Tag Archives: historical

Author Tim Ashby and His Time Travel Military Thriller–Time Fall


Time_Fall_-_Cover_Art (1)

Tim Ashby shares the struggles of characters from different time periods to understand each other–a challenge I know quite a bit about myself:) Welcome Tim.

Hello! In my new book, TIME FALL, I gave myself the job of creating realistic characters from two different time periods who must interact with one another. This task turned out to be both challenging and fun! I had a time-traveling WWII soldier falling in love with a modern-day medical student, and I had to make it all believable. Many readers have asked me questions about the process, so I hope you’ll enjoy this Q & A. (***I did and the book sounds fantastic)

In TIME FALL 6 US Army soldiers are sent, in 1945, on a mission to hit Nazi targets behind enemy lines. They parachute into a crazy electrical storm and disappear, officially Missing in Action for almost 70 years. In fact, they are pulled out of their own time and into ours. They land in deeply forested Germany, still believing it is 1945, and begin to attack.

I hope this work keeps readers on the edge of their seats as they are torn between rooting for these brave men, and knowing that the targets the men seek to destroy are innocent.

Time_Fall_3D_Cover_Art (1)Q.  In Time Fall, your lead female character, Paula von Scheller, is a 20-something medical student who is held hostage by the out-of-time US Army soldiers. It takes her a while to figure out who these guys are. How did you go about deciding how long to let her struggle?

As all the action in the book happens in less than 48 hours in present-day Germany, I had to accelerate the process of the modern characters figuring out that “a miracle of time” had occurred, yet keep it believable.  I achieved this by letting Paula’s grandfather – a WW II German Luftwaffe veteran – question the Rangers in her presence about the culture of the 1930s and 40s – popular songs, sports figures, movie stars, etc.

Q. Tell us a little about what the soldiers looked like to the modern-day woman.

“Von Scheller … peered closely at Holcombe’s uniform.  It seemed unlike the pictures of contemporary American soldiers in newspapers and magazines — more similar, in fact, to photos in World War II histories. This had to be a hoax.  An elaborate and cruel practical joke.

Von Scheller cleared his throat. “We are the victims of a hoax, Paula. These are not real American soldiers.  They are probably left-wing students trying to punish me in some sick way for my service in the Luftwaffe.”

Holcombe paused with the spoon halfway to his mouth. “The hell you say we’re not real American soldiers!  I’m a member in good standing of the best goddam fighting unit in the world, the US Second Ranger Battalion!”

“If that is true,” Paula said,” how can you claim you joined the army in 1941? You look no older than twenty!”

Holcombe banged the spoon and can on the floor.

“What the hell’s wrong with you crazy Krauts? You trying to get my goat or something?”  He took out a US Army pay book with his ID card clipped to it and tossed it to Paula. “This’ll prove I’m the real McCoy!”

Paula examined the dog-eared piece of cardboard headed “Enlisted Mans Identification Card, European Theater of Operations, U.S. Army.”

“Opa, these say his name is Private First Class Daniel R. Holcombe, Company B, Second United States Ranger Battalion.”  She looked up, her expression mingling wonder and disbelief.  “It gives his date of birth as October 8, 1924. That’s impossible!”

WW11 airplane

Q. What were some of the obstacles you faced in making the interactions realistic?

Both parties (the soldiers from 1945, and the modern-day Germans) had to initially believe the others were insane, even though both were rational within their own time context.  Also, because the action takes within less than 48 hours, I had to fit the different scenes together like a fine clockwork mechanism (no time travel pun intended) to make the plot work.  Furthermore, I did a great deal of research on the culture and even speech patterns of the 1940s to ensure that the WW II Rangers spoke and acted like people from that era.

Q. What kind of research did you do to be able to so successfully create speech patterns and slang used by WWII soldiers?

I watched a number of late ‘30s and early ‘40s motion pictures, not only about the War but the kind of popular films that the soldiers would have watched in high school and after joining the Army.  People in those days mimicked slang and even behavior from movies. For example, here’s an excerpt from TIME FALL:

“Sutton felt the four privates watching him, waiting for that nebulous thing called leadership that gave him the right to wear silver bars on his shoulders and send trusting men to their deaths.  He suddenly felt old beyond his twenty-four years, weary and homesick.  Did all officers feel this way or just him?  He squared his shoulders, resorting to a leadership technique taught by one of his OCS instructors – imitating movie tough guys like Jimmy Cagney or George Raft.”

Q. Some authors say that they must become “actors” in order to fully inhabit their characters. Was that true for you? How did it “feel” different to you when you wrote a 1945 character, and when you wrote a modern-day character?

I did indeed feel like I was becoming an “actor” in order to fully inhabit both the characters from the past as well as the present.  I got to the point where I was even dreaming about being a soldier in the European Theater during WW II.  The old German Luftwaffe veteran was a challenge as was the primary villain (who had been a Hitler Youth member during the War and remained an unreconstructed Nazi).  I had to put myself in the shoes of Germans who had lived during the Nazi era and fought against the Allies, but portray one as a good man with high ideals, and the other one as a bad man but nonetheless complex because he had been “socialized” by the Nazis from the time he was a child.

Q. Where did you get the idea of having WWII soldiers still fighting their war in 2011?

When I was a student at the University of Southern California, one of my older classmates was a Viet Nam veteran.  He told me a true story about the mysterious disappearance of a helicopter when it flew into a strange cloud during a routine mission with other choppers.  He told me that he wondered if the aircraft and its passengers had simply disappeared into another time caused by unusual atmospheric conditions.  This incident – as well as other strange disappearances over the years, including those taking place in the “Bermuda Triangle,” gave me the idea for the premise of TIME FALL.

Tim_Ashby_Author_1 (1)TIME FALL by Timothy Ashby

June, 2013 Author Planet Press

www.timashby.com

www.authorplanet.ort

@tfashby

***Filled with historically accurate details, Time Fall is a complex military tale that keeps readers riveted through every surprising twist. Read an excerpt and to enter to win a FREE copy of Time Fall, visit http://www.timefallbook.com/. For your copy, visit http://amzn.to/190ZMwe. You can also get your copy at all major book retailers.

About Tim Ashby: Timothy Ashby’s life has been as thrilling as one of his action/adventure novels. Visit his author blog at www.timashby.com.

An international lawyer, businessman and writer, Tim Ashby worked in Washington DC as a counter-terrorism consultant to the U.S. State Department, and then as a senior official – the youngest political appointee of his rank – at the U.S. Commerce Department, responsible for commercial relations with Latin America and the Caribbean. He held two Top Secret security clearances and worked with a number of colorful characters, including members of the U.S. military’s Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC). He has lived in the Caribbean and Europe as well as various places in the United States. An avid historian, he published widely on military history, archaeology, business and international relations. A licensed attorney in Florida and the District of Columbia, Tim Ashby has a PhD degree from the University of Southern California, a JD from Seattle University Law School, and an MBA from the University of Edinburgh Scotland.

Deadly 777 Writing Challenge–Beth Trissel


I was tagged by the lovely and talented, Sky Purington,along with six other authors. My challenge is to go to page 7 of my current work in progress and post seven lines. When I’m finished posting, I get to tag seven other authors. Hmm, who shall I tag? Oh and once I’m done, I challenge those seven to do the same and tag 7 more. Too much fun!

These seven lines are from page seven of my work in progress, the sequel to historical romance novel Enemy of the King, entitled A Traitor’s Legacy, featuring the dynamic British Dragoon Captain Vaughan (from Enemy of the King) and a new face, Patriot Claire Monroe. In this scene, her adolescent brother has just shot one of Vaughan’s men soon after their arrival at her North Carolina home.

“I am truly sorry for your violent reception at Thornton Hall and beg your forbearance,” she blurted, and flung herself at Vaughan’s feet just across from the wounded guide. Loose brown hair, streaked gold in the sunshine, cascaded over her slender figure. “Spare my foolish brother, I beseech you.”

Hardly in a position to indulge her notions of chivalry, as he was covered in blood and constrained by the need to apply pressure to Percy’s wound, Vaughan scowled at her in bemusement. “Get up, woman. I shall consider your request.”

The Story Behind Texas Historical Sweet Romance Wish for the Moon


My talented friend Author Celia Yeary is here with me today to share the story behind Wish for the Moon, a book I’m very much enjoying–especially as it’s set in a place and time I know little about, and the characters are very well drawn.  Now, I’m turning this post over to Celia.

A Coal-Mining Ghost Town in North Texas? What happened?

“Thurber was, but Thurber ain’t no more.”

Thurber is a coal-mining ghost town in Erath County, Texas, located 75 miles west of Fort Worth.

When my husband and I travel from Central Texas to North Texas on Highway 281, we pass under Interstate 20, which runs East-West. At that point there is a sign pointing west: Thurber-11 miles. After seeing this sign for several years, I wondered about Thurber, Texas, a small town I’d never heard of even though my place of birth was nearby. By researching Thurber, I found an amazing story of a thriving coal-mining town in the Nineteenth Century, now a ghost town with little remaining of the once populated area. Almost all signs of life are gone, including all the buildings.

Thurber was “owned” by The Texas and Pacific Coal Company in 1888. Its mining operation provided the fuel for coal-burning locomotives of numerous railroad. By 1920, conversion of locomotives from coal to oil reduced demand and lowered prices. Miners left the area through the 1920s, leaving it virtually a ghost town. It had a population of approximately 8,000 to 10,000, from more than a dozen nationalities, though Italians, Poles, and Mexicans predominated. It was the largest town between Fort Worth and El Paso.

Thurber was a pure company town. Every resident lived in a company house, shopped in a company store, drank in a company saloon, attended a company school, danced at the company opera house, and worshipped in a company church. During its heyday, Thurber was the first city in Texas to be completely electrified and amenities included refrigeration and running water. It did, however have an abnormally high child mortality rate that still puzzles historians.

Armed guards patrolled a huge fenced perimeter around Thurber, not to keep workers in, but to keep Union organizers out.

I thought to write a story based in this coal-mining town, but later my mind wandered to the next county over, Palo Pinto County, where I was born and where we lived down the dusty road to our grandparents home and farm. It was this old weather-beaten house that I placed my heroine, sixteen-year-old Annie McGinnis. I used childhood memories in the story.

And I knew how I would use the town of Thurber in Wish for the Moon.

Blurb:

At the dawn of the Twentieth Century, sixteen-year-old Annie McGinnis wishes for a chance to see more of the world, since all she’s ever known is the family farm in North Texas.

A mysterious visitor arrives who will change not only her life, but her family’s as well. To save Max Landry from a bogus charge, she follows him and the Texas Rangers back to the coal-mining town one county over where a murder occurred. The short journey sets Annie on a path of discovery—new horizons, an inner strength, and quite possibly…love.

~*~*~*~   

Excerpt:

“I’ve never been anywhere, at least far away. Oh, how I would love to go to Paris, too, and New York. Other than Brazos City, I’ve only been over to Mineral Wells, once. Did you know they have the healing water baths there in two hotels? People come from all over. Anyway, we went to a fair and rode a Ferris wheel and a carousel, and ate hot dogs from a stand, and even had fairy fluff. I didn’t really care for that pink gooey junk, though. It was sort of disappointing, you know? What you saw was something awful pretty and it promised to be something outstanding, but when you bit into it, all you got was a mouthful of airy stuff that just disappeared in your mouth.”

Max stopped in the field, took Annie’s arm, and turned her toward him. “Did you know, Annie McGinnis, you’ve just articulated how I feel much of the time?”

“What…what do you mean, ar-ticu-lated?” she asked with widened eyes.

Before he answered, he lowered the tote to the ground, and placed his hands low on his hips, gazing away from her. Words wouldn’t come exactly as he wanted, but she had expressed the convoluted thoughts he had in his head much of the time.

He turned back and said very slowly, “Often, I see something nice I might like to have, a big house, one of those new motor cars they’re making now, a new tailored suit with a hat to match, or…a family…” His voice trailed off as if he forgot what he wanted to say, but really, he just didn’t know how to express his feelings.

“Go ahead, Max, say it,” she urged gently. “A family to come home to.”

He shook his head. “But it could all disappear in a flash right before your eyes. Don’t you see? It’s not worth it in the end. You think you have something forever and bang, it’s all gone. Turned to nothing in your mouth when at first, it seemed so sweet.”

BUY LINKS:

Willow Moon Publishing
Amazon

Celia Yeary-Romance…and a little bit ‘o Texas  
http://www.celiayeary.blogspot.com
http://www.celiayeary.com

http://sweetheartsofthewest.blogspot.com

Christmas In Colonial America


George Washington’s Christmas list for his stepchildren in 1758 was ambitious: “A bird on Bellows, A Cuckoo, A turnabout parrot, A Grocers Shop, An Aviary, A Prussian Dragoon, A Man Smoakg, (a man smoking?) 6 Small Books for Children, 1 Fash. dress’d Baby & other toys.”

Children in colonial America might be given sweets or books, but most colonists wouldn’t have been this extravagant. Usually people of means gave one gift to their servants, apprentices, and children, but didn’t expect anything in return. These gifts were highly treasured and as commonly exchanged on New Year’s Day as on Christmas itself.

Christmas in colonial America bore faint similarity to the gala holiday we cherish today. The Puritans and Quakers (among other Protestant churches) banned celebrations altogether, claiming the holiday was popish and tied to pagan traditions. Anglicans, Roman Catholics, and Lutherans introduced Christmas celebrations to colonial America, comprised of church services, dinners, dancing, visiting, and more of the same for wealthy folk. (*Wreath from Colonial Williamsburg)

The music featured at balls and parties was the dance music of the period, much imported from across the Atlantic. Religious carols were also sung. “Joy to the World” became popular in my home state, Virginia. “The First Noel,” “God Rest You Merry Gentlemen,” and “I Saw Three Ships” are several more carols still beloved today.

Rather than the fervor leading up to December 25th that dies out almost as soon as the last gift is opened now, Christmas Day in colonial America began a season of festivities that lasted until January 6—thus the “Twelve days of Christmas.” Twelfth Day, January 6, was the perfect occasion for colonists to enjoy balls, parties, and other festivals.

Our emphasis on Christmas as a special holiday for children didn’t come about until the mid-nineteenth century, brought to America by the more family centered Dutch and Germans. Christmas in colonial America was predominantly an adult oriented holiday. The Southern colonies were the root of many celebrations (less Quakers/Puritans in the South and more Anglicans) and these included parties, hunts, feasts, and church services. Children were tucked away in bed or left behind, neither seen or heard. One sign of entering the adult world was the honor of attending your first holiday ball. Think how exciting that must have been for young ladies awhirl in taffeta and lace.

Plantations and other colonial homes, even churches, were decorated with holly, laurel, garlands and sometimes lavender. My garden club used to decorate a colonial era home/museum and we were restricted to natural materials and native fruit like apples that might’ve been used in that day. Mistletoe, an ancient tradition and the centerpiece of every colonial home, was hung in a prominent place. Romantic couples found their way under the green leaves and white berries just as they do now. Light was of vital importance at this dark time of year. Yule logs blazed and candles were lit, the wealthier having more to light. (*Hearth in early American spring house.  Grandson above in same old house))

A key part of colonial Christmas celebrations were the large feasts. What foodstuffs were served and the amount set before the guests all depended on the provider’s income. The menu was similar to ours. Among the offerings at a colonial dinner might be ham, roast, turkey, fish or oysters, followed by mincemeat and other pies and desserts/treats like brandied peaches.

Wines, brandy, rum punches, and other alcoholic beverages were consumed in abundance in well-to-do households. Slave owners gave out portions of liquor to their workers at Christmastime, partly as a holiday indulgence and partly to keep slaves at the home during their few days off work. Intoxicated workers were less likely to run away or make long trips to visit distant relations.

One of our most cherished traditions was unknown to colonists. The Christmas tree traveled to America from Germany in the nineteenth century. Christmas cards originated in London and didn’t gain popularity until the nineteenth century. Santa Claus is a combination of Saint Nicholas and Father Christmas from Dutch and English traditions. As Americans absorbed new people and cultures, the holiday traditions expanded. Today, Christmas is an ever-changing blend of the old and new.

Our family makes these ‘Early American Ginger Cutouts’ from a colonial recipe I found in a cookie cookbook published back in the 1950′s.

Sift together dry ingredients:

2 ¾ C. flour, ½ tsp. baking soda, 1 tsp. ginger, ½ tsp. cinnamon, ½ tsp. cloves, ½ tsp. salt

Cream together:

1/2 cup butter, 1/4 cup firmly packed dark brown sugar, ¾ cup dark molasses (we use Blackstrap), 1 egg beaten, 1 tsp. hot water, 1 tsp. apple cider vinegar

Mix wet ingredients into the dry until well blended. Cover bowl and chill dough for several hours (or more). Roll on lightly floured surface and cut with cookie cutters. Place on cookie sheets and bake at 350 degrees for approximately 15 minutes. We press sprinkles into the dough before baking but that’s a modern addition.

Enjoy this sweet spicy connection with our early American ancestors.

Sweet Saturday Sample From Time Travel Romance Somewhere My Lass #3


For more authors participating in Sweet Saturday Samples click Here.

Excerpt: Mora Campbell focused her giddy senses on the gentleman kneeling by her side. He stared at her as if she were a silkie or some other fantastic creature. Even with her head aching like the beating of a Hielan drum, the appeal of her rescuer wasn’t lost on her. My, but he’s a handsome one. Eyes colored like a brooding sky. The strength in his face bespoke the bearing of a great chieftain. His demeanor marked him as a leader. Surely he was a commanding laird.

As her vision cleared, she looked more closely. There was a dearly familiar quality about him, though she couldn’t fathom why. Searching the haze fogging her mind, she strained to remember.

Her thoughts swirled around the beloved image of a man. Niall. He looked like Niall. And he had the same masculine allure and deeply sensual air. Why was his thick brown hair clipped so short? It should fall down around his well-muscled shoulders. Outlanders might wear their hair shorn in sech a manner, but he didn’t seem to be foreign. Unless…

Her eyes dropped lower. What did he mean by wearing the clothes of an Englisher, if that’s what they were? They looked to be some sort of trews or breeches, she guessed, and a jacket right enough, but not in any fashion she’d ever seen before. The narrow striped scarf he wore at his neck was most peculiar. What purpose did it serve? And the cane he held in blood-stained fingers had the oddest face. Frightening even. If he were an Englisher, he had style all his own.

He laid the cane down, his intent gray eyes searching hers. “Who struck you?”

The force of his gaze held her. “The MacDonald, the divil.”

Her apparent champion narrowed his gaze. Lifting one hand, he lightly touched the tender lump on her forehead. His scent wafted around her—masculine and clean, like fresh wind on a braw day. She breathed it in, savoring his essence.

“You’ll need a Cat Scan, and the police will be here any moment.”

She had no notion what service this cat he spoke of might render her or what these police were, but she liked the gentle feel of his fingers and the way tufts of hair curled at his strong neck like tendrils of ivy on a stone wall. She wanted to smooth his hair with her fingers…stroke the line of his neck.

“Who are you? Why are you here?”

His query disrupted her musing in a low tone pleasing to her ears. Though his voice lacked any recognizable accent, she’d swear she knew it in her very being.~

“Beth Trissel has a way with her characters that brings them to life in your mind’s eye as fully realized people, who you want to win their battles, and find ever-lasting love. Her plot is complicated and unpredictable, and her eye for the detail of ancient Scotland is wonderful. Romantic fiction has been enriched by adding the time travel aspect to it, breathing new life into a genre that stretches back to the Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters.
The kind of book you can get lost in. Well-written and exciting, Trissel hits a home run with her time-crossed lovers.” ~Amazon Reviewer Robin Landry

Somewhere My Lass is available in various eBook formats from my publisher The Wild Rose Press, Amazon, Barnes & Noble and other online booksellers.

Announcing Winners of my Spook-A-Liscious Blog Hop


Thanks for all the great comments!  This has been a lot of fun.

The winners of my light paranormal romance Somewhere My Love are: Ashley, Gloria, Shadow and Laura H.  :)

Stay tuned for next month’s blog hop.

*And for those of you who didn’t win but would like the book, it’s for sale in print and or digital download pretty much everywhere online.  All the major booksellers and some not so major.  And if any of you buy books from KOBO please tell them to get my cover up!

 

 

Those Wonderful Dances from Bygone Days~


I absolutely love 18th and 19th century dance scenes in period movies.  And no one does them better than the British.   So romantic and beautiful, and did I mention romantic?  Some of the best dance scenes are in the various films based on Jane Austen novels, but there are many, many others too.  There’s a delightful one in Miss Potter and Becoming JaneThe Young Victoria is a visual feast...I’m drawn to these scenes like a moth to a flame.  Sigh.  Why can’t we still dance like that today?

Naturally, I’ve studied up on these old dances, even consulted an elderly expert at one point who then gave me his large collection of notes and research info.  Entrusted me with this rich legacy which has been invaluable in my writing.  He said no one else had expressed the interest in his research material that I had and he was getting on in years  and wanted to pass it on to someone who would appreciate it.  That would be me.  The best dance scene I ever wrote based on his copious notes hasn’t yet been published.  But it will, eventually.   First, I must finish the book.

Of course, I’ve included various dances in many of my books.   I love the English Country dances, not to neglect the foot stomping jigs and reels that were enormously popular in less formal circles, but I have also included more formal dances.   Back in the day, my home state of Virginia was filled with colonists who were ‘mad about dancing” according to one historian.

He also mentioned that his 19 yr old daughter was the oldest virgin he knew as folks married quite young back then.  Come to think of it, I wed my high school sweetheart at 19.  But I digress.  Frequently.  I flit between subjects like a butterfly.  Can’t blame it on advancing years, though.  I always have.

My light paranormal/historical romance Daughter of the Wind, set among the Scots-Irish in the Alleghenies, opens with a lively dance at the McNeal homestead when the hero arrives, shot, and bangs on the door.   Breaks up that party.

My colonial American romance short A Warrior for Christmas (in The American Rose Christmas Anthology) has a charming dance scene or two that I loved writing.  The frontiersman/former Shawnee captive hero, a rugged young man more comfortable with war dances, attempts the minuet.

The waltz in light paranormal Somewhere My Love is one of my most romantic offerings ever, if I do say so myself.   Actually, that book has two waltz scenes.  And I had a blast writing the amusing and tender dance scene in Somewhere My Lass. I dabbled in dancing when writing my colonial American romance Red Bird’s Song in a most unlikely way considering it’s set in the rugged frontier.  Trust me to work in a dance somewhere.  And it’s Romantic too, most certainly.  All of these scenes are, along with the tension or whatever else is unfolding in the story.  The characters don’t just dance.  Although I happily could.  I didn’t manage to get a dance into Enemy of the King or Through the Fire although I referred to dancing.  They are both such fast-paced adventures, we really didn’t have time to linger over a dance.  Except at the cast party, of course. :)

Does anyone not love these wonderful old dances from ages past?  And the costumes…I’d love to have a different one for each day of the week (or month) from various eras.  Today I shall be Lady so and so in my voluminous colonial American gown.  Tomorrow, I’ll swirl about in my Regency do, then ride off in my carriage to attend a ball in the Victorian age.  Not to neglect the Edwardian era which had wonderful gowns.  Now and then I’d get down with the Scots and kick up my heels in full clan regalia.

I  suppose all these costumes might appear slightly eccentric to onlookers.  Like I’d care if I had them.  And filigree jewelry.  I’m quite taken with the word filigree, defined as ‘delicate, lacelike ornamental work of intertwined wire of gold, silver…’

And now, I’ll send you off with a dance!  What else?

Enemy of the King and The Battle of King’s Mountain


Kings_MountainOctober has come to the Shenandoah Valley in all it’s splendor, a mellow month of glorious color and mountains awash in every imaginable autumnal hue.

October is also the anniversary of the Battle of King’s Mountain, an epic conflict that took place in the neighboring Carolinas, and one that many Virginians took part in.

To quote The Sons of Liberty Chapter/Sons of the American Revolution website:

http://www.revolutionarywararchives.org/kingsmtfall05.html

“Many historians consider the Battle of Kings Mountain on October 7, 1780 to be the turning point in America’s War for Independence. The victory of rebelling American Patriots over British Loyalist troops completely destroyed the left wing of Cornwallis’ army. This decisive battle successfully ended the British invasion into North Carolina and forced Lord Cornwallis to retreat from Charlotte into South Carolina to wait for reinforcements. This triumphant victory of the Overmountain Men allowed General Nathanael Greene the opportunity to reorganize the American Army.”

“Thomas Jefferson called it “The turn of the tide of success.” The battle of Kings Mountain, fought October 7th, 1780, was an important American victory during the Revolutionary War. The battle was the first major patriot victory to occur after the British invasion of Charleston, SC in May 1780. The park preserves the site of this important battle.” (caption under this image of the battlefield)

It seems to me that a battle of such enormous significance should not be forgotten, yet few today have heard of King’s Mountain, let alone are aware of the significance attached to that name.  But I am.  Back when I was doing research for my first colonial frontier novel (Red Bird’s Song) and pouring through old annals, I continually came across references to King’s Mountain.  The battle, unknown to me then, impressed itself upon me through the pride these early Scots-Irish forebears had in having taken part, so I made a mental note to go back at some point and discover more.

Enemyoftheking_w2243_300I learned about the gallant, ill-fated British Major Patrick Ferguson who lost his life and Loyalist army atop that Carolina Mountain called King’s back in the fall of 1780.  And the hardy, valiant, sometimes downright mean Overmountain men of Scots heritage didn’t take kindly to Ferguson’s warning that they desist from rebellion or he’d bring fire and sword upon them and hang all their leaders––all these enemies of the King!

So impressed was I by the accounts I read that I featured the battle in my Revolutionary War romance novel aptly entitled, Enemy of the King.

I’ve visited the site of the battle twice, walked the wooded knob, read the markers, admired the monument engraved with the names of the Patriots who fought there, paused by the stone cairn where British Major Patrick Ferguson is buried, and communed with the past.   Those who have gone before us and all they sacrificed in the founding of this country should not be forgotten–nor those who are sacrificing now– especially with all the challenges America faces.

A pensive and prophetic quote from the fallen Patrick Ferguson, whom I admire, despite his having been on the ‘other side.

ferguson“The length of our lives is not at our command however much the manner of them may be.  If  our creator enables us to act the part of honor and conduct  ourselves with spirit, probity, and humanity the change to another world whether now or fifty years hence will not be for the worse.”

For more on my work please visit: www.bethtrissel.com

To purchase Enemy of the King at: Amazon

Enemy of the King at: Barnes&Noble

Enemy of the King at: The Wild Rose Press:


Release Day For Historical Romance Novel THROUGH THE FIRE!



My third release for this amazing month is THROUGH THE FIRE, fast-paced historical romance novel with a THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS flavor & a mystical weave, 2008 Golden Heart ® finalist. Out today at the Wild Rose Press. http://thewildrosepress.com Already out at Amazon, it will soon be widely available at online booksellers in both digital download and print. Local stores can order it in.

Trailer for Historical Romance Novel THROUGH THE FIRE



My third release for this amazing month is THROUGH THE FIRE, fast-paced historical romance novel with a THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS flavor & a mystical weave, 2008 Golden Heart ® finalist. Coming to the Wild Rose Press on Friday. http://thewildrosepress.com