LouIsa: Iron Dove of the Frontier by Will Edwinson Genre: Western Historical Fiction
THE IRON DOVE OF THE FRONTIER… At twenty-one, LouIsa was already a sagacious woman. She had been privileged to attend finishing schools in the East where she learned the ways of “Ladyship” and studied piano under the tutorship of masters, becoming proficient with the classical works of Mozart, Bach, Chopin, Beethoven, Liszt, and many others. LouIsa: Iron Dove of the Frontier is a story about a tough, but well- educated genteel woman of quiet strength who, when it became necessary, could get down and dirty and fight as adeptly as the best gutter rats. But also, when necessary, she could don a party dress and be perfectly comfortable with Vassar graduates. Add to GoodreadsAmazon * B&N * Kobo
Buddy… His Trials and Treasures by Will Edwinson Genre: Contemporary Historical Fiction
Do you need a little stress relief in your life? Travel back to the world of Buddy Crawford, a simpler, slower- paced world where Cokes were a nickel, movie tickets were a dime, and ten cents bought you a double dip ice cream cone. These engaging, award-winning stories about a young boy growing up in rural America during the 1940s provide a relaxing respite from today’s fast-paced world. They may even revive old memories of your own childhood. Follow Buddy and Cousin Mont as they gather beer and pop bottles from the roadway barrowpits. Join him and his friends at the river swimming hole for a swim, or go fishing for carp in the irrigation canal. Experience the fun as he tours the countryside in an old Model T Ford with his friends. What better way to spend a relaxing two hours than immersing yourself in these stories. Buddy is somewhat reminiscent of Tom Sawyer in that he quite often finds himself in hot water. Unlike Tom, Buddy’s misdeeds are without forethought. They happen because Buddy is…well…he’s just Buddy. Add to GoodreadsAmazon * B&N * Website
Will Edwinson is an award-winning story teller for his fiction, and an award winning columnist. His second book, Buddy … His Trials and Treasures, won a first place in state competition, and a second place at national. His “A Bit Of Nostalgia” column that he wrote under another name, won second and first place, awards in two separate competitions from the Utah-Idaho-Spokane Associated Press Association. Edwinson grew up in rural Southeast Idaho during the 1940s. After his college stint, he made his living on the family farm in Southeast Idaho as a dry land farmer raising barley and wheat, always holding onto the dream he had harbored for most of his life-that of being a writer-but still not confident that he had the necessary abilities and skills for such a career. After reaching mid-life, he determined that if he were ever going to be a writer, it was time to begin. His first book was launched when he was in his mid-fifties. Edwinson is basically a self-taught author. His passion lay toward storytelling, so he began reading fiction of every genre to get a grasp of different writing styles and writing techniques. He also took advantage of the many books and manuals on writing that were available. These are mentioned on his Links & Lists page at his website, www.willedwinson.com. He is also a graduate of Writer’s Digest Short Story Writing course. In his younger years, Edwinson was also a semi-professional singer, performing on stages from Sun Valley, Idaho, to Lake Havasu City, Arizona. He also demonstrates a flair as an inventor. Out of necessity,to teach his two youngest daughters some rudimentary money management skills, he invented and Trademarked a children’s allowance management system, “The Child’s Checkmaster.” which enabled parents and children to keep better track of the children’s allowance draws and which also taught the children some rudimentary money management skills. Will Edwinson currently lives in Tucson, Arizona. Website * Facebook * Twitter * Amazon * Goodreads
Prologue
Tombstone, Arizona, March 18, 1882.
The pistol roared, the assailant heard Morgan cry out, “What the hell…?” and then saw him fall
face down on the pool table.
“We finally got you, you law dawg son of a bitch.” Pete Spencer stood trembling outside the
poolroom, the smoking gun still in his hand as he uttered the words quietly to himself.
Before he made his escape, he glanced through the window at the stunned crowd. His action
had caught them completely off guard. Not one of them suspected what he might be up to
when he quietly removed himself from the poolroom earlier that evening.
With two people on each side of his collapsed body, they carefully lifted Morgan off the pool
table and laid him on his back on the floor.
“Go fetch LouIsa,” one of them said. Another said, “Better get Wyatt and Virgil too, and the
Doc. I don’t think Morgan has much of a chance of makin’ it, but he’s still alive and needs a
doc.”
Louisa was cradling Morgan’s head in her lap when Wyatt entered the room. He knelt beside his
brother; his vision blurred from the tears that welled in his eyes. He blinked to fight them back;
his gut wrenched. When his eyes finally focused, he looked around the room.
“Who did this?” he asked. “Did anyone see who did the actual shooting?”
One man spoke up and said, “I didn’t actually see the shootin’, but I did see Pete Spencer leave
the poolroom about a half hour before Morgan was shot.”
“Come to think about it,” said another, I saw the little weasel sneak out of here m’self.”
“But none of you actually saw Spencer fire the shot,” Wyatt said. It was more of a statement
than a question. They all agreed, none could swear to seeing the shooting.
Wyatt looked at LouIsa. He agonized at the pain he saw in her eyes, and the tortured
expression on her face. He sensed she was in another time, another place. He reached out and
lightly touched her shoulder.
LouIsa looked up at him. Again, he saw her pain. “Come, LouIsa,” he said, “I’ll have someone
escort you home.
She heard nothing of what he said. She was aware only of her own thoughts. She continued to
hug her husband and rub his face softly with her hand, her mind engulfed in her own private
thoughts.
Why, Morgan, why? You said you would hang up your guns if I accompanied you to Tombstone.
Why couldn’t you have stayed out of the law business like you promised? If you had stuck to
prospecting or gambling, this would never have happened. But when you saw the lawlessness
that was here, I guess I should’ve known better than to think that you could let it stand without
trying to do something about it. And then worst of all, my darling, you forgot the last thing I
told you before you walked out of the house tonight. ‘Don’t turn your back on anyone.’
She nestled him closer to her bosom. Morgan had been unconscious the whole time and knew
nothing of what she had been thinking. She heard a gurgle come from his throat and felt him
give one last desperate gasp for air. She realized he had just died in her lap.
She loved this man who lay in her lap more than life itself. She had only longed to devote
herself to living for one man building a life with him and raising a family in a little cabin with
flowers and a white picket fence. Her health had prevented her from having a family, and now
the rest of her dream had just been shattered by an assassin’s bullet.
LouIsa was part Cherokee Indian, and it was now that she needed the inner strength that her
Cherokee grandmother had instilled in her. She never let LouIsa forget that part of her heritage
as she taught her the ways of her people. Cherokee life was hard; their women had to be
strong.
LouIsa broke into a soft wailing of the mourning song of her Cherokee people, and as she
mourned her husband’s death, she relived the last several years.
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this cover is intriguing