Tag Archives: new release

Release Day for John Culpepper, Esquire!!

Posted on by Lori Crane

JC Esquire (1)Today is the release day for my new book, John Culpepper, Esquire!  It is the third in the Culpepper Saga, but is also a stand-alone story. The saga is the life story of the progenitor of the modern-day American Culpeppers and my 10th great-grandfather.

The first book, I, John Culpepper, (on sale for $0.99 through 7/28) tells the story of John’s childhood in England, growing up with a wretched father whom he didn’t see eye to eye with. John always wanted to sail a ship but his father demanded he go to law school or face being disowned.

The second book, John Culpepper the Merchant, continues the tale as John tries to run his merchant business and raise his family while his homeland descends into a bloody and deadly civil war. By the end of the war, John’s ship is the only rescue for his family, now considered traitors.

In this third book, John finally gets his family to safety in Virginia, but their new start isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Here’s the synopsis:

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John Culpepper was a prominent figure in colonial Virginia, a merchant in Jamestown for two decades and a resident since the disastrous civil war that shook England to its core. The Culpepper family, decimated by the war, had known great defeat, but none as heartbreaking as the tragic event that abruptly left John in the position of family patriarch.

He struggled with this newly acquired role, marrying off his nieces to eligible colonialists, sending some of the boys back to England, purchasing a ship for his sons against their mother’s wishes.

Upon the collapse of the English Commonwealth, members of John’s family escorted the exiled prince back to London to be crowned as King Charles II. Would the Culpepper family finally reclaim the power and prestige it had once possessed? And how would John hold his family together on two continents?

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The fourth book in the series, Culpepper’s Rebellion, will take John down a horrible and desperate road, where the law training he despised so much in his youth becomes the only thing standing between his youngest son’s life and death. It will be released in late October 2015.

There will also be a subsequent Culpepper book that is not part of the saga, but will refer back to the characters. The Culpepper-Fairfax Scandal will be released in early 2016.

The Merchant ebookLadyCatherineJC Esquire (1)

culpepper saga-001Thomas_Fairfax 5th baron of cameron, catherine culpeppers husbandCulpepper4Culpepper_1

Saturday Snippet – John Culpepper the Merchant

Posted on by Lori Crane

The Merchant ebookMy new book, John Culpepper the Merchant, takes place in the 17th century, both in the colony of Virginia and in the country of England. England was in the middle of a civil war, and John’s uncle, Sir Alexander Culpepper, was a knight in the king’s army. At the battle of Bridgewater, we witnessed how brave Alexander really was.

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John Culpepper the Merchant

July 1645, Battle at Bridgewater

“Advance the second cavalry!” Goring commanded.

The second group galloped down the hill.

That’s when Alexander saw them on the other side of the stream. Fairfax’s cavalry appeared out of nowhere, crossing the ford with nothing to stop their advance. There was no clanging of armor as with a regular group of horse heading into battle. Alexander knew these soldiers weren’t in armor. The weight would slow down the horses. He had to admit, Fairfax was a brilliant commander. There was no thunder of hooves as the horses were not galloping. The approaching men were dressed in leather jerkins and moved to a strange and ominous sound of marching hooves and creaking leather. A menacing sound sure to make even the most courageous opponent question his bravery.

They advanced four abreast, knee to knee, with four more behind, and four more behind that. There had to be hundreds of them. They looked like demons rising from the very depths of hell, bent on killing each and every royalist. What happened to the day of fighting with honor and valor? When did the parliamentarians stop taking prisoners? When did they start killing every man who crossed their path? The Welsh soldiers were gone. The light guns were gone. The only thing standing between success and defeat were the three groups of horse, two of which were not faring so well against Fairfax’s army.

“Ready your swords, gentlemen!” Alexander yelled to his men who were waiting nervously at the top of the ridge. Nearly half his men were not professional soldiers but farmers. They weren’t used to facing anything this terrifying. He wasn’t sure he had ever faced anything this terrifying. “Steady…” He watched the horses below him advance across the ford, and far in the distance, he recognized a figure dressed all in black astride a white horse. Fairfax. Black Tom, the royalists called him. The man sat tall in his saddle at the back of his army, looking like Satan himself. Alexander felt his adrenaline rise. Today would be the day General Thomas Fairfax paid for his decision to abandon the king’s men. Today would be the day Black Tom took a sword through his black heart.

Alexander’s men waited and watched, their horses prancing nervously. Fairfax’s group of horses easily destroyed Goring’s first line, scattering the men about the marsh like scarecrows. Even horses lay dead. Alexander grimaced as he watched more men fall and some of the horses run off. The second group fought more diligently than the first and Alexander thought for a moment they could win the battle. That’s when he saw the next group of Fairfax’s men on horseback, larger than the first, crossing the stream, again four abreast. There had to be more than two hundred of them.

“Ready, men!” He yelled to his group of sixty men.

Their swords glistened in the sunlight. This would be the day of their greatest victory or their worst defeat.

Alexander took a deep breath, braced himself, and from the pit of his stomach he bellowed, “Charge!”

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John Culpepper the Merchant is available in Kindle and paperback at Amazon.

For pictures, paintings, and documents of the people and places in the series, visit the Culpepper Saga Facebook page.

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Saturday Snippet – I, John Culpepper

Posted on by Lori Crane

Culpepper_1My new book, I, John Culpepper, has just hit the shelves! I’m so excited.

If you haven’t heard anything about it yet, John Culpepper is my 10th great-grandfather, born in England in 1606 and the progenitor of the modern-day American Culpeppers. The book is the first of four in the Culpepper Saga, the story of John’s life, beginning on the day of his birth, through the settlement of the American colonies, the turbulence of the English Civil War, and the rebellions in Virginia and Carolina which one-hundred years later would lead to the Revolution. It is a series of historical fiction, filled with drama and danger. Yet, there are moments of lightness and humor in John’s life.

When John was fifteen, he attended law school in England, and he was under the understandable impression that his headmaster resembled a goat. The joke between him and his friends carries on for quite a few chapters, as young boys typically can’t let a good laugh go without beating it to death with a stick. At one point, they played a prank on the man just as John’s father stormed into the school, angry about John’s behavior.

Below is one of my favorite scenes featuring John, his brother Thomas, his father Johannes, and Headmaster Barnaby.

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Johannes Culpepper stomped in through the archway of the library door. His heavy boots echoed off the stone floor and paneled walls and disturbed the quiet room, causing every student to look up from their studies. Johannes’s sheer size was daunting, and in his broad-shouldered jerkin with his large hat, he looked even more intimidating. His face was red and his eyes were narrowed. His jaw twitched in anger. He marched straight to the table in the center of the room where John, Thomas, and their friends sat.

Thomas looked up in surprise. “Father! What brings you here?”

“I’ve gotten word in London that someone is misbehaving.” He glared across the table at John.

“No, Father, that’s not true,” countered John.

“We will discuss this outside. Both of you, come with me.” He marched out the back door and into Temple Garden with John and Thomas trailing close behind. By the time they reached the middle of the yard, faces of schoolboys had pressed against the diamond-shaped panes of glass, watching and listening for the heated argument that was surely to begin.

Johannes stood with his hands on his hips, chastising the boys about something, but the students inside the library couldn’t make out what he was saying. Johannes’s face was red and veins bulged from his temples, but John didn’t look angry. As a matter of fact, he looked quite amused.

John and Thomas faced their father, and directly behind him, picketed in the middle of the garden, was a white goat, dressed in a black robe with gold cords around its neck. Next to the goat stood Barnaby, his hands on his hips, his face purple with anger as he glared at the goat. The goat looked up at Barnaby and let out a loud “baaaa!” John couldn’t stifle his laughter. He turned away from his father and pretended to have a coughing fit.

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I, John Culpepper is available at Amazon.

Please stop by the Culpepper Saga Facebook page to see photos and to find more information about the settings and characters.

It’s Release Day! It’s Release Day!

Posted on by Lori Crane

Culpepper_1I’m so excited!

Today is release day for my new book, I, John Culpepper!! Ahoy, Sailor!

I began writing this book in August of last year, but the more I researched, the more interesting stuff I found, so…the book…became FOUR BOOKS. It morphed into the Culpepper Saga, beginning with John’s childhood, segueing into the English Civil War, moving across the ocean to the colony of Virginia, and finally finding inner peace and acceptance. It seems like I’ve been writing the story forever, and when I put it like that, I guess I have been…well, at least 60 years worth of writing. The tale begins in 1606 in England and is the life-story of my 10th great-grandfather, John Culpepper.

The Culpepper family has been traced by many genealogists back to the 12th century in England. They were a political family who served the monarchy for generations. Though my favorite Culpepper patriarch has always been John Culpepper of Wigsell, who lived in the 16th century, I ended up writing the book series about his grandson, also named John Culpepper. Maybe someday I’ll go back and tell his grandpa’s story.

John was born in Kent, England in 1606 and was surrounded by a cast of interesting family members including his above mentioned grandfather, his brother Thomas who served as a colonel in the king’s army, his uncle Sir Alexander Culpepper who was a knight under King James and King Charles I, and his cousin Lord Culpepper first baron of Thoresway who served under three kings. But none made a bigger impression on John than his overbearing father, Johannes, who was a prominent lawyer in London. His father insisted John attend law school, but John wanted instead to command a mighty ship. This dream strained their relationship, and his father threatened to disown him when it came time to purchase a ship. Instead of receiving daddy’s help, John got funding from his older brother, Thomas, and records show the name of the ship being the Thomas and John. Records also show John in the colony of Virginia upon the occasion of his father’s death.

The first book in the Culpepper Saga, I, John Culpepper, is the story of John’s childhood, his strained relationship with his father, meeting the lovely woman who would eventually become his wife, and starting his career as a ship merchant. In the three sequels, we will find John’s ship becoming a lifeboat that keeps the family from certain execution during the English Civil War, and John’s unwanted law-school education becoming the only thing standing between life and death for his youngest son. In retrospect, maybe John’s father wasn’t the bad guy John always thought him to be.

Everything happens for a reason, especially for John Culpepper.

I, John Culpepper is available at Amazon.

For photos and paintings of the people and places in the series, visit the Culpepper Saga Facebook page.

Cover Reveal “I, John Culpepper”

Posted on by Lori Crane

I’m pleased to reveal the cover for my coming book, “I, John Culpepper.” Release date April 10, 2015.

Culpepper_1Amazon Blurb

John Culpepper was born into a privileged childhood, surrounded by abundant wealth, vast land holdings, and stately English manors. As he grew, he was expected to follow family tradition—attend law school and serve in Parliament, following which he would retire to a quiet life as a country gentleman. 

John, however, had different desires. He longed to captain a mighty ship, to hear the snap of the sails, to taste the salty spray on his lips. To follow his dreams, John would have to risk being disinherited by his unyielding father. He would have to defy family convention. He would ultimately be forced to choose between the woman he loved and his mistress—the sea. 

“I, John Culpepper” is a work of historical fiction based on the life of the 17th-century man historians refer to as John Culpepper the Merchant. He is believed to be the progenitor of the modern-day American Culpeppers. He was my 10th great-grandfather.

“I, John Culpepper” will be released April 10, 2015. It is the first of four books in the Culpepper Saga. Stay tuned to this page to learn about some of the characters over the next four weeks.

The Backstory of the STUCKEY’S BRIDGE TRILOGY

Posted on by Lori Crane

Here’s a little background on the Stuckey’s Bridge Trilogy.

stuckey's bridge from VA Iron and Bridge Co on wikiMy childhood: I grew up in Meridian, Mississippi and heard the legend of Stuckey’s Bridge my whole life. It actually began in a book about the area written in the 1970s. The local paper, The Meridian Star, picked up on the legend from the book and the story spread like wildfire. The bridge instantly became THE place to party on the weekends, searching for ghosts and frightening girls into cuddling closer. (If you want to go there: head south out of Meridian on Interstate 59. Turn right at exit 142, then a quick left onto Meehan-Savoy Road. Travel 2.2 miles until you see a dirt road on your left. That is Stucky Bridge Road. The bridge will be about two miles down the dirt road. It is now closed, so you’ll have to turn around to leave. After you read the following legend, you may not want to go.)

The legend goes: In the late 1800s, a former member of the Dalton Gang came to Lauderdale County, Mississippi to find his fortune. He opened an inn near the Chunky River and stood on the old wooden bridge at night, flagging down merchants with his lantern, offering them a warm bed and a hot meal. Supposedly, he murdered his victims in their sleep and buried their bodies on the banks of the river. In 1901, the Virginia Bridge and Iron Company began rebuilding the old bridge and the bodies were discovered. The innkeeper, Old Man Stuckey as he is known to the locals, was hung by a posse from the iron rails of the new bridge.

Stuckey's cover_webIf you know me, you know I couldn’t stop searching until I figured out who this Old Man Stuckey really was…that became the first book in the Stuckey’s Bridge Trilogy, THE LEGEND OF STUCKEY’S BRIDGE. (Check out the book trailer…creepy!)

unnamedWhile writing the story, I didn’t want Old Man Stuckey to be alone all the time, so I had him run across a young boy named Levi. In the story, young Levi took on a creepiness all his own, and I received tons of emails and messages asking what Levi’s past was. As usual with my overactive imagination, I was more interested in his future than his past, so I wrote STUCKEY’S LEGACY: THE LEGEND CONTINUES. At the end of that book, Levi “got his” and the story focused on the young woman he met during the story, Penelope Juzan.

Back to my childhood: There was a second legend around the area where I grew up. Supposedly there was an inn on Lake Juzan in the 1840s where an innkeeper murdered his guests for wealth, much like Old Man Stuckey. The man’s name was Pierre Juzan, and he dumped the bodies in the lake with the help of his Indian sidekick. Toward the end of the legend, one of them killed the other for the wealth of gold they had confiscated.

Side note: There were also a couple different accounts of trunks of confederate gold disappearing as they traveled through the area during the Civil War.

I thought all these stories had a similar thread, and I wondered if I could separate them.

stuckey Gold Cover smallBack to the trilogy: I came to the conclusion that these legends were indeed different stories, but thought they were probably connected in some way. Those crazy ideas in my head became the third book in the trilogy, STUCKEY’S GOLD: THE CURSE OF LAKE JUZAN. 

These tales tickled me pink while writing them, and I hope you enjoy them too!

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Update: October 1st release of – The Complete Stuckey’s Bridge Trilogy  available exclusively on Kindle at Amazon. Click HERE!

Lori Crane Books at Amazon

Saturday Snippet – Stuckey’s Gold

Posted on by Lori Crane

Here’s a snippet from my coming release:

STUCKEY’S GOLD: THE CURSE OF LAKE JUZAN

stuckey Gold Cover smallBlurb

In 1840, Pierre Juzan was an innkeeper on the shores of Lake Juzan. His business was successful, but he wanted more. One day he got wind of a coach transporting a trunk of gold near his home, and his actions on that fateful day would spark an Indian curse that would haunt his family for four generations. Seventy years later, can Penelope Juzan break the curse, or will she suffer the same tragic fate as her forefathers?

“The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge” and “Stuckey’s Legacy: The Legend Continues” told tales of the gold leaving a trail of destruction from Meridian, Mississippi to Jekyll Island, Georgia. In “Stuckey’s Gold: The Curse of Lake Juzan,” we may find the victims in the original tales were merely bit players in a story that is far darker and more sinister than one could imagine.

“Stuckey’s Gold: The Curse of Lake Juzan” is the final installment in the “Stuckey’s Bridge Trilogy” and is the tale of four generations struggling to escape a curse caused by greed.

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The sun had already reached its highest point and was slowly beginning its descent behind them. By the look of the shadows, Leon guessed it was around three o’clock. He knew the traveling distance from the county line, so he figured the coach would be arriving at any moment. As he recalculated its arrival time, he heard horse hooves on the road. The two sat silent and still on their horses and watched the man from last night trot past them. Their plan was to let him travel by unharmed as to not warn the drivers of impending danger. They would take care of him later.

Not more than a few minutes had passed before they heard the grinding of wagon wheels. Two men sat in the driver’s seat of the wooden coach. One was whistling a tune. Leon was feeling anxious and wanted to get on with it, so he decided to make the annoying whistler his first target. He pulled out his bow, armed it with an arrow, took aim through the trees, and let his arrow fly. It hit its intended target and the whistling abruptly stopped. The whistler slumped in his seat, an arrow through the left side of his neck. The horses didn’t flinch, but the man’s partner looked over at him and his jaw dropped. Leon quickly pulled out another arrow, aimed, and put it through the chest of the second man as he still stared at his partner in disbelief. The second man slumped in the seat.

From higher up on the hill, Pierre rode his horse out of the woods and fell in line behind the wagon. He gave Leon a nod. Leon nodded back. Leon tucked his bow away and emerged from the woods, trotting alongside the wagon. The wagon’s team kept pulling the wagon forward, oblivious to the fact they no longer had a driver. They began to pick up speed as the road began to slant downhill. Leon grabbed the side of the wagon and pulled himself onto it, abandoning his own horse on the road. He crawled across the canvas back and climbed over the rail, into the driver’s seat. He grabbed the whistler by the shirt and pushed him over the side. The man plopped onto the road like a sack of potatoes, and Leon felt the coach jostle and heard bones snap as the back wheel of the wagon ran over some part of the whistler’s body. He grimaced at the sound.

Behind him, Pierre grabbed Leon’s abandoned horse’s reins and continued down the hill, pulling Leon’s horse along with him. Leon glanced back and saw both horses neigh and rear up when they approached the whistler’s body unexpectedly sprawled in the middle of the road.

He turned his attention back to the coach’s horses. They were now nearing a gallop down the hill. He reached down on the floor of the wagon and fumbled around until he found the reins. He grabbed them and was about to pull back on them when the butt of a gun came down on top of his head. He saw stars as he fell to the floor of the coach. He turned his head and saw the whistler’s partner pointing a revolver at his face. As the driver clicked the hammer back, Leon kicked the gun out of the man’s hand. He heard it bounce off the edge of the wagon then discharge as it hit the ground. The sound echoed through the trees, startling the wagon’s horses who took off at full gallop.

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STUCKEY’S GOLD is available at Amazon!

Saturday Snippet – Savannah’s Bluebird

Posted on by Lori Crane

bluebird_small webHere’s a snippet from my brand new book, Savannah’s Bluebird.

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She strolled down to the beach of Lake Pontchartrain and found a quiet spot on the bank. She stared at the ripples of water lapping the shore, mesmerized by the sound, which was accompanied by seabirds whistling and cawing as they flew overhead. She closed her eyes and let the sounds wash over her, attempting to block out the awful world she now lived in. The noise of someone clearing her throat interrupted Savannah’s reverie. She looked around and saw an old woman emerging from the tree line behind her. The woman was covered in layers of bright and ornate scarves and wraps that curled around her in the breeze. Her dark red hair was in a bun on top of her head, but stringy ringlets dripped around her face and neck, tangling themselves in her large hoop earrings.

“I thought I’d find you here.” The old woman cackled as she approached.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. You must have me confused with someone else. Do I know you?”

“No, I don’t have you confused with anyone else, dear, and no, you don’t know me.” The old woman had a bulge of tobacco in her cheek, and she spit some sweet-smelling brown juice on the dirt.

Savannah started to rise to leave, made uncomfortable by the weird old woman.

“No, chavi, you need to stay and speak with me. I came down here from Biloxi because I have a gift for you here in my bujo.”

“Your bujo?”

The woman held up her large bag.

Savannah reluctantly sat back down, now curious about the woman.

“You’re from Biloxi?”

“No, dear, I’m from New Orleans, but I’ve lived in Biloxi a few years.” The woman plopped down next to her and began digging deep into the bag. She fished around for a long time and eventually pulled out a small object wrapped in a dirty handkerchief. She looked at it strangely for a moment, and then held it toward Savannah, who did not reach for it.

“Here.” She thrust it into Savannah’s chest. “This is for you. Take it.”

“I’m sure I don’t need any gifts, ma’am.”

“Just open it. It’s baxtalo. You would say…lucky.” She placed it in Savannah’s hand.

Savannah stared at the handkerchief and didn’t move.

“Open it,” the crone demanded.

Savannah placed it on her lap and tried to touch the filthy handkerchief as little as possible as she unfolded it to reveal a small blue object made of glass. She held it up between her thumb and forefinger and saw it was a two-inch-tall bluebird. She turned and awaited an explanation from the old woman.

“I knew you’d like it.” The woman smiled through missing teeth. She twisted her chin to the side and spit more tobacco juice onto the ground.

“But why?”

“I know you’ve had a difficult time since coming here, and I thought this would make you feel better.” The woman turned and stared at the water. Her expression grew solemn and she continued speaking without looking at Savannah. “Fate may not be kind to you, young lady, and you will need this item to face your future.”

“Ma’am, I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you don’t, do you? Tell me about Thomas Blakely.”

“What?”

“Your father.”

“What do you know about my father?”

“I met him about fifteen years ago…right here on this very beach.” She thumbed a direction over her shoulder. “Right over there at a little watering hole I worked at. He was courting your mother at the time.” She smiled. “I was young then, too, and I must admit, he was a handsome man, and I had eyes for him as well. He was working on those railroad tracks my people destroyed. They were angry that the train was going to go through their homes. I don’t mean near their homes, I mean right through the middle of them. My people have always lived off the land, not in those fancy houses like you live in. It was because of us that your father was here working at the time. It was because of us he met your mother, so I guess it was because of us that you were born.” She paused and kept staring at the small wavelets. “He sure was a handsome man. Too bad he wasn’t one of us.”

“You’re a gypsy.”

The woman nodded.

“Do you live on the beach in Biloxi?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes I live here.”

Savannah looked down at the glass object in her hand. “You’re the one who told my father the bluebird story.”

“Yes, child, I am.” She turned toward Savannah. “The bluebird is magical, and it can do some surprising things.”

“Yes, my father told me.”

The woman didn’t acknowledge her comment. “Sadly, I didn’t plan on him seeing the bluebird while he was with your mother. I was hoping he would see it while he was with…oh, never mind about that. Things happen and life goes on. We all have our own private destiny to live out, even if it affects others.”

Savannah stared at the woman’s face, realizing the woman wasn’t as old as she initially looked. She carried herself like an old woman, but there wasn’t a crease on her face, not a wrinkle around her eyes or lips. She was actually quite pretty in an exotic way.

“So, you were friends with my father?”

“You could say that.”

Savannah didn’t like the cryptic answer. Did this woman love her father? Was the bluebird story a spell to make her father fall in love?

“Tell me about August.”

A shiver went up Savannah’s spine. “How do you know about August?”

“I know everything, child. I know the past, the present”—she looked Savannah in the eyes—“and the future.”

“Are you a fortune teller?”

The woman shrugged. “No, I am no drabarni—fortune teller, as you say.” She spit again and shrugged. “Some people call me a witch, but I’m no witch, either. I just know things. Some people around here call it voodoo, but it’s not voodoo. My people come from a faraway land and some of us have special gifts.”

The woman slowly climbed to her feet with a few grunts and groans. She leaned forward a bit, half hunched as if her back was aching. Her scarves blew wildly around her head as the wind picked up, giving her a mysterious aura. She looked like a witch.

“I will tell you one thing before I go. My son, Bernard, and your August will meet someday, and you will need that little bluebird when the time comes. Keep it close to you. Remember the magic your father told you of the bluebird, and know that this one holds even more power than the story. It is a mulevi. It will make your deepest wish come true if only you will ask. But be careful how you use it, and don’t use it frivolously. You will know beyond a shadow of a doubt when the time comes, and it will be the most powerful thing you will ever witness.”

“What’s a mulevi?”

“An item to reach the dead.”

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Lori Crane Books at Amazon

5-star review for ELLY HAYS!

Posted on by Lori Crane

Readers’ Favorite is one of my favorite sites. Click HERE to visit them. If you look down the left side of their page, you will find the genre of books you like and can spend hours and hours looking at great reviews of books. The site is a gem! One of their reviewers, Brenda Casto, gave my book ELLY HAYS a 5-star review! I’m tickled!! Here’s the LINK if you’d like to read it on their site or it is copied and pasted below. ELLY HAYS is the third book in the Okatibbee Creek series, but the books do not need to be experienced in order. Writing about Elly was very dear to me as she is my 5th great grandmother. She was one amazing woman! ♥

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elly cover_webReviewed by Brenda Casto for Readers’ Favorite

Elly Hays is a story that takes place in the early 1800s. The book opens with a speech from Tecumseh urging the Creek Village that lives in the Mississippi Territory where Tafv and his son live to join forces and go to war against the white man. But many of the Creek have started adopting the white man’s ways, even marrying their women, so Tafv is torn about how to handle the problem. Meanwhile in Tennessee, James Rodgers has heard about cheap government land in Creek territory and convinces his wife Elly to move their eleven children there. When they arrive, they are faced with aggravation from the Creek, because Tafv’s plan is to run them off instead of killing them, hoping that they will go away and tell other whites how difficult it is to live on Creek land. The Rodgers are a tenacious bunch, though, and don’t go easily. But when Tafv’s only son is killed, he vows to seek revenge against the Rodgers.

Elly Hays by Lori Crane is a rare gem because it’s a fictionalized story based on a real family that lived during the 1800s. What makes it so unique is the way Ms. Crane portrayed the Indians in this story. Instead of portraying them as savages, she allows us to glimpse them as real people with real feelings, who grieve over losses just as the white man did. Tafv was a brave warrior, but more than that he was a caring individual that felt hurt and grieved deeply for those he lost. She provides insight into the plight that the Native Americans must have felt during this time period as they desperately tried to figure out a way to hold onto their way of life. Unfortunately, the Rodgers family found themselves in the middle of this struggle. Smoothly written, the chapters easily transition between Elly and her family and the issues with Tafv and his clan. Ms. Crane really did her research because she provides rich detail that truly allows the reader to feel as if they are part of the time she is describing. A historically rich tale where there are really no bad guys. Instead the author allowed me to see both sides. The epilogue and author notes added to this story in my opinion because it allowed me to learn what happened after the story. Historical fiction where there is plenty of truth woven in made Elly Hays a page-turning read for me.

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Lori Crane Books at Amazon

STUCKEY’S LEGACY Sneak Peek

Posted on by Lori Crane

As I was writing “The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge,” I came across the most amazing fictional character. He is eccentric, charming, rich, and good looking, mixed with a heaping tablespoon of psychopath. I am completely obsessed with him and his story. What if someone in the story is not as impressed with him as I? What if that person would rather see him dead?

unnamedThere is an undeniable sequel to “The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge”  – “Stuckey’s Legacy: The Legend Continues” – available June 1st in paperback, Kindle, Nook, and iBook.

For my dear friends and faithful readers, here’s a sneak peek. It will give you a flavor of my new favorite psycho Levi.

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December 31, 1911 11:59 p.m.

“…five…four…three…two…one…Happy New Year!” the crowd chanted in unison and the orchestra began to play “Auld Lang Syne.” Balloons fell from the ceiling and confetti was tossed from the mezzanine. It fluttered to the floor, covering couples who clung together on the ballroom’s massive dance floor. Wine flowed and lovers kissed, and twenty-two-year-old Levi stood off to the side, sipping his champagne, observing the festivities with a mixture of apathy and loathing.

A gentleman in a crumpled tuxedo, heading toward the bar, staggered by him and nodded. Levi coldly nodded back, hoping the intoxicated man wouldn’t stop to chat. He was here to observe and mingle, not to spend the evening listening to a slurring drunkard. It had taken him a decade to get into this elite circle and he wasn’t going to let some sot spoil it. He downed the remaining liquid, plopped his empty champagne glass on the nearest table, and quickly moved across the room.

Following a magnificent dinner of pheasant and turkey in the Grand Dining Room, he had thus far spent the evening strolling around the luxurious Jekyll Island Club, chatting with people with familiar surnames—Firestone, Carnegie, Rockefeller, Vanderbilt. He introduced himself to them as Levi Temple, a business partner of the late Cornelius Bliss.

Temple wasn’t his real name, though he had been using it for the last ten years. Most people in his hometown of Meridian, Mississippi, would remember him as Levi Stuckey, the boy who’d mysteriously disappeared following the hanging of his father from the iron rails of Stuckey’s Bridge. His father was Thomas Stuckey. He wasn’t Levi’s real father, but when someone back in those days assumed he was, Levi never bothered to correct them. As a matter of fact, Stuckey wasn’t that man’s real name, either. He took it from one of his victims, a man named Carter Stuckey. Carter Stuckey had spent the night at Thomas’s inn on his way to deliver a trunk to Vicksburg—a trunk full of gold. Not many visitors ever left that inn, especially visitors who carried great wealth. Carter Stuckey fit that description, meeting his demise for being a deliveryman. Thomas Stuckey never got to enjoy the gold he stole, though. He was strung up for murder before he even viewed the sparkling contents of the trunk.

Following Thomas’s hanging, twelve-year-old Levi disappeared with the trunk. He took a horse and wagon and rode away from Meridian with the trunk, and he didn’t leave a trace.

After he fled, he dropped the name Stuckey so he’d never be associated with Thomas, Carter, or the missing trunk of gold. He considered taking back his given name, but he didn’t want to be linked to the sack of crap who owned that name, either. It had been so long since he’d used his real name, he could barely remember what it was. So, after a quick deliberation, he took the name of the only man he’d ever trusted, the sheriff of Lauderdale County—J.R. Temple. Yes, Temple was a good name, a good name from a good man. Levi always felt a tinge of remorse for disappearing and leaving Sheriff Temple to wonder what happened to him, but at the time he didn’t have a choice. He deserved more in life than a stolen name and a tainted past with murderers, drunks, and whores. The gold could give him the future he wanted.

Since the moment he left Lauderdale County, Levi had spent every waking hour infiltrating the inner circle of high society, and as of tonight, he had finally arrived. So far, this seemed a very good place to be. He sipped imported sparkling champagne as he socialized with gentlemen in expensive tuxedos, beautiful women adorned with exceptional jewels, and even a few servants who scurried around catering to the social elite. Though he wasn’t born into this circle, and he thought most of them idiots who were beneath him, he felt at home here. He was finally receiving the respect he deserved.

As the orchestra struck up a lively ragtime tune, Levi walked toward the patio door to step outside and get a breath of fresh air. His heels clicked on the marble floor as he passed velvet chaise lounges and crystal chandeliers. The leaded-art glass was a sight to behold and the classical details of the mansion were breathtaking. He would have a house this fine someday.

He found the patio alit with lanterns and twinkling holiday lights, flanked by sweeping staircases that led down to the beach. The half moon shone brightly in the winter sky, and an ocean breeze rustled through his dark blond hair. He closed his eyes for a moment and enjoyed the gentle wind on his face. He took a deep breath of the ocean draft. It smelled like fresh linen hung on the line. He opened his eyes and looked around. Baskets filled with late-blooming roses were spaced intermittently around the cement patio. Other than the fragrant flowers, he found the patio nearly empty. Everyone was inside on the dance floor celebrating the arrival of the new year. Everyone except that brunette he had been eyeing all evening.

He had noticed her hours earlier, the moment she entered the front door. She was petite but floated into the room like she owned the place, all willowy with a smoky air about her. Her charcoal-lined eyes were dark and seductive, hiding playfully behind the rim of her extravagant black velvet hat. When she walked, the long, white ostrich feather on top of her hat danced with each step. He found her movements intoxicating.

She wore the most luxurious mink stole he had ever seen, and when she removed it, she looked like a Grecian goddess. Her empire-waist dress flowed to the floor, the black velvet bodice cut low enough to make every man in the room stop and stare. The black fan she fluttered in front of her face made her even more exotic. Levi had attempted to approach her a few times throughout the evening, but she was always surrounded by admirers and he couldn’t get close enough to utter a single word. Out here on the patio, she was again with a gentleman.

Levi stepped to the edge of the patio and placed his fingers on the railing. She had her back against the railing, being courted by some wealthy boy in a man’s suit. Levi snickered. These rich boys don’t know how to seduce a woman, he thought. They think they can have anything they want, including a woman, simply because their fathers gave them money.

He remained still and looked out to the sea. The moon illuminated a path of white on the dark water. The reflection went all the way to the horizon. He absentmindedly reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his silver lighter. He flipped it open and closed over and over with one hand. He kept stealing glances to his left at the couple, wondering if he should interrupt them. The rich boy stumbled forward a little, almost falling onto the woman. He seemed to be more than a little drunk. Levi held his breath and waited for the woman to say something, hoping he’d be able to tell whether or not she needed him to intervene.

When she spoke, her voice had a deep rasp with the slightest Southern drawl. Why did that not surprise him? He felt a stirring in his loins and glanced again at the couple.

“Mr. Goodyear, I’m flattered by your attention, but don’t you think we should be going back inside now? Your friends are surely looking for you.”

The boy caught his balance, stood up straight, and countered, “No, they’re not looking for me. They’re having their own fun…just like we should.” The boy leaned in for a kiss, but the woman turned her face to the left and looked directly into Levi’s eyes. She smiled faintly.

It was not the plea of a woman needing assistance that he’d been expecting to see. The expression he saw on her face was one of confidence and power. This woman didn’t need his help. She was more than capable of fending off a drunken suitor. Levi watched her as she scowled and playfully pushed on the boy’s chest to back him away.

“Really, Mr. Goodyear, that’s enough for now.” She pushed harder on his chest.

The boy shrugged and mumbled something Levi couldn’t make out. The woman pulled her fur around her shoulders and narrowed her eyes at Levi, suggesting he should mind his own business. She turned the boy toward the open doorway, tucked her arm into the crook of his elbow, and led him toward the ballroom. As the two made their way to the door, a woman’s bloodcurdling scream came from the direction of the beach.

Levi and the couple turned toward the ocean, attempting to see the source of the screaming through the palm trees that lined the patio, but it was impossible. The screaming continued. People began streaming out of the ballroom, asking what was going on, and men sprinted down the stairs on both sides of the patio, hurrying toward the sound.

Levi turned and looked at the alluring woman, whose young suitor had left her standing alone while he joined the other men heading to the beach.

She stared into Levi’s eyes with no expression.

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Just for kicks, I think this is the woman Levi was watching, and I think she’s going to be trouble with a capital T.penny fisher

Lori Crane Books at Amazon