boston who arrived into Headstone yesterday. Lord have mercy, if the lovely Miss Daisy Danvers wasn’t thronged by a posse of train robbers the moment she set foot on the train platform! One witness claimed she fainted dead away and toppled straight over the side of the platform.
I’ve
yet to verify the details, but another witness claims she was caught in the
arms of none other than Prescott Barra, the rough and ready local bull rider
who set a previously-unheard-of, 10-second record at our last rodeo. And you
know what they say about those Barra brothers? Nothing but trouble, that’s
what!
What’s
worse about this report is the most unfortunate fact that Daisy hasn’t been
seen since Prescott rode off with her on his horse yesterday. The very notion
of them being lost in the desert — without a chaperone, no less — is giving me
the vapors right this second. Oh, where are my smelling salts?
I
did a little digging on my own and discovered that Daisy was sent to Headstone
by the reputable Boomtown Mail Order Brides Company in Boston, which can only
mean one thing: She is under contract as a mail-order bride to some gentleman
in our town. Our very town, dear citizens!
I’m not certain how reputable the name of this bridal agency will remain when
they discover one of their brides is missing. The poor gel could be anywhere.
Oh, the horrors! Is she safe? Is she alive? I can hardly bear to consider the
possibilities.
Even
if Daisy Danvers is returned to town whole and in one piece — may the good Lord
let it be so! — I am distressed to be the one to point out that her reputation
will be in shreds. The way I see it, the lovely Miss Daisy will only have one
choice to salvage those shreds. Regardless of whom she is currently affianced
to (may the Lord comfort him and send him another, more suitable bridal
candidate), it is my Christian belief that Miss Daisy has been thoroughly
compromised by Prescott Barra. Alas, he is the man she must marry.
I’ll be joining a group of God-fearing women who will be holding vigil on the steps of the General Store this afternoon. It is my hope and prayer they will have an update on this brewing scandal. Be assured I will report back with anything new I hear.
Sincerely, A Concerned Citizen Who Wishes to Remain Anonymous
About the Book
Dare-Devil Daisy: Mail Order Brides Rescue #5
To the world, Daisy Danvers is a spoiled young debutante from
Boston who always gets what she wants. But she has secrets — big, festering
secrets she doesn’t want her best friend, Meg Nicholson, to find out. All she
needs from Meg is a promise to help her find the perfect husband the moment she
steps off the train in Headstone, Arizona. Her very life might depend upon it.
She never dreamed her troubles would follow her out West, and a
whole posse of armed robbers would be waiting for her when she disembarked. She
also never dreamed a cocky cowboy would sweep her away to safety on his horse.
It’s way too bad the devilishly handsome Prescott Barra claims
he’s already affianced to another woman, because he’s everything she’s been
looking for in a husband. He’s brave and fearless with a streak of adventure as
wide as the canyons they’re riding. When she discovers he has a secret or two
of his own, she begins to hope that maybe — just maybe — their secrets will
lead them to each other.
The storm swirling across Meg’s features cleared. She stood and
held out both hands to him. “You dear, dear man! I am so happy you’ve agreed to
help me.”
That made one of them. He was fairly certain pretending to be
engaged to Meg’s dearest friend was the most foolish thing he’d ever been asked
to do.
“I’ll be sure to tell Shad how kind you were to me in his
absence.”
Right.
He was only doing this to help out a man he respected. Or at least the friend
of the wife of a man he respected… Which was the same thing, wasn’t it? His
brain hurt just thinking about it.
“What is her name?” he asked abruptly. He at least deserved to know
the name of the chit he was going to be saddled with for a few days.
“Daisy.” Meg beamed at him. “Daisy Danvers, though some folks like
to call her Dare-Devil Daisy.”
Blast it all! Helping Daisy sounded like a pack of trouble. Then
again, he was a Barra brother. Trouble followed him everywhere he went. Trouble
was his middle name.
About the Author
Jo Grafford writes sweet historical and contemporary romance stories — with humor, sass, and happily ever afters.
A typical day finds her with her laptop balanced on her knees, a fizzy beverage within reach, and a cat snoozing on her knees. He takes credit for most of what she does.
When Jo’s not writing stories, she’s reading them. She adores dashing gentlemen, resilient heroines with a sense of adventure, humorous sidekicks, dusty cowboys, bounty hunters, mail order brides…you get the idea.
To receive a personal email about each book she publishes, join her New Release Email List at JoGrafford.com or follow her on BookBub at https://www.bookbub.com/authors/jo-grafford.
