A LETTER - LIFE MAY NOT BE FAIR, BUT IT IS GOOD

post by Doris McCraw

writing as Angela Raines

Mother's Day 2021 looks a bit different from 2019 and even 2020. Yet what Mother's teach and give us is timeless. I've thought a lot about that over the last years as the pandemic upended so many lives. Maybe her words will resonate with you. If so, I know it would surprise her, but she would be so pleased her hard-won wisdom helped someone else.

Photo property of the Author

I lost my mother in February of 2011. I still miss her and thought I would share a letter she might have written to me about how to be a loving person and live in this world without letting it define or defeat me. So, Mom, I hope you are looking down and smiling for you were a great teacher.

Dear Daughter,

First, I want you to know how much I love you. I know as you travel this world there will be times when it will not seem worth it. Times when you just want to give up on yourself and the world. I taught you better than that. In case you have forgotten or perhaps need to have a handy reminder, I’ll share my thoughts about how to survive and thrive.

I will start with, forgive yourself. You won’t be able to forgive anyone else if you don’t know how to forgive yourself. I know you did some things that weren't necessarily good, but remember, you were doing the best you could at that time. That does not mean you get to repeat the mistake. To do so is only going to make you feel worse about yourself. Sweetheart, give yourself a break and get on with your life. Don’t let the past ruin your future.

Remember the story of Mr. Flemming’s father. He chose to not like a whole race of people, but would and did hire individuals. As long as those individuals worked for him, they were treated equally, including sitting at the table with everyone else. He would be angry if anyone made unflattering remarks. I’m not saying you should dislike a group of people. What I am saying is, respond to people as individuals. Do not let yourself get caught up in the rhetoric of 'if one, then all'. Treat others like you want to be treated, even when they don’t return the favor.

Get over the idea of “it’s not fair”. Life isn’t fair, but it is good. Life and living will be what you make it. When you get caught up in the ‘not fair’ mindset you miss so much of the wonderful parts of life. When you get down or are feeling put upon, give yourself ten minutes to feel sorry for yourself, then get up and do something productive. Let the hurt go. It may not be easy, that’s for sure. You can forgive and not forget. To hold onto hurt only hurts you, not the person who did the hurting. If they didn't care when the hurt happened, why would they care now? Think on that one for a while.

You can do or be whatever you want, just remember there are consequences. Consequences are not good or bad, they just are. You are totally responsible for the decisions you make about your life. Yes, you may have people who will help you, but you are the only one you have to live with your whole life. Make sure you’re the kind of person you want to be around.

I know there are many other ‘rules’ your could probably stand to hear, but these are good ones to help you survive and thrive. I wish you well, know I love you and whatever happens do your best to be happy, to be alive, for that is the true gift.

Love, Your Mother

My mother loved roses.
Photo property of the author

I know she was always so supportive of my creative work. I sometimes hear her voice when I've finished a novel or piece of history writing telling me, "I'm so proud of you."

Thanks Mom.

Doris Gardner-McCraw -

Author, Speaker, Historian-specializing in
Colorado and Women's History

Angela Raines - author: Where Love & History Meet

For a list of Angela Raines Books: Here 

(c) 2021 Doris McCraw   All Rights Reserved

EVER HEARD OF MUMMY BATS? #BlogABookScene #westernfiction

I wanted to share a scene that fits Halloween from my story "Chasing A Chance".  In this scene, Edwin is helping a young man deliver his fathers coffin to the rail station. They are confronted by a group of men who want to open the coffin.

Junior bristled, an angry retort forming. Edwin placed a placating hand on the young man's shoulder. "You're welcome to have a look, but I have to warn you the body's getting pretty ripe."

The man looked at Edwin, trying to decide if he was serious or fooling. There was also that hint of having seen him somewhere before. "Ken, take a peek," he ordered.

Junior almost came off the seat. Instead he gritted, "If you must, since some 'rock breaking' types like you killed him."

The air grew tense. Edwin realized Junior had said the one thing that could set off a powder keg. That some of these men were criminals was a real possibility, but if those same men took a notion, well, he and Junior, they'd be losers. Edwin was wishing he was carrying a gun now, but if he were, he would be perceived as a threat. This way, he might be able to talk the tension down.

"Can't blame him," Edwin nodded toward Junior, "hard thing to lose a father, let alone having to open the casket. How about I help Ken take his look, just in case some mummy bats come flying out?"

"What the hell you talking about?" Ken asked, his eyes puzzled and a bit scared. "There ain't no such thing as a mummy bat."

Edwin decided it might be best if he could keep the group off balance, so he continued with his story. "Well, there's some would say there's no such thing, but it's real, I can tell you that. When someone's died and left out in the elements like this man was, well the bats they just attach themselves, bury themselves right in. Over time, they die off, but if you open the box... well they just might naturally think it's time to come back to life. Why I've known some who could live in a casket for years."

While Edwin was talking, he could see most were skeptical, but a couple of the others looked to be turning green. Maybe he could get them scared enough, and some folks were mighty scared of bats, perhaps they'd leave without disturbing the dead. He liked Junior and didn't want things to get any worse.

"Okay," the man grinned at the story, then became serious. "While I admit some of the boys may have crossed the law, they're okay now. But bats? Where'd you get such a story?"

Edwin kept his face as blank as he could. "It's a tale that made the rounds in the war. Seems some of the bodies made noises and started moving. Then at night things started flying around and … and as you know, most stories do have an element of truth."

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Doris Gardner-McCraw -

Author, Speaker, Historian-specializing in
Colorado and Women's History

Member of National League of American Pen Women,

Women Writing the West,

Pikes Peak Posse of the Westerners

Western Fictioneers

Angela Raines - author: Where Love & History Meet

For a list of Angela Raines Books: Here 

Photo and Poem: Click Here 

Angela Raines FaceBook: Click Here

ANIMALS and ANGELS "Angel of Salvation Valley" #BlogABookScene

The theme for September's Blog A Book Scene is: Critters and Creatures

The novella, "Angel of Salvation Valley" both the 'dog' and 'cat' play a small but important role in the story. The hero, 'Drew' Carson has made a deal to kill the woman who owns Salvation Valley to secure his release from prison. Of course things are not always are they seem. Thanks to Gabe the cat and the dog Rafe, things start to become more clear. But how to keep from going back to prison? 

Amazon ebook, purchase here

Excerpt from "Angel of Salvation Valley":

Drew started to move from the top of the ridge when he noticed movement in the western area of the valley. Intrigued, he stopped. Coming toward him was a lithe, dark–haired woman. Her movements were easy, as were those of the huge brown and black dog cavorting beside her. Sweet laughter filled the air as she bent to speak to the dog.

"Looks quite the storm over toward the north, Rafe," her voice carrying clearly across the valley to where he was hiding. "Good thing we have a snug place to stay. Still, it would be easier if I didn't have to do everything myself."

The dog looked at her, shook his head and sneezed.

"What's that you say, you help me?" The words drifted up, followed by another peal of golden laughter.

Drew found his heart responding, it'd been so long since anyone around him had expressed such joy. It was bittersweet, for it reminded him of his mother. Shaking his head to clear those thoughts away, he returned his gaze to the woman and dog. He had no business finding anything nice about this woman, if in fact she was the one. Logic told him she was; he instinctively wanted it otherwise. He was here to kill her and gain his freedom, nothing was more important to him than that. Still, a piece of his heart was softening.

"Who's coming?" the woman asked, her hand cradling the dog's head.

Drew looked to see if there was anyone else. Nothing. Then out of the corner of his eye a big black streak was racing toward the woman. Drew couldn't believe his eyes, the biggest black cat he'd ever seen rushed out of the end of the valley. He knew of no black mountain lions in Colorado, but here one was, and it was huge. He pulled his pistol out, but knew it wouldn't be effective at this range. Still he couldn't let it kill the woman. Or could he? It would make his job easier, he could go back and say she was dead and get on with his life. But that would be lying, and he didn't lie, and wasn't about to start now.

While he was debating with himself, the cat moved in much faster than he'd believed possible. He started to shout, but the cat stopped, the woman calling to it.

"So that's who Rafe meant," the woman cooed to the cat. "Good to see you Gabe." Right before his eyes the cat yawned, rolled over, the woman scratching its stomach and back. The whole scene was becoming stranger and stranger. The more he watched, the more he realized he had not been told the whole story about this woman. Still, that shouldn't stop him from keeping his bargain. But things were not adding up. He needed to find out for sure if she was the one, but how?

"Yes, I know you are an angel Gabe, and you too Rafe," she giggled. "Do I trust you, but of course," she continued.

The woman turned toward the rise. "Since you haven't tried to kill me, you must have questions," the woman called. "If you want, come on down and ask, I'll answer whatever questions you may have."

Drew looked around to see who she was talking to. Seeing no one, he wondered if she had lost her mind and was imagining things? He knew he was well hidden, so who was she speaking to?

"You may think you're hidden well, but Gabe saw you earlier."

Until next time, Happy Reading and enjoy the day!

Doris Gardner-McCraw -

Author, Speaker, Historian-specializing in
Colorado and Women's History

Member of National League of American Pen Women,

Women Writing the West,

Pikes Peak Posse of the Westerners

Angela Raines - author: Where Love & History Meet

For a list of Angela Raines Books: Here 

Photo and Poem: Click Here 

Angela Raines FaceBook: Click Here

Just Made It #BlogABookScene

SO, the July's theme was:

Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer

Descriptors: summertime, sun, beach, water, ice cream social, box supper, starry nights, swimming, swimming hole, summer sports and activities, long days, sitting on the porch swing, lemonade, fishing

Amazon-Purchase Here

In "Never Had A Chance", the hero, Tom, is attending Maria's birthday/July4 celebration.

"Are you ready to dance with me?" she asked.

Tom softly replied, pushing his cane out in front of him, "I don't think the doctor would approve."

"Very well, I shall keep you company until the dance is over," Maria declared, unwilling to let the chance pass to spend time with him. And if things went well, she would be very happy.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? I don't think your father would approve. He may have accepted that I didn't try to harm you or himself, but he still doesn't trust me," Tom replied as he moved slowly away from Maria.

The farther he moved away, the closer she moved toward him, until her hand shot out, covering the one holding the cane.

"Come, at least you can eat, can you not?" Maria smiled, leading Tom slowly through the crowd toward the food tables.

The closer they came, the more Tom realized he really was hungry. He'd held back, concern for his hesitant host, keeping him from even remotely enjoying himself. It took the determined young woman at his side to pull him out of his self–imposed solitude.

"This all looks and smells so good. I do think there are some new things here for me to try." Tom laughed.

"Then I shall be your guide, answer any questions you may have. But first, you must have one of the green corn fritters, since you did not eat them when I brought them to your room," Maria grinned, pulling the food from the small basket she picked up from a servant. "They are from a family recipe, and I made them myself," just for you, she thought, as he took a bite.

Until next time!

Doris Gardner-McCraw -

Author, Speaker, Historian-specializing in
Colorado and Women's History

Member of National League of American Pen Women,

Women Writing the West,

Pikes Peak Posse of the Westerners

Angela Raines - author: Where Love & History Meet

For a list of Angela Raines Books: Here 

Photo and Poem: Click Here 

Angela Raines FaceBook: Click Here

"LOST KNIGHT" #BlogABookScene #medieval #medievalromance @prairierosepub

So this month's theme is: On the Road Again

travel, journey, escape, runaway, being chased, fight or flight, getaway chase, bank robbery, train robbery, cattle drive, voyage, stagecoach/train/airplane travel, hiking, vacation, summer camp

In this case of this story, it is a combination of journey, escape, fight and flight. The story told in "Lost Knight" a novella published by Prairie Rose Publications, the hero Jack awakens in medieval Germany. He was killed in 2009, but his story was far from over. 

Join me in this scene from the beginning of "Lost Knight-Out of Time".

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Pain…mind-numbing, blinding pain… Jack felt as though a hot poker was being thrust through his 

chest. Gasping for air, he opened his eyes. He found himself surrounded by mist, and the muddy, 

fishy smell of water. Nothing was familiar. The need to find where he was reigned foremost in his mind. The enemy could be anywhere, although Jack didn't remember any water being near his last location. Slowly, he lifted his head and upper body just enough to look over the stone wall.

 "I don't remember any wall," Jack whispered to himself. The structure was only about two feet high, and beyond was a small, running river—a creek, really. The banks were lined with trees, so close together they created a wall themselves. Lying back, Jack noticed the stones, placed one on top of the other, with no mortar holding them in place. Nothing was familiar; not the wall, not the smell, not the surroundings. His training kept the panic at bay, but just barely.

"Where?" he whispered, fearful of who or what might be just around the bend of the creek or in the trees opposite where he lay. Sounds were muted. The river lapped against the shore; the sound, a rhythm, a never ceasing beat. Raising his head, he examined his surroundings in greater detail. Overgrowth. There had not been any of this in the desert where he'd been. This foliage was green, dense with the smell of old dirt and decaying leaves from many seasons. His mind focused on the sound of the creek, so like the one he'd played in as a child. Still, his senses refused to accept anything he was seeing.

Not only where, but Jack sensed a 'when' in the equation. Regaining his equilibrium, he realized nothing was familiar. Thinking back, Jack tried to remember where he had been before the pain urged him awake.

Images of Pete floated across his mind. The two of them sharing a smoke, talking about their friend, Frank, and his efforts to get a tooth pulled.

 "Remember how Frank was so desperate he brought you a pair of pliers and begged you to pull his tooth?" Pete asked. 

"I do," Jack had said, "and when I put the pliers in his mouth he screamed and ran away."

 The two of them had laughed themselves silly. Then, he remembered the blossom of red that started across Pete's chest…immediately followed by a sting to his own chest. So this is how it feels, Jack thought. I'm not ready.

He was dead wasn't he? 

Jack had no sooner realized he was supposed to be dead when he was greeted by three men, dressed in what looked like Renaissance costumes. They wore tunics, with light chainmail. Jack put his hand to his chest, realizing he was also dressed like the three men. What? Jack thought, only to be interrupted by a question from the group.

"Ho, friend Jacques, what happened to you?" cried the first. "We may be free knights, but we work together," the man continued.

"Yes, Jacques, why did you wander off?" questioned the second.

Jack looked around, wondering who they were speaking to. It sounded like his name, but more like the French would say it.

"Come, my friend, surely the wound you suffered did not affect your mind?" said the third.

Wound? Was a kill shot just a wound? Was this what hell was like? Jack wondered. "

Doris Gardner-McCraw -

Author, Speaker, Historian-specializing in
Colorado and Women's History

Member of National League of American Pen Women,

Women Writing the West,

Pikes Peak Posse of the Westerners,

Western Fictioneers

Angela Raines - author: Where Love & History Meet

For a list of Angela Raines Books: Here 

Photo and Poem: Click Here 

Angela Raines FaceBook: Click Here

BEWARE THE JOKE #BlogABookScene #PrairieRosePublicaton @prairierosepub @rewnawomyn1

Mayday, Mayday!..the call for help, but how can you when you were fool enough to fall into the trap.

This months #BlogABookScene is all about being in a tight spot, needing help, danger, rescue, natural disaster, menace, hazard, risk, peril, threat, jeopardy, medical emergency, war, skirmish, battle, gunfight, sword fight. In Tom's case, from "Never Had A Chance"   published by Prairie Rose Publications, once he fell for the practical joke that turned deadly, he had to try to repair what happened, but he has no memory of any of the events. Does he need help!

Click Here to Purchase

From "Never Had A Chance"

"Where you taking me?" Tom asked again.

"To see Mary, she's one of the special girls," Pete replied.

Slowly the two helped Tom up the steps, knocking on the door and walking backwards into the shadow. The two made it into the darkness just as the door opened. Light streaming out from the door outlined a young girl, a girl with curves and substance.

"You must be Mary," Tom said, looking into intelligent and curious brown eyes. "I'm supposed to see you." With those words, he grabbed at the girl, throwing his arms around her. Faintly he heard laughter and snickers behind him. Heard, but they were not registering. The only thing that registered was the feel of this young girl in his arms, with a figure made to be held. He bent his head taking her lips in a kiss.

As the kiss deepened, Tom wondered if this was how his brother–in–law felt when he kissed his sister. Tom gloried in the beauty of what was happening, then the realization hit him that this girl was not one of the 'ladies' as he'd been led to believe. He found himself quickly sobering up. Then this girl, whatever her name was, pushed against his chest. At the same time, Tom heard a man's voice calling, "Maria, who is it?"

Letting loose of her, Tom moved back, shame coloring his face. He pulled his hat from his head, lowering his eyes to the girl, "I'm sorry," he started when he heard the voices behind him.

"There the bastard is," Pete whispered.

"We'll get him this time," responded George, as the click of hammers reached Tom's ears.

Tom, at first confused, saw an older Spanish gentleman move toward the door, then realized the man was a target. Fear for the girl and the man completed his sobering process as he pushed her toward the man and, drawing his own gun, stepped in front of both.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" challenged Tom just as the two guns flashed out of the dark. He felt a double blow, but managed to get his own gun into play, firing at the flashes. He went to give chase, and managed to get down the first two steps when his right leg gave out.

"Damn, I've been taken for a sucker, and I don't…," Tom started saying, then his head hit the ground, bouncing off a rock, then nothing but darkness.

Doris Gardner-McCraw - Author, Speaker, Historian-specializing in

Colorado and Women's History

Member of National League of American Pen Women,

Women Writing the West,

Pikes Peak Posse of the Westerners and

Western Fictioneers

Angela Raines - author: Where Love & History Meet

For a list of Angela Raines Books: Here 

Photo and Poem: Click Here 

Angela Raines FaceBook: Click Here

APRIL SHOWERS-NEW BEGINNINGS Blog A Book Scene

April Showers, the beginning of spring, new, rain and so much more. In this months #BlogABook Scene, I thought of new love, new beginnings. In the story "Never Had A Chance" the hero was wounded and lost his memory after a cruel trick that had him at the door of a proper young lady. Now, he is an invalid trying to piece the pieces of his life together. The proper young lady has other ideas for his future.

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Maria stared at the sky. Blue, a turquoise blue that appeared artificial. Clouds slowly traveled from north to south, covering and uncovering the golden light from the sun as she watched out the window. She was in the kitchen making the green corn fritters. With each step in the process, she remembered her mother showing her how they were made.

"I made these for your father, little one, when I decided to marry him."

"Did he want to marry you?" Maria had asked.

"No, it took a bit of persuading, but in the end he was glad he pursued me," her mother laughed.

"How did you know, and why green corn fritters?" Maria had wanted to know.

"I knew the minute I saw him that he was the one for me. And the fritters, they are an old family recipe, and if you make them with love, the one who eats them loves you back."

Join me again in May when the theme will be: Mayday! Mayday! Until then, happy reading and don't forget to check out all the other great snippets for March and #BlogABookScene.

Doris Gardner-McCraw

Author, Speaker, Historian-specializing in
Colorado and Women's History

Member of National League of American Pen Women,

Women Writing the West,

Pikes Peak Posse of the Westerners

Angela Raines - author: Where Love & History Meet

For a list of Angela Raines Books: Here 

Photo and Poem: Click Here 

Angela Raines FaceBook: Click Here