Author’s Note: After watching, no absorbing, hours of The January 6th Committee hearings, I needed to calm down. I scanned Netflix and Prime Video for horror movies. I nearly signed up for a few more expensive and never-to-be-released-from entertainment streams before I remembered my childhood carnival-rides mantra. “Why pay for fear? Why spend money to be afraid? Why would I? It’s free?”

page 72, Joann, Ross and Catherine wait for their friends in a luxury suite of 1908’s Patterson’s Hotel of Charleston, South Carolina.

Joann raised her water glass in a toast, “Sucess comes from living well, laughing often, and loving much.”

“Well said,” Catherine gave her a smile, as she turned to answer the knock on the hall door. She opened the door to a humble Trevor whose eyes were wide as he entered and surveyed the splendid room. Jacob followed him and then shut the door.

“This isn’t our railroad car now, is it?” He gave Catherine a quick hug then walked around the perimeter before stopping to enjoy the city view. “The clerk at the desk sure acted strange.” He turned around and directed his question to Catherine. “How is it he knows my title? He introduced me to the manager, who then offered to take my servants to the docks to retrieve my luggage.”

With his hands in his pockets and the warm smirk on his dimpled face, Catherine wasn’t sure how to go on. He looked adorable. However, she wondered, just where had that man been? “Yes, your footman and valet need to go to the docks and take care of that. They could also buy some needed clothes for you on hotel credit. Your title will cover a list of sins that can be repaid someday soon.”

Jacob walked across the room and pulled Ross by his elbow. “Wish us luck and while we’re gone, please work on that plan some more. Your trust funds won’t jump through those windows all by themselves.” Ross gave Joann an encouraging smile and he shut the door behind them.

“Catherine, I need the outhouse … no, the necessary,” announced Joann.

Catherine pointed to the smaller rooms off to the left. “You should not have to watch for spiders in that outhouse, Joann. In fact, I think you’ll enjoy it.” Joann hurried out, shut the door and Trevor smiled at Catherine as they heard exclamations of surprise. “She’ll like the flushing the best.”

“I was going to guess the toilet paper,” he laughed.

“Now, Mr. Earl, just where did you hurry off to? We can’t have our group disbursing themselves.” She sat in a comfortable stuffed armchair opposite Trevor and tried to stare him into telling her the truth.

“Yes, that was poorly done of me,” he sat and then uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, resting his elbows onto his legs. “I sent a telegram,” he lifted his head, and she watched the wrinkles of turmoil develop across his forehead.

“To whom? The Cranfields?” Her palms began to feel moist. “Surely you didn’t tell them where we are?”

“No, not the Cranfields, although I do need to deal with them soon. I sent a telegram to my two younger brothers, Edward and Charles.”

She rubbed her hands together, then willed them to be calm and steady in her lap. “I suddenly realize how little I about you.” She took in extra air and whispered, “Tell me about your family.”

Trevor smiled and began, “Well, Edward’s the surprisingly shy one and Charles is the party boy.” He stood and started pacing. “They need guidance even under the best of circumstances.”

“How old are they?”

“They’re in their minority, both under twenty-five.”


“My mother died when Charles was born, and father passed several years ago.”

“So, you’re not new to the earl business.”

His shoulders jerked as if he had been hit.

Enough! (for now)

This author’s update:


Life keeps interrupting, but I managed to complete “Edits II” of my WIP – The Countess of Change. More editing is needed, but a break is needed more. During this break, attention will be paid to this blog, research possible agents and their varied requirements, and then there’s the dreaded Synopsis of The Countess. By the way, that’s a working title. It might end up being The Empire Awakens or some such noble stuff.

Our story here, Gray Lace, my dear sweet novel of 1908 (originally published in 2016) has progressed her characters from the swamps to a suite of hotel rooms in Charleston, SC. They have just arrived, and Catherine is anxious to retrieve her fortune while Ross gives her some advice.

Writing historical mysteries is soothing to me after the events of this month and June is only ten days old.

Page 70 – The Patterson Hotel

The pleased management presented a smooth registration and welcome to the staff of The Earl of Warrenwood. As asked, they climbed the back stairs and searched for the suite of rooms assigned to their master. Ross nervously opened the door and said out loud what they were all thinking. “We should have thought of his luggage. He should be traveling with several trunks and boxes.”

“At least his title covered most of our sins,” Catherine walked around the spacious and comfortably furnished sitting room. “It’s a good thing the manager believed the luggage is still at the docks.”

Joann tried each chair before she settled on the Victorian high back couch. “He’ll have to do a bunch of shopping before he settles in for the night.”

Jacob had been studying the view with his hands behind his back. He turned and suggested that he wait for Trevor in the lobby. “I’ll take the part of his valet and loudly inform him about his lost luggage.” He smoothed out a few wrinkles and straightened his coat. “I have the feeling the management will be eager to help.” He started for the door, “In addition, I doubt we’ll have to pay for anything until we leave.”

His laughter followed him out the door.

Ross drew in his long legs from the comfortable chair and crossed his feet at the ankles. “I’m beginning to really like that man.”

Catherine had been pacing the length of the room and completed several laps before standing still. “We need a plan. This place will only believe us for a few days at the most. ” She walked back to the window facing the street. “My infamous bank is right there. It’s only one block over. I feel like I could reach out and grab my trust fund papers from the safe deposit box.”

“I’ve robbed from an occasional box of groceries, but a bank is beyond my talents, young miss.”

“Ross, you’ve never stolen,” Joann continued her twitching with her hands in her lap. “Maybe, Catherine, we shouldn’t plan anything until all of us are here.”

Catherine knew she was overly anxious, but she glared at her friend anyway. “Don’t you think we can do this? We’ve managed quite well without Mr. Newsome and The Earl before.”

“Slow down,” Ross stood, joined Catherine, and gazed out her window. “Yes, we’ve done well, but that was in the sticks of alligator country. This is the big city and Joann and I are a bit out of our element.” He pointed down to the busy street three floors below. “Look at those folks. Their clothes are all clean, stiff and stylish, I guess, but when you get a chance, look in their eyes. Behind the supposed happiness, there’s greed and all the stresses and worries that brings.”

Enough! (for now)

Chapter 7 starts with this quote: “Teamwork divides the task and multiplies the success.” Author Unknown. Our characters are beginning to understand how to divide their talents to achieve their goal; retrieve Catherine’s inheritance. Their office of Planning and Development is in the basement of Jacob’s Synagogue, Kahal Kadosh Beth Elohim in Charleston.

Egad! page 68

“Mr. Newsome, please don’t feel that you have to help or even stay with us,” Catherine enjoyed the large pieces of tomatoes and mushrooms in the last few bits of warm soup and hoped he’d argue with her.

Thank fully, he did. “Mr. Newsome is it? Are we back to formality? It’s Jacob, call me Jacob, and yes, you’re stuck with me unless you vote me off the team.”

Catherine smiled at him in thankfulness and asked, “Jacob, do you recall a large hotel at the corner of Meeting and Webster? Perhaps I can convince Lord Coffman to supplement my non-existant funds until I can retrieve my own.”

A muffled retort came from the gentleman nudging her side. “Trevor,” he managed to correct her through the bread recently dunked into his soup and stuffed into his appreciative mouth.

“Yes, it was there when I left, but moved out of this fair town before you were forced to do so.” Jacob reminded her in kindness.

“Wait,” Trevor interrupted. “Why don’t you fine folks check into this hotel you spoke of? Catherine, here, please take some money.” He pulled several bills from his wallet and also gave her a quick kiss on her cheek. “I’ll join you in an hour or so. If for some reason things don’t work out, we’ll meet back here.” He stood and approached the waiter, gave him a donation before heading up the stairs to the outside.

“Gracious, that was fast. Where’s he going? What’s going on? Did I miss something? Joann gave Catherine a worried look. “By the way, have you forgotten how I’ll be received in any hotel in the center of this town?”

Catherine hugged her upper arm and said, “I’ve no idea what his lordship is up to, but I do have an idea that whatever it is, he’ll serve us well. And in my plan, all of us will have to behave as his humble servants.”

“That I can do,” Joann lamented.

“What are you thinking, Miss Catherine?” Ross had finished his third helping of soup and bread and was savoring his warm mug of coffee. “I can see the wheels turning in that fine mind of yours. Tell me, what is our next adventure?”

She drew in a deep breath before explaining to the group that they would all be acting as servants to the Earl of Warenwood. “I’ll bet all the hotels will want his business.”

“He’s not that way,” Jacob noted. “He doesn’t act the snob.”

“No, he isn’t,” Catherine explained to her valued friends. “He’ll have an acting job, too. You see, it’s debutant season both here and in London. He’s used to this, and he’ll know how to act the part. He’ll need his staff of servants to complete the drama.” She checked for spies and eavesdroppers, although she really didn’t expect any. “The mothers of young debutants will horse whip anyone who tries to stop them from flaunting their daughters in front of an English title. Therefore, they’ll spend money in any hotel sheltering that title. He’ll need a valet, a footman, and two wardrobe maidens. Won’t he?”

She enjoyed the silence and then they marveled, “Catherine, you’re amazing,” Ross sat back and seemed relaxed for the first time since they left their lake. “This hotel will serve as a great hide out for Joann as well as a place to plan our next step without fear of being found.” He wiped his mouth with the napkin and placed it next to his empty bowl. “I hope. Well, it’s worth a try and oh, when that Englishman of yours returns, we need to question him. He never said where he was headed. We can’t work together like that.” He shook his head and sighed, “But we shouldn’t proceed without a vote, and shouldn’t he have one? Do we wait for him?”

“He’s not an American. He’s not used to democracy,” Catherine responded, nodded with a grin, and stood. She thanked their waiter and the cooks as Jacob and the others worked the room as well. They walked up the steps to the outside in a much better frame of mind than when they went in.

Enough! For Now.

Author’s Note: Today I will “publish” the beginning of Chapter Seven from my Gray Lace novel, a 1908 mystery set in my swamp just outside my window. We just experienced a 70-degree cold snap here in our eastern Carolina lake-town. Wearing a sweater, but planning tomorrow’s shorts, I’m excited to announce that my WIP is preparing to enter the Edit II phase and I’m struggling with its synopsis.

A synopsis is similar to trying on old clothes; fitting a 62,000 word count into 500.


page 67, our characters explore Charleston, SC

After several blocks, Trevor was amazed at the unexpected civilization and genteel architecture. Catherine was soothed by the familiarity of her hometown. Jacob purposely marched ahead as if he anticipated the comforts of home. Ross slugged behind Joann with a frown at anyone who dared to glare at his wife, and she kept her head down in prayers for their safety.

She raised her head to take in the scenery when Jacob led the group down a shady side lane next to an amazingly beautiful white building. “Wow”, she whispered as she gawked at the shinney windows and white columns supporting a portico decorated with detailed ornaments. Her jaw dropped and head leaned back.

“Kahal Kadosh Beth Elohim,” Jacob told her.


“My synagogue”


“My church,” he smiled when he recognized her understanding.

“This doesn’t look like anything I went-to-meeting-in,” she turned to Catherine and lowered her voice to ask, “What is it? Episcopal?” She waited while Catherine put her arms around her shoulders and gave her a hug. “Hey, wait, do I smell food?” She interrupted her own question.

“This way my friends.” Jacob directed. “Downstairs is where we’ll find safe shelter, fine friends, and delicious food.” He didn’t have to talk them into it. The stomach rumbling aromas tugged them down a set of steps leading into a large noisy basement. There were a dozen long wooden tables with clean place settings and empty bowls.

Jacob picked up a bowl and they followed him through a line of servers giving them hot vegetable soup and a large piece of warm soft bread. Once they were seated, a tall silent man with a welcoming smile came to their table and filled their drinking mugs with hot coffee.

“Not bad for a cold morning,” Ross commented after several mouthfuls.

“Not too shabby for a free meal,” Trevor grinned over the lip of his mug at Ross.

“Not underappreciated,” Catherine sighed. “Jacob, thank you. Is there a place we can leave a donation of thanks?”

“I’m sure there is. Our server will answer any questions. I haven’t been home in several years, but I’m very glad to see they still have this warm shelter for anyone who walks in.”

“Anyone?” Joann had not finished with her amazement.

“Our group is so diverse it proves a difficult test for any non-tolerance. Since we haven’t been kicked out, I think it’s safe to assume, yes, Joann, anyone,” smiled Jacob. “Now, my friends, as we begin to relax our hunger, shall we plan our next few steps?”

Enough! for now

First, an author’s note: The spring season has caught up with my swamp. The alligators are numerous and the Mayflies are confused. The length of the lawn-grass worries my favorite gardener and our lake is often angry when the sea winds arrive from the Atlantic not far away. Still, I enjoy reading and writing on our pier as the birds complain that I’m interrupting their mating season, but the fish are on the bed so the stink is amazing. My WIP Draft #2 is complete and today is a break from 1908 Irish Gun Running. Today, I’ll “publish” the ending to Chapter Six of my Gray Lace, a 1908 mystery set in this swamp.

Gary Lace, page 65.

Jacob Newsome compliments Joann Garrett’s positivity and our group sets out on their Charleston adventure.

“Your attitude will get us far, Mrs. Garrett,” Jacob started a low hum of a lively tune before turning east toward the harbor. “Let’s go, my new friends. There’s a friendly retreat not far from here with warm breakfast made just for us.”

Ross Garrett mumbled, “In your dreams”

“Mr. Garrett, take a lesson from your pretty wife. If positive thoughts take seed, the plant grows.”

Ross stopped his forward march. When his friends realized he hadn’t kept up, they turned to face him with frowning facial questions.

“There’s something you should all know before any more danger and troubles head our way.”

“In the rain!” Trevor Coffman had his arm on his hip and his other arm lifted his rifle to his shoulder but pointed it to the soggy heavens. “Are you Americans still fighting that old war? It’s over!”

“Not for everyone,” mumbled Ross, “especially here.”

“Oh, good grief, shall we get out of the rain, feed our hunger, and make a plan? We need a successful campaign.” Trevor stared forward once again.

Catherine Randolf laughed and caught up with Trevor. Over her shoulder she told the Garretts, “He’s a bit wordy, but he’s right.” She faced forward and urged Jacob, “Lead on, Mr. Newsome.”


Enough for now!


Our five characters have finally arrived, they have finally retreated from their uncomfortable freight car and stepped into Charleston of 1908. Finding necessities will be difficult, but not as elusive as friendliness, helpfulness, or understanding. They will have to rely on their strengths: intelligence, perseverance, and bravery. Tough to find attributes these days, let alone in that long ago, a slow healing southern town.

A nearby stranger’s hacking cough urged the five to silently jog behind huge piles of lengthy logs waiting for the sawmill. After several scurries around the yard, they approached the main gate, and the guardhouse rattled from the snores heard inside. They managed to scoot away and feel the freedom of the darkened streets of Charleston.

“Now where?” Ross reflected everyone’s willingness to bathe, eat, and rest. Not necessarily in that order.

“There’s a rooming house over there” Catherine pointed across the street and the porch light welcomed them into a decision. It took a while for someone to answer, but the answer to their request for two rooms turned the late evening positive.

“There’s room for the gents in my front room and you gals can have the upstairs small bedroom. Come in so I can shut out the cold.” The tall husky man who had answered their knock turned and seemed to expect them to follow. “There had better be five honest people behind me. I’m a captain on the Charleston police force and I need my sleep.”

He pointed to the backdoor and explained about the plumbing, a small house outside. “We’ll install indoor arrangements this year, I hope.” His sudden stop and turn caught their attention as he glared at Joann. “Sorry folks. She stays in the shed next to the outhouse,” he grinned and added, “There’s some old blankets out there.”

Jacob stepped forward with his wallet exposed and the bills forcing the leather to open. “Now, how much do the five of us owe you? There’s a discount, right? There’s a discount for a Jew and a beautiful half African?”

The silence thickened. The host softened his glare and it landed on Catherine. “Are you willing to sleep with her?”

She stepped forward and counted the hairs in his nose. “Willing, ready, and pleased to do so, any time, any place. Are there enough blankets for two in that out-building of yours?”

He hesitated, but finally answered with a shrug, “Suit yourself, young lady. Just don’t let it get around this town that you’re a … ” His sudden change of tune surprised no one. The red lines in his sleepy eyes turned blue with fear when the weapons came out. He held up his hands, “No need for those, gentlemen. We all need our sleep. Let’s get to it.” He turned, left the room, and ignored their sighs of relief.

Ross slid his arms around Joann and closed his eyes as Jacob and Trevor returned their pistol and knives to their pockets and sheaves. “Good God, woman, are you all right?”

“Of course, I am. That wasn’t bad. Remember, we’ve been through worse.” She kissed him for a quick wonderful moment, let him go, and turned to Catherine. “Come on then, faithful one, let’s check out our hard fought-for luxury suite upstairs.”

“Wait. We need to make plans,” Trevor sounded whiney even to himself.

Jacob sluggishly threw himself onto one of the worn couches. “Those can wait until morning, my friend. Kiss the pretty girl good night and turn down that lamp. Shouldn’t waste good kerosene.” His eyes closed and the others appreciated how tried their new friend must truly have been when his entire body seemed to deflate into slumber before their eyes.

“He’s right,” Catherine sighed.

“About what?” Trevor stepped as close as he could to her warmth.

“You should kiss me before I fall over.”

Trevor followed her directions and Joann planted a quick a second quick peck on Ross’s cheek before leading Catherine upstairs. The men settled on the second couch and a large, overstuffed chair and drifted toward sleep, while listening to their ladies briefly move about just above their heads.

From the back of the house heavy steps approached the front. “You folks be gone before sunrise.”

“The price includes breakfast. You must serve early,” Ross reminded him from his chair, while his hunting knife itched to appear from his belt.

“No breakfast,” he crossed his arms, expecting trouble. “Y’all paid extra to break the law.” He then turned the lamp completely dark. “No colored in this rooming house,” he mumbled.

In the pre-dawn light, a cold drizzle tapped on the glass as if in warning of a difficult day ahead. The five walked onto the porch and faced the street with baggage in hand. Joann announced, “Well, that went well.”

Enough! (Until later)

Our characters, Catherine, Trevor, Joann, Ross, and Jacob are riding out the last few miles into 1908 Charleston in a logging company freight car. Catherine tries to release any obligations the others felt to keep her safe. However, they’re unwilling to back off. They’ve invested time, energy, and love in her. Jacob is presently only interested as he’s new to the situation.

(Page 62 in paperback)

Catherine absorbed as much oxygen as her lungs allowed and then let it all escape. “I need to confront an evil force bent on faking my kidnapping and probable death in order to obtain the fortune that had been left in a trust.” She explained to Jacob. She continued in fear over the racket caused by the slowing train. “The three goons are after me to return my dead body to my stepparents. They then will bribe the courts to release my money.”

Joann stood, shook off any dirt and crumbs from her skirts, and braced herself against the machinery. “One of the many lessons I’ve learned, child, is that you can’t always get what you want. Your stepparents are a bit spoiled, I’d say.” She checked out the expressions on the men. Turning to Catherine, she offered an alternative, “Let’s disappoint them.” She smiled her warm motherly face to Catherine.

“Adventure! Ah, I love adventures.” Jacob rubbed his hands together and stood up. “Do you have a plan, Mrs. Garrett?”

“Soon, she’ll have one soon,” Ross confidently answered. “So, are you with us, then?”

The train had slowed more, so instead of waiting for Jacob’s answer, they settled on the floor and hid, while they waited near the open door for the train to make a pass through another logging camp. Ross glanced out and estimated time of arrival into Charleston in less than an hour. “There’s those tall church steeples and the roads are wider. We’ll probably have to jump this ship just before it pulls into the lumberyard, or we’ll have to wait until dark. What do y’all think?”

“Exactly, my friend,” Jacob started gathering his cloth bags. “Let’s wait until dark. The crew won’t empty this car right away. These bags are my fortune, young Catherine. Nobody will bother to steal them,” he laughed before he added, “Except those who own less,” he winked at her and it sent a message of perseverance and an attitude of understanding priorities.

Their hunger and exhaustion made the waiting for dark nearly unbearable, but the hugs and smiles of encouragement made the time arrive for escape from their cold transport. The men jumped down on silent feet and the ladies passed down their weapons and sacks of meager supplies, and then they too jumped. Trevor caught Catherine by her waist and purposely slid her to the ground as slowly as she would allow. He landed a kiss, a warm slow kiss, on her lips and he thrilled at her willingness to stay in his arms.

Egad and Enough! (for now)

Egad! If my theme, my brand, my whatever, is “Finding the Heart of the Mystery”, then today, The Feast of St. Valentine is an appropriate time to continue. Trevor and Catherine are finally arriving in Charleston, SC. With their friends, Joann, Ross, and Mr. Newsome, they begin to end their perceived problems. Sometimes it’s difficult to see down the road, paved with those good intentions or not so much.

Catherine helped Joann prepare a feast in their moving freight car and soon Trevor and Ross helped them devour their first meal of the long and fearful day. “Now, my friends, in the box on that machine,” Jacob Newsome pointed above their heads, “there is a bag of sweets a kind elderly gentleman made for me.” Ross retrieved the bag and divided up the candy. He carefully walked the few steps to Jacob and handed him a fair share.

“Thank you for giving us what is probably your fortune. God sent you to us and I thank you again.” He offered his hand in friendship.

Jacob took the bag and stored it in his pocket. “I’ll save it for a rainy day in Charleston. Thank you, Mr. Garrett.” He smiled up at him and they shook hands. “Am I correctly assuming that’s where you’re all headed, back home with Miss Randolph?”

“You’re assuming correctly, Mr. Newsome,” Trevor answered, as Ross returned to sit with Joann.

“So, if I may ask, what evil has brought you to my current mode of transportation?”

Catherine mentally sized up the strangeness of their situation. Here they sat in a cold rumbling cargo railroad car carrying on the politest conversation she had heard since fleeing Charleston. He thoughts of home brought up the ugly memories and her own objectives. These kind people should be far away from her nightmares. An idea began to form in the sleepiness of her mind. “Mr. Newsome, where are you headed?”

“Not sure, my dear, why do you ask?”

“Maybe the Garretts and Mr. Coffman, here, could help you find a shelter, perhaps some employment.”

Ross chuckled out a laugh, “You can’t get rid of us that easily. Have you forgotten The Three?”

“Three?” Jacob’s eyebrows headed north.

“Yeah,” Ross continued, “Our Catherine is popular with three men who’ve been bothering the dickens out of her since we met a few weeks back. There were four, but our good Mr. Coffman took care of one of them.”

“Well, that was a coincidence. Please allow a correction,” Trevor interrupted, “Someone else lost control of a bullet that was meant for me.”

Catherine had nearly forgotten Cranfield. Hopefully, he and the others had given up the chase. Right now, she needed to get Trevor safely away. “Listen everyone, Charleston is a port town and recently a navy base has opened. Ross, Joann, Mr. Newsome, could you not help Trevor to find his way there and possibly a ticket home?”

“Why would they want to that?” Trevor pulled her closer, a deeper embrace than they had been enjoying before.

She hid her face and mumbled, “I have something I have to do.”

“Yes, you do, but I’ll help you, Sweetheart,”

She lifted her head and hugged him back. “Trevor, from what I’ve read about your British aristocracy in this day and age, it is obvious you need to find an heiress. I am not her. Yet.”

“Obvious?” asked Trevor.

“Heiress?” Jacob joined in.

“Yet?” Ross whispered.

Joann pretended to wake and added, “Listen to the girl more often, gentlemen.”

Enough! more later. Maybe.

Gray Lace, Part 31

Egad! I am back. I took a necessary “Pause” and now I am ready to write about Trevor’s and Catherine’s adventures in Chapter Six. The question remains, however, are you?

Catherine liked his manners. The freight car continued to rattle its way south through the Carolinas of 1908. She carefully observed their new passenger, actually, they were the new ones. Trevor, Joann, Ross and Catherine had jumped into his world. She wasn’t naive enough to think Mr. Newsome was necessarily better than sliced bread. That compliment is reserved for Trevor, she smirked. “Mr. Newsome, why does the law want your company?”

“You’re a brave lass. Well, young lady, I’ll answer your question if I could have your name, for proper addressing.”

Trevor interrupted, “I am Trevor Coffman, Mr. Newsome.”

Catherine could not stop her grin. Trevor’s defensive attitude reminded her of Killer Chicken.

“This young lady is Miss Catherine Randolph of Charleston and she is already spoken for. To my right are Mr. and Mrs. Garrett.”

“Thank you kindly, Mr. Coffman. You are a fortunate young man. Although, I noticed the surprised expression on your intended’s face. You might want to inform her of your proposal soon.” He laughed and then nodded to Ross and Joann, “Mr. and Mrs. Garrett, my pleasure. Now, to answer your question, Miss Randolph, the law is read differently in various regions of our fair land. In some parts of this country my Jewish heritage and practices are a thorn in the side of the law.” He sat down on the heavy blankets he had used and wrapped one around his shoulders. “Presumptions are often vicious. Isn’t that right, Mrs. Garrett?”

Joann had been sitting on the floor next to Ross. She turned her head from the group and buried her face against his chest in a hunt for protection.

“Listen here, Mr. Newsome, you’ll not insult my wife.”

“No insult intended, Mr. Garrett,” he held up his hand in a peaceful gesture. “I only meant to inquire on the well-being of a fellow sufferer.”

Trevor leaned forward to question Ross, “Is why the cook insulted her, because she’s African?”

“No, my friend,” Newsome answered before Ross could, “without knowing the cook of which you speak, I can tell from your delightful accent that you’re English and you and your countrymen are found of variety, more tolerant than most Americans, especially the back-wood type. That cook probably didn’t see her beauty. Only a few appreciate African or Jewish culture. Am I right, Mrs. Garrett?”

“She’s my “half-and-half” and I love her for it.” Ross protectively hugged her.

“Indeed, you do, my good man. Now folks, allow me to sooth this discussion by offering my meager supplies. Mr. Garrett, please explore that box you’re resting on. I’ve hidden some dried meats, cheese, carrots, and turnips. Help yourselves. I’ve already dined.” He leaned back and rested as the train rattled their bones toward Charleston.

Egad and Enough (for now)

Author Notes

January, yes. Start over? No. Waiting? Always. Hopeful wishes for 2022? Of course.

I am still creating draft #2 of my historical novel, Countess of Change (working title, I might use it). Currently at 29,500 words, draft #1 is approximately 60,000. I have noticed that my characters demand more: description, action, and creatively inserted backstory. Good Grief. I thought I was the boss.

I set a goal every morning of at least 500 words and sometimes, I pleasantly surprise myself with more.

My revised Gray Lace novel should return from her editor soon. Checking email twice a day. Hence the dreaded waiting. Once here, I’ll need to make major decisions. Mainly, will I accept all, some, or none of the expected changes. Pun intended. My Countess in the aforementioned work will be chuckling. You might as well.

When next we communicate, I plan to restart my Gray Lace installments. Part 31? Where Catherine is headed to her Charleston riding in a freight car with friends Joann, Ross, Lord Trevor Coffman, and new arrival, Jacob Newsome.

A final word about hopeful wishes … agents. I hope to begin what I’ve read is an arduous task of query writing.

Egad and Enough!