By Guest Blogger Elijah A. Smith, Editor-in-Chief, The Register, Blaineton, New Jersey
Miss Stafford, the publisher of this... thing... this web-something-or other, has charged me with writing her articles for the next day. And so I take up my pen. Or whatever this other thing is, It's got letters and numbers and doesn't seem to want a typesetter in the least. Don't that beat the Dutch! Man alive...
Miss Stafford said that I was to "say something" about some of our adventures. These she has related in a set of novels called "The Saint Maggie Series."
I think I'll start with the first book. It's always best to start there.
I'll sum it up this way: A lovely widow owns a boarding house in a little New Jersey town. Her boarders are an eclectic collection who seem to have trouble planking up the cash, if you take my meaning. Maggie is sweet on the fellow who publishes the town's penny-weekly (that' s me) and he is sweet on her, All is going swimmingly and then the Methodist Church asks her to house the new pastor, due to the parsonage getting burned down. Maggie agrees. After all, it would bring in some steady income, be a helpful thing to her church, and might give her establishment a higher tone.
Sadly, the reverse happens.
All hell breaks loose. And that because of a minister.
It was quite a time, I'll tell you. And I hope I never see the like of it again. I don't know for certain, but I think I'm going to be saying that phrase quite a bit while I'm standing in for Miss Stafford.
Feel free to peruse a excerpt from the book at the Store
Egad! Do you mean to tell me you can touch that word "Store" and you end up in a store? What kind of a world is this that you don't even have to go out of your house to get something?
Well, I'm going to skedaddle now. But I'll be back. That is, unless the publisher revokes my privileges.
Janet Stafford, Squeaking Pips Founder