Blog Archives
Defiant Author Moves, Avoids Censorship
Well, that’s a little dramatic, I suppose. But I did want to let y’all know about my new website which now also hosts my blog. Truthfully, though, I did make this move to stay one step ahead of the censors and the Cancel Cultures loons.
When I see the president of the United States muzzled because some socialist geeks at Twitter don’t like him, when I see every day people lose their jobs because they say something politically incorrect, when I see the lamestream media flat-out lie about the violent protests in cities across America–I’m done. I will own my own piece of the internet and speak my mind.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t live in La-La Land. Eventually, Google will attempt to bury conservative voices, and Amazon will choose to quit selling Christian works (whether blatantly or through manipulation of the algorithms). History shows, however, that the voices protesting tyranny never completely go silent. I will stand for the flag. I will kneel only to Jesus. I will write from a Christian perspective. The battle is the Lord’s.
If you agree with anything above or if you just enjoy my blogs and my books, I hope you’ll come over to https://www.authorheatherblanton.com/ — my brand new website! It’s soooo pretty! You can subscribe to my newsletter there, follow the blog, chat with me, or do all of these things.
This blog will be live for another few months, but we are preparing to let it fade to dark. I sure hope you will keep in touch!
I Challenge You to Put Out into the Deep
The film industry is in a weird place right now, but he really loved the story and said he thinks one day it’ll be on TV.
Liberty–One Generation Away from Extinction?
The other night my teenage son #2 and I were watching Last Man Standing. For some reason, he started trying to sing a tune but he couldn’t quite get it. “What’s that song that goes ‘Pretty Woman, pretty woman…?'” I realized he was trying for Roy Orbison’s tune, Pretty Woman. I started singing, “Pretty Woman, walking down the street. Pretty Woman–”
And as I’m about to belt out, “The kind I’d like to meet,” he, with the supreme confidence of the Ultimate Being (AKA, a teenager), jumps in with, “Lookin’ at my feet. Pretty woman, don’t take my sheet.”
I thought I was going to die.
Literally, tears of laughter came from my eyes and I couldn’t breathe. Then he started laughing because he knew he’d somehow royally goofed up. And that made it worse. My son has a laugh that sounds like the needle got stuck on a .45 rpm of Farm Noises.
I nearly passed out from oxygen starvation.
After I dried my eyes, though, I got to thinking how fragile history is. I think Reagan said liberty was only one generation away from extinction. I was horrified and humbled by how much my children don’t know and how self-absorbed they (and this generation) are.
No wonder God’s Word regarding his law says, “You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, when you walk by the way, when you lie down, and when you rise up.” Deut 6:7
I think we should also make the effort to teach them about the Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution. Before it’s too late. Violence across America is, in my opinion, being carefully orchestrated. Yes, there is a good cause in the mix, but it’s being used like a chess piece to accomplish a nefarious goal.
Suddenly we can skip social distancing to protest, but some of us still can’t go to church?
I think our country and everything we value is under attack. Teach your children about the Lord, but don’t forget to teach them about the blessings of Liberty–how precious and fragile they are!
Who Wrote These Rules? Jimmy Buffett?
Releasing Today: Hope in Defiance
And here’s one of my favorite scenes from Hope in Defiance:
“Hope, I pray you’ll forgive me the wine choice.” Carefully, Edward poured a shimmering red stream into Hope’s glass. She bit her lip, and leaned forward, eyes wide with anticipation. She reminded Lane of a kid peering at candy in the mercantile’s window.
“It looks lovely,” she said, reaching for it.
“I so wanted a merlot from Château de Goulaine, but it was impossible.” He poured Lane’s glass, then his own and sat down. “I remembered your fondness for pinot noir from Dopff-Au-Moulin, and, lo and behold, I was able to get a crate shipped in time. Very exciting.”
“Very,” Lane muttered, sniffing the wine. He thought it smelled a little like peat moss. He sniffed again. Nah. Peat moss soaked in an oak barrel stuffed with raspberries.
Edward raised his glass and swirled the liquid around and around, staring into it like he expected to find something. “No doubt, Mr. Chandler, it will taste quite foreign to you, since you’re used to stale—”
“Have you ever had wine?” Hope cut in. “I find it is either something you love or hate.”
Lane glanced up from the glass, to Edward’s slightly quirked eyebrow, to Hope’s warm expression. She wouldn’t let Edward embarrass him if she could help it. He appreciated the effort.
“Only what I had in a little church in El Paso once,” he told her. “I think I was about five, so I don’t remember it.”
She raised her glass and swirled the burgundy-colored liquid. “Wine is complex and there is a great deal of effort that goes into creating the flavor.”
“Not just the flavor.” Edward took a sip, swallowed, and savored it with his eyes closed. “Wine is an experience. An explosion of subtle flavors. Oak and cherry.” He thought for a moment. “Hint of vanilla. Possibly a touch of cumin. Velvety. And it finishes off gently.”
Lane had to force himself to keep from slapping his forehead. These two sure took their wines seriously.
Hope had a sip and considered it for a moment as well. “Oh, yes, that’s lovely. A little buttery.” She paused. “Yes, there’s the vanilla, and possibly a touch of mushroom.”
Both of them turned to Lane, expectantly. He was pondering the mushroom observation when Hope dipped her chin, nudging him.
“Well,” Lane picked up his glass, “here goes.” He took a tentative sip. Fought to control a grimace. He nearly burst out with, ‘People enjoy this?’ But managed to cut off the comment.
“Before you say anything,” Hope raised her hand in a pleading gesture, “try to think about what you tasted.”
Lane focused on all the odd flavors in his mouth, but couldn’t settle on anything. A little flustered, he took another sip. Since he knew what to expect, this one wasn’t as jarring. After a moment, he nodded, almost amazed. “Yeah. Oak.” There was a sweetness, too. “There’s the grape. And vanilla.” He set down the glass and nodded, but it wasn’t something he’d be inclined to make a habit of. They were still staring at him. Edward’s subtly raised brow was an expression of triumph. Did he think Lane was too much of a Texas hayseed to appreciate wine? Did Lane care what Edward thought? “It’s a fine drink, I suppose, but I’ll stick to my whiskey.”
“Yes, I understand,” Hope looked down at her napkin quickly. “Wine is an acquired taste.”
“And not everyone will do so,” Edward raised his glass to Lane and smiled. “Pity. At least you tried.”
* * *
Lane fumbled his way through dinner, allowing Hope to point out which fork to use for the salad and so on and so forth. At least by dessert, he knew which spoon to grab, and was no stranger to coffee. The conversation of theater, literature, and politics, however, highlighted his ignorance and he didn’t say much. At least watching Hope light up at the discussions of W.S. Gilbert’s new play made the beating worth it. Even if, suddenly, Lane’s world felt very small.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Hope rose, and Lane and Edward followed. “I’m going to powder my nose.”
She left the table and Lane poked at his chocolate mousse. He had no doubt Edward was going to take the opportunity to say what was on his mind and waited patiently. This whole dinner was a charade, a plan, aimed at making Lane look stupid. Or at least ignorant. And not worthy of Hope.
“I don’t mean to be rude, old man,” Edward began, “but do you seriously think you should pursue a relationship with Hope?”
Well, ’least he doesn’t beat around the bush. Lane leaned back in his chair and eyed Edward with the same stare he’d give to a growling dog about to get a good, swift kick. “What I seriously think about anything is no concern of yours.”
Edward huffed. “Right there is an example of my meaning. You don’t care about Hope. What makes her happy. She’s called to greater things. What can you offer her here, in this grubby little town?” Edward snatched his napkin from his lap and tossed it on the table. “I would bet you’ve never even read Shakespeare.”
Lane didn’t deign to answer. Just held Edward’s gaze.
The man’s pretty-boy face took on a hard edge and he leaned forward a little. “You may be some sort of excellent marksman and rugged frontiersman, but let me tell you what I see. You’re a low-born, uneducated, uncouth, poorly paid cowboy.”
Cowboy. Edward said the word as if Lane was a worm. Scum floating on stagnant water. Lane’s jaw tightened and his pulse ticked up. Well, if the man wanted a fight…
“And what’s more, I’ll make sure Hope sees you in the proper light. When she does, she’ll be done with this nonsense of being a doctor in this filthy, hardscrabble town.”
“And go back to Philadelphia with you? As a nurse? As your wife?”
Edward grinned, showing perfect, pearly white teeth. “Yes.”
Lane had no time for a reply as Hope approached the table but didn’t take her seat. “Edward, I have enjoyed our dinner. Very much actually, but I need to get home. Thank you for going to all this trouble.”
Slowly, Lane rose to his feet, shadowed by Edward. “Yeah, it was one interesting meal.” Lane grinned as well, though it was as fake as Edward’s icy smile.
“No trouble at all.” He then shifted to Hope, and his expression warmed considerably. “My dear, we’ll do this again.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Now that we’re all friends, I’ll plan more festive dinners.”
“Please tell Lucy the duck was magnificent.”
“I certainly will.”
Lane lightly clutched Hope’s arm and walked away with her, but stopped just shy of the restaurant entrance. “You know, I didn’t thank Edward properly. Give me just a second.”
Without waiting for Hope to reply, Lane pivoted and walked back to Edward, who was still standing at the table, watching them. Lane offered his hand and as Edward took it, said, “It is not in the stars to hold our destiny…but in ourselves. Julius Caesar, Act One, Scene Two.” He winked at Edward. “Thanks for dinner, pard.”
Hope in Defiance ** NEW RELEASE ** Only .99 for a very limited time! Get your copy today!
I learn something from everything I write…
Evergreen—One quaint western town…roiling with romance, rivalries, and proposals. Now, for the first time in a box set! Yep, ALL the Brides of Evergreen together in one collection!
I’ve truly enjoyed writing the Evergreen series! So many fun, historical characters are woven into the stories. And because I’ll be adding one more book to the collection in 2020, here’s your chance to catch up on all FIVE previous stories for only .99!
~~~~~
One reason I think these books are appreciated by readers is my research and passion for the story shows. Anyone who reads even just
one of my books knows I love history!
~~~~~
So, let me give you a little peek-behind-the-curtain at the Evergreen stories.
Book 1: Hang Your Heart on Christmas is about a tough lawman bent on revenge and he’s very good at his job–until a sweet schoolteacher gets him to thinking about things other than vengeance. The hero in Hang is Hispanic U.S. Marshal Dent Hernandez–loosely based on the very real Elfago Baca. Baca was a gunman, lawman, lawyer, and eventually even a politician and his real-life exploits–well, let’s just say you should read the foreword in Hang. Baca was one amazing man.
Book 2: Ask Me to Marry You contains two stories — #1 Male-Order Bride and #2 A Proposal So Magical. The interesting thing about #1 is the idea was sparked by the stunning number of casualties the South suffered during the Civil War. Literally, women became desperate for husbands, if they didn’t have some other plan.
Book 3: Mail-Order Deception — this story prompted research into two interesting historical figures: Nellie Bly was the brash and fearless reporter in the late 1800’s who turned out to be the inspiration behind the inimitable Lois Lane! And Kate Warne was the first female Pinkerton Detective, hired by Allan Pinkerton himself in 1856. Both these ladies contribute mightily to my heroine in the story!
Book 4: To Love and to Honor — I wrote this story with the very specific desire of creating an amputee hero who finds true, lasting, unconditional love. The entire story is a tribute to our American military veterans, both men and women! For this story, I did some fascinating research into the history of prosthetics, as well as horseback riding missing a limb!
Anyway, all the books are together in a box set now, so I hope you’ll give them a read. I plan on releasing a final addition to the set in 2020 so this is your chance to get caught up for less than the price of a cup of coffee!
Happy trails, y’all, and thanks for reading!
A Destiny in Defiance Through the Eyes of a … Cougar
Something strange about my new release…
My editor was very complimentary about the twist and turns I worked into A Destiny in Defiance as well as the extreme suspense and tension in the last chapters. She found herself so engrossed in the story, there were several places where she forgot to edit because she was too busy reading! (We’ve worked diligently to find and edit those places!)
One of the fun things I did was actually tell a little bit of the story through the eyes of a cougar. Very Rudyard Kipling, I suppose, what, with Two Spears being–I just realized–a type of Mowgli character.
Anyway, the story was tremendous fun to write, took me almost a year (it’s 96,000 words!), and it covers a lot of ground. It’s like a whole TV season in one book. I hope it moves you to tears, anger, heartbreak, and peace.
Oh, and I’m planning on following it up with either a couple of short stories or novellas in 2020!
Questions this book might answer:
Will the rivalry between Charles and Matthew destroy them both? Do Naomi and Two Spears get caught in the middle? Can Naomi keep her beloved from turning back to his dark past? What secret is the new nurse in town hiding? Will Billy and Hannah ever tie the knot or is she thinking about pursuing other goals? Does Emilio love Mollie or is his heart still stuck on Hannah? Why is ranch foreman Lane Chandler such an awesome character? So, so many good storylines! Can’t wait for y’all to read A Destiny in Defiance!
A Destiny in Defiance releases on November 1.
Right now it’s only $2.99 for a VERY limited time. This is a mammoth book (over 96,000 words) so the price will be going up.
Get your copy today while it’s still at this special price.
OR, you can always read for FREE in Kindle Unlimited. I hope you’ll tell a friend about it and, please,
leave me a review when you have a moment.
Not a KU subscriber? You can get it here!
By the way, my newsletter subscribers get FREE stuff, exclusive excerpts, contests, pithy commentary. Why don’t you join me in case WordPress goes as anti-conservative as the other big tech companies?! I’d love to have you along with us!
Or you can follow me here:
Does a New Romance Have a Destiny in Defiance?
Can two people from very different worlds make a romance happen? I just adored writing the sub-plot of Hope and Lane and their potential romance in my new book A Destiny in Defiance. He’s such a pure Texas cowboy and she’s such a feminist–or so she thinks. Here’s a snippet of one of my favorite scenes:
Hope drifted her fingers softly along the edge of the deep cut gouging its way across the man’s palm and frowned. “I’d say this is more than slight, Mr. Chandler. You’re going to need several stitches. Otherwise, this will never heal properly.”
Famous Western star, L.Q. Jones, the inspiration for Lane Chandler
“Dang,” he whispered. “It’s my ropin’ hand.”
“Precisely why we need to stitch it. Without closing it up, a wound this long and deep will scar terribly, reducing your mobility. You want your hand back in working order don’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned sheepishly. “I reckon I do.”
“I’ll numb it. The stitches won’t hurt.”
“Ah, pshaw,” he waved away her concern. “I dug a Comanche arrow outta my own shoulder once. After that kind of pain, I can tolerate an itty bitty sewing needle.”
Hope tilted her head, admittedly a little too intrigued by the man. She found the way he told the story of a Comanche arrow in his shoulder and then used the word itty bitty in the next breath…charming. And, my, but wasn’t he handsome?
She frowned at the repetitive thought and forced herself to focus on the tools of her trade. “This will hurt. I’m sorry.” She clutched his hand and poured alcohol in the wound. Mr. Chandler winced but that was the extent of his reaction. “All right, let’s get the stitches in. You’re ready?”
“As I ever will be.”
Amused by his bravado, she smirked slightly and laced a needle with the catgut. “Did your shoulder heal all right?” she asked conversationally.
“Yes, ma’am. Just an occasional soreness. Mostly on cold mornings.”
“You’re very fortunate to have survived such an ordeal.” She guided his hand to the table, resting it palm up, and cautiously put in the first suture; he seemed to barely notice.
“Yes, ma’am. Texas was a wild and wooly place ten-fifteen years ago. It’s only a little better now. We whooped the Indians but the rougher elements have been flocking there since the war ended.”
“Why is that, do you suppose?”
“I reckon ‘cause the law ain’t too intrusive there. A man can pretty much do what he wants, long as he doesn’t cause too much of a ruckus.”
“Will you be going back any time soon?”
He took a moment to answer and Hope for some reason felt certain he was studying her. “I had planned to give McIntyre a year. Help him build his herd and his ranch. I might give it a little longer. Especially now.”
A Destiny in Defiance releases on November 1.
Right now the pre-order price is $2.99. This is a mammoth book (over 90,000 words) so the price will be going up.
Get your copy today while it’s still at the pre-order price.
OR, you can always read for FREE in Kindle Unlimited.
Not a KU subscriber? You can get it here!
By the way, my newsletter subscribers get FREE stuff, exclusive excerpts, contests, pithy commentary. Why don’t you join me in case WordPress goes as anti-conservative as the other big tech companies?! I’d love to have you along with us!
Or you can follow me here:
Tearing Down Statues–In Defiance of Censorship
I believe writing historical fiction should mean being as reflective of the times as possible…NOT the current times
Or do you disagree?
Here in the South, we’ve lately had a spate of disgruntled, politically correct folks demanding that every city, small town, village or crossroads with a Confederate statue yank it down. “It’s offensive,” they say. “It’s glorifying slavery,” they say. “They’re statues of racists,” they say.
The statue in my small town of Pittsboro, NC
While I’m not going to get into a debate about the wrong or the right of removing hundred-plus-year-old statues, the argument, in general, disturbs me for one very big reason: WHO should be the arbiter of what makes HISTORY offensive and therefore powerful enough to erase it? Once we start erasing things, where do we stop?
I had a reader leave me a nasty review a few years back because I had characters (in a novel set in the 1870s) refer to Native Americans as Indians. And a few of the characters tossed out some of the labels commonly used to describe Native Americans at the time–such as squaw, Red Man, etc. None of this was gratuitous–it was historically accurate. But that one reader has kept me wondering ever since about censorship. If/when will it finally hit Christian books, magazines, movies, etc.?
As you would expect from me, my newest book, A Destiny in Defiance (releasing Nov 1) pulls no punches. Specifically, I cover the politically incorrect but historically accurate discussion of abortion. Haven’t you ever wondered what soiled doves did when they got “in the family way”? Some of my characters will deal with the very sticky subject firsthand.
Anyway, if revisionist historians start removing monuments, I don’t see anything stopping them from burning books next. What do you think?
So, till next time, happy fall, y’all, and pay attention to the history around you! It may not be there tomorrow…
Not Everyone Who Cries Needs a Hug — Maybe a Broom Will Do
I am so not a hugger. I once told my Youth Sunday School Class, “I might not hug you, but I will take a bullet for you.” So, I can like you. A lot. Go out on a limb for you. Move heaven and earth to get to you. Search high and low for you if you’re lost. I just may not always spout the right touchy-feely words or wrap my arms around you. In my own introverted way, however, that’s exactly what I’m doing.
Because people like me stand in Defiance of the box that says, “You must invade a person’s personal space to show them you care.” You know what? That’s a lie.
If you’re a bit of an emotional freak–the stoic gal who prefers actions to words, the woman who weeps in secret for people without telling them you care, the lady who worries she too easily tosses out the pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps speech–this blog is for you.
The Lord showed me something a couple of years ago: he can use even us to share his love.
I heard of a young gal in a youth group who was quiet, withdrawn, didn’t wear makeup, came from a rough background, and was a little loose with her morals. A parent got involved with the group; a parent who was friendly and talkative but didn’t act weird to impress the kids. You know, overly energetic or always smiling and hugging on them. In fact, she was big on giving the kids their personal space. This parent was just real and the young girl was drawn to her.
When the girl got in some trouble and needed help, she called this parent. Because she didn’t need a hug. She needed a friend to invest in her. Be real. Walk with her through some tough stuff. The young lady has since recommitted to the Lord, graduated high school and joined the National Guard. And very few hugs have passed between these two people who both acknowledge they have very BIG PERSONAL DANCE SPACES.
This past Sunday at church I was a little sleepy and not feeling my usual chatty self. I am what’s known as a social introvert. I like people until I need a break from them. Anyway, I wound up standing beside a young lady who was alone. And I knew I had to at least acknowledge her. So, we talked for a minute and when the doors to the sanctuary opened, I asked her to sit with me. We continued our chat and she revealed that she’d been away from the Lord for a while and was trying to find her way back.
And then she started crying.
Oh, man, if ever a moment called for a hug. So I apologized and told her my bullet story. She laughed. And then I proceeded to tell her God loves her even more than I do. And we talked a little more about God and I tried to make up for my BIG PERSONAL DANCE SPACE with light-hearted humor and the love of our Savior. When the service was about to begin, she leaned over and whispered, “Thank you.”
I don’t know that I said everything I should have said to her but I think I said enough. And in a way, she got a hug.
My point simply is this: defy expectations and be who God has made you to be and don’t feel bad about it. He will use you. When people are hurting they may not always need a hug, but they definitely need to know you sincerely care.
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All my books are in Kindle Unlimited right now which means you can read them for FREE. Not a KU subscriber? You can get it here!
By the way, my newsletter subscribers get FREE stuff, exclusive excerpts, contests, pithy commentary. Why don’t you join me in case WordPress goes as anti-conservative as the other big tech companies?! I’d love to have you along with us!
Or you can follow me here:
https://www.facebook.com/authorheatherblanton/
Ladies in Defiance 