I recently received another review for my novel, A Beautiful Glittering Lie. Thank you so much, Pamela Loose, for your flattering review!
Review of A Beautiful Glittering Lie
This is a well written story with vivid descriptions of the lives of Confederate soldiers during the American Civil War. The comparison between their lives and those of the people left behind is fascinating.
A Beautiful Glittering Lie received another very flattering review. This one is short and sweet, but I appreciate it just the same. Thank you so much, Linda Vieira, for your review!
Reviewed in Canada on November 18, 2020
Received a complimentary copy via voracious readers only from the author
this book was amazing!
really enjoyed this read !!
grab a copy and enjoy đ
Just for fun, and because this is the last week of Confederate Heritage Month, I thought I’d share some teasers that were made up for me by a previous publisher. The book is now out with Westwood Books Publishing, LLC. I hope you enjoy them. Let me know what you think!
I think it’s crazy that this is even a thing, but apparently, political correctness has affected (infected?) every aspect of American society. Now the military is getting in on the act, or is, at least, is under attack, and some branches are caving.
As promised, I would like to reveal the new book cover for my novel, A Beautiful Glittering Lie. I’m so excited to share this with you! Please let me know what you think.
This book has gone through quite a few transformations in the past few years. It was originally published by iUniverse, an “assisted” self-publishing company. Then it was published by a hybrid publisher. Now it is being published by Westwood Books Publishing, a new publishing company out of Florida. I’m thrilled to be a part of the Westwood Books Publishing family!
This book has received numerous five-star reviews, and is the recipient of the prestigious John Esten Cooke Fiction Award, as well as the B.R.A.G. Medallion. It also received special honors at the L.A. Book Festival.
I’d love to hear your feedback, so please, let me know what you think!
https://www.westwoodbookspublishing.com/books/a-beautiful-glittering-lie-a-novel-of-the-civil-war/
Here is an excerpt from my nonfiction book, Horses in Gray: Famous Confederate Warhorses. The book is available from all online booksellers, and has received numerous five-star reviews. It makes a great gift for that history buff/horse lover on your list, or for anyone who loves nonfiction.
J.E.B. Stuartâs Magnificent Mounts
One of the most flamboyant officers in the American Civil War was Brigadier General James Ewell Brown (J.E.B.) Stuart. Born on February 6, 1833 in Patrick County, Virginia, he was the descendant of military elite: his great-grandfather, Major Alexander Stuart, commanded a regiment in the Revolutionary War, and his father, Archibald, served during the War of 1812 before becoming a U.S. Representative. J.E.B. was the eighth of eleven children, and the youngest of five sons. His mother, Elizabeth Letcher Pannill Stuart, a strict religious woman with a good sense for business, ran the family farm,1 Laurel Hill, which was operated with slave labor.
J.E.B. was homeschooled until he was 12, when he was sent to various teachers in the area for schooling. He entered Emory and Henry College at age fifteen, and attended from 1848 to 1850.2 While growing up, he developed a profound love and admiration for horses, becoming a highly-skilled rider, like most young men of the South. In 1850, he obtained an appointment to the United States Military Academy at West Point, New York. It is there that he met Robert E. Lee, who was appointed superintendent in 1852. The two became close friends, and J.E.B. spent much time with the Leeâs. He was a popular student, always happy, and tolerated being teased by his classmates, who nicknamed him âBeautyâ because of his comely appearance.
While at The Point, he rode his favorite horse, Tony, on cavalry exercises, until one day in March, 1853, when he wrote:
Tony was condemned by a board of officers as being unfit, and suffered âthe penalty.â But there is consolation in the thought that such is the fortune of war, and we are all victims ready for sacrifice when it shall please U.S. I propose therefore that we wear mourning on the little finger for one week. His loss I deeply deplore.
There were plenty of other horses back home, however, and he wrote his cousin, Bettie, that: I suppose I will have to content myself with Duroc, Bembo, Rhoderick, Don Quixote, Forager, or Jerry.3
In 1856, Stuart graduated 13th in his class of 46, and ranked 10th in cavalry tactics. He intentionally degraded his academic performance during his last year of school to avoid being placed in the elite but dull Corp of Engineers.4 Upon graduation, he promptly grew a thick, cinnamon-colored beard to cover his face.
On January 28, 1855, J.E.B. arrived at Fort Davis once he was assigned to the U.S. Mounted Rifles in Texas.5 But after only a few months, he was transferred to the newly formed 1st Cavalry Regiment at Fort Leavenworth in Kansas Territory, and promoted to first lieutenant.
In September, he proposed to Flora Cooke, less than two months after they met. She was the daughter of Lieutenant Colonel Philip St. George Cooke, the commander of the 2nd U.S. Dragoon Regiment. Completely smitten, J.E.B. said of the whirlwind romance, âVeni, Vidi, Victus sum,â which in Latin means I came, I saw, I was conquered. The death of his father postponed their marriage, but on November 14, they were wed before a small gathering limited to family witnesses.6
Stuart gained experience as a cavalry officer during conflicts on the frontier with Native-American Indians. He was wounded on July 29, 1857 by a Cheyenne, but the injury did little more damage than to pierce the skin.7 He was also involved in âBleeding Kansasâ on the Kansas-Missouri border, when John Brownâs militants murdered slaveholding farmers to bring attention to their radical abolitionist views.
The Stuartâs first child, a girl, was born in 1856, but she died the same day. However, on November 14, 1857, Flora gave birth to another girl, who survived. The Stuartâs named her Flora as well.
Two years later, J.E.B. patented a piece of cavalry equipment known as a saber hook, which was used to attach sabers to belts. While he was in Washington D.C.8 to discuss contracts, he heard about John Brownâs raid at the U.S. Arsenal in nearby Harpers Ferry, so he volunteered as an aide-de-camp. Arriving at Harpers Ferry astride his bay, blooded mare, Virginia, he accompanied Robert E. Lee with a company of U.S. Marines and four companies of Maryland militia. J.E.B. immediately recognized âOld Ossawatomie
Brownâ from his days in Kansas.9 Under a flag of truce, Stuart attempted to negotiate surrender, but Brown refused. The âfortâ where he and his followers were holed up was stormed, and a gunfight ensued. Sadly, the first death in the tragedy was that of Hayward Shepherd, a freed slave and railroad baggage handler on the B&O line. The first raider killed was also a freed black man, Dangerfield Newby. Stuart was on hand to see John Brown hanged, but not before the fanatical abolitionist made an ominous statement: âI, John Brown, am now quite certain that the crimes of this guilty land will never be purged away but with blood. I had as I now think, vainly flattered myself that without very much bloodshed, it might be done.â
On June 26, 1860, Flora gave birth to a boy, who was named Philip St. George Cooke Stuart after Floraâs father. On April 22, 1861, J.E.B. was promoted to captain, but because of Virginiaâs secession, he resigned from the U.S. Army on May 3, and was commissioned as a lieutenant colonel for the Confederacy a week later. Learning that Colonel Cooke had chosen to remain loyal to the Union, J.E.B. changed his sonâs name to James Ewell Brown Stuart, Jr. (âJimmieâ) in late 1861 out of disgust with his father-in-law.10
Besides Virginia, J.E.B. had many other horses during the war, including Skylark, My Maryland, Chancellor, Star of the East, Lady Margrave, General, Bullet, and Highfly. Most were great blooded bays with black points, animals of the hunter type with distinguished bloodlines.11 Many of the horses were given to him by admirers or his own troopers, and some he acquired through his brother, William Alexander, who Stuart had recruited to be on the lookout for such fine horseflesh. J.E.B. also owned two setters that he took with him on campaigns. The dogs usually rode in the wagon, but sometimes they could be seen riding with Stuart in his saddle.
Here is another excerpt from my nonfiction book, Horses in Gray: Famous Confederate Warhorses. This one describes the origins of General Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson’s horse, Little Sorrel. I hope you enjoy it!
No one knows the exact origins of a small chestnut horse that came to be known as âOld Sorrel,â or âLittle Sorrel.â His story, both tragic and triumphant, made him one of the most famous and beloved horses in history.
On May 1, 1861, Colonel Thomas J. Jackson was deployed to Harpers Ferry, Virginia nine days after the Federals had set fire to the arsenal and armory.1 He was ordered to secure those buildings and command troops from the Valley District who were stationed there. His top priority was training and outfitting his troops with equipments, which meant procuring horses for the army. Fortunately for Jackson, a few days after his arrival, an eastbound train on the Baltimore & Ohio line was seized containing five carloads of cattle and horses. Upon inspection, Jackson chose two horses based on the advice of his quartermaster, Major John Harmon. One horse was a large, muscular stallion, which Jackson named âBig Sorrel.â The other was a small Morgan gelding thought to be eleven years old, gingerbread in color, with no white markings. Jackson named himâFancy,â and intended to give him to his wife. He then paid the quartermaster for an estimated worth of the animals.
It didnât take long before Jackson discovered that Big Sorrel was too much horse for him. He was not a good horseman, and the stallion was flighty and gun-shy, so Jackson decided to keep the Morgan for his own instead, and re-named him âLittle Sorrel.â Although the scruffy gelding was only fifteen hands high, Jackson took to him because of his pleasant personality and easy gait. Certainly the horse was no beauty, but
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1.The Washington Times, âBones of Warhorse Will Be Interred Near Jacksonâ by Martha M. Boltz, July 19, 1997
perhaps Jackson sensed in him some of the qualities that he demanded of his soldiers and of himself; courage, a willingness to obey orders under any circumstances, and extreme endurance.2
According to Jacksonâs wife, Mary Anna Morrison, â… he was well formed, compactly built, round and fat (never âraw-boned, gaunt, and grim,â as he has often been described), and his powers of endurance were perfectly wonderful. Indeed, he seemed absolutely indefatigable. His eyes were his chief beauty, being most intelligent and expressive, and as soft as a gazelleâs.â
Little Sorrel amused his master by lying on the ground like a dog when he slept. He would also supposedly roll over and lie on his back with his feet up in the air. Jackson treated his horse like a pet, and constantly gave him apples for treats.
Little Sorrelâs appearance seemed to match that of his masterâs. One of his soldiers, volunteer William Andrews, wrote that Jackson was âa very ordinary looking man of medium size, his uniform badly soiled as though it had seen hard service. He wore a cap pulled down nearly to his nose and was riding a rawboned horse that did not look much like a charger, unless it would be on hay or clover. He certainly made a poor figure on horseback, with his stirrup leather six inches too short, putting his knees nearly level with his horseâs back, and his heels turned out with his toes sticking behind his horseâs fore-shoulder.3
Jackson also had a tendency to slouch over in the saddle when he rode. Even though he was considered eccentric because of his odd habits, such as raising his arm above his head to improve circulation and sucking on lemons, his men adored him because he didnât put on airs. He ate what they ate, suffered along with them, and prayed openly.
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2. His Kingdom for a Horseby Wyatt Blassingame, Books for Libraries Press, Š 1957, p. 128
3. Stonewall Jacksonâs Book of Maximsby James I. Robertson Jr., Cumberland House, Š2002, p. 49
Here is another five-star review for my novel, A Beautiful Glittering Lie. Thank you so much, Linda Thompson, for your positive review!
In exactly two weeks, it will be Christmas! It’s my favorite holiday. Here is an excerpt from my novel, A Beautiful Glittering Lie, the first book in the Renegade Series. This glance into the past shows what a war-torn country was like in December, 1861.
The day of Callieâs Christmas party arrived. Rena and Josie had primped for a week, repeatedly trying on the five dresses they owned between them, until they finally came to a decision. David didnât give it much thought, since Callieâs charms had worn off with time, but he did carve a beautiful broach for her.
They reached the Copelandâs as dusk was setting in. It was an unseasonably warm evening, and Caroline remarked about how the weather seemed to be cooperating with the party. Pulling into the yard, they saw several other carriages and wagons parked outside. David directed Joe Boy to an open area. He jumped down, tied the draft horse to a shrub, greeted Percy, who was tending the horses, and after assisting his mother and sisters down from the wagon, he escorted them up the steps to the house. The stylings of festive violin music floated through the air. Caroline tapped on the door. Momentarily, Mr. Copeland answered, dressed in a waistcoat with matching black trousers.
âWhy, there yâall are!â he greeted them happily. âPlease do come in!â
Extending his hand to David, the two shook and followed the ladies into the parlor, which was aglow with glittering lights. Candles flickered on brass candlesticks, reflecting off blown-glass decorations that adorned an enormous pine Christmas tree regally standing in a corner. The women were attired in festive, colorful dresses, and the men wore fine suits. David thought the entire sparkling room was enchanting.
Josie and Rena saw some friends, so they went off to mingle. Mr. Copeland took Carolineâs arm and led her over to his wife, leaving David awkwardly alone. He gazed around for a familiar face, and finally found one. Jake ambled across the room in his direction, with Callie on his arm. She was radiant in a shimmering, bronze-colored, hooped gown. Her golden hair was drawn up and confined within a snood that matched the hue of her dress. Jake appeared similarly attractive in his best suit.
âGlad to see you could make it!â he exclaimed, giving his friend a playful punch on the arm.
âYâall knew we couldnât miss this.â
âWell, I should certainly hope not!â exclaimed Callie. âEveryone knows mine is the most extravagant party in the county this season. And we have cause for celebration, this beinâ the first yuletide since the start of the war.â Releasing Jake, she clamped onto David. âJake, would you be a darlinâ and go fetch me some punch?â
âIt would be my pleasure, Miss Callie,â he said with a smile. Giving David a wink, he strolled off into the crowd.
âNow, Mr. Summers, if you please, I would like you to come with me,â she said, giving his arm a tug, so he obediently followed along like a puppy.
The violinist, joined by a pianist, delved into a tender rendition of âSilent Night.â Callie stopped momentarily to listen, so David took his opportunity.
âMiss Callie, I made you a token,â he bashfully admitted. Withdrawing a small wrapped package from his pocket, he handed it to her.
âWell, I do declare! David, darlinâ, you shouldnât have!â She tore open the wrapping and pried open the box, revealing the broach he had painstakingly carved for her. âWhy, itâs absolutely breathtakinâ.â She pinned it onto the front of her gown. âI shall wear it always.â
Taking his hand, she leaned over to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek, barely missing his mouth.
He shied away, embarrassed. Clearing his throat while his face flushed, he muttered, âWhat did you want to show me, Miss Callie?â
âI would like to present you to some friends who are out back.â
He followed her to the garden, but immediately wished he hadnât, for as soon as they were outside, he saw several faces he recognized.
âDavid, you know Owen Ridgeway, and his brother, Lemuel.â
âHey, Summers,â said Lemuel in a friendly manner, but his older brother only glared.
âHey, yâall,â David responded genially, for Callieâs sake.
Jake arrived, and handed Callie a glass filled with sparkling red fluid. Seeing the tension, he said, âZeke, go on in and git yourself some punch.â
âDonât mind if I do,â he said, taking his chance to escape the scene. He knew Callie was unaware of the conflict, but he was riled, and he didnât wish to spoil her party, so he went inside to the food table.
The spread temporarily distracted him from a possible confrontation. Ham, turkey, stuffing, cornbread, pickles, garden vegetables, bread pudding, and assorted pies were displayed on gold leaf china. His mouth watered as he absorbed the sight.
Rena appeared beside him. âAre you enjoyinâ yourself?â she asked, taking a plate.
âI was, till Callie took me outside. That scoundrel Owen Ridgeway is here.â
âHe is?â
âYeah, and so is his brother. I donât have a quarrel with him, though.â
âJist avoid him, David,â she advised.
He looked over to see the seriousness in her gaze. âIâll be on my best behavior for Maâs sake, but if he tries to make a fuss, well âŚâ
âJist donât.â Rena glared insistently at him before moving on.
Once he had filled his plate, he walked across the kitchen, sat at the table, and began eating. Soon, several guests joined him, and struck up a conversation about his father. Isabelle scurried about to accommodate the partygoers, as did the Copelandâs five slaves, and a few others the neighbors had brought along to help support them.
After lingering for half an hour, David excused himself. He walked into the parlor, where he saw Jake and Callie talking to Alice Walker, so he joined them.
âOh, David, Miss Alice has jist informed us of the most dreadful news!â Callie leaned against Jake for support.
âWhat is it, Miss Alice?â he asked.
âWeâre movinâ to California,â she announced. A broad smile spread across her young porcelain-like face.
âCalifornee is a right far piece away!â Jake exclaimed with a chuckle.
She nodded. âMy pa has an uncle out that way who struck it rich, so weâre fixinâ to go next year sometime. Perhaps after spring thaw.â
David smirked through a flash of jealousy. âI wish I could go out to Californee and strike it rich,â he muttered.
Callie smiled at him. âPerhaps we can all go out for a visit later on,â she suggested hopefully. Turning toward the wall, she decided to change the subject. âDavid, have you seen the paintinâ my ma jist acquired?â
âNo.â He drew closer to have a look.
âPa bought it for her for Christmas. Ainât it magnificent?â
âIt surely is.â He gazed at the landscape, noticing how the bluish-purple colors of twilight were accurately represented.
âMy ma says that itâs right fittinâ and all. She says that this paintinâ, Twilight, symbolizes the transitions weâve all been goinâ throughâthe new Confederacy and two new presidents, talk of freeinâ the slaves, and the country splittinâ in two. Itâs like the dawninâ of a new day.â
David stared at the painting, reading her description into the swirls left by the artistâs brushstrokes, and reckoned she was right.
Mrs. Copelandâs high-pitched voice cut through the din. âMay I have your attention, please?â
Callieâs father tapped on a crystal champagne glass with a piece of silverware, causing it to ring out. The participants grew quiet.
âWe would like for all of our guests to please assemble out back in the garden!â she exclaimed, and motioned invitingly, so the partygoers followed her.
As David walked outside, he noticed the entire backyard had been redecorated. Paper lanterns strung across the length of the yard illuminated the setting, and musicians were gathered on a platform near the back. The violinist had transformed himself into a fiddle player. He was joined by a banjo player and a percussionist, who sat poised atop a stool with spoons in his hand.
âFor our first song,â the banjo player announced, âweâre playinâ a fine tune by Stephen Foster, called âO Lemuel.ââ
Owen guffawed at the reference, jabbing his little brother with his elbow. The music started, and the crowd coupled up. Walking out into the center of the straw-covered yard, they began swirling to the music. The chill in the air seemed to dissipate as the dancers moved in synchronized harmony across the makeshift dance floor.
David watched while a schoolmate, Thomas Halsey, escorted Rena. Jake and Callie took to the floor, as did their parents, even though Mr. Kimballâs injured leg prevented him from dancing with much elegance. Like he usually did at gatherings such as these, David partnered with his mother and younger sister, dancing to the lively melodies of âThe Yellow Rose of Texasâ and âJim along Josie.â He danced with Alice, and once, timidly, with Callie, who complimented him on his stylish grace. When the music changed to a waltz, she stated that she thought he would easily fit into high society with his fancy footwork.
After the musicians took a break, he strolled into the house for refreshment. Owen followed, confronting him in the kitchen.
âThink youâre quite the rooster, donât you? Dancinâ with every gal at the party.â He stared provokingly with penetrating green eyes, his blond hair tussled atop his head.
David whirled around to face him. Owen had always been a showoff, and was constantly teasing him because he was left-handed, and trying to outdo him at every opportunity.Â
âThat ainât none of your concern. Savvy?â
Owen snorted. âYouâre worthless. You ainât nothinâ but a weasel. All you can do is hide behind them skirts!â
Rena entered to see her brother bristle at his adversary. âDavid âŚâ she warned.
âNot now, Rena,â he growled back.
âRecall what we discussed.â She could see from across the room that her brotherâs eyes were darkening from hazel to brown, which to her was a bad indication.
âI want to have a word with you out on the veranda, Ridgeway,â David stated.
He tromped off through the house. Owen grinned, traipsing behind. David heard his motherâs voice as she entered the kitchen.Â
âWhatâs goinâ on in here?â she asked.
âDereâs âbout to be trouble out front, Miss Caroline,â Isabelle explained as she gathered a trayful of dirty dishes.
âItâs Owen Ridgeway again, Ma,â added Josie.
Caroline growled, âIâll put a stop to this.âÂ
âNo, Mrs. Summers,â Jake intercepted. âAllow me.â He sauntered through the house as voices outside escalated, and went outside to see David and Owen glaring intensely while throwing verbal spears at each other.
âI know it was you who killed my dog last winter!â David roared. âYou did it jist to spite me, because you were jealous!â
âWhy would I be jealous of you?â Owen mocked a laugh.
âBecause Iâm smarter than you, and you know it.â
âYou cheated on those school exams so you could graduate! You lied about your pa fightinâ at Manassas, too! Youâre spoiled and soft!â
âIâll have you take that back!â
âNow, boys,â Jake interrupted, âthere ainât no need forââ
Suddenly, Owen lurched at David, who threw a punch into his attackerâs face. They were immediately wrestling on the veranda, tumbling over each other while grunting, cursing, and yelling. Members of the party dashed outside, alarmed by the commotion. Jake managed to break the two apart, and held his friendâs arms behind his back. Lemuel seized his brother in the same manner. The two opponents snorted like bulls, their faces red with vehemence. A trail of scarlet blood trickled from Owenâs nose.
âTake it easy!â Jake hollered.
Mr. Copeland stepped in. âWhat is the meaning of this?! I will not have you two behave this way at my gatherinâ!â He stomped over to Owen and took him by the ear. âIâm throwinâ you out, young man! Youâre no longer welcome here!â Leading Owen to the steps, he thrust him toward the yard. Lemuel meekly scurried after his brother. âOff with you now, and donât come back!â
The brothers staggered toward their wagon, climbed in, and rode off down the lane.
Turning toward David, who was panting to catch his breath, Mr. Copeland sighed. âDavid, I thought better of you than this.â He walked past him and went inside.
The words stung more than any expulsion could. Frowning, he looked at his startled family, at Jake, who simpered at him, and at Callie, who scowled at him. He knew what he had done, although it was unintentional, and he felt deeply ashamed. He had ruined Callieâs Christmas party.
Soon, the family decided it was best to leave. Barely speaking to each other, they returned home and retired to their bedchambers. The next morning, on their way back from church, Josie broke the silence.
âHow come Owen Ridgeway donât like you?â she asked straightforwardly.
David shrugged. âHe never has, and I donât cotton to him, neither.â
She chuckled faintly. âI reckon you would if he was nice to you.â
He shrugged again. It was a situation he assumed he would likely never know.
My nonfiction book, Horses in Gray, received another five-star review! This is so exciting and such a great honor. Thank you “Jerry G!” Here is the review:
August 6, 2018
