New Historical Fiction: The Last Dollar Princess by Linda Bennett Pennell

It must be said. Scandal follows her family like a faithful hound. No matter how hard they kick it away, it comes slinking around to insinuate itself into their lives again. Although her family is obsessed with social position, one thing is certain. Heiress India Elisabeth Petra De Vries Ledbetter is an outlier among her kin. She is determined to set her own course, family expectations and society's demands be damned.

Reared away from the social whirl of Gilded Age New York, India would prefer a life of philanthropy in her native Appalachia, but Mother and Grandmama have far grander plans. They believe Mrs. Astor’s old 400 are ready to overlook the past and that an advantageous marriage will cement their place in society once more. In fact, they have already selected the prospective bridegroom. The only problem? No one consulted India.

With captivating insights into the human spirit and heart, The Last Dollar Princess leads us on a riveting quest for self-determination through the most elegant and glamorous settings of the early 20th century. Perfect for fans of Marie Benedict, Daisy Goodwin, and Julian Fellows, this sweeping work of historical fiction will stay with readers long after the last page is turned.

Pick up your copy here! 

Linda Bennett Pennell has been in love with the past for as long as she can remember. Anything with a history, whether shabby or majestic, recent or ancient, instantly draws her in. It probably comes from being part of a large extended family that spanned several generations. Long summer afternoons on her grandmother's wrap around porch or winter evenings gathered by the fireplace were filled with stories both entertaining and poignant. Of course, being set in the American South, those stories were also peopled by some very interesting characters, some of whom have found their way into Linda’s work.

As for her venture in writing, it has allowed Linda to reinvent herself. We humans are truly multifaceted creatures, but unfortunately we tend to sort and categorize each other into neat, easily understood packages that rarely reveal the whole person. Perhaps you, too, want to step out of the box in which you find yourself. Linda encourages you to look at the possibilities and imagine. Be filled with childlike wonder in your mental wanderings. Envision what might be, not simply what is. Never forget that all good fiction begins when someone says to her or himself, "Let's pretend." 

Linda resides in the Houston, Texas, area with one sweet husband and one adorable Labradoodle who is quite certain she’s a little girl.

"History is filled with the sound of silken slippers going downstairs and wooden shoes coming up." --Voltaire  

Find out more about Linda and her books at her website. 

Get all the news on her blog! 

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World Rhino Day 2022

One great thing about the pandemic was the decrease in rhino poaching incidents. Now, COVID-19 is considered to be under control in most places in the world, and along with all the great stuff that implies, poaching incidents are on the rise. 

For those who don't know, rhinos are hunted for their horns because some people wrongly believe that these special horns have a few different medicinal properties and will pay hefty sums for them. 

No. The only one who needs a rhino horn is a rhino. A rhino horn is made of plain old keratin you can find in many other places. You might as well chew your own fingernails, 

But greed and wrongheaded ideas are evergreen. 

Please think about how wonderful these five species of gentle giants are for their respective environments, how few of them are left, and how sad it would be if there were no more of them. 

I'm writing this post before the twenty-second, but you'll be able to catch up with the State of the Rhino Report and lots of fun activities at rhinos.org. 

Thank you! 

Thirteenth Anniversary

Today marks thirteen years since I married Stanley Arthur Coombs. Thirteen was our number: We met on a thirteenth and married on a different thirteenth the following year. We mentioned, at the very least, that it was our day on the thirteenth of every month we were together. 

I wrote some solid things that are still true for our tenth anniversary on this blog, and I don't want to repeat myself. I'll use this space to say that Stanley died in 2016, so this anniversary marks a moment in time when I've survived him almost as long as I was married to him. We only missed celebrating our seventh anniversary together by a month and half, so the marriage still wins by a few months at this point, but the symmetry being so close on "our number" anniversary seems significant to me.

If you know that Stanley was twenty-four years older than me, you might wonder why I was so blindsided that he predeceased me by so many years. 

He always seemed healthy and youthful. The world was a place of new experiences and ceaseless wonder for him. He was never old. His parents also both lived well into their eighties, and I figured he must've inherited some longevity, and we had at least twenty more years ahead of us in 2016. 

I'd forgotten that he'd smoked a pack a day for forty years before he met me. 

It was easy to forget because as soon as I mentioned that I didn't appreciate smoking, he quit. I never saw him with a cigarette. 

If only the cells in his lungs could've forgotten so easily! 

Our short years together compacted an insane amount of love and joy. We did everything right, from finding each other at long last, to not waiting long to marry, to wandering all around the United States and Spain, enjoying life on Earth in all its complexity. 

Our relationship changed to the nonphysical realm too quickly. Tobacco companies stole some two decades from us. Stanley always said, "You gotta die from something." It's true, but I can't help but think that something so stupid and preventable was unworthy of my wonderful husband. 

It was too late by the time I met him. 

It may not be too late for you. 

The present moment is all we have.