Saturday, February 22, 2014

Saturday Sample, February 22, 2014

Welcome back to Saturday Samples! In this portion of a scene from my forthcoming novel, Gone for a Soldier, Julia visits her daughter-in-law and new grandson.
~~~


When Julia had finished her town business at the Hilbrands store on Friday, she began to pull herself up into the buggy for the return trip home, but something stopped her, and she put her foot back on the ground.

She looked in the buggy. Her egg basket, now heaped with parcels, lay on the floor of the vehicle. Had she forgotten some task, an item she was to buy or sell? No. Had she neglected to ask for the mail? The envelope addressed to her in Rod's firm hand that seemed to burn a hole in her pocket belied that notion.

Her grandchild. Oh lordy, she had forgotten to pay a visit to Mary and the baby!

Taking herself in hand, she walked around the block to the Hilbrands' home and let the knocker fall on the brass plate. Ida bade her enter, and she soon knocked on Mary's door.

She found the girl in her bed, in tears, her bodice open, and the baby lying across her limbs squalling in counterpoint to his mother.

"Ah, Mary girl! What's this?" She picked up Roddy and put a finger into his mouth. "Shush, sweet boy. Shush," she crooned.

"I am a failure," Mary wailed. "I cannot feed him." She covered her face. "Mama rents a wet nurse."

"There, there." Julia tried to sooth both mother and son.

Mary put her hands across her bosom and gasped out, "I've tried so hard. Mama says they are too small, which prevents the milk from coming."

"Nonsense," Julia said. "I am small, and have not lacked milk for my youn'uns." She bounced Roddy as she commenced walking about the room. "You are anxious. That is causing the stoppage." She returned to the side of the bed. "Have you been up? Hasn't it been two weeks now since he came along?"

Mary shook her head. "I am to stay quiet until I cease passing blood."
~~~


Knowledge certainly has advanced since Civil War times. We don't stay abed for weeks after child birth anymore, nor do we think size matters in milk production.

What do you do when you encounter a lack of knowledge where you may be able to educate? Has anyone tried to rid you of a notion that time has passed by? How did you react?

I hope you enjoyed this short bit from Gone for a Soldier, my forthcoming novel set during the American Civil War. Thank you for visiting. I love to read your comments, so if anything in the sample compels you to speak up, rest assured that I eventually read what you write and will reply, if needed. Questions? I'm open to them, too.

Please come back next Saturday for another sample. Thank you!


Marsha Ward is the award-winning author of the acclaimed novel series featuring the Owen family. Her latest book, Spinster's Folly, won the 2013 USA Best Book Award for Western Fiction. A former journalist, Ward has published over 900 articles, columns, poems and short stories. She is the founder of American Night Writers Association aka ANWA.

Saturday, February 15, 2014

Saturday Sample - February 15, 2014

Welcome back to my Saturday Sample!

In this portion of a scene from my forthcoming novel, Gone for a Soldier, Rulon struggles with a disease often found in Civil War camps: mumps.
~~~


Throughout the week, Rulon suffered a great deal of pain from his ailment. He began to write a rough journal of what was happening to him in case he didn't survive the disease, and got Ren to promise he would send the account of his illness to Mary in that event.

He wrote of fever coming and going, of nights of torment spent pacing beneath a tent upon which drummed incessant rain, of keen pains darting through his jaw and each tooth, of muscles and nerves jerking and quailing at the pain, of tremors, then more pain that the doctor could not ease.

One night he found that sitting alongside the stove with his mouth full of cold water brought a small amount of relief. Finally, the pain, fever and swelling abated, and he looked forward to being discharged the next morning.

He awoke while it was yet dark and screamed in agony. The other side of his jaw had risen in the night, and all the pain, fever, and throbbing were back. One of the men assigned to nurse the patients came running with a light, and tried to shush him.

"Quiet, man. What ails you?" He held up the light and swore. "That must pain you a mite."

Rulon tried to tear his jaw off to relieve his distress, but the nurse tied his hands down and summoned the physician.

The doctor swore in his turn. "It's four o'clock in the morning. Keep silent!"

Rulon clamped his teeth shut, shame crowding him into desperation. He thrashed on the cot. He wanted to die. He could not endure this torture further.

"Oswald, bring me the laudanum."

"Can he take that?"

"Do as I say. These dying men shouldn't deal with all this noise."

Sometime after the doctor administered part of a tumbler of bitter liquid to him, Rulon began to drift in a half-lit world of haze and buzzing. Then he went into a dark place and knew no more.
~~~
 

Many of us have never seen anyone afflicted with the mumps. I didn't realize how much pain it could cause until I researched it. Although my mother and baby brother had the mumps when I was a child, I never caught it. I was too young to notice if they suffered like Rulon did.

I hope you enjoyed this short bit from Gone for a Soldier, my forthcoming novel set during the American Civil War. Rulon's suffering is based on a journal account from a Southern soldier who served in that conflict.

Thank you for visiting. I love to read your comments, so if anything in the sample compels you to speak up, rest assured that I eventually read what you write and will reply, if needed. Questions? I'm open to them, too.

Please come back next Saturday for another sample. Thank you!


Marsha Ward is the award-winning author of the acclaimed novel series featuring the Owen family. Her latest book, Spinster's Folly, won the 2013 USA Best Book Award for Western Fiction. A former journalist, Ward has published over 900 articles, columns, poems and short stories. She is the founder of American Night Writers Association aka ANWA.

Saturday, February 08, 2014

Saturday Sample - February 8, 2014

Welcome back to Saturday Samples! In this portion of a scene from my forthcoming novel, Gone for a Soldier, Rulon Owen meets the captain of his cavalry company, a distant kinsman he doesn't know.
~~~

The man in front of Rulon looked up when he and Ren Lovell entered the tent. He was clothed in a military uniform with a dozen or more gold buttons up the front of the coat and copious amounts of braid adorning the sleeves. Even seated in his camp chair with one leg crossed over the other, he had an erect carriage. Several papers covered his lap, and others had spilled onto the floor around him.

"What do you want?" he barked.

"Captain Yancey, sir. Rulon Owen, come here from Shenandoah County, has reported to enlist, sir," Lovell said, snapping off a salute. "He is fixin' to sign the paper, sir. I was told to bring him here when he arrived."

Rulon imitated Lovell's salute, but the captain gave him little notice after the first cursory inspection.

"Is he outfitted?"

"He has a pistol, sir."

"Humph. I expected more from Shenandoah County than a pistol, that, that uniform, and a fancy hat." He pointed his pencil disparagingly at Rulon.

Rulon shifted his weight forward and began, "Sir, I--"
>
"Shh," cautioned Lovell. He spoke to the captain again. "He reckons he's your cousin, sir."

"I allowed him to join the company on that foundation," Thomas Yancey said. "It won't buy him special favors."

"No sir," Lovell said.

"Dismissed."

Lovell threw Rulon a glance and motioned with his head toward the tent flap. Then he saluted, about faced, and dragged Rulon outside while he was trying to execute another salute.

Lovell maintained his hold on Rulon's jacket until they were clear of the tent and the guard. Then he let go and grinned. "You should see your face."

"Whew." Rulon let out a breath, not sure if this would be an everyday occurance or not. He brushed his hands down his uniform. "I don't look as fine as he does."

"Not many of us do. When we get to Harper's Ferry, I reckon we'll get you outfitted with the uniform pieces you're missing and the gear you'll need, if you didn't bring anything more from home."

"Saddle and saddlebags with my personal necessaries is what I brought." Rulon felt his face go hot. Was the intense labor of his mother and sisters all for naught? He followed Lovell back to the tent where they had met.

____________________

Have you ever been in a situation where someone treated you with contempt? How did you handle it? Which of your emotional responses surprised you the most?

I hope you enjoyed this short bit from Gone for a Soldier, my forthcoming novel set during the American Civil War. Thank you for visiting. I love to read your comments, so if anything in the sample compels you to speak up, rest assured that I eventually read what you write and will reply, if needed. Questions? I'm open to them, too.

Please come back next Saturday for another sample. Thank you!


Marsha Ward is the award-winning author of the acclaimed novel series featuring the Owen family. Her latest book, Spinster's Folly, won the 2013 USA Best Book Award for Western Fiction. A former journalist, Ward has published over 900 articles, columns, poems and short stories. She is the founder of American Night Writers Association aka ANWA.

Monday, February 03, 2014

Cover Reveal: Old West Collection

I may have mentioned back in November--maybe not here, but somewhere--that I was asked to write a novella to include in a collection for the "Timeless Romance Anthology" series, which is coming out in May, 2014.

This past week I received the cover image, and wow! It blew me away.

I hope you like it too:


Saturday, February 01, 2014

Saturday Sample - February 1, 2014

Welcome back to my new version of Saturday Samples! In this portion of a scene from my forthcoming novel, Gone for a Soldier, Mary Owen receives a letter from Rulon.
~~~


Wondering what Christmas would be like during a war, Mary tried to be cheerful for the sake of her younger sisters, but the absence of her husband and the unsteady gait caused by her increased weight pulled her spirits downward. Although no word had been published of conflicts with the Federal army, the men defending Virginia and the Confederacy had not come home during the cold weather, as her father had said they would. This was a grave disappointment, but with the excitement of a new baby in the house, Mary was putting the best face possible on her outlook for the holidays.

Papa brought the mail home at noontime, and there was a letter for her! She snatched it away from his hand, and opened it in the kitchen with the aid of a sharp knife.

"My belov'd wife," Rulon had written. Mary could have burst into tears at the swell of emotion this brought forth, but if she did, she would wash out the ink, so she restrained herself and commenced to read of her husband's desire that she name the child for his father.

"Mama wants her dinner right away," Ida said as she entered the kitchen. She paused to look at Mary's rapt attention to her mail, and said in a nasty tone, "Stop lally-gagging around with that moon face and dish it up. I'm giving you fair warning. Don't you dare be as demanding as Mama when you drop that brat."

It was all Mary could do to keep from slapping Ida's insolent face, but she gathered her wits without a retort and folded the letter to tuck it into her apron pocket, out of sight. When would this war be over so she and Rulon could get their own place?

When dinner was finished, Papa had returned to the store, Mama was placated, and the dishes were washed and put away, Mary retired to her room to read the rest of Rulon's letter. She put her hand into her pocket as she sat, but her fingers did not find the precious envelope. She stood, digging deeper into the material, but her letter was not in evidence.

Horror rising in her throat, Mary clung to the bannister as she made her way as quickly as she could back down the stairs and into the kitchen. Where had she been standing? There, beside the food safe. But she could see nothing on the floor. Of course. Sylvia had swept. She went to the dust bin. Nothing. Had the letter been kicked underneath the food safe or a cabinet? How was she to find it if it had? As big and ungainly as she was now with her belly full of child, she would never be able to get down on her hands and knees to look. Even if she did get down on the floor, she would never be able to get up again.

Sobbing now, Mary tried to get the broom underneath the most likely hiding spots, but she could coax nothing from beneath them. Again and again she tried to maneuver the broom straws to her advantage, but it was not to be. Wherever the letter had gotten to, it was as good as lost.


____________________

What have you lost that was precious to you? Where did you look for it? Did you ever find it?

I hope you enjoyed this short bit from Gone for a Soldier, my forthcoming novel set during the American Civil War. Thank you for visiting. I love to read your comments, so if anything in the sample compels you to speak up, rest assured that I eventually read what you write and will reply, if needed. Questions? I'm open to them, too.

Please come back next Saturday for another sample. Thank you!

Marsha Ward is the award-winning author of the acclaimed novel series featuring the Owen family. Her latest book, Spinster's Folly, won the 2013 USA Best Book Award for Western Fiction. A former journalist, Ward has published over 900 articles, columns, poems and short stories. She is the founder of American Night Writers Association aka ANWA.

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