For many years, Cripple Creek’s high valley, at an elevation of 9,494 feet (2,894 m), was considered no more important than a cattle pasture. Many prospectors avoided the area after the Mount Pisgah hoax, a mini gold rush caused by salting (adding gold to worthless rock).[8]
On 20 October 1890, Robert Miller “Bob” Womack discovered a rich ore and the last great Colorado gold rush began. By July 1891, a post office was established. By November, hundreds of prospectors were camping in the area. Rather than investing in mines, Denver realtors Horace Bennett and Julius Myers sought wealth by platting 80 acres of land for a townsite which they named Fremont. The town consisted of 30 platted blocks containing 766 lots. Each lot sold for $25 and $50 for corner lots. Within a year, the lots value increased and sold for at least $250 each. Months later, investors from Colorado Springs platted 140 acres near Fremont and called their town Hayden Placer. Bennett and Myers filed another plat near the Broken Box Ranch and named it Cripple Creek. The towns’ combined population total 600-800 people by the end of 1891. By 1892, the Cripple Creek Mining District name had caught on and in June 1892, the post office assigned the Cripple Creek name to Fremont, Hayden Placer, and Cripple Creek and all the settlements became known as one. From 1892, Bennett and Myers oversaw the Fremont Electric Light and Power Company. The district’s first telephone was established in 1893. Thousands of prospectors flocked to the district, and before long Winfield Scott Stratton located the famous Independence lode, one of the largest gold strikes in history. In three years, the population increased from five hundred to ten thousand. The Palace Hotel and the Windsor Hotel were so full that chairs were rented out to be slept on for $1 a night. Although $500 million worth of gold ore was dug from Cripple Creek and more than 30 millionaires were produced since its mining heyday, Womack was not among them. Having sold his claim for $500 and a case of whiskey, he died penniless on 10 August 1909.[9] By 1892, Cripple Creek was home to 5,000 people with another 5,000 in the nearby towns of Victor, Elton, Goldfield, Independence, Alton, and Strong. As people arrived, the marshal greeted them and confiscated their firearms, which were then sold in Denver to pay for the salary of the teachers of Cripple Creek.
This is a typical scene not only near Cripple Creek but all over Colorado. Colorado moves mountains! Literally. Strip mining for gold has long been done, at least back to 1992 when I saw strip mining in action. Not sure how I feel about it.
Mike and Mary at Double Eagle casino in Cripple Creek!
Meet Cocoa and Cream, the amazing twin ponies with wild, untamed manes! They are anything but ordinary. Cocoa and Cream have a big dream: to teach little kids how to ride and help them discover their incredible potential. Join Cocoa and Cream, and discover the countless ways these special ponies help kids like you reach their goals!
My Review:
Meet Cocoa and Cream, the amazing twin ponies with wild, untamed manes! They are anything but ordinary. Cocoa and Cream have a big dream: to teach little kids how to ride and help them discover their incredible potential. Join Cocoa and Cream, and discover the countless ways these special ponies help kids like you reach their goals!
…a passionate romance with an exciting plot… Anita Hartsell, Romance Reader At Heart
Royce Weston knows firsthand women are exceptional liars… especially the one who has wormed her way into his family’s good graces by claiming amnesia. Since Paige didn’t heed his advice at the poker tables, he reasons a bit of ‘friendly’ persuassion is needed to send her packing. But when she matches him trick for trick and has his ranch hands jumping to please her, Royce realizes she is no simpering miss. Sassy and daring; if only she’d give him a reason to trust her…
Paige Morgan knows Royce despises her. But on his family’s ranch, populated entirely by men, he seems to be the only one who knows about her past… a past she can’t remember. Until he tells her what he knows, she isn’t going anywhere. And if along the way she manages to tame this rough and tough cowboy, so much the better. Any girl will tell you it’s not how you play your cards. It’s the Luck of the Draw that counts.
My Review:
Wow! If you love the old west, outlaws, and all things western in your romance book, then look no further. Lance has written a memorable novel. This one has it all.
For over a thousand years, Ephesus, on the Aegean coast of what is now Turkey, was a thriving city. It was the site of the Temple of Artemis, one of the Wonders of the World, and a destination for religious pilgrimage long before the advent of Christianity. In the first century CE, St. John and St. Paul introduced Christianity to Ephesus, where it survived its turbulent beginnings and, in the fifth century CE, hosted the God-defining Council of Ephesus.
Life and Death in Ephesus is a collection of stories about major events in the history of Ephesus. Characters appearing in these stories include Herostratus, first to commit a “herostratic crime”; Alexander, the warrior king; Julius Caesar and Mark Antony, both lovers of Cleopatra; Heraclitus, the philosopher who said, “You can’t put your foot in the same river twice”; St. Paul, persona non grata in Ephesus; Nestorius, whose characterization of Jesus split the Eastern and Western church, and others, also important, whose names I have had to make up.
Hilke Thür, a leading archeologist, has said of these stories, “Life and Death in Ephesus will be a delightful and enjoyable accompaniment to the many available guidebooks. Not just tourists, but anyone interested in history will benefit from reading them.”
Excerpt 1 from Life and Death in Ephesus
From “Herostratus.”
It was hot and the dusty air in the distance was barely transparent. From the Acropolis I could see the flash of polished metal sent by lookouts on rocky promontories. He was coming as predicted, right on time. At first there was no sound, then the dull beat of a drum, and then the shush-shush of tramping feet, felt as much through the ground as heard through the air. As they emerged from the mist, other sounds became distinct, shouted commands of no meaning to us observers, an occasional trumpet, the whinny of a horse. Alexander on horseback led the way; it had to be him, followed by two chariots side by side, and then by a troop of cavalry, jostling close together and clinking as they came toward us. The road brought them to the edge of town directly below our hill. The two chariots advanced to flank Alexander and separate him from the young men who were running alongside, causing older, more cautious citizens to pull the youths away from the wheels of the chariots. Behind the mounted leaders—Alexander’s famous companions—and the cavalry, came a regiment of infantry, resplendent in white and red tunics, their elongated pikes forming a dense and perfectly angled forest of polished wood above their heads, their shields across their chests. There must have been a thousand men, more than a thousand, in the regiment. I watched them wheel to the left, then separate according to some well-rehearsed plan, completely surrounding Alexander in orderly rows before they came to a halt. There they waited until wagons pulled by mules and loaded with all the paraphernalia of war overtook them. I saw them break ranks and cluster their long pikes in upright rows. Almost immediately the limp canvas of tents began to appear and take shape along the same straight rows. I looked again for Alexander, but he and his companions had disappeared into one of the tents.
Finlay McQuade is a retired educator. He was born in Ireland, went to high school in England, and university in the USA. He has a BA in English from Pomona College, an MA in British and American literature from Harvard University, and a PhD in education from the University of Pittsburgh, where he also taught writing courses in the English department. He spent some happy years as a high school English teacher and soccer coach, but after co-authoring the book How to Make a Better School he found himself in demand as a consultant to schools and school improvement projects in the USA and often, also, abroad. He ended his career in education when he retired from Bogazici University in Istanbul, where he had mentored young teachers in the school of education.
For eight years after retirement, he lived in Selcuk, Turkey, among the ruins of the ancient city of Ephesus. The streets and squares of Ephesus became his neighborhood. His companions included archeologists, tour guides, and souvenir sellers. His curiosity about the people who had lived in those empty buildings for over a thousand years resulted in Life and Death in Ephesus, a collection of stories chronicling major events in the city’s history.
Now, back in the USA with time on his hands, he finds himself returning again and again to memories of his boyhood on the coast of Northern Ireland. The result of these forays into his past will be another collection of stories, part memoir, part fiction, called Growing Up in Ulster.
A new constellation of wisdom and healing that is modern and timeless.
Word by word, the poetic method and wisdom of Wendy E. Slater will radiate into your soul, and liberate you from constraints of self-blame and judgment.
“Wendy has an unusual perspective on so many things, her writing pictures the differences that keep us from ourselves and others. Be careful. This just might change your life.” – Reader Review
“Her themes are unpretentiously cardinal: love, yearning, cleansing, and escaping.” – Reader Review
Be transformed by these modern mystical poetic formulas and allow the heart-fire of her wisdom to take your soul on a journey… to transform, release and transmute you into remembering your authentic self and your inner wisdom.
“A most wonderful read! Wendy Slater writes with the energy of a tidal wave and is galvanized by the simple things in life that often go unnoticed.” – Reader Review
My Review
This book of poetry is sensational as the reader is easily drawn into each verse, as they can change into another dimension with ease. Vivid reality of wild animals, love, creation, and more meld together for a five star book.
New York, 1904. After two years as a coroner’s physician for the city of New York, Daniel O’Halleran is more frustrated than ever. What’s the point when the authorities consistently brush aside his findings for the sake of expediency? So when his fiancée leaves him standing at the altar on their wedding day, he takes it as a sign that it’s time to move on and eagerly accepts an offer to assist the local coroner in the small Long Island village of Patchogue.
Though the coroner advises him that life on Long Island is far more subdued than that of the city, Daniel hasn’t been there a month when the pretty librarian, Kathleen Brissedon, asks him to look into a two-year-old murder case that took place in the city. Oddly enough, the case she’s referring to was the first one he ever worked on, and the verdict never sat right with him.
Eager for the chance to investigate it anew, Daniel agrees to look into it in his spare time, but when a fresh murder occurs in his own backyard, he can’t shake his gut feeling that the two cases are connected. Can he discover the link before another life is taken, or will murder shake the peaceful South Shore village once again?
Buy Links:
This title is available to read with #KindleUnlimited.
I had a lot of fun researching the style of clothing my characters would wear. Gone were the hooped petticoats of the mid-nineteenth century, and though the S-silhouette of the 1880s was still prevalent, it had lost the cumbersome bustle and softened up a bit, flowing down into a more bell-shaped skirt.
During the day, the style was still high necklines and long sleeves, though the mutton sleeve had given way to the puffed shoulder, and the skirts tended to just graze the ground or perhaps have a slight train. The bodices were loose and flouncy, especially in the front, even if they did still cover a corset. Kathleen might have even worn a lightweight gown of linen for her meeting in the garden with Daniel.
For a visit to the village, however, she would likely have worn a bit more tailored gown, though the frame would be the same. Separates made an appearance at the end of the 1890s with the popularity of the Gibson Girl look. With more and more women going out to work, the need developed for outfits that were practical and yet fashionable at the same time. This style of mixing and matching skirts and blouses continued into the early twentieth century, allowing women to appear to have more outfits than they actually did.
The appearance of department stores, like Sweezey and Newins in Patchogue, and ready-made clothing also continued into the new century, allowing the purchase and expansion of a young lady’s wardrobe. Many skillful young women might even copy the designs for themselves and make their own outfits.
Evening wear was much the same as the day dress, though there were a few notable differences. Necklines tended to be lower and sleeves shorter. Many times long gloves would be worn to cover the arms in the absence of longer sleeves. These evening dresses also tended to have a small train and were made of finer materials and sported even more embellishments than the day dress.
Wherever a lady went, however, a glove, hat, and purse of some sort, were expected to be part of her ensemble. Hair would generally be piled on top of her head in an elaborate bun that puffed out in a pompadour. Many times “rats” were used to achieve the desired effect. Don’t worry, in this case rats were simply matted pads or rolls of hair. Voluminous hairstyles were needed to support the hats that grew larger as the decade progressed.
Another notable aspect of the Edwardian age, was an outfit for every activity, at least where one could afford it, and even a young woman from the middle class would strive to have at least one outfit for leisure activities. Bicycling, of course, had gained in popularity in the late 19th century, and out of necessity, bloomers had replaced skirts. By the Edwardian period, however, the bloomer had given way to split skirts that rose to mid-calf, and in many cases, jackets were being set aside in lieu of just wearing a blouse. Large hats, too, were laid aside for play, and either replaced by smaller hats known as boaters or an elaborate hairstyle. The Victorian standards were indeed easing.
One of the most notable changes was to be in the bathing costume. While ladies were still required to wear black stockings to cover their legs in 1904, other aspects of the suits were beginning to change. The forerunner of the one-piece bathing suit had made an entry at the end of the 19th century, consisting of a blouse and bloomers. Over these a skirt was worn for modesty. During the Edwardian age, however, the skirts and bloomers lost much of their volume and began to rise to above the knee. Sleeves started to shorten as well and necklines dipped. But the wearing of the overskirt was just a breath away from being discarded altogether as bathing for pleasure, instead of simply to wash, gained in popularity. Of course, older ladies continued to wear the bathing dress for a number of years, but the younger generation embraced the new fashions. Within another ten years, the tight restrictions of the Victorian era would be a thing of the past, and it all started with the Edwardians.
Author Bio:
I. M. Foster is the pen name author Inez Foster uses to write her South Shore Mystery series, set on Edwardian Long Island. Inez also writes historical romances under the pseudonym Andrea Matthews, and has so far published two series in that genre: the Thunder on the Moor series, a time-travel romance set on the 16th century Anglo-Scottish Borders, and the Cross of Ciaran series, which follows the adventures of a fifth century Celt who finds himself in love with a twentieth century archaeologist.
Inez is a historian and librarian, who love to read and write and search around for her roots, genealogically speaking. She has a BA in History and an MLS in Library Science and enjoys the research almost as much as she does writing the story. In fact, many of her ideas come to her while doing casual research or digging into her family history. Inez is a member of the Long Island Romance Writers, the Historical Novel Society, and Sisters in Crime.
It’s Christmas Eve and Gita has a special evening planned for her parents and sister. Neel will be there too. The evening starts with a note of warmth and hope and ends with a special surprise. And of course, there’s the dose of drama that Gita had expected. This short story is the third and final one in Gita and Neel’s journey.
My Review
This short story is proof that a lot can happen in one day. A married couple with expensive jewelry and status in society, yet are they happy? A couple that live together in “sin” ~ are they happy with life? Parents blind to the needs of two children.
When Merry Mitchell discovers that her husband is hiding assets in preparation to dumping her for a younger woman, she is filled with hurt and rage. Having toiled her way up from poverty, she will do nearly anything to avoid being poor again. She considers an immediate divorce, but quickly realizes that with her sons now of age, she won’t get the house or enough of a settlement to allow her to continue her pleasant life style. After several efforts to save the marriage, she gives up, deciding that her husband must die. Merry’s ideas for spouse removal are limited by the sophisticated methods of detection used by law officials. She wracks her mind to find a method that is both undetectable and supposedly accidental. And, to assuage her troublesome conscience, the attempt must give him a sporting chance of survival. How should she do it…
My Review
Murder. Murder your cheating husband who stashed away huge chunks of assets to deceive you and thus receiving hardly any support money wise? 💰 I laughed hard in many places. Sperling has a funny, sad, romantic, murder in thought, but really? I would not murder my husband, but he’d be paying me the big bucks! I Loved this novel!!
Life on Molly is a travel and lifestyle blog. I am a normal girl with many passions. I am an explorer of new places, a learner of new languages, creator of my ambitions, blogger, and a good pal. This blog is my little corner of the world where I am able to share my adventures with you and inspire you to live a life full of purpose.
When Angels Fly 