Blurb for Treasured LandOn Patrick Griffin’s deathbed, he asks his daughter Brigid to do the unthinkable–leave the Township of Melbourne with a dangerous convict. If she grants his request and risks trekking into the desert with a stranger, she could lose everything she’s come to know. Ultimately, she could end up alone, with nothing but her father’s memory. After being thrown into jail, Nathaniel O’Connor comes out of the experience bitter and ready to leave the gold rush life well and truly behind him. He is determined to take for himself what he feels Patrick Griffin has stolen from him. The only thing standing between him and his goal is Patrick’s headstrong daughter, Brigid.
Forced to work together, Brigid and Nathaniel embark on the journey of a lifetime. Traveling across the vast, unexplored countryside, they face not only the elements but also a ruthless man driven by shocking greed. Their challenges draw them together, and their experiences could not only change their outlook on life forever but turn their hearts to one another as well. Sometimes, though, what the heart needs and what the heart wants are two different things. Each has a choice to make, which may result in a loss neither wants, that of a Treasured Land.
Brigid wanted to hold her breath in anticipation, silently praying they could make it past all the tents and men, without a scene. Harmonicas sounded out here and there through the night, played by the men who were winding down from a long day in the sun. The air was crisp and clear, with only the lingering scent of fires from supper floating on the light breeze. Stars littered the dark sky, lighting their way yet concealing them in the shadow of night. It was almost enough to put her to sleep. She was tired, and again they were on the run, but this time toward Melbourne. Life certainly hadn’t been the same for her since meeting Nathaniel, and she had a feeling it wasn’t ever going to be, either.
2.
3.“Welcome to the land, our home. Be welcome to pass by here,” Sam said, his voice coming in just after the old man spoke to them. They continued that way, the old man talking with Sam interpreting what was said. “The welcome dance also awakens the spirits of our ancestors. They welcome you, too. We want to tell you a story, a story that has changed the lives of this people.”
Nathaniel turned to look at Brigid at the same time she turned to him. They both had no idea where this was going to lead, but the old man had their attention, and all they could do was listen.
4. Nathaniel had to move swiftly to catch Brigid across his arms when she promptly fainted. He looked over the dead body of their supposed supper and frowned at Sam.
“Hey, boss, give her this.”
Nathaniel watched Sam pull a bunch of leaves of some sort out from the back pocket of his pants. He held it to his lips before shoving it in Nathaniel’s shirt pocket. “For dyinmang belly.”
Nathaniel just stared at Sam, not knowing what to say just then as he continued to hold a limp Brigid in his arms. Sam stood and began to drag the kangaroo away. Nathaniel was simply speechless to all that just had taken place, and he sighed as he looked back down to Brigid.
5.“I would not have let you live the way we had and would have been angry at Patrick if he brought you out there. I am angry at him because it had come close to that.”
She did smile at him this time. Her pink lips parted, revealing her lovely straight teeth, and his chest swelled, honoured to have been the recipient of it. “Why do you smile, Brigid?”
“Because, Nathaniel, it did nae make a difference anyway. Ye are mad at him now, and I am living somewhat the way he did.”
Playlist
Winter Daze Fantasy & Action – Age: 8+
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Winter Daze Action and Adventure/Fantasy for Adults and Kids in Upper Elementary, Middle School, and High School
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Winter Daze Contemporary Romance for Teens and Adults
Winter Daze Regency Timeslip Romance
Winter Daze Contemporary Christian Women’s Fiction
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Winter Daze Fantasy with a touch of Romance: Exciting enough for Adults – Clean enough for Teenagers
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Winter Daze Fantasy, Adventure – for Upper Elementary to Adult
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Winter Daze Written Like Historical Fiction, set like Science Fiction, and Filled with Romance
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Thank you all for taking the time to review this instant library of some great indie books! We invite you to come to the Clean Indie Reads website for even more selections: Clean Indie Reads
Today I’m excited to host guest blogger Shanna Hatfield, author of the Pendleton Petticoats series. Here she talks about the city in which her stories are set and what it’s like to write historical fiction.
Pendleton Petticoats
Historic Romance Series
History is Full of Surprises
Writing historical fiction is such fun for me because I learn so much about the places, people, and experiences of the past. More often than not, I’m astounded by how innovative and creative people were “way back when.”
When the idea for a new historical western romance series began bubbling in my head, I decided it should take place in the town of Pendleton, Oregon, at the beginning of the 20th century.
Many people know Pendleton as the home of the world-famous Pendleton Round-Up and the Pendleton Woolen Mills. It billed itself as the “queen of a golden empire – golden wheat.” Around this time, Umatilla County produced one percent of the nation’s wheat crop.
As I began digging into the town’s past, I discovered, much to my surprise, Pendleton was a happening place to be in the early 1900s.
Modern and progressive for its time, Pendleton was a unique blend of Wild West and culture. They had plenty of crime and wild rowdies, as one would expect in a western town. Pendleton also boasted an opera house and theater, a teashop, a French restaurant, and a wide variety of businesses in the early years of the new century.
On any given day during that time, someone walking down the street could see well dressed ladies and gentlemen, as well as Chinese immigrants, Indians from the nearby reservation, miners, businessmen, ranchers, and farmers.
Mystery and intrigue surrounded the tunnels of the city’s Underground. What began as a way for respectable businesses to easily deliver their goods from the depot, soon turned into a booming mini-city of saloons, card rooms, working girls, Chinese laundries and more. According to local tales, the working girls used the tunnels to enter respectable businesses and do their shopping without being seen around town. Reportedly, a tunnel even ran to the doctor’s office for them to pay their visits undetected.
While the town didn’t lack for colorful characters, those portrayed in my Pendleton Petticoats series are purely fictional.
The women in Pendleton Petticoats come from all walks of life but find commonality in drawing strength from their courage and persevering in chasing their dreams. One woman longs to better her future, one to escape her past, and one just wants to find a place to call home. Aundy, Caterina and Ilsa challenge the roles typically assigned to women of this era.
If you enjoy historical fiction, clean romances, or a good western, consider reading Aundy and its sequels, Caterina and the newly released Ilsa.
Thank you for hosting me today. I’m so grateful for this wonderful opportunity to connect with your readers. I love to hear from readers, so feel free to drop me a note via any of my social media links. Email Shanna at [email protected]
Author Bio: Shanna Hatfield is a hopeless romantic with a bit of sarcasm thrown in for good measure. In addition to blogging, eating too much chocolate, and being smitten with her husband, lovingly known as Captain Cavedweller, she is a best-selling author of clean romantic fiction written with a healthy dose of humor. She is a member of Western Writers of America, Women Writing the West, and Romance Writers of America. Her historical westerns have been described as “reminiscent of the era captured by Bonanza and The Virginian” while her contemporary works have been called “laugh-out-loud funny, and a little heart-pumping sexy without being explicit in any way.”
Excerpt from Aundy: “You are one of the most stubborn, hard-headed women I’ve ever met, Aundy Erickson,” Garrett said, running a hand through his hair, sending the dark locks into a state of complete disarray. His movements made Aundy want to run her fingers through it as well. “Your ability to be self-sufficient would never come into question. If you need help, ask for it. We’re more than happy to give it. You’ve been through so much since you’ve arrived here and handled it all in stride. Growing up in the city, without any rural background, you’re going to need some help. Never hesitate to ask.”
“I know, but I’ve imposed on all of you too much as it is.” Aundy felt tears prick the backs of her eyes. She would not cry. Giving in to her emotions, as jumbled as they were, wouldn’t help prove she could care for herself and Erik’s farm. Her farm.
“You’ve never imposed on us. Ever.” Aundy was so obstinate. He couldn’t recall ever meeting such a stubborn, headstrong woman. She made him want to… Thinking about what he really wanted to do, he refocused his attention on why she went to the Underground. “Regardless of all that, what information were you hoping to find?”
“I wanted to buy something and no one would talk to me about it. Dressed as a man, I didn’t have a bit of trouble making the deal.”
“What did you buy?” Garrett tried to think of anything Aundy would have purchased in the Underground that could possibly be beneficial to the farm.
“I don’t think you’re going to like my answer.” Aundy didn’t want to tell Garrett about her sheep. He’d been quite vocal when she and J.B. were discussing the pros and cons of raising sheep the other day, about how much he disliked the “stinky little boogers,” as he referred to them.
“What did you do?” Garrett asked, pinning her with his silver gaze.
“I made arrangements with a man to buy something he wanted, quite desperately, to sell.”
Garrett’s patience was nearly exhausted. “Which was?”
She hesitated, taking a deep breath before answering. “Sheep.”
He let out a whoosh of air and sat back in his chair. Blinking his eyes twice, he was sure Aundy couldn’t have said what he thought she did.
“Did you say sheep?”
“Yes,” Aundy whispered, staring down at the cloth covering the table.
“Smelly, nasty, bleating little sheep?”
“Well, I don’t know about the smelly, nasty, or bleating part, but yes, I did agree to purchase sheep.”
“Woman! What are you thinking? Did you sign papers, make payment? Is the deal final?”
“Not yet. Mr. O’Connell was under the impression I was helping a new widow. I asked him to call Mrs. Erickson Monday morning to make arrangements for the sale.”
“O’Connell? The whiskey drinking Irishman? Why he’ll…” Garrett yelled, his eyes flashing fire.
Aundy reached across the table and clapped a hand across his mouth. “Shh. You’ll have Dent and the boys in here if you don’t quiet down. Not only should you not be here, especially with me dressed like this, but I’m not quite ready to impart the knowledge to them that we’ll soon be raising sheep.”
“Fred will quit.” Garrett stated a fact Aundy already knew. He’d made it perfectly clear that he had no interest in tending sheep, so it was a gamble she had to make.
“I’ve taken that possibility into consideration.”
“Did you also take into consideration that a lot of the neighbors around here hate sheep? Not just dislike them, but hate them. I know many people in the area raise sheep, but our neighbors are all wheat growers and cattlemen. If you think about it, there isn’t one little lamb to be found from here all the way to Pendleton.”
Are you interested in:
Early Celtic Christianity
Early manuscripts of the New Testament
Archaeology and art
Travel
Romance
Historical fiction
Mystery
Adventure?
It all comes together, and more, in the historical novel THE SIGN OF THE DOLPHIN, the second book in the series that started with THE SCRIBES: A NOVEL ABOUT THE EARLY CHURCH.
Set in the year 184 A.D., this book contains a collection of 72 letters which tell the story of a journey through Gaul and Britain. Along the way you will meet fascinating characters like Irenaeus of Lyon and Diognetus and Ulpius Marcellus. You will wrestle with the question of the two versions of the Acts of the Apostles. You will discover the glories of art in Britain under Roman rule, and you will join Marcus the scribe as he seeks to manage an unruly team, deal with an independent young woman, and share the good news with people on the Roman frontier.
This book will be available the week between Palm Sunday and Easter!
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Excerpt:
The Villa of Lucius Marcus to Justin, greetings in the Lord.
Alina is a fascinating but puzzling woman. I came upon her this morning in the garden, where she was singing her Celtic hymns. When she had finished, we talked about our mission to the house of Nepos. And then I changed the subject. “Callistus has told me that you shared with him the news about the library and its treasures. I thought I had asked you not to tell anyone.”
“Libraries must not be kept a secret,” she retorted, “and in any case, as we both know, it is not your library but the king’s library, and we should have no more right to it than Callistus or anyone else. Furthermore, ownership works differently in the world of the Celts than it does among the Romans.”
I was taken aback by her response. It seemed to me that it only could have been rehearsed in advance. I replied, “At least as far as wives are concerned, for Caesar tells us that wives are shared among groups of ten or twelve men, especially between fathers, brothers and sons.”
“That’s the view of the conqueror,” Alina retorted. “They write the histories, but can they really be trusted to understand the conquered? That’s the way it is with Caesar and all the rest of the victors. They come to conquer and not to listen and learn. And they cover over our culture with their own.”
“Alina,” I responded, “I can’t solve the problem of the war of the cultures, and nor can you. We preach a gospel that affirms and judges all cultures. But I did ask you to keep a secret, and I expected that you would keep it, and you didn’t.”
“Well, I am sorry,” she said, and then began playing her kithara again, and singing the song she has been teaching us with the refrain: Love covers a multitude of sins.
As you can imagine, I am both fascinated and frustrated by Alina. I can hardly deny my growing affection for her. We seem to be at one moment of the same mind and in the next to be worlds apart. I don’t know what to make of her growing friendship with Callistus, who seems to be able to charm and delight the women without effort.
Meanwhile, I cannot allow myself to be distracted from the great work of the mission to Britain. I left Alina in the garden, and walked back to the house. Since the place seemed especially deserted, I decided to explore some of the rooms I had not seen. It seems that the tessellated pavements and painted walls are generally of a high quality, though some have been damaged or poorly repaired. Other richly decorated rooms have been relegated to storage areas or workshops. The wear and neglect have taken their toll. The whole place feels like its greatest days are past, and it is slowly sinking into the earth, which eventually swallows up all. Thank God that what is sown in corruption is raised in incorruption, and that death is swallowed up in victory.
In one of the rooms I came upon a man who was repairing a mosaic pavement. I watched him as he carefully removed the broken tesserae, and put new pieces in their place. He spent much time digging away at the damage until all the broken pieces were removed. Beneath it I saw another, earlier floor of black and white pattern. So I see that when fashion and taste change, new floors are simply laid over old ones. And what a remarkable design this new floor was, a Roman myth laid over Celtic patterns. The central roundel enclosed a head of Medusa, simply laid out in black, red and yellow, with a great mat of hair, interwoven with writhing yellow-eyed snakes. The Medusa herself was surrounded by eight octagonal panels, each enclosing a different kind of flower. I could detect the poor quality of the workmanship from the fact that one of the flowers is badly misshapen. It is true that in the myth Perseus killed Medusa, but this Medusa, this Gorgon, seemed so alive that she still had power to kill men or to turn them into stone. The border of this pavement, which also had a great profusion of design, consisted of circles and squares with tails enclosed. The whole was full of life and business, the work of a Celtic artist attempting Roman design, and laying it over an old floor of elegant patterns of the Celtic type.
I could not get out of my mind Alina’s words about cultural conquest. I stood and watched the craftsman, who did not seem to be aware that he was on show. His skill in repairing seemed an improvement on the original. Here was clearly a master at the art of laying and repairing floors. I commented that I thought the floor was remarkable, but the craftsman gave no reply and kept on working in total concentration, the way we like to do when we are copying the scriptures.
I stood and watched him work for a few more minutes, and then I walked away thinking about what I had seen and heard. One culture is always conquering another. But how should we who preach the good news of Christ respond to culture? Should we seek to destroy the old culture and cover it over with the new? Or does the preaching of the gospel salvage all it can in culture? Did not Christ come to transform the world rather than to destroy it? And did not St. Paul urge the Philippians to think on all that was true and honorable and just and pure, and lovely, and of good report? Did he not affirm anything virtuous or worthy of praise, like the skill of this workman or the haunting Celtic melodies that Alina sings? And I am sure that in village after village as we move through this land, we will need to be sensitive about what should be removed, and what should be recruited and redeemed in this culture.
Pray for us as we pray for you, and greet all the brothers and sisters in Christ in Rome.
NOTES:34. The Villa of Lucius: For Caesar on the Celts see Barry Cunliff, The Ancient Celts, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997, 109. Marcus cites 1 Cor 15:42, 54. For the Medusa Mosaic see Cunliffe, Fishbourne Roman Palace, 113.
Welcome to Christian Author Interviews. Enjoy our interview with Jody Hedlund, an award-winning historical romance novelist, in this episode. Listen in via the video or audio and share your thoughts in the comments. Don’t forget to enter the giveaway below and share this interview with your friends!
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About Jody Hedlund
Jody Hedlund is an award-winning historical romance novelist and author of the best-selling books, The Preacher’s Bride and Unending Devotion. She received a bachelor’s degree from Taylor University and a master’s from the University of Wisconsin, both in social work. Currently she makes her home in Michigan with her husband and five busy children. Her latest book, A Noble Groom, just released.
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