Maryann Austin

“What you wanna do is dump yer powder down the barrel.  Put in yer ball.  Ram it.  Rock yer hammer back and hold on!”  The soldier handed the rifle back to Cotton, adding, “It’s gonna be smoky, so make sure there is something close by to give you cover after you shoot.”  He nodded his head goofily and smiled as Della took her weapon and walked away.   And that was the extent of her training with a rifle.  Back in Boone, she could hit a small tree with a stone from twenty or thirty feet away.  So she considered herself to have a good eye.  The thought had never crossed her mind to aim at a living creature, but she was thinking differently now.  And she had two specific targets in mind. She would have liked to practice some, but ammunition was in low supply and could not be wasted.  One less musket ball in battle could cost a soldier his or her life.  So she took practice shots in her mind.  On the left stood Josiah J...

Congratulations to Michelle Tieu, Ashleigh Fines, and Michele Stanley who are the winners of my book giveaway!  Many thanks to all who entered, and happy 2013!

When Dr. Phil posted this as his status, a few people had negative things to say about it.  I will not repeat them.  It would be the same as giving glory to the gunman.  I found this short poem comforting and I think it is worth sharing. Twas' 11 days before Christmas, around 9:38 when 20 beautiful children stormed through heaven's gate. their smiles were contagious, their laughter filled the air. they could hardly believe all the beauty they saw there. they were filled with such joy, they didn't know what to say. they remembered nothing of what had happened earlier that day. "where are we?" asked a little girl, as quiet as a mous e. "this is heaven." declared a small boy. "we're spending Christmas at God's house." when what to their wondering eyes did appear, but Jesus, their savior, the children gathered near. He looked at them and smiled, and they smiled just the same. then He opened His arms and He called them by name. and in th...

My mother and father bought their first house on a handshake.  They were a young couple, in their twenties, and they seemed upstanding enough.  So two men shook hands, and a couple had their first home.  Both parties met their obligations and no one wound up ripped off, homeless, or securing a lawyer. Wow.  And this brings me to my subject.  What is happening to the world?  A few weeks ago my husband and I were at Kmart.  We had to pick up one of those inflatable beds for Thanksgiving company.  As we were leaving the parking lot, the car stopped near a lone form sitting on the curb in the middle of the cold lot.  It was a man, probably in his twenties, crouching and huddling to stay warm.  His hat was pulled down far enough, and his head hung low enough, that it was difficult to see his face--and it seemed he preferred it that way. As Bill approached him, he looked up.  His expression was, at the same time, conveying both h...

Least visible were the earth creatures.  One needed only to sweep back the leaves or lift a rock to see them.  But unless looked for, they went unnoticed.  The tiniest of these unseen creatures bore much of the work of the forest.  Little bugs and worms slowly ate their way through the biggest of trees, fallen or upright.  They found almost nothing inedible.  On what scavengers left behind, they would feast, turning dead animals and vegetation into nutrients which the forest would use again and again.  The ground was home to forms of life that most people shrink and recoil from.  Grubs and earthworms, snakes and salamanders slithered and crawled there.   Their slimy city bustled under the leaves, and even beneath the rock on which Jane and William sat.   Copperhead Snakes and Timber Rattlers made their homes here.   William seemed to have a gift for sensing the legless reptiles.  As a very young child, barely old enough to...

There will be a giveaway of Choking Butterflies available on Goodreads throughout the month of December.  Just click explore and go to giveaways on the drop down menu.  No catches, just a free book!  And with a cool old lady on the front!  Three free signed copies are available.   click to enter

Lackawanna is the word that the native peoples use to describe where two rivers meet.  About a hundred miles to the north and east of the camp at the natural bridge, the mighty Rappahannock meets the Rapidan.  And there, a Brigade of three hundred gathered under the starlight in a place called Hartwood Church, preparing for a long march northward. In this army, the Army of the Potomac, one would notice many more dark faces than would be found at the camp near the James River.  There were a great many Negroes fighting for the Union--and honorably so.  Some were born into freedom, and others had been slaves--and yet others were slaves who absconded from the south.  Wherever they came from, the Union Army welcomed them. They were one with their white northern brothers, fighting alongside and for the same cause.  All prayed to the same God as they marched in to battle.  And still, around the individual campfires at night, white and brown stayed sep...