Author Jennifer Hudson Taylor

The American Dream (romance collection) - Now Available!

2015-10-07T07:26:00.000-04:00

9 inspirational historical novellas

In the turbulent yet thrilling days of forming a new country, these Americans build their lives upon a foundation of faith and love. From Colonial days in Connecticut to a Quaker settlement in North Carolina to settlers of the great frontier, readers will experience nine adventures embarked by those who dare to dream of a better life for themselves and the ones they have found to love.

1753 - Carving a Future by Carl Olson Gade

1754 - Trading Hearts by Amber Stockton

1758 - Over a Barrel by Laurie Alice Eakes

1762 - Impressed by Love by Lisa Karon Richardson

1763 - When the Shadow Falls by DiAnn Mills

1808 - New Garden's Hope by Jennifer Hudson Taylor

1840 - New Garden's Crossroads by Ann E. Schrock

1859 - Free Indeed by Kristy Dykes

1859 - A Mother's Cry by Jane Kirkpatrick

Available now!

Print & e-books

The Home of Author Thomas Wolfe

2015-08-30T10:58:00.000-04:00

Thomas Wolfe was one of the great American classic writers of all times, a novelist who perfected the ability of combining impressionistic prose with autobiographical fiction. While he is considered to be North Carolina's most famous writer, I like to remind people that O. Henry (William Sidney Porter) was just as famous and born in Greensboro, North Carolina, a generation earlier.

Thomas Wolfe House, Asheville, NC

Born in Asheville, NC in 1900, Wolfe only lived to be 37 before he perished of tuberculosis of the brain. During his short life, Wolfe wrote four novels, many short stories and several novellas. When he was 15, Wolfe studied at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. He graduated five years later with a B.A. and later graduated from Harvard University with a masters degree.

While he also wrote a few plays, Wolfe was unable to sell them due to their extreme length. His writing was more appropriate to the length of novels. He traveled to New York where he tried to sell some of his plays to Broadway and later settled on a position teaching English at New York University. He traveled abroad to Europe, where he continued writing on his journeys through England, France, Italy and Switzerland.

Wolfe wrote an autobiographical novel entitled O. Lost. It was based on his hometown of Asheville, although he changed the town's name to Altamont. Several of the characters were loosely based on true-life people, including family, friends and boarders who lived at his mother's boarding house. Even though he changed their names in the book, many of the people did not appreciate how they were portrayed in the novel when it was released in its final version as Look Homeward, Angel. The novel caused an uproar in Asheville, and as a result, Wolfe chose to stay away from his hometown for the next eight years.

Once Wolfe's second novel was published as The October Fair, the people of Asheville were upset that they were not included, an ironic twist after their reaction from his portrayal of them in his first book. After Wolfe passed away, two more books were discovered among his written works. They were edited and published after his death.

"Awakened Redemption" on Sale for Christmas!

2014-11-17T06:14:00.001-05:00

Only $0.99 until Dec 31st!

Download Here

Preston Mallory hires Elyse Brigham as a nursemaid for his son. Recovering from an abused past, she begins to open her heart to him until she discovers Preston's true identity. Betrayed, she flees to London and Preston follows hoping to mend things. His plans are thwarted when his former fiancée is murdered. With plenty of motive and no alibi, he's arrested. How will he prove his innocence and convince Elyse to forgive him?

Elyse has nowhere to turn and believes the Almighty has forsaken her. As her life unravels, a new foundation and path are laid before her if she has the courage to forgive and cling to a forgotten faith.

"For Love or Liberty" by Jennifer Hudson Taylor Releases Today!

2014-11-01T07:32:00.002-04:00

#MacGregorLegacy #4LoveLoyalty

Book 3, The MacGregor Legacy

For Love or Liberty is the story about a family learning to battle the heartache of grief, while growing in their faith, and risking the opportunity to love again.

From Publisher's Weekly

"Taylor channels Jane Austen as Conrad’s and Charlotte’s bickering fuels their attraction to each other, in a manner reminiscent of Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet." Read the whole review, here.

From RT Book Reviews
"Taylor's latest historical romance centers on the strong-willed Conrad and the intelligent, sharp-tongued Charlotte. The battle of wills that constantly happens between them will keep readers invested. With an easy pace, beautiful language and a strong historical plot, Taylor writes a story of substance about two people who, belief and faith, find their way to each other." Read the whole review, here. (4.5 Stars)

Back Cover Description

Grieving over her twin’s death, Charlotte Morgan leaves the Carolina coast for the shores of Lake Erie, Ohio to help care for her niece and nephew. Captain Conrad Deaton goes along to support his brother in the role of a widowed parent. Soon, Conrad and Charlotte are locked in a battle of wills, as The War of 1812 rages around them.

Charlotte wants to preserve her sister’s memory, while Conrad believes they should not dwell on the past. In spite of their differences, Conrad has a certain charm and magnetism that draws her. Afraid of their past history, his rejection, and loving a man duty-bound to war and sailing the high seas, she tries her best to resist her growing feelings for him. As the battle on Lake Erie breaks out, fear and tension escalates. When neither brother returns with the others, Charlotte fears the worst.

SS American Victory WWII Ship

2014-08-14T07:15:00.002-04:00

By Jennifer Hudson Taylor

Floating in Tampa Bay at the Channelside is the SS American Victory WWII Ship--a historic national treasure. She is one of only 4 fully-operational WWII ships in America. Built in 1945 in California, she is 455 feet long and 62 feet wide. The SS American Victory is able to travel up to 17 knots at top speed. The ship has 9 decks and carried 62 Merchant Marines and U.S. Armed Guard officers and crew.

While she current serves as a Mariners Memorial & Museum Ship, she was once responsible for carrying food, machinery, vehicles, and other supplies to war ravaged areas of Europe and the near East for the U.S. Government's United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration. She carries 8.20mm caliber Oerlikon guns, one 3-inch 50 caliber gun, and one 5-inch 38 caliber gun.

If you would like to learn more about this great ship and how to visit and take a tour aboard it, visit www.americanvictory.org. Twice a year, the ship relives history by taking people out on a cruise through the Channel in the spring and fall. Cruisers get a chance to experience the ship in action while enjoying music and entertainment as they relive history.

The ship caught my attention and I snapped a few photos from both angles where she was docked. I wasn't able to research the ship until I returned home. I wish I had had a chance to take a tour, but it is now on my to-do list the next time I return to Tampa.

Kindle Unlimited: Provides Significant Limitations for Authors & Readers

2014-07-22T12:44:00.000-04:00

By Jennifer Hudson Taylor

As you may have heard by now, Amazon has released its latest program, Kindle Unlimited. It's a subscription based service much like Netflix for movies and directly competes against Scribd and Oyster, distributing a list of ebook choices for a monthly subscription fee.

Yet, the service is not so unlimited.

While Scribd offers up to 400,000 ebooks for a monthly fee of $9, Oyster offers 500,000 and Kindle Unlimited is now offering up to 600,000 for a monthly fee of $10 per month. These services do not offer readers choices from the latest bestsellers lists, unless those books happen to be published through Simon & Schuster or Harper Collins since Scribd and Oyster have made special arrangements with those publishers.

Kindle Unlimited Offers Significant Limitations for Readers

The latest bestsellers will not be offered. If readers want to read these books, they will still have to purchase them separately in addition to paying this monthly fee or find them for free in a library system--when they become available. The big five publishers are not included in the Amazon Unlimited selection. If you have any self-published favorite authors, their works will not be included either--unless they publish exclusively with Amazon in their Kindle Select program.
Some Amazon Unlimited books are already offered to Amazon Prime members for free. The difference is, with Prime readers can only download one free book per month and those books must be downloaded on Amazon devices. Kindle Unlimited allows readers to download up to 10 books per month simultaneously, on up to six devices, and those devices do not have to be Amazon devices. Audio books are not available with Prime, but they are with Kindle Unlimited.
A portion of Kindle Unlimited ebooks are also available for FREE at Project Gutenberg. As many as 45,000 of these ebooks are available in the public domain at Project Gutenberg. It makes the mind wonder, how many of these books have inflated that 600,000 number that Amazon Unlimited is offering. The service is heavy on classics and self-published books through their Kindle Select program.
Readers need to be reading at least 2 books per month for the service to have value. For readers who may only read a book per month, it wouldn't be worth paying the monthly fee. The typical American only reads five books per year. This statistic is from Pew Internet and American Life Project--and could be why so many authors are struggling to make a living at writing books. Most authors have to supplement their writing income with other jobs.

For the record, I believe Kindle Unlimited will still be profitable and a successful business model. Netflix and Hulu have proven the success of this business model, and Amazon may be the one to prove it in the book industry, if other services like Scribd and Ortho have yet to prove it to you. There are enough people out there who will subscribe to this service---even in the absence of the big five book publishers and their bestsellers lists. Some of my favorite books never made it to the bestsellers lists, so I wouldn't make my decision based on their absence or presence, and I'm sure there are many others who are like me in that regard. I have other reasons for not subscribing to Kindle Unlimited--at this time.

Kindle Unlimited Offers Significant Limitations for Authors

Most self-published authors must be enrolled in the Kindle Select program. This means they will not be able to sell their books on any other site or platform, including their own website. Their books will not be available on Barnes & Noble Nook, Kobo, Apple's iBook store, etc. A few select bestselling authors may be the exception to this requirement, as well as traditionally published authors.
Self-Published authors will not know how much they are being paid per book. Each month Amazon will set aside a pool of money that will be used to pay self-published authors in the Kindle Unlimited program. It may vary from month to month. Traditionally published authors will be paid the same as they would if the book had sold to a reader.
Authors will not be paid until 10% of a book is read. It isn't enough that a reader download an author's book. The author will not be paid until the reader reads up to 10% of the book. This could cut into an author's income significantly. Think of all the people who buy books and set them aside for awhile before actually reading them. Through Amazon's normal system, if a book is purchased and downloaded, the author is paid regardless of when or how much the book is read. Through Amazon's new Kindle Unlimited, there is the potential that thousands of books could be downloaded and the authors never receive a payment. Think about it. How many books do YOU have on your shelf or downloaded on your device that you haven't yet read?

All my books are traditionally published through a publisher with the exception of one book, Awakened Redemption. I made it available on Kindle Select for a few months, but did not re-enroll into the program because while it was okay, I was not impressed enough to keep giving Amazon exclusivity. Rather than re-enroll this book so it can be available for Kindle Unlimited, I'm planning on releasing it in other formats such as the Nook, Kobo and iBooks.

"For Love or Country" by Jennifer Hudson Taylor (New Book Release!)

2014-06-25T00:45:00.003-04:00

By Jennifer Hudson Taylor

For Love or Country

(Book 2)

ISBN 978-1426733857

Available Now!

One spy. One commission. One love.

He must risk it all to gain everything.

North Carolina, 1781

At the height of the Revolutionary War, Tyra MacGregor is successful at thwarting the British Army with her colonial spy efforts. But her sleuthing ways come to a screeching halt when Captain Donahue "Hugh" Morgan puts her under house arrest.

Hugh is intrigued by this courageous spy the natives call "War Woman." She's more daring than most men and is intelligent in defending her convictions. Even more impressive to Hugh is the strength of Tyra's unshakeable faith in God.

When Tyra saves his life during an attack, Hugh vows to return the favor. Before he can intervene, however, she is caught by his superior officer and imprisoned. Soon Hugh's honor, faith, country, and love are all on the line. Can he risk it all to gain everything?

"A terrific tale of sacrifice and love!" Amazon review by April Renn

Read the First Chapter!

For Love or Country

Chapter One
Wilmington, NC (1781)

Tyra MacGregor did not want the Christmas feast to end. She leaned back in her wooden chair and peered at her family gathered around the long dining table, laughing and talking in jovial spirits. It had been a miracle her father, Lieutenant Malcolm MacGregor, and her elder brothers, Callum and Scott, were given a few days off from the Continental Army to spend Christmas with them. This time when they left, they would be taking her younger brother, Alec, now that he had turned ten and five. Tyra blinked back sudden tears as a searing ache twisted her insides.

“Lauren, this was a delicious meal.” Da leaned over and gave their mother a kiss on her rosy cheek. They shared an intimate glance of love and devotion. Tears sprang to her mother’s blue eyes. Tyra looked away, unable to witness the emotional exchange as the back of her own throat constricted.

“I did not prepare it alone, Malcolm.” Mama’s voice carried down the long table. “Tyra’s cooking skills have greatly improved since ye’ve been away at war.”

“Indeed?” Her father lifted a russet eyebrow, as the corners of his mouth curled in an approving grin. A full beard and thick mustache layered with gray specks in his reddish-golden whiskers branded its mark into her memory. “Then I daresay, well done, lass.”

“Thank ye, Da.” Tyra forced a tender smile to hide her fearful worry. Thinking of her gift to them, genuine joy crept into the muscles of her tense face. “And now I have a surprise for you all.”

“Dessert?” Kirk’s voice cracked as he shoved his empty plate aside. At ten and three, her youngest brother often suffered the embarrassment of his tones vibrating from his throat. He rubbed his hands. “I thought I smelled a sweet treat earlier.”

Tyra took his empty plate and placed it on top of hers, biting her bottom lip to keep from blurting out the answer. She whirled and stepped toward Alec.

“No, leave mine.” Alec threw a hand out to protect his unfinished plate. “I intend to eat every bite.” He glanced at their father and older brother, Scott. “I do not know when I might have the blessing of another home-cooked meal after this day.”

Tyra paused, her gaze meeting Alec’s brown eyes. Her heart thumped against her ribs in an attempt to stomp down the rising grief welling inside her. Even though she was only ten and seven, she believed Alec was too young for war. She didn’t care if other lads his age had already signed up these past five years. Many of them were gone from this world. The knowledge alone made her want to drop the plates and wrap her arms around him and beg Alec to stay. Others who had enlisted at his age continued to survive like her eldest brother, Scott. They had grown into fine young men, accustomed to the ways of war, always fighting for their freedom.

“I wanna go!” Kirk plopped his elbow on the table and set his chin on his palm. A disgruntled expression marred his forehead. “I am not much younger than Alec.”

“Hold yer tongue.” Mama’s blue eyes were like the crystal frost outside as late evening approached. She toyed with the wrist of her cream-colored blouse, her dark blond hair coiled into a French bun. “’Tis bad enough I must part with three sons and a husband. They can at least leave me one son.”

Tyra gulped, hating the tide of emotion threatening their last moments together. She carried the plates from the dining room to the kitchen where she placed them on the table. As she pulled out the dessert plates, her mother entered. She wiped at her eyes and took a deep breath. At five feet and eleven inches, Tyra towered over her mother by at least five inches, but she didn’t let it stop her as she threw a comforting arm around her mother’s shoulders.

“Mama, do not worry. God will keep them safe.” Tyra hoped her voice sounded more certain than she felt. “Da, Callum, and Scott have been safe these past few years. We must have faith for Alec as well.”

“Of course, yer quite right.” Mama grabbed the extra plates and gave her a grateful smile as she reached up and cupped Tyra’s cheek. Thin lines framed the corner of her mother’s eyes, but she still looked young at two scores and one. “I am thankful I have ye here to remind me, lass.” She motioned to the dessert tray and waved Tyra forward. “Now on with ye, they are waiting.”

Tyra hurried to the dining room and set the tray before her father. “I hope you all saved room for my cinnamon gingerbread cake. ’Tis a small Christmas gift I want to give each of you.”

“Then we shall cherish it.” Her father rewarded her with a wide grin, reaching for the small plate with eager anticipation. He grabbed a fork and carved out a bite. With slow precision, he slid it into his mouth as he watched Tyra and chewed. He nodded in appreciation. “Mmm, quite good.”

“Thank you, Da.” Tyra said, pleased her father liked it. “Now, the rest of you must try it.”

“I am ready.” Kirk leaned up on his elbows against the dining table and drummed his hands on the surface. He beat out a ditty of “Free America.” “See? I could be a drummer. Plenty of boys my age have enlisted.”

“Well, ye shall not be one of them,” Mama said, as she set a plate by Alec and Scott. “Mind yer manners, lad.”

Tyra cut slices for each of them before carving a slice for herself. She enjoyed the sweet taste of the moist cake on her tongue. With the British blockade along the coast, they had learned to do without certain supplies and cooking ingredients. Sugar was rare, but the Tuscarora Indians who lived in the nearby swamp provided them with honey. She had been able to barter for it over the past couple of months to save what little sugar they had left in anticipation of their upcoming Christmas feast.

“Someone has been making you into a fine cook while we have been gone.” Callum sat back with a satisfied grin and pushed his empty plate aside. “’Tis good to be home again, all of us together one more time. I will cherish this fond memory in the months to come.” His brown eyes glistened in the candlelight as he blinked back moisture and looked away. When he had first arrived yesterday, she had hardly recognized him with a full beard and mustache. She was glad he had shaved it off. He now looked more like the brother she remembered with the exception of his somber mood. Tyra could only imagine what horrible images lurked in his mind from the war. He no longer acted like a young vibrant man of only a score of years to his credit, but a seasoned man who had seen too much of life.

Tyra glanced at Scott to see if he shared the same sentiment as Callum. Scott cleared his throat and looked down, hiding his blueeyed gaze. His blond hair looked darker than she remembered, most definitely longer, tied back in a ribbon at his neck like her father.

Always the charmer in their family, Scott had changed as well. He was more pensive and quiet than she had ever known him to be. At ten and eight, he had only been serving for three years, unlike her father and Callum.

“Mama is a patient teacher,” Tyra said, breaking the silence. She glanced at her mother, knowing herself to be a difficult pupil with her unladylike qualities and lack of interest in domestic skills. She and her mother had set aside their differences and worked together, while the men were away from their rice plantation at The MacGregor Quest. Tyra taught her mother to shoot a rifle and a pistol, while she made more of an effort to wear constricting gowns and assisted with more household chores—like cooking.

“Tyra has turned out to be quite a teacher herself.” Mama winked at her as she took a bite of her cake. “There has been too much strife in Wilmington of late between the Whigs and the Tories, so I decided the boys should receive their education here under Tyra’s guidance.”

“Aye, she is more like a growling bear,” Kirk grumbled, reaching for another slice of cake.

“No!” Tyra snatched the plate from his grasp, covering its contents with a protective hand. “The rest is for Da and our brothers. I wanted them to have at least one more slice to remind them of home whence they leave on the morrow.”

Kirk gave her a scowl, but sat back without another protest. He glanced at his father and brothers, his green eyes wide with concern. Tyra knew he felt the same fear as she—that it might be the last time they were all together. Most of his childhood had been stolen by the War of Independence. Soon they would welcome the year of seventeen eighty-one.

“Let us retire to the parlor.” Mama stood with a smile. It brighten the dark room lit only by a few candles which made shadows dance upon the paneled walls. Even the fruit painting by a local artist hung on the wall in darkness. A slight chill hovered at the glass windows of the dining room with no fire to warm them. “Kirk, go build us a warm fire in the parlor.” Her brother hurried to carry out their father’s bidding.

Frantic beating on the front door sent alarm through Tyra as she exchanged worried glances with the rest of the family. Who would dare interrupt their Christmas? Most of their neighbors would be at home celebrating with their own families. “Lieutenant MacGregor! I have new orders for you.” A man’s voice called through the door. More knocking followed.

“Wait here. I shall only be a moment.” Da’s boots clicked across the wooden floor as he left the dining room and entered the foyer. The sound of him unlocking the latch and sliding it back grated on Tyra’s nerves. The hinges creaked and low voices conversed. A few moments later, he closed the door and walked back into the dining room. Tyra held her breath.

“I am sorry,” Da said, standing at the threshold. “General Greene has gained new information and is calling all the troops back to service. We must leave now.”

“Can it not wait till the morn when ye had already planned to leave?” Disappointment carried in Mama’s tone. Her chin trembled as she lifted fingers to her lips as if to still the motion. Her gaze slid to each son and lingered on the three eldest. “I had hoped to have a wee bit more time.”

“Me too, my love, but ’tis not to be.” Da took a deep breath of regret. “Leaving now will make the difference of eight hours of travel.”

“When will ye sleep?” Mama asked. “War does not always give us time to sleep.” Callum stood to his feet. Scott and Alec followed his example. “Da, I shall prepare the horses.”

“Excellent.” He motioned to Scott. “Pack us some food.” “I shall help.”

Tyra launched into action, standing to her feet. Her head swirled in denial as her legs moved of their own accord. The back of her throat went dry, while it seemed as if stones churned in her stomach. The moment she had dreaded was now upon them.

* * *

Captain Donahue Morgan bristled as the hairs upon his neck and arms rose, crawling over his flesh. They were being watched and their red uniforms were like a bull’s target. He held up his hand to signal the four soldiers following his lead. Their mounts slowed to a stop. Hugh listened as he gazed into the layered forest of green pine needles and bare branches of oak and poplar trees. The earthy scent of fresh pine and melted snow drifted through the air. No sound of human life caught his notice, but winter birds sang and flew above them. Wiry bushes dotted the thick woods full of dark shadows where anyone could be crouched in hiding, waiting to ambush them.

The only map in his possession wasn’t drawn to scale, so he feared they might have wandered off the path to Wilmington. The drawing lacked significant landmarks and could have been more insightful. His superior officer had given it to him when he commissioned Hugh to find two of their ranking officers and negotiate their freedom from the rebel Continentals. Hugh could not fail. One of them was Colonel Neil Morgan, his elder brother.

A shiver of foreboding slithered up his spine and branched over his neck and shoulders. If Hugh had learned anything during his time in the colonies, it was the fact these blasted rebels did not fight fair like an upstanding British soldier, full of honor and courage. Instead, they would take cover behind rocks and trees, picking off His Majesty’s Royal Army one by one like the red-skinned savages he had heard about.

“Get ready,” Hugh unsheathed his sword from his side. “We are not alone.” He kept his voice low as he continued to watch the woods around them. Hugh saw and heard nothing that would alert him to danger, but surviving the last three ambushes in South Carolina with his full regiment had given him enough experience to trust his instincts.

The birds above flew away. Eerie silence followed. Hugh tensed. The sound of a rushing wind sailed by him. A low thud hit the man behind him and a gut-wrenching moan wrestled from him. Hugh twisted to see his comrade clutch the arrow in his chest, a look of shock and then pain carved his expression into a memory of guilt and it would not soon leave Hugh. His friend paled and fell from his horse.

“Go!” Hugh urged his mount forward. Arrows whistled past them from every direction. They were surrounded and outnumbered. Strangely dressed men left the cover of the trees with loud shrilling sounds which vibrated through Hugh’s head. He maneuvered his horse around one dark-skinned man who met his gaze, lifted his bow and arrow, and took aim. On instinct, Hugh dropped his head and tried to crouch his large frame behind his horse’s mighty neck. As Hugh raced by the Indian, pain sliced into his left side. It felt like someone had branded him with the end of a red-hot iron poker, fresh from a burning fire.

Air gushed from Hugh’s lungs, as another fallen comrade landed in the dirt behind him. The man’s horse neighed and reared up on its hind legs, his hooves pounding thin air. Hugh raced on, eager to escape the same fate. He could not fail in this mission. Who else would rescue his brother? Clenching his teeth against the increasing pain in his side, Hugh blinked to clear his vision and leaned forward with determination.

More shrieks and warrior cries bounced through the forest, and they followed him. As near as he could tell, most of the Indians were on foot. Two of them climbed upon the horses of his two fallen comrades and chased after Hugh and his last remaining friend. They knew the layout of the land better than Hugh, and it showed as they caught up with them. Hugh ducked and leaned to the left and right to avoid the large tree branches, but he couldn’t miss the sting of some of the smaller ones as they slashed across his face and neck. A cut above his eyes poured blood into his blurry vision. With each breath, his heart continued striking against the inside of his chest like a fist that wouldn’t stop.

“Argh! They got me, Hugh!” Miles called to him.

“Just hang on and keep going.” Hugh glanced over his shoulder. The movement twisted the arrow still lanced into his side and caused a wave of dizziness to wash over him.

Something pierced his left thigh, stinging his flesh. Shock reverberated through his system as he glanced down to see another arrow had hit his leg. Warm blood oozed over his breeches, soaking and discoloring the white material. Hugh struggled to stay seated as his energy evaporated, and his remaining strength drained with his life’s blood. The jarring of his winded horse pushed both arrows deeper. Hugh groaned from the pain and almost lost consciousness.

The two Indians closed in on him from the front, and Hugh couldn’t find the strength to guide his horse in another direction. Instead, the animal slowed to a trot, then walked, until he stopped altogether. The Indians grabbed the reins and pulled Hugh down. Hugh grabbed his side as he landed on his right hip and gritted his teeth in agony.

A moment later, Miles landed beside him. Blood now soaked his shirt beneath the opening of his red coat. His pale face was testament to how much blood he had already lost. Hugh hoped their end would be swift and merciful. The thought of more torture was enough to make him pray for death. Instead, he sat still and held his head up when he could find the strength. He would not be a coward. If he had to die, he wanted it to be with honor.

“I am Red Fox,” said the man who had stared at Hugh and shot him in the side. “You on MacGregor land. They fight redcoats.” He pointed at them. “You enemy. We take you to War Woman.” He bent and broke the long stem of the arrow sticking out of Hugh’s thigh and side. Red Fox moved over and did the same for Miles.

“A woman?” Hugh blinked with a weary sigh. His body swayed one way and then the other, his head numb from a loss of blood. “Dying . . . by the hand . . . of a woman . . .” Hugh took a deep breath to gather what little strength he had left. “Has no honor.” His head rolled back on his shoulders and his blurry vision saw a mixture of colors and light. “Kill us now.”

* * *

The next morning Tyra slid the latch back and swung open the side kitchen door. The rising sun cast an orange-pink glow across the slanted gray clouds. The frigid air promised another cold day, but it didn’t look like more snow would fall. As much as she enjoyed the rare snow, she rubbed her hands in a silent thank-you to the Almighty. Harsh weather would make things harder on her father and brothers.

With The MacGregor Quest plantation located southeast of Wilmington, their homestead overlooked the road and a semi-circle dirt drive. On the other side, lay the Cape Fear River, shimmering like diamonds when the sun’s rays angled upon the surface of the water. The swampy woods served as their only neighbors on the right and on the left their rice fields extended for several acres beyond the stables. Tyra followed the familiar path to the well on the swampy side. Patches of snow still lingered where their house shaded the ground. A thick white frost covered the rest.

As she walked toward the well, her black boots crunched against the stiff white frost layering the grass like thick pie crust. She breathed in the crisp air, allowing it to cleanse her lungs. Winter was here, so they kept the doors and windows closed and the hearths burning, but at times it almost stifled them.

The sound of men’s voices carried in the breeze. Tyra paused and tilted her head to hear better. A horse snorted. It sounded like they were on the other side of the house by the swamp. She rushed back to the house and entered through the front door to keep from alarming her mother who was no doubt still in the kitchen.

Hurrying down the hall, Tyra tried to keep her footsteps light. She opened her father’s study and reached above the hearth to lift the rifle from where it hung on the wall. A quick search in the desk drawer revealed a pouch containing round bullets and gunpowder. Tyra loaded the rifle as her father had shown her and slipped out of the study. She rushed down the hall and out the front door, determined to meet the men before they reached the house. Lifting the hem of her brown skirt, Tyra ran down the porch steps, hoping she wouldn’t trip. She rounded the corner and lifted the rifle, taking aim.

“War Woman, we bring you redcoats!” Red Fox called out. He led two horses carrying wounded British soldiers. Both men looked unconscious as they lay over the back of each horse with broken arrows sticking out of them. Tyra’s gaze scanned the somber expression of the other ten Tuscarora Indians surrounding them. She lowered her rifle in stark confusion. “They on MacGregor Land. Redcoats enemy to MacGregor.”

“What happened?” The words slipped from Tyra’s mouth before she could halt them. She hoped her tone did not sound like an accusation. Would this deed now bring British wrath down upon their heads? They had heard rumors the British were heading toward Wilmington. She had to find a way to protect her mother and Kirk. How could she make this right?

“We bring them for justice.” Red Fox continued walking toward her. Tyra knew him to be a fair man, but he did not always understand the white man’s ways. She wished her father was here to speak for her.

“You found them on MacGregor land?” Fear iced up Tyra’s spine, but she stiffened to keep from shivering. Fear would not aid her now. Instead, she hoped to draw strength from the Lord and the wits He gave her just as her mother had always done. She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “Were there more of them?”

“We killed two others.” Red Fox turned to glance back at the wounded men and nodded his dark head toward them. “These two live. We bring them to War Woman. You decide fate.”

“What were they doing?” she asked.

“Riding to your house. Your father and brothers gone. We stop them.” He pointed to one of the men with an arrow in his side and thigh. “This one must be leader.”

“What did you do with the others?” Tyra accepted the reins of the two horses he handed over to her. “I have heard more redcoats are coming. I do not want your tribe to be in danger.” Tyra thought of his wife and daughter, a close friend from childhood. “Their army has too many soldiers, many more than the small tribe you have left in the swamps.”

“We will bury them as your people do.” He nodded his head to the two wounded men. “How will you judge them?”

“I shall try and get them to talk. I cannot fight hundreds of soldiers when they come, but if I save their lives, the new soldiers may give my family mercy.”

Red Fox laughed and exchanged doubtful glances with his friends. “Few white men understand mercy. Your father and brothers rare.”

Tyra swallowed at the memory of their smiling faces at the Christmas feast. A hollow spot formed in her throat. She gripped the reins tight in her hand. “You speak the truth, but I must try. I am only one woman. I cannot fight hundreds of soldiers.”

“War Woman fight with wisdom.” Red Fox pointed to his own head. “If you need us, you find us in swamp.”

“Indeed, I will.” Tyra nodded.

Red Fox motioned to his men and they followed him back to the woods.

A groan caught Tyra’s attention. She looked over to see the one with two arrows grimacing in his semi-conscious state. If she didn’t hurry, he would soon awaken and the pain would be unbearable.

Tyra led the horses to the front of the house where it would be easier to carry them inside. Indecision wrestled in her heart. How would she get them down and drag them inside without causing them further damage and pain? She couldn’t leave them like this to die.

See It! Celerain Lighthouse in Cozumel, Mexico

2014-06-05T07:06:00.000-04:00

By Jennifer Hudson Taylor

#lighthouse #travel

At the southern tip of Cozumel Island in Mexico is a charming lighthouse that was built in 1901. With today's technology, the use of lighthouses has fallen to a time in the past. The lighthouse is now an historic site with a small museum featuring navigation history and the lighthouse keeper's home as it was back when the lighthouse was in operation, as well as the rich history of seamanship and piracy of the Caribbean. The museum is open daily to the public for a small fee and people can climb to the top for a panoramic view of the beautiful island and its coastal shores.

The lighthouse is located in Faro Celarain Eco Park, which features nature exhibits and offers important protection to preserve the wildlife in the area. The park serves as a haven for birds and turtles. Located nearby is the ancient Mayan lighthouse, El Caracol, a 700-year old Mayan structure that historians believe was used as a lookout tower.

Looking to be Published? Write Your Own Ending For Love or Loyalty

2014-05-27T06:00:00.000-04:00

#contest, #writing

My publisher, Abingdon Press, is hosting a Write Your Own Ending contest for my novel, For Love or Loyalty, book 1 in the MacGregor Legacy.

Duncan Campbell's hatred for the rival MacGregor clan nearly consumes him. He's not the only one who wants revenge for a lifetime rivalry between the two families. But when members of both clans try to forge a peaceful bond, what's left for Duncan?

You tell us! Write your own ending to For Love or Loyalty.

Write your ending as a post on your blog or GoodReads.
Post a link to your suggested ending on Facebook or Twitter, using the hashtag #Duncan, AND send a link to fiction@abingdonpress.com by June 30, 2014.
Ask your fans, friends, and followers to share, like, and comment to make your ending most popular.
If your ending is the most shared, I will send you signed copies of the entire MacGregor Legacy series, feature you and your ending on my blog, and will promote it with several national websites. The writer of the most popular ending will also receive a signed copy of the entire MacGregor Legacy series!

Click any link below to tweet this opportunity to your friends... and start writing!

What happened to #Duncan Campbell? You decide! Write your own ending to For Love or Loyalty by @jt4novels: bit.ly/1ldukPb

@jt4novels wants YOU to write your own ending for #Duncan Campbell. Entries due June 30! Click here for more information: bit.ly/1ldukPb

Revenge for #Duncan! I'm writing my own ending to For Love or Loyalty by @jt4novels and you can too. Find out more: bit.ly/1ldukPb

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

Why Jane Austen Would Be in the Slush Pile Today

2014-05-20T07:53:00.001-04:00

By Jennifer Hudson Taylor

Jane Austen

Don't misunderstand me. I am a huge #JaneAusten fan and in many ways I believe she was ahead of her time. In spite of her popularity and movie success, if you compare the quality of her writing to what is required of writers today, she would not be published in today's market. In fact, her manuscripts would be allocated to the slush piles until the dreaded rejection letter arrived in her email box.

Getting noticed and published by a traditional publisher has always been hard for new authors--and each year it seems to get harder. There are so many industry standards and writing rules that authors must write by until they have the sales to back them up and they can break those rules.

1. Show, Don't Tell

Too often it is drilled into writers' heads to show a scene unfolding, don't tell the reader about it. Jane Austen breaks this cardinal rule throughout her books and in almost every scene she wrote. Below I have pulled an excerpt from Sense & Sensibility.

The carriages were then ordered; Willoughby's was first, and Marianne never looked happier than when she got into it. He drove through the park very fast, and they were soon out of sight; and nothing more of them was seen till their return, which did not happen till after the return of all the rest.

Here is an example of how it could have been written to show rather than tell. I've written are article on The Big Show Vs Tell Debate.

Curricle Example

The servants brought the carriages around, leading with Willoughby's shiny black curricle. He extended his hand to Marianne. She beamed with excitement as her smile reached each glowing cheek. Accepting his assistance, she glanced up at Willoughby with trusting eyes full of adoration.

He climbed in beside her and snapped the reins. The horses launched into a canter and the curricle rolled down the lane leaving a cloud of dust trailing behind them. Marianne laughed in delight and gripped her hat to keep it from blowing away.

2. Cut Unnecessary Words

While Jane Austen's writing style is of another time in our history when people generally talked different, the way she phrased her sentences is often too wordy. Today's readers would never tolerate such wordiness from a new writer, and therefore, neither would today's publishers. Below is another example from Sense & Sensibility.

The sudden termination of Colonel Brandon's visit at the park, with his steadiness in concealing its cause, filled the mind, and raised the wonder of Mrs. Jennings for two or three days; she was a great wonderer, as every one must be who takes a lively interest in all the comings and goings of all their acquaintance.

It could have been simply stated: For several days, Mrs. Jennings continued to wonder about the reason behind Colonel Brandon's sudden departure.

3. No Head-Hopping, Stay in One POV

The chapters often begin in an omniscient POV, giving a general description of the scene and the feelings and viewpoint of each character. At various times the scenes will swap between Elinor and Marianne's point of view, and on occasion, even their mother within the same scene. Writers today are not allowed to head-hop, which is switching from one character's POV within the same scene without a transition, scene or chapter break.

4. Be Consistent

This may have only been an editing mistake, but there are times when the girls' mother is referred to as Mamma and as Mama. The spelling variations are not always consistent. Writer's today are taught the rule of consistency. If we choose to spell something one way, stay with it throughout the story. For example if you start out spelling inquiry, you cannot later use the spelling of enquiry.

I have only listed a few cardinal writing rules, but these few are enough to cause a new writer of today to be rejected by most publishers. Jane Austen would not be published by today's standards without further editing. Because her work is well-known and considered a classic, today's readers still buy and read her work. She still sells more than most midlist authors of today.

What about you? When you read a Jane Austen novel, does it bother you to read through the wordiness and the difficult writing style? As a reader, you may not be aware of these writing rules, do you notice these issues in an author's writing?
______________________________________________

Have you read Awakened Redemption?

Don't miss this new Inspirational Regency by Jennifer Hudson Taylor. To learn more about Awakened Redemption, click here!

AWAKENED REDEMPTION by Jennifer Hudson Taylor is an inspirational Regency Historical Romance. ”
April A. Renn| 3 reviewers made a similar statement
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Couldn't put it down until I got to the end. ”
Cindy_Huff| 2 reviewers made a similar statement
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Very good clean read. ”
hollyhock| 1 reviewer made a similar statement

How REAL Secret Tunnels Impacted My Upcoming Novel, For Love or Country

2014-04-17T07:58:00.001-04:00

By Jennifer Hudson Taylor

#MacGregorLegacy #history #colonial #fiction

While researching my next novel, For Love or Country, book 2 in The MacGregor Legacy, I came across some interesting information regarding real secret tunnels existing under the historic district of Wilmington, NC to the Cape Fear River. Some of these tunnels date back to before the American Revolutionary War made of brick with vaulted ceilings.

Lots of legends and rumors have surrounded these tunnels such as pirates stashing their booty, escaped prisoners, and the Underground Railroad. Most historians agree that none of these legends can be verified, but most likely the tunnels were used for sewage and drainage.

Burgwin-Wright House (Flickr, NCBrian)

The existence of these tunnels gave me the perfect opportunity to use them in my story during the Revolutionary War. One tunnel is known to be under the Burgwin-Wright House built around 1770 and is the location where General Cornwallis set up his headquarters for the British when he took command of Wilmington in
1781. According to one of the legends, Patriot soldiers escaped while being held as prisoners in the Burgwin-Wright House. Since the foundation of the house was built over an old jail, the brick basement was a perfect place for the British to hold Patriot prisoners. Therefore, this house plays a significant role as a setting for several scenes in my novel. To aide me in my research, I found transcribed descriptions written by the family that lived there when Cornwallis took over the house.

Of all the tunnels, Jacob's Run is the most famous named for Joseph Jacobs, a prominent merchant tanner. In 1775 he and his brother Benjamin built St. John's Masonic Lodge, now the Children's Museum of Wilmington. According to an April 28, 1967 newspaper article that appeared in the Wilmington Morning Star, contractors once again discovered the tunnel while digging the foundation of a new restaurant they were building in the former Theater Manor building. Fittingly, they named the restaurant, Jacob's Run. The tunnel ran beneath the building and all around it following the flow of natural spring water. City engineers state that there are no authentic records documenting when the tunnel was built or for what purpose--yet they obviously exist and can be dated back to the colonial period.

Mitchell Anderson House

Another setting that I used in the story was the Mitchell Anderson House built around 1739, the oldest surviving house in Wilmington. When Lord Cornwallis took over the Burgwin-Wright House in 1871, Major James Craig of the British Army was forced to vacate the premises and took over the Mitchell House.

Historic homes like this and real existing tunnels with lots of legendary stories surrounding them are great fodder for an author's imagination. Therefore, I used what real historic information that we have about them and took creative license with the rest to fit it into the storyline of my novel, For Love or Country set in 1781, Wilmington, NC.

Book Review - "Trusting God: Even When Life Hurts" by Jerry Bridges

2014-03-23T14:57:00.002-04:00

By Jennifer Hudson Taylor

Book Description
When unexpected circumstances arise that appear unjust, irrational, or even dreadful, we feel confused and frustrated. And before long, we begin to doubt God's concern for us or His control over our lives.

Adversity is hard to endure and can be even harder to understand. If God were really in control, why would He allow the tragic auto accident or crucial job loss? How could He permit cancer in a loved one or the death of a child? Grappling with His concern for us we ask, "Why is God allowing this?" or "What have I done wrong?"

In an effort to strengthen his own trust in God during a time of adversity, Jerry Bridges began a lengthy Bible study on the topic of God's sovereignty. What he learned changed his life, and he now shares the fruit of that study in Trusting God. As you begin to explore the scope of God's power over nations, and the detailed lives of individuals, you'll begin to acknowledge His loving control. And as you come to know Him better, you'll find yourself trusting Him more completely - even when life hurts.

Why I Read this Book
Before I get to my review of this book, I want to share my reason for reading it in the first place. Due to so many unexpected difficulties in my life, I was in a place of questioning God's love. Unlike some, I have never questioned God's sovereignty and existence, and I was never the prodigal child. I turned my life over to Christ at age 9 and followed Him through my teen and college years and into my adult life. I always strived to do what was right to the best of my ability. In spite of this, trouble found me through loved ones' poor decisions, finances, medical issues of loved ones, and situations that were truly out of my control. I had to finally accept this, as I prefer to be in control.

I came to a place where I felt like God loved everyone else, but me. He loved them so much more because they seemed to be blessed more than me--in everything--or so it seemed. Their testimonies were not an inspiration of what God could do for me, but a painful reminder of what He refused to do for me. He was my bestfriend, my everything, how could He hurt me like this? Yes, Christ died on the cross for me, but He died for everyone and I just happened to be included. I know how illogical this sounds, but feelings and emotions do not always follow logic. It was my "Job" moment. The few Christians I confided in were much like Job's friends, they criticized and judged me and brought up all my failings so I withdrew even more. If God had allowed some serious heartbreaking things to happen to me once, I didn't trust Him not to make me go through it again or something just as heartbreaking. I won't go into the details of all the things that brought me to this state of mind and spiritual heartbreak, but suffice it to say that this book helped bring some perspectives back to my thought process and helped open the door to my healing.

My Review
This book doesn't sugar coat reality and it deals with hard truths that we have to accept whether or not we understand why God has allowed some tragic events to happen to us and/or our loved ones. First, the author lays the groundwork that God is sovereign over everything. Next, he covers God's love for us as individuals and as humankind. When we question God's reason for allowing things to happen, we question His sovereign power, authority and wisdom. We cannot understand all His reasons, because we cannot know and understand all that He knows. Our faith requires trusting God with what we don't know and cannot understand. Trusting God is very clear in getting this point across.

Since this book has so many difficult concepts to accept, I had to read it in slow increments and digest each section separately. Even though I experienced feelings of anger, frustration and defeat, there were other sections that inspired me with hope again. By the time I reached the end, it succeeded in making me want to trust God as I used to, but this time with a more realistic and mature expectation. I highly recommend this book for people who have been through difficult times and who struggle with questioning and trusting God.

Some notes and quotes I have highlighted from Trusting God

God is completely sovereign. God is infinite in wisdom. God is perfect in love.
If we are going to learn to trust God in adversity, we must believe that just as certainly as God will allow nothing to subvert his glory, so He will allow nothing to spoil the good He is working out in us and for us.
God did not simply create and then walk away. He constantly sustains that which He created.
As God's rule is invincible, so it is incomprehensible.
Just because God does not act as we think He should, we conclude He cannot act as we think He would.
We are to establish our beliefs by the Bible, not our experiences.
God sovereignly uses the most ordinary circumstances to accomplish His purpose.
Our first priority in times of adversity is to honor and glorify God by trusting Him. We tend to make our first priority the gaining of relief from our feelings of heartache or disappointment or frustration.
"A bruised reed will not break." (Matthew 12:20)
Let us not be guilty of breaking a bruised reed (a heavy heart) by insensitive treatment of the heavy doctrine of the sovereignty of God.
"For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through endurance and the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope." (Romans 15:4)
Just as we might not misconstrue God's sovereignty so as to make people mere puppets, so we must not press man's freedom to the point of limiting God's sovereignty.
"The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things revealed belong to us and to our children forever, and we may follow the words of this law." (Deut 29:29)
Our duty, then, is to obey the "things revealed," that is, the will of God as revealed in Scripture for every area of life.
For those experiencing the events recorded in the biblical narratives, God's hand was no more apparent to them in those events than His hand is apparent to us today in ours.
There is a vast difference between acceptance and either resignation or submission.
Our duty is found in the revealed will of God in the Scriptures. Our trust must be in the sovereign will of God, as he works in the ordinary circumstances of our daily lives for our good and His glory.
God knows exactly what He intends we become and He knows exactly what circumstances, both good and bad, are necessary to produce that result in our lives.
We must learn to trust God when He doesn't tell us why, when we don't understand what He is doing.
If we are to honor God by trusting Him, and if we are to find peace for ourselves, we must come to the place where we can honestly say, "God, I do not understand. I will just trust you."
"There is no wisdom, no insight, no plan that can succeed against the Lord." (Proverbs 21:30)
God's wisdom, then, is greater than the wisdom of any of our adversaries, whether they be of other people or the Devil himself. Therefore, we should not fear what they seek to do, or even succeed in doing to us.
We must see our circumstances through God's love, instead of, as we are prone to do, seeing God's love through our circumstances.
Instead of mistakenly looking for God's love in tokens of happiness, we should look for them in His faithful and persistent work to conform us to Christ.
Another area of our lives that God must continually be at work on is our tendency to rely on ourselves instead of on Him.
God uses adversity to loosen our grip on those things that are not true fruit. A severe illness or death of someone dear to us, the loss of material substance, the tarnishing of our reputation, the turning aside of friends, or the dashing of our cherished dreams on the rocks of failure, cause us to think about what is really important in life.
We live in a world that worships independence and self-reliance.
He will cause you to feel keenly your dependence on Him. He will often blight the very thing we feel confident in so that we will learn to depend on Him, not on ourselves.

Virtual View of Public Historic Buildings in Charleston

2014-03-21T22:33:00.000-04:00

By Jennifer Hudson Taylor

While researching historical Charleston for a few of my historical novels, I came across several significant public buildings that have stood the test of time since Colonial Charles Town. Even though churches are not considered government buildings, I am including them in this blog post since these buildings are valuable to the local community.

United States Custom House (1853)

Bankers Trust of SC (1853)

Corner of Broad St. & E. Bay St.

Fireproof Building (1827)

The oldest fireproof building in the U.S.

Exchange & Provost Building (1767)
Public market and meeting place during colonial era

Circular Congregational Church
Founded as Independent Church in 1681
Current building dates back to 1891

St. Michael's Episcopal Church (1752)

United States Post Office & Courthouse (1896)

Post Office is on 1st floor & Courthouse is on 2nd floor

First Scots Presbyterian Church (1814)

Charleston City Hall (1800)

A Picturesque View of Historic Homes in Charleston

2014-02-17T10:14:00.000-05:00

By Jennifer Hudson Taylor

#Charleston #Colonial #4LoveLoyalty

Over the years I have taken a number of road trips to Charleston, SC for historical research on my novels. For Love or Loyalty required a lot of research on colonial Charles Towne and I couldn't help but take numerous photos while I was there. I am fascinated by historical homes and the various architecture. Therefore, I want to share a few of these images and I'll be posting them on my Pinterest boards for All Things Carolina and Inspiring Historical Places. Hope you enjoy them!

Joseph Manigault House (1803)

East Battery St.

Tristram Hyde House (1914)

74 Murray Blvd.

C. Bissell Jenkins House (1913)

52 Murray Blvd.

32 Murray Blvd. (1929)

Archibald Baker Jr. House (1938)

36 Murray Blvd.

Rainbow Row (mid-1700's - mid-1800's)

East Bay St. (13 pastel colored historical homes)

Help me identify this house!

Help me identify this house!
On a Charleston Cobbled St.

John C. Doyle Art Gallery

(Pink building on left side)

Chalmers St.

Nathaniel Russell House (1808)

51 Meeting St.

60 Meeting St.

Corner of Meeting St & Atlantic St.

Corner of Meeting St. & Lamboll St.

Thomas Heyward Jr. House (1772)
18 Meeting St.

Calhoun Mansion (1876)

16 Meeting St.

George Eveleigh House (1743)
39 Church St.

Lewis Timothy Print Shop
Worked for Benjamin Franklin & died in 1738
97 King St.

Marx E. Cohen House (1845)
The original plot dates back to 1680
85 King St.

Stucco House (1905)

2 South Battery St.

4 South Battery St. (1892)

Edmonston-Alston House (1825)
21 East Battery St.
(Bed & Breakfast & still part of Alston Family since 1836)

22 East Battery St.

What Two Things Must Writers Have?

2014-02-08T11:11:00.002-05:00

By Jennifer Hudson Taylor

#writing #fiction #plotting

New authors and many seasoned authors alike need to understand one concept:

Your stories need to be a tangible experience for YOU before it is possible to be a tangible experience to your readers.

We discuss plot twists, deep POV, 3D characterization, realistic dialogue, sensory, emotion and settings, but what it all boils down to is the reader's ability to experience the story as it unfolds. This is something that my graphic design and motion graphics experience has taught me about writing. I learned the individual elements in writing workshops, but it has really come to life for me in my motion graphics tutorials.

Are you the type of writer who sees, hears your characters as if you are watching them in a movie as you write the story? Or are you the type of writer who is sees, hears, feels and tastes what the characters are experiencing as you write the story?

I propose that you need to do both.

Plotters, as you write and plot the story, it isn't enough to know what is going to happen next, you need to imagine it. See it in your mind. Pansters, as it unfolds and you are surprised by what happens next, allow your imagination to see it. This will bring a deeper depth to your story. What are your characters wearing? What is the setting around them? What do they sound like?

Reread what you have written and now experience it. What is an appropriate reaction to what just happened? What are they feeling? What is going through the character's mind? Think of the view as your character walks down a hall. What do they see?

Let's be realistic. Writing is hard. Critiquers and reviewers are often harsh. When our books go through sales slumps, it seems like no one cares and the effort isn't worth it. Self-doubt attacks us and the negative thoughts challenge our creative spirit. A deadline is like a heavy noose around our neck and the light or spark of creativity seems extinguished.

Yet, we write, and as we write, we wonder if everything we are writing will have to be rewritten. It seems as if we are going through the motions of writing. We keep telling ourselves to just get it on the screen. We can fix it later. On and on we struggle.

But then, we are inspired by a good review, a happy reader, another writer who understands, or a new idea for a plot twist hits us in the middle of the night. Then out of no where, the muse is back. The words are pouring out of us.

Sometimes these inspirations do not come and nothing sparks the muse or re-inspires us. We can't seem to FEEL the story. What then?

When this happens. Stop. Take a break and think back to when you were first inspired to write this story. What was it that motivated you? Go back to that place in your mind and allow your heart to travel with you. Imagine it as a movie and then place yourself in the movie.

Writers can't write without imagination and heart...these are God-given gifts...use these gifts to bring your words to life in a tangible experience...first to yourself as the author and then to your readers.

Awakened Redemption by Jennifer Hudson Taylor Is Now Available!

2013-12-17T16:11:00.000-05:00

By Jennifer Hudson Taylor

#Regency #Christianfiction #christianromance

England, 1815
Inspirational Regency

Short Blurb
Awakened Redemption is the story of Elyse Brigham, an abused woman who believes God has forsaken her, but when Preston Mallory offers her a nursemaid position, freedom is in her grasp. Only one man stands in her way—her abuser.

Summary
Preston Mallory hires Elyse Brigham as a nursemaid for his son. Recovering from an abused past, she begins to open her heart to Preston. When she discovers Preston's true identity, she feels betrayed and flees to London. Preston follows hoping to mend things, but his plans are thwarted when his former fiancée is murdered. With plenty of motive and no alibi, he's arrested. How will he prove his innocence and convince Elyse to forgive him?

Elyse has nowhere to turn and believes the Almighty has forsaken her. As her life begins to unravel, a new foundation and path are laid before her if she has the courage to forgive and cling to a forgotten faith.

Available only on Kindle Select
(for now)

$3.99

2013 Time Travelers Book Signing at the Carolina Renaissance Festival

2013-11-18T08:15:00.000-05:00

By Jennifer Hudson Taylor

This weekend I was blessed to join several other writers in celebrating the Renaissance period in costume and great fun. In years past, I dressed up in my 15th Century Scottish Highland gown, but this year it was warm and I didn't think I could handle all the layers. I did manage to snap a few images of other authors in their costumes.

The Carolina Renaissance Festival takes place each year for six weekends throughout October and November. Made up of an 20 acre theme park filled with 16th century European style villages with charming cottages, castles and merchants with kitchens and pubs, arts and crafts. It combines outdoor theater with 11 stages, a jousting tournament, circus entertainment, rides for children powered by people--not electric. I wrote about the Carolina Renaissance Festival in 2007 on my first visit with my family and posted photos of some of their rides, here.

Since then I have been attending as a published author at their Time Travelers Book Signing weekend--the perfect place to go back in time and experience one of my historical stories - Highland Blessings, Highland Sanctuary, Path of Freedom, and For Love or Loyalty.

Below are some of the authors that I enjoyed meeting and discovering. I've included a link to their site and at least one novel that they have published -- and photos! I have attempted to include everyone who participated. Also, Park Road Bookstore provided the books and made things easier with the sales. It's a great way to work with our local bookstore!

Author Anne C. Barnhill

Anne Clinard Barnhill
Mainstream Historical Fiction
She writes historical fiction set in the court of King Henry VIII for St. Martin's Press. Her debut novel is At the Mercy of the Queen.

Authors Misty Massy & A.J. Hartley

A.J. Hartley
Mainsteam Fiction
Born in Great Britain, A.J. is a professor at UNCC and author of MacBeth, a novel version of Shakespeare's original play, MacBeth.

Misty Massy
Mainstream Science Fiction & Fantasy
She is author of Mad Kestrel, a rollicking adventure of magic on the high seas. I'm sure it is bound to have a pirate or two in it!

Author K.A. Thomas

K.A. Thomas
Christian Fiction YA Fantasy
Kendra is author of Ravenheart and Sorrowheart. She overcame dyslexia and is now a middle school teacher of writing and grammar - a perfect profession for an author.

Author Gail Z. Martin

Gail Z. Martin
Mainstream Fantasy
Gail creates supernatural worlds of action, magic and adventure. Her series include The Chronicles of Necromancer, the Fallen Kings Cycle, and Ascendant Kingdom Saga.

Author John Hartness

John Hartness
Mainstream Horror
John is the author of the Black Knight Chronicles from Belle Bridge Books. He lives in Charlotte, NC and has a background in theater. I apologize that I missed getting a photo of John, but I have included a publicity photo that was used to promote this event.

Authors Joyce & Jim Lavene

Joyce and Jim Lavene
Mainstream Cozy Mysteries
Joyce and Jim are a husband and wife team who write cozy mysteries that take place at the Renaissance Faire, including Wicked Weaves, Ghastly Glass, and Deadly Daggers. They have written more than 60 novels for several publishers.

Author Timothy W. Tron

Timothy W. Tron
Biblical Christian Fiction
Tim is the author of Bruecke to Heaven, a storyteller finds his ancestral roots to the Apostle Speakers - Children of the Light. He brought his guitar to entertain us.

"For Love or Loyalty" by Jennifer Hudson Taylor Releases Today!

2013-11-05T08:29:00.000-05:00

#MacGregorLegacy #4LoveLoyalty

(Book 1, The MacGregor Legacy)

One conquest could destroy her, but avenge his family.

Scotland to the Carolinas, 1760

For Love or Loyalty is the story of a highlander seeking revenge, but when the bargaining price becomes too great of a moral sacrifice, he must find a way to reverse his deeds and save the woman he loves.

Malcolm MacGregor vows to free his family and exact revenge against Duncan Campbell. When the opportunity arises, Malcolm decides to use Duncan’s daughter as the bargaining price. Lauren Campbell is the perfect answer, until she begins chipping away at the bitterness in Malcolm’s heart and changing everything. Her bold faith and forgiveness ignites guilt he would rather avoid and a love he doesn't deserve.

Lauren Campbell never expected to discover such a caring and protective man behind the façade of Malcolm MacGregor’s fierce reputation. When they arrive in America, things turn against them, and Lauren finds herself in a fate worse than death. Now Malcolm has the dilemma of freeing the rest of his family or rescuing Lauren, but time is short and with little means, he needs a miracle.

Read the First Chapter!

For Love or Loyalty

Chapter One
Argyle, Scotland, 1760

A feeling of foreboding crawled over Malcolm MacGregor like a colony of insects picking at his skin. He gripped the reins as he inhaled the crisp March air, but it burned his lungs with the residue of tainted fire. A cloud of dark smoke hovered over the wee village of Inverawe—home. Fear coiled inside Malcolm’s gut as he urged his mount forward.

His brother kept pace beside him. At a score and four, Thomas was two years Malcolm’s junior. He favored Malcolm with the same stubborn chin and broad shoulders from hard work.

Distant moors lined the overcast sky. Morning fog hovered over the glen, blending with heavy smoke. As they drew near, their eyes stung and the burnt smell accosted them until they coughed. Keening scraped his ears like a tormented bagpipe.

They reached the stone huts, packed with dirt and straw roofs. At least the village homes weren’t on fire, as he originally feared. Piles of furniture and personal items burned in front of each hut. Sad faces and weeping echoed from every direction.

Malcolm’s throat constricted. His chest tightened in a mixture of compassion and fear for his family. He maneuvered his horse between the huts heading toward the center of the village, seeking the home where he had grown from a lad into a man. Engulfed in flames, it blazed to the sky.

“Mither an’ Carleen . . .” The words fell from Malcolm’s swollen tongue, stalling in the air as his thoughts shifted to their youngest brother, Graham. At only twenty, the lad would have done aught to protect the women in their absence.

“Malcolm, ye’re back!” Heather strode toward him, her eyes red and swollen. Words stalled upon her tongue, increasing his anxiety as he waited for her to collect her emotions and continue.

“What happened?” Malcolm asked, pulling his horse to a stop and dismounting. It was an effort to keep his voice calm, but he tried for Heather’s sake, though his insides quaked.

“‘Tis the worst.” Heather succumbed to tears, shaking with grief.

“What is it, lass?” Malcom shook her hoping to force her out of her temporary stupor.

“Where’s Mither an’ Carleen?” Thomas strode toward them, his voice betraying his fears.

Heather sobbed, falling against Malcolm’s chest. On instinct, his arms slipped around her. He looked up, his eyes questioning the rest of the villagers approaching with sorrowful expressions.

“The Campbells were here.” Roy strode forward, his red eyes weary with similar grief—his right eye swollen and his lip cut. Even in his late fifties, Roy was healthy and robust. It would have taken several men to bring him low. “They took Iona an’ Carleen.”

“Took them?” Thomas gave the elder man a look of disbelief. “Where?”

“How long ago?” Malcolm pressed Heather into the arms of her mother who came up behind her. He turned back to his horse and prepared to mount.

“Nay! There’s too many o’ them. Sixty or more.” A strong hand grabbed his shoulder. “Listen to me, lad. Ye canna help yer mither an’ sister if ye’re dead.”

“I’ve time to catch them if I leave now.” Malcolm pulled away. More hands grabbed him. He didn’t want to fight his own kinsmen, but they wouldn’t deter him from his mission. He had to act now before it was too late.

“Let me go!” Thomas yelled, fighting a similar battle.

“I’ve got ’im, Da.” Strong arms belted around Malcolm’s neck and jerked him backward, cutting off his air. Malcolm coughed. He swung his elbow into Alan’s ribs.

“Argh!” Alan¬ relaxed his hold, but didn’t let go.

“Listen to reason, lad. The rest o’ us are too auld an’ wounded to be fightin’ ye.” A fist from another angle slammed into his jaw. “But fight ye, we will, if it’s the only way to save yer life.” Roy’s voice echoed over the multiple hands and arms keeping him down.

Never had the villagers fought him like this. More dread pooled in the pit of his stomach as he realized there had to be a reason for their adamancy. What had they not yet told him? They were right. How could he and Thomas expect to best sixty or more Campbell men? This feat would require his wits, and he wasn’t thinking, only reacting.

“All right.” He clenched his teeth, willing his body to relax against their resistance. “Tell me why I shan’t go after them. It does not make sense to lose precious time.”

Following Malcolm’s example, Thomas also surrendered.

“Duncan Campbell came to collect the rents,” Roy said. “But he arrived with an army of warriors. He did not come hither on business as he claims. His purpose was to cause trouble an’ he chose yer family to be the example.”

“They were not supposed to come for another fortnight.” Malcolm jerked away from Alan who sported a bloody lip, already swelling, and a long sword gash upon his arm. Malcolm frowned. Only the Campbells would have been carrying broadswords. Blood soaked Alan’s sleeve, probably more so from his skirmish with Malcolm. Guilt lacerated Malcolm’s emotionally scarred heart. How long must they go on living like peasant pawns for the Campbells’ entertainment?

“They did all this over unpaid rents?” Malcolm lifted his hands in disbelief. “We took the cattle to market an’ we now have the rent. ‘Tis all for naught!” His voice cracked as he ran a hand through his hair. A deep ache twisted his gut.

“Listen to Da.” Alan wiped the back of his hand across his lip. “We need a plan. The Campbells want us to come after them in a mad rage. They have the king’s favor an’ all the wealth they need. We canna fall into their trap again.”

“We can gather more MacGregors an’ break into Kilchurn Manor.” Thomas walked over. The others stepped aside to let him through. “We’ll get Mither an’ Carleen out.” “We canna abandon them.”

“‘Tisn’t that simple. I wish it were.” Roy rubbed a wrinkled hand over his weathered face with a broken sigh. “Even if we gather more MacGregors from other parts of Argyll, we may not be strong enough to break through Duncan Campbell’s forces. He has too many allies. If we succeed an’ bring them home, how will we stop them from coming again?”

Roy and Alan stood still, watching Malcolm and Thomas as though they would tackle them again if need be. More villagers crowded around. All of them looked like a sorry lot, the men having been beaten, the women wearing expressions of grief and sorrow. Soot layered their faces, arms, and clothing.

"‘Tis possible they have taken them to a debtor’s prison,” Mary MacGregor maneuvered around her husband and son, “since yer mither did not have the rent money.”

“If that is the case,” Malcolm said. “They will have to release Mither an’ Carleen once I pay the rent.”

“Duncan raised the rents again, plus he’s charging interest,” Mary said. “He took our furniture an’ burned what he did not want.” Tears filled her eyes. “William an’ Graham are young an’ foolish to try to fight them. They killed William this day. How many more do ye think we can stand to lose?”

“An’ Graham?” Malcolm staggered at the news. He closed his eyes, rubbing his brows. William and Graham were inseparable. Had Graham suffered the same fate? Heather broke into more weeping and Malcolm’s chest tightened. The lass had been sweet on their youngest brother as soon as they could walk. Now he understood the extent of her grief. “Where is Graham? Did they take him, too?” Malcolm clenched his fists at his sides, attempting to calm the rising tide of anxiety. “Is he alive?”

“Aye, but barely,” Roy said. “I’m sorry, Malcolm. We tried to fight them, but there were too many . . .”

“Take us to ‘im,” Thomas said in a gruff voice, moving to stand beside Malcolm.

“Greg and Colin are tendin to ‘im. The Campbells beat him bad an’ hung ’im on a tree.” Roy’s voice faltered. “To make an example out o’ ‘im.”

“By the neck?” Malcolm followed Roy and Alan to their hut. Fear clawed at his heart and gripped his lungs, stealing the breath from him.

“Nay,” Alan said. “With his arms spread out. We think both shoulders are dislocated.”

They stopped before entering Roy’s hut. “They left us only one bed, so that is where we put ’im.” Roy held up a palm and shook his head. “Prepare yerself, lads.”

Malcolm bent through the threshold and blinked, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim candlelight. Their small huts contained no windows for daylight to filter inside. He walked across the dirt floor to the tiny bed. Graham’s long legs hung over the side. His height matched Malcolm’s at six-four. Among the three brothers, Thomas was the shortest, shy of them by a couple of inches.

Colin looked up from where he hunched over stitching a wound in the lad’s side. Greg cleaned his bruised face from the other side. Neither of them spoke as they concentrated on their tasks.

Both Malcolm and Thomas dropped to their knees. Thomas groaned and gulped back a threatening cry. Malcolm searched for his voice, but it lodged in his throat as a sickening pain clutched his soul and wouldn’t let go. They stayed that way for several moments, trying to make sense of it all.

Colin cleared his throat. “The lad fought bravely, like a Highland warrior if ever I saw one.”

Graham disliked fighting. Unlike the rest of them, who thrived upon the sword, Graham had preferred his wits to outsmart the wretched Campbells. He held out in stubborn pride believing forgiveness and reason would bridge the great divide between the Campbells and MacGregors. Today, he had discovered the truth and his faith had almost cost him his life.

“Is he . . .” Still unable to say it, Malcolm laid a hand on Graham’s chest. A faint heartbeat pulsed beneath his palm. Malcolm closed his eyes in relief.

“He passed out from the pain when I reset his shoulders back into the sockets,” Greg said. “As soon as Colin stitches his side, we’ll bind his ribs.”

“At least he’s alive,” Thomas said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I always teased him about being the bonny son. Now look at ’im. I fear he won’t ever be the same again.”

“Graham was never vain.” Malcolm gripped Graham’s limp hand. “I worry ’bout the lad’s spirit an’ his broken ideals. He will blame himself for not saving Mither an’ Carleen. No doubt, he will feel naïve he ever thought reconciliation with the Campbells was possible.”

“Aye, ’twill take him a while to recover,” Thomas said with a sigh. “Did Mither an’ Carleen see what happened to ’im?”

“Nay,” Colin shook his head. “The Campbells split up. Scott Campbell took them away, while his father stayed behind to cause more damage.” Colin rubbed his eyebrows and sat back. “That one has the heart of the devil, he does.”

“I shall get revenge for our family an’ the whole MacGregor Clan. The Campbells have wronged us for two centuries. They have tried to wipe out the MacGregor Clan, an’ here we survive against all odds.” Malcolm raised a fist and growled. “This time, I care not what it takes.” Malcolm turned to Roy. “We shall send a scout to Kilchurn Manor to see if Mither an’ Carleen are being held there and the nearest debtor’s prison. We will move our family to Glenstrae under the protection of the MacGregor Clan Chief.” He shoved a hand on his hip and rubbed his eyebrow, fighting the onslaught of a headache and too much regret. “Should have done it a long time ago after Da died.”

“Ye were but a wee lad.” Roy shook his head. “Do not do this to yerself. ’Tisn’t yer fault.”

“Aye, ’tis time. I’ve tarried long enough. I almost lost my family because of it.” Malcolm glanced down at Graham, fear spiking inside him. He hoped it wasn’t too late.

* * *

"Where ye going?”

Lauren Campbell jumped with a start, throwing a hand over her hammering chest. She placed a finger across her lips to shush her sister of ten and two. A quick glance around the busy kitchen assured her no one paid them any attention. Cook put away uneaten food, while the rest of the servants cleaned up where the Campbells had broken their morning fast.

“Do I have yer word to say naught?” Lauren peeked at her sister’s wide brown eyes, curious as Blair twisted her lips into a mischievous grin.

“If ye take me with ye.” Blair nodded, her sandy, brown hair slid over her face. She brushed the long strands out of her eyes with an impatient sigh.

“I canna.” Lauren shook her head, biting her lower lip as she placed biscuits in a basket. “’Tis dangerous where I’m going.”

“Where?” Blair sidled up to the counter beside Lauren, excitement building in her tone.

“I’m going to the ancient castle of Kilchurn.” Lauren’s heart swelled as her sister’s eyes widened in admiration.

“All alone? Ye know Da would not approve if he was home.” Blair lowered her voice to a whisper. “He will be angry if ye do not take cousin Keith.”

“Keith is studying to take orders next week and will give his first sermon.” Lauren whispered, touching the tip of her sister’s nose and grabbing a block of cheese. “I canna interfere with the Lord’s work. Besides, Kilchurn Castle is part of our estate. ‘Tisn’t as if I’m leaving the grounds.”

“But ye’re leaving Kilchurn Manor,” Blair said.

“’Tis only a short ride.” Lauren covered the basket with a cloth and tucked in the edges. She paused, considering her sister’s hopeful expression.

“I want to go, please.” Blair linked her fingers as if she was about to pray. She wore the Campbell plaid over a dark blue dress and frowned with a sulky pout as she crossed her thin arms. “Lauren?”

“Run along and get ready. Meet me at the stables,” Lauren said. “I shall see that your horse is saddled and ready.”

Blair disappeared. Her footsteps pattered down the hall. Lauren chuckled and shook her head, knowing the child ran in haste. She hoped Blair would not tumble into one of the servants. With her basket of goods in tow, Lauren let herself out the side door and made her way to the stables.

It was a crisp morning, bright with sunshine and promise. Lauren loved the ancient relic of Kilchurn Castle now crumbling on the far side of Loch Awe. The short journey would take them less than an hour on horseback. On the days she walked the grounds, Lauren loved imagining what it must have been like centuries ago when the castle passed from the MagGregors to the Campbells through marriage.

Lauren entered the shaded stables. “Aidan?” Lauren called to the stable lad. “Are ye there? Blair are going for a ride.” No one answered. Strange. Lauren shrugged and stepped back, trampling on a pair of booted feet. A man’s hand clamped over her mouth, shoving a piece of cloth inside to silence her scream. Another hand pulled her by the hair and jerked her back against his hard body. Her basket of goods went flew over a nearby stall. The horse inside stomped and snorted.

“I took care o’ the lad,” said a gruff voice at her ear. “Just needed to get ’im out o’ the way. ’Tis Duncan Campbell’s daughter I want.”

Lauren’s heart pounded in her ears as she kicked behind her, but he slammed a fist against her temple. Pain sliced through her head. He wrapped an arm around her neck, cutting off her air, and dragged her into a dark corner.

“Lauren?” Blair called. Her footsteps came closer. “Are ye here?”

Closing her eyes, Lauren stopped struggling, praying God would spare her sister. The man breathed heavy at her ear, his grip intense. To Lauren’s relief, he appeared to be alone, and he did not go after Blair.

“Aidan?” Her sister sighed with frustration. “Where did everyone go?” She stomped out of the stables and back toward the manor.

As soon as Blair disappeared , the man slipped a knife to Lauren’s throat. “Go.” The blade nicked her skin as he pushed her forward, leading her out of the stables on the other side. The gag tied in her mouth made her jaw ache and dried her tongue. He dragged her into the woods where a horse waited.

Lauren tripped over a fallen branch, but he caught her and shoved her against a tree. Her bruised hip stung as he pulled her arms behind her and bound her hands. The man slung her over his horse and mounted up behind her. Between a dizzy spell and a wave of nausea, she caught a glimpse of his MacGregor plaid.

They rode toward Inverawe where Lauren often visited the poor and brought them food. Iona and Carleen MacGregor always welcomed her and shared their faith. Iona’s sons were not quite as friendly, but Graham was open-minded and kind. As the youngest, Lauren supposed he wasn’t as set in his ways as the other two. He was closer to Lauren’s age at twenty.

When they arrived at the village, Lauren wasn’t prepared for the devastation she witnessed. Ashes simmered in gray piles. Grief-stricken faces glared at her with hatred. Several people spit at her and one threw a rotten onion at her. The putrid smell made her stomach roll.

They came to a pile of rubble that should have been Iona and Carleen’s hut. Hot smoke still pumped from the smoldering remains. Lauren’s stomach tightened as tears sprang to her eyes. Her father and brother were supposed to arrive here and collect the rents. Surely, they were not responsible? Her heart ached, fearing it was the truth she wanted to deny.

Her abductor stopped at one of the huts, pumping smoke through the chimney. He grabbed Lauren by the arm and yanked her down. She stumbled to her feet, finding it hard to regain her balance. He pushed her toward the door as others surrounded them.

“Why did ye bring a Campbell ’ere?” a woman asked. “Do ye not think they have caused enough trouble?”

“Aye,” a man said. “The whole lot o’ them will come looking for ’er.”

“Malcolm! Thomas!” Lauren’s captor ignored them and banged on the worn wooden door. “Open up. I have Lauren Campbell.”

The door swung open and Malcolm’s tall form ducked under the threshold. He crossed his arms with a menacing scowl. “Colin, ye were supposed to find my mither an’ sister, not bring back a hostage.”

“Iona an’ Carleen were not at Kilchurn.” Colin’s words came out in a rush, as he tightened his grip on her. “But she was.”

“What are we supposed to do with her?” Malcolm pointed at Lauren, venom coating his tone. “This was not the plan.”

“We have no plan since they were not at Kilchurn,” Thomas said, coming to stand behind Malcolm. “Mayhap, she can be the plan. Who else is goin’ to be as important to Duncan?”

“She canna stay here,” another man said. “Her father will destroy the whole village lookin’ for her.” “Aye, but she’s here now Mary MacGregor said. “The damage is done. Ye should best make the best o’ her situation. Could we exchange her for Iona or Carleen?”

Shock vibrated through Lauren. What had her father done? While the MacGregors had never been cruel to her, most were wary and reluctant to befriend her except Iona and Carleen. Now that the villagers had good reason to be seething in anger and resentment, she had no idea how far they would go in using her. She wondered if anyone at home had discovered her disappearance.

“What if he comes back an’ burns the rest o’ our homes?” a woman asked.

“Heather, he owns all these huts. If he burns them all, he canna rent them out.” Malcolm scratched his temple and glanced at Lauren. “Remove her gag. She may know something.”

“How ye plan to get ‘er to talk?” Colin asked, jerking at her bindings. The cloth fell from around her head, and Lauren spit out the other piece.

“Speak up, lass.” Malcolm stepped toward her, his height more like a tower than a mere man. “Where did yer da take my mither an’ sister? The sooner we find out, the sooner negotiations can begin an’ ye can go home.”

“All I know is that he intended to collect the rents and go to the harbor.”

“The harbor?” Thomas joined his brother, his palm up against the side of his head, pondering the possibilities. “Why would he do that?”

“Only one explanation,” an older man said, lifting a finger. All eyes turned to him. “To sell them. What else?”

The women gasped, some wept, while the men groaned and complained in outrage. Colin jerked Lauren by the arm and shoved her to the center. “We have one of their own!” She stumbled and fell to her knees. He pulled her hair. Fire burned her scalp. She prayed her neck wouldn’t break from the pressure. Tears stung her eyes. Lord, I thank you for sparing Blair.

“What would Duncan do to save this bonny face?” An elderly woman bent to squeeze Lauren’s cheeks. The others came at her all at once with raised hands. Lauren closed her eyes, expecting a beating.

“Stop!” Malcolm’s firm voice sliced through the mob like a king. With the MacGregors scattered throughout Campbell lands that used to belong to the MacGregors, none of them had a clan chief. The exception was Glenstrae farther north in the heart of the Scottish highlands. Yet, no one laid a hand on her. They obeyed Malcolm out of respect.

“Let us think about our actions an’ how the Campbells might retaliate.” Malcolm lifted his hands and pointed in the direction of Kilchurn Manor. “As long as the lass lives an’ remains unharmed, we have something to bargain. None o’ us wanna worry ’bout being murdered in our beds at night or forced to flee to the hills again.”

Eyes widened, mouths dropped open, and heads shook back and forth in slow motion. Some of the villagers’ skin turned paler. They backed away from her.

“Duncan an’ Scott Campbell have a good head start. At this point, we would be guessing which harbor they went to an’ taking the lass at her word,” Malcolm said.

“Taynuilt Harbor is the closest,” Roy said. Lauren had heard one of the others call him by name. He was a middle-aged man who looked at her with so much malice her skin itched and burned. “’Tis on Loch Etive an’ leads out to sea.”

“Aye.” Malcolm nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “First, I want to ensure Graham’s safety ’til he heals, as well as the villagers. I shall find her wretched father.” His boiling gaze landed on Lauren and their eyes met. If the good Lord hadn’t been holding her together, she might have crumbled in fear, but Lauren not only found the courage she needed, but managed to lift her chin and kept her peace. Later in solitude she would bear her burdensome fear to the Lord.

“Let us bring her inside while we tend to Graham an’ make our plans,” Malcolm said, turning to the others.

Colin shoved her. Lauren stumbled into Malcolm. He reached out a steady hand and gripped her arm. She assumed the action was only out of instinct, not for her welfare.

“What happened to Graham?” The words tumbled through her lips. Of all the MacGregor men, he had always been kind to her.

Malcolm paused, his lips twisting in anger. “Yer da ordered him beaten. They tied him to a tree, pulled an’ tortured him ’til his shoulders snapped out o’ the sockets. They murdered his best friend, William.”

Lauren cringed as her mouth drained dry and her stomach twirled. The temptation to deny his words frayed at the edge of her mind, as she followed him inside.

Malcolm directed her over to a large figure lying motionless on a small bed. A candle burned on a makeshift table beside him. She took small steps, her heart pounding into her throat.

“Graham?” Lauren leaned over him, taking in the sight of his bruised and disfigured face. The memory of his handsome features were like a vision. Graham didn’t respond. Deep sorrow filled her soul as she imagined what agony he must be enduring. “My . . . da . . . did this?”

“Aye,.” Malcolm’s tone dripped with bitterness. “I was not here, but they tell me he tried to protect my mither an’ sister—yer friends.” He emphasized the last words as if she had betrayed them herself.

“They are my friends,” she whispered, unable to wipe at her tears with her hands bound behind her. Bile rose to the back of Lauren’s throat, threatening to overcome her. Graham’s wounds would be branded in her brain forever. What would become of Iona and Carleen? She slid to her knees as grief wracked her body. Lauren had never been able to deny the emotional tug of compassion. While she wondered what was to become of her, Graham’s grave condition weighed upon her heart along with the spiritual state of the souls within her father and brother.

Lauren turned and tried to wipe her cheek on her shoulder. Malcolm strode toward her, his mouth set in a grim expression. She resisted the desire to cower and forced her muscles to remain still.

Vintage Art by Kate Greenaway in Public Domain

2013-08-12T08:39:00.001-04:00

By Jennifer Hudson Taylor

#publicdomain #vintageart

Below are a few art images of Kate's work. Most of her artwork was published in children's books and almanacs. If you are interested in the life of Artist Catherine "Kate" Greenaway, I have posted a bit about her bio here.

Jesus' Life, Death & Resurrection Displayed in Statues

2013-07-22T07:56:00.001-04:00

By Jennifer Hudson Taylor

Over the weekend we went for an afternoon ride and discovered a beautiful story told in statue displays. I thought they were too beautiful not to share. I'll let the story of each image speak for itself as shown below. This is a hidden treasure at the St. Joseph Vietnamese Catholic Church in Charlotte, NC.

Rose Maynard Barton 19th Century Paintings

2013-07-15T06:54:00.000-04:00

By Jennifer Hudson Taylor

#publicdomain, #vintageart

Rose painted watercolor images of landscapes, street scenes, gardens, children, and various illustrations in England and Ireland. She was born in Dublin in 1856. Her paintings are in the public domain. Below are a few of my favorites.

Grandfather in the garden with his granddaughter

Horseback riding on the beach

Crowd enjoying the park and women carrying parasols

Street scene of carriage and people at Westminister

Women walking in park

Street scene of people waiting on Royalty

Claude Monet Paintings of 19th Century

2013-07-07T21:33:00.000-04:00

By Jennifer Hudson Taylor

As the founder of the French Impressionist movement, Claude Monet captured movement against the back drop of nature scenes. Many of his paintings show people living active lives, while others depicted beautiful landscapes. He lived between 1840 - 1926 and spent several years in Paris where he painting most of his art.

Monet's art is old enough to be in the public domain. Many of the women in his paintings are of his wife, Camille. I have included a few of my favorite images below.

1868 - Lady on the bank of the Siene River

Boardwalk at Trouville

Ships in Harbor

Couple in Woods, Claude Monet & wife Camille

Couple by the Sea - 1866

Lady on Bench in Garden with man behind her.

Lady in Green - 1866

Lighthouse at La Havre

Outdoor Picnic - 1865

Outdoor Picnic in Paris - 1865

Train traveling in the winter snow - 1875

Train Depot at St. Lazare

Woman in colorful garden - 1867

Woman sewing - 1875

Woman carrying parasol in a field with a friend - 1875

Women by a tree on a walking path - 1866

Two women in the woods, one painting and the other reading

God's Faithful Promises - In the Midst of Adversity

2013-07-01T19:20:00.000-04:00

By Jennifer Hudson Taylor

"Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful." (Hebrews 10:23 NKJV)

After reading this verse, you may wonder, what are God's promises? Over the last few months, I have been writing devotions on God's Faithful Promises. You can review them at the links below.

~ Introduction: Join Me in Discovering God's Faithful Promises
~ Three Kinds of Promises from God
~ Nothing Can Separate Us From God's Love
~ Spiritual Salvation
~ Our Spiritual Adoption
~ God's Promise Through the Rainbow

The list above is only the beginning of some of God's promises to us. Once we know these promises, we must believe and trust that God is faithful to His promises. It's one thing to believe that He CAN fulfill His promises, but another to TRUST that He WILL fulfill them. Hebrews 10:23 says that God is faithful to His promises.

The verse above also tells us not to waver in our confession of hope. How do we do this when adversity comes and things around us fall apart -- a loved one is in pain or dying, betrayal is penetrating our heart, the bills aren't paid, a loved one self-destructs, or prayers continue to be unanswered days, months....years?

If God's promises are faithful, what does this verse mean when things turn out wrong and so painful? Do some prayers go unanswered? Why are some born to struggle in poverty and others to wealth and privilege? Does God have favorites?

It boils down to trusting in God's sovereignty.

~ God is infinite in wisdom

~ God is perfect in love

~ God is supreme in power & judgment

In Trusting God: Even When Life Hurts by Jerry Bridges, he points out that God is still on the throne and in control of our lives when things are both good and bad. God orchestrates things according to His sovereign will without taking away from our free will by working in the hearts of people. Just because God knows what course a person will choose, doesn't mean He will not still give them the chance to choose. And in knowing, He plans around that person's bad choice, because it may hurt us and others. As a result, He helps us overcome it so that we aren't forsaken, and we are never alone.

We cannot have the free will choice to choose between good and evil if He erased all the evil. This doesn't mean that God causes evil. He created ALL things to be good, even Satan was created as an heavenly angel named Lucifer, but he CHOSE to be evil. The fallen angels (demons) CHOSE evil as well. As a result, some people will CHOOSE evil. All of them have a choice.

For example, it was not God's will for Hitler and the German regime to murder millions of Jews during the Holocaust, but it was His will for the Germans to exist and have free will choice to do good or evil. They were meant to exist--even Hitler. Therefore, God worked in the hearts of Americans and the allied forces to end Hitler's tyranny. The same can be said of the Egyptians and the Israelites, the school bully, the unfair boss.

We do not yet live in a perfect heaven. We live in a fallen world where evil exists. God is holy, supreme, sovereign and cannot exist where sin lives except through the hearts of people. He can only dwell in our hearts if we CHOOSE to believe in Jesus Christ as the one-time sacrifice in our place, that He rose again, and His Holy Ghost Spirit was left behind to dwell in us. This belief cleanses our hearts so His Holy Spirit can dwell inside. When we believe and accept Him, the Holy Spirit becomes our communicator to God through prayer, our teacher through knowledge, and a comforter through peace that surpasses human understanding, an addition to the Holy Word of God (Bible). All of this means nothing, without believing in God's sovereignty.

If we are going to learn to trust God in adversity, we must believe that just as certainly as God will allow nothing to subvert His glory, so He will allow nothing to spoil the good He is working out in us and for us. (from Trusting God: Even When Life Hurts)

"For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope." (Jeremiah 29:11 NKJV)

You WILL be hurt by other people's choices, because God has given them the same free will that He has given you--to choose good or evil.

Sickness and disease will attack people and accidents will happen because we are living in a fallen world full of evil. Some will be healed and given more time and others will not. We don't know how long a person is meant to live, so we must accept God's sovereign will in their lives. Perhaps He is giving them mercy from a lifetime of chronic pain or saving them from a future of something worse. We do not know, so we must trust God to know what we do not.

Remember, He has promised us peace with a future of hope. (Jeremiah 29:11) I believe this promise extends through adversity on earth and into the afterlife in paradise, because nothing can separate us from the love of God, not even death. (Romans 8:38-39)

God's Promise Through the Rainbow (See Beautiful Photo)

2013-06-18T21:28:00.003-04:00

By Jennifer Hudson Taylor

Genesis 9:14-16

(NKJV)

#rainbow

"It shall be, when I bring a cloud over the earth, that the rainbow shall be seen in the cloud; and I will remember My covenant which is between Me and you and every living creature of all flesh; the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh. The rainbow shall be in the cloud, and I will look on it to remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth.”

Lighthouses on The Great Lakes to Visit

2013-06-10T09:34:00.001-04:00

By Jennifer Hudson Taylor

Lighthouses are beautiful and full of history. I enjoy visiting them when I can, and when I can't, I collect miniature lighthouses and paintings of them, including those collector plates. Below is a list of lighthouses on the Great Lakes that I would love to visit.

1. Split Rock Lighthouse

Built in 1909 on a rocky cliff overlooking Lake Superior, the lighthouse is known to be the highest point on The Great Lakes at 130 feet. It's located on the northern side of the lake in Split Rock Lake Park in Minnesota. The lighthouse was equipped with incandescent oil vapor lamp rated at 370,000 candlepower, weighing 5,000 lbs and floats in 250 lbs of mercury. In 1939, the lighthouse was switched to electric power with a 1,000 watt bulb until it was retired in 1969. The area contains 3 light keeper homes.

2. Point Iroquois Lighthouse

Named for the Iroquois warriors massacred in 1662 by Chippewas Indians located in present day Bay Mills, Michigan on Lake Superior. The first lighthouse was built in 1855 at 45 feet tall as a rubble stone tower with a wooden lantern deck with with a flashing white Fourth Order Fresnel Lens. The original lens is on display in the Smithsonian and the lighthouse station is now a museum. In 1871 the second and current lighthouse was built on this site at 65 feet tall made of white brick with the keeper's house right beside it. At the height of operation, it housed 3 families, the head light keeper's family and those of the 2 assistants. A beautiful wall surrounds the premise constructed of various colored rocks found along the Superior Lake shore area.

3. Old Mackinac Point Lighthouse

In 1891, the lighthouse was built as a castle style construction on a foundation of ashlar limestone on Lake Huron. The tower rose to a height of 45 feet and is attached to the light keeper's house, also made of limestone. When the Mackinac Bridge was built in 1957, the lighthouse was no longer needed. The tower is open to the public and a museum is onsite in Michillimackinac State Park.

4. Sturgeon Point Lighthouse

Built in 1869 on Lake Huron, this lighthouse was intended to warn mariners from the reef that extends 1.5 miles. The original lens was replaced in 1887. The tower is made of white brick at 70 feet tall and attached to the light keeper's house. It is still operating and open to tourists, including a museum and store.

The rooms in the house are decorated as they would have been in the late 1800's. In 1874 the Life Saving Station opened and the first lighthouse keeper became the first captain of the surf team. In 1915 the station became part of the U.S. Coast Guard. In 1940 the lighthouse became fully automated and personnel was removed by 1941. It's currently located in Michigan State Park.

5. Tawas Point Lighthouse

The first lighthouse on this site was built in 1853 in Saginaw Bay, Michigan on Lake Huron. The light was fueled by lard oil and later changed to kerosene. Shifting sands and other issues caused several problems and so it was replaced by a second lighthouse in 1875, which is the current lighthouse.

The original name was Ottowa Point, but it was officially changed to Tawas Point in 1902. The current tower is 70 feet tall and constructed of brick with an inner and outer wall. The keeper's house is being remodeled. The downstairs will be a museum and the upstairs available for rent to the public. The lens is still in operation.

6. Grosse Point Lighthouse

The lighthouse was built in 1873 after several maritime disasters. Shoals continued to be a hazard and shipping traffic increased. In 1860 the sinking of the Lady Elgin claimed over 300 lives, but the Civil War prevented the construction of needed lighthouse until after the war. The 113 foot tower is one of the tallest on the lakes and the Second Order Fresnal Lens is the most powerful on the US side of The Great Lakes and is still in operation. It's located on the northern edge of Northwestern University campus next to a small beachfront park in Evanston, Illinois on Lake Michigan.

The tower stands on a concrete foundation with wooden piles that reach to a depth of 30 feet. The tower's 2 outer walls include an inner air space between them. The tower lantern is of glass and iron construction and is topped by a copper sheeting roof. The building is designed in an Italianate architecture. This lighthouse tower and building is open to visitors.

7. Wind Point Lighthouse

One of the oldest and tallest active lighthouses on the Great Lakes at 108 feet is located at the north end of Racine Harbor in Wisconsin. Dating back to 1880, the beacon was originally powered by a 3-wicked kerosene lamp and magnified by a Third Order Fresnel Lens. It was converted to an electrical operation in 1924, and replaced by a DCB-24R airport beacon in 1964. The Village of Wind Point maintains the lighthouse and grounds and uses the old keepers' quarters as the village hall and police headquarters.

The Kate Kelly was a schooner that sank in 1895 off the coast of Wind Point, Wisconsin. On the morning of May 13, a storm broke out across Lake Michigan, sinking several ships including the Kate Kelly. There were no survivors and the bodies of the crew were never found.

8. North Point Lighthouse

The current station sits on a bluff overlooking the entrance to the Milwaukee River from Lake Michigan. The first lighthouse was built in 1855 of cream city brick and it burned mineral oil. A new lens was installed in 1868 and is still in use. Due to erosion, another lighthouse made of cast iron was built on the site in 1888. It was not tall enough and trees obstructed the light. A new tower was begun in 1912 and the original tower was lifted on top of it at a total of 74 feet tall. The place where the 2 towers merge is clearly visible by the center horizontal ridge shown in the photo. The present light is a 25,000 candlepower lamp rotated electrically and controlled by an automatic time clock, visible for 25 miles.

9. Cana Island Lighthouse

This lighthouse was established in 1870 just north of Baileys Harbor in Door County, Wisconsin on Lake Michigan and is still operational with the original Third Order Fresnel lens. The keepers quarters, privy and tower were made of cream city brick, but the brick of the tower quickly deteriorated due to storms and icy winters. In 1902, a steel cladding was wrapped around the original brick of the 89 foot tower to protect it from further deterioration. The stone foundation goes below ground 4 feet and is set on bedrock. There are 102 cast iron steps in the circular staircase leading to the watch room.

The keeper's house is attached and made of cream-colored Milwaukee brick. The cast iron lantern at the top of the tower has 2 levels--a watch room at the top of the tower with the lantern room above containing the lens. It used to be fueled by lard, later by kerosene, then by acetylene. The round ball at the top is the vent that removed the smoke and soot from the oil lamp. Each night oil had to be carried to the top of the tower by the keeper or his assistant to keep the light fueled until electricity was installed in 1945.

10. Point Betsie Lighthouse

The lighthouse was built in 1858 at on the northeast shore of Lake Michigan at 52 feet above lake level. In 1875 the life saving station was built. The light was originally equipped with a Fourth Order Fresnel lens Fourth Order with bullseye, which was upgraded to a Third Order in 1880. The cylindrical tower is 39 feet tall on a dune. It is attached to the Lighthouse keeper's house, which was upgraded to an attractive gambrel roof design. Point Betsie was manned for 106 years and was the last lighthouse on Lake Michigan to lose its keeper when it succumbed to automation in 1983.

The keeper's house has been converted to apartments for Coast Guard Personnel and is not open to the public. The beach must take an unusually harsh pounding from Lake Michigan storms, because there has been much shoring up with concrete and steel breakwaters and aprons.

11. Marblehead Lighthouse

At the entrance of Sandusky Bay on Marblehead Peninsula sits the oldest active lighthouse on the US side of the Great Lakes on Lake Erie. Built in 1822 of native limestone, the tower was originally 50 feet tall, but was raised to it's present 65 feet between 1897 and 1903. Over the years 15 lighthouse keepers served the tower beacon, two of whom were women. The first keeper was Benajah Wolcott, a Revolutionary War veteran and one of the first settlers on the peninsula. He and his family lived in a small stone home on the Sandusky Bay side of the peninsula. Each night, he lit the wicks of the 13 whale oil lamps, the original light fixture. Upon his death in 1832, his wife Rachel took over his duties. In 1858 the whale oil lamps were replaced by a Fresenel lens lit from a single kerosene lantern.

A lifesaving station was built 1 1/2 mile west of the lighthouse in 1876. Lucien Clemons and his 2 brothers saved 2 sailors from a shipwreck off the peninsula on May 1, 1875. In 1880, the lighthouse keeper's household moved to a wooden frame home next to the lighthouse. An electric light replaced the kerosene lantern in 1923 and the beacon was automated in 1958.

The current lens projects a green signal that flashes every 6 seconds and is visible for 11 nautical miles. The distinctive green distinguishes the lighthouse signal from white lights coming from planes. It is part of the Marblehead Lighthouse State Park and the victorian style keeper's home is open as a museum and the tower is open to visitors.

12. Lorain Harbor Lighthouse

Constructed in 1917 by the Army Corps of Engineers, the lighthouse has stands on Lake Erie. It was taken out of service in 1965 and replaced by an automated light on nearby breakwater. It is built on a concrete pier and reinforced with steel. It is 51 feet tall with a Fourth Order Fresnel lens. The original fourth order Fresnel lens was removed in 1965 and the lighthouse was nearly demolished. Local residents saved it, however, and today the light is owned by the Port of Lorain Foundation.

13. Fairport Harbor Lighthouse

Located in the village of Fairport Harbor on Lake Erie, Ohio, the lighthouse was built in 1871 and has a 60 foot tower with a detached keeper's house. The light was decommissioned in 1925. In 1945 the Coast Guard turned over ownership to the town.

The tower is open to the public and the keeper's house serves as a museum and gift shop. Visitors can climb the lighthouse for a view of the harbor.

14. Barcelona Lighthouse

The 40-foot tower was constructed of natural fieldstone in 1829 on Lake Erie overlooking Barcelona Harbor in the Town of Westfield, New York in response to increased shipping traffic after the opening of the Erie Canal. The light was lit by 11 lamps with 14-inch reflector. It was the first lighthouse in the world to be powered by natural gas, which the keeper transported from a burning spring about a mile by wooden pipes. In 1859, the lighthouse was deactivated, but still stands in private ownership.

The image to the left was taken around 1900.

15. Fort Niagra Lighthouse

In 1726, the French built Fort Niagara at the mouth of the Niagara River on the south shore of Lake Ontario in New York state. The fort itself resembles a castle structure. The early lighthouses on this site were built on top of the fort, placed there after the British captured the fort in 1759 during the French and Indian War. Therefore, the first lighthouse on the site was established around 1782. In 1872 the current octagonal limestone tower was put into service with a Fourth order Fresnel lens. In 1900 the tower was raised in height by 11 more feet to a total of 61 feet.

In 1993, when trees grew to a height that obscured the light, a modern beacon was put into service and Fort Niagara Light was deactivated. Today the fort and lighthouse are part of Fort Niagara State Park. A gift shop and museum are part of the lighthouse display, and the fort features excellent examples of early military architecture and engineering.

Photos of Fort Niagra and Fort Niagra Lighthouse were taken by Rudy and Alice from there great website on lighthouses. here.