by Marsha Ward
This week I'm doing something totally different for my post. I've been engaged in writing a fourth novel for my series, "The Owen Family Saga," for some time. The manuscript is now finished, the endorsements secured, the cover designed, and the internal text design is underway. I've finally set a date for some kind of a book launch for this volume, Spinster's Folly, and since that is only about a month away, I'm going to reveal the cover here:
This cover will be the ebook version, with a very generous endorsement from L. J. Martin, a prolific writer of western novels, appearing under the title. Deirdra A. Eden of Eden Literary is the cover designer, using a photo image by olly, from Shutterstock.com.
The partial scene below from Spinster's Folly is a favorite of mine. Once Deirdra and I had agreed that this image would work for the cover, I added this tidbit to an existing scene especially to correlate with the image. I hope you enjoy it.
The next morning, preparations for the journey home were a misery to Marie. She had no desire to talk to Rulon or anyone else, but went through the motions of making breakfast in the half light before sunrise. After she packed up the remains of the meal, she went to arrange herself for the day. She looked for the hair clasp Mrs. Bates had given her so she could twist up her hair. Failing to locate it in the time she had available, she threw together one long braid to keep her hair in order, and then saddled Bess for the long ride.
For reasons known only to himself, Pa went back to the Bates homestead and stood in the barnyard to chat with Mr. Bates. Realizing that the farmer’s kind wife would immediately sense her despair if she came out to talk, Marie forestalled an encounter with Mrs. Bates by fleeing into the wheat field behind the barn. She stood for a long time gazing toward the north. Although she had said her home felt like a prison, she acknowledged that it actually represented her sanctuary after their dreadful trek from Shenandoah County. Melancholy descended upon her like a heavy cloak as she thought of departing that home after the harvest. She scarcely moved until the sun climbed into the sky and Pa called that it was time to leave.
During their brief noon pause for dinner, Marie maintained her silence, spooning out beans and distributing the last of the corn bread, and then packing away the pot and utensils until their arrival home. Even when her younger brothers sought to tease her into joining them in splashing in the creek, she resisted their rambunctious delight.
Copyright 2012 Marsha Ward. All rights reserved.