by Rebecca Rosenberg
Publication Date: May 28, 2019
Lion Heart Publishing
eBook & Paperback; 312 Pages
One look at Baby Doe and you know she was meant to be a legend! She was just twenty years old when she came to Colorado to work a gold mine with her new husband. Little did she expect that she’d be abandoned and pregnant and left to manage the gold mine alone. But that didn’t stop her!
She moved to Leadville and fell in love with a married prospector, twice her age. Horace Tabor struck the biggest silver vein in history, divorced his wife and married Baby Doe. Though his new wife was known for her beauty, her fashion, and even her philanthropy, she was never welcomed in polite society.
Discover how the Tabors navigated the worlds of wealth, power, politics, and scandal in the wild days of western mining.
Praise for Gold Digger
“Rosenberg’s rollicking Western adventure strikes gold with a gutsy, good-hearted spitfire of a heroine and action aplenty.” —THELMA ADAMS, bestselling author of Bittersweet Brooklyn and The Last Woman Standing
“Gold Digger tells the true story of Lizzie ‘Baby Doe’ Tabor, a beautiful young woman who in 1878 marries the son of a wealthy miner in order to save her family from penury. Shrewd and stubborn, Lizzie fights back-biting Victorian society, wins and loses vast fortunes, and bests conniving politicians in her larger-than-life story. A twisting tale worthy of Mark Twain, with a big-hearted heroine at the center.” —MARTHA CONWAY, author of The Underground River
A California native, Rebecca Rosenberg lives on a lavender farm with her family in Sonoma, the Valley of the Moon, where Jack London wrote from his Beauty Ranch. Rebecca is a long-time student of Jack London’s works and an avid fan of his daring wife, Charmian London. The Secret Life of Mrs. London is her debut novel.
Rebecca and her husband, Gary, own the largest lavender product company in America, selling to 4000 resorts, spas and gift stores. The Rosenbergs believe in giving back to the Sonoma Community, supporting many causes through financial donations and board positions, including Worth Our Weight, an educational culinary program for at-risk children, YWCA shelter for abused women, Luther Burbank Performing Arts Center to provide performances for children, Sonoma Food Bank, Sonoma Boys and Girls Club, and the Valley of the Moon Children’s Home.
Blog Tour Schedule
Wednesday, May 15
Review at Pursuing Stacie
Thursday, May 16
Review at Passages to the Past
Friday, May 17
Review at View from the Birdhouse
Monday, May 20
Interview at Passages to the Past
Tuesday, May 21
Excerpt at Donna’s Book Blog
Friday, May 24
Feature at Just One More Chapter
Monday, May 27
Review at Orange County Readers
Friday, May 31
Interview at Myths, Legends, Books & Coffee Pots
Monday, June 3
Review at A Chick Who Reads
Tuesday, June 4
Excerpt at Maiden of the Pages
Wednesday, June 5
Review at A Book Geek
Thursday, June 6
Review at Comet Readings
Friday, June 7
Review at History From a Woman’s Perspective
Saturday, June 8
Interview at Comet Readings
Monday, June 10
Review & Guest Post at Clarissa Reads it All
Tuesday, June 11
Excerpt at Old Timey Books
Thursday, June 13
Review at Cheryl’s Book Nook
Saturday, June 15
Review at Suzy Approved Book Reviews
Monday, June 17
Author Spotlight at RW Bookclub
Tuesday, June 18
Review at Books In Their Natural Habitat
Thursday, June 20
Review at A Holland Reads
Thursday, June 27
Review at Mama’s Reading Corner
During the Blog Tour, we will be giving away a copy of Gold Digger, a gold facial mask & soap set, and recipe brochure to five winners. Three winners will receive an ebook of Gold Digger.
To enter, please use the Gleam form below.
– Giveaway ends at 11:59 pm EST on June 28th. You must be 18 or older to enter.
– Giveaway is open INTERNATIONALLY.
– Only one entry per household.
– All giveaway entrants agree to be honest and not cheat the systems; any suspicion of fraud is decided upon by blog/site owner and the sponsor, and entrants may be disqualified at our discretion.
– The winner has 48 hours to claim prize or new winner is chosen.
A rare fog obscured the imposing façade of the Tabor Grand. “I lied.” Peter huffed big clouds of breath. “I wasn’t a stage manager in Chicago. I swept floors. I have no idea how to host a performer.” “Why aren’t I surprised?” She frowned. “If you have trouble, leave it to me.”
“But Oscar Wilde as my virgin debut?” He held his wrist to his forehead. “I adore the ground he walks on.”
He’d stirred himself into such a tizzy, she couldn’t help but tease him. “Remember what Mam says about fog?”
“Bad weather?” He blew into his clasped hands.
“Fog foretells that something hidden will soon be revealed.”
“Just the type of blither-blather I need right now.” Peter unrav-eled the fringe of his scarf. “What if I say the wrong thing? I’ve never met an Englishman.”
Thigh-high boots cut through the mist followed by a sweeping cape and wide-brimmed Cavalier hat adorned by an ostrich feather.
“Is that him?” Peter asked.
“Who else would it be?” Baby Doe giggled, astonished by the exotic creature who towered above them by a good two feet.
Under his whirling cape, the famous English poet wore velvet knee-britches and a lace collared shirt. Long hair curled about his shoulders, framing a long, horsey face. His sensuous mouth and languid eyes promised wit, charm and something decidedly wicked.
“Mr. Wilde, welcome to Denver.” Peter bowed, looking rather like a court jester. “I’m Peter McCourt, stage manager of the Tabor Grand. I’m to be your escort.”
“Well, tra, la, la.” He held his hand out for Peter to kiss. Peter’s mouth pursed, then he offered a handshake.
Wilde lowered long lashes. “You’re adorable, Peter. May I call you that? And who is this divine creature?”
“This is my sister, Lizz— This is Baby Doe.”
Still dizzy from her cracked head, she curtsied best she could, holding her plumed hat, remarkably like Wilde’s.
“The Almighty broke the mold when he made you two.” His half-lidded eyes goggled them. “So pretty. And bite-sized.” He snapped his large teeth, making her smile.
“I hope you’ll like your dressing room.” Peter cocked his eyebrow.
“Lead the way, pretty boy.” Wilde took his arm while his coach- man pulled a trolley of trunks.
“I see you plan to teach Denver about fashion, Mr. Wilde,” she said.
“Only one thing to know, darling girl. Fashion is what one wears oneself. What is unfashionable is what other people wear.”
“This way, Mr. Wilde,” Peter said.
Wilde leaned so close to her brother’s ear, he could have nibbled it. “Call me Oscar, dear boy. My closest friends do.”
Peter’s cheeks burned bright as he led them into the Tabor Grand. Wilde pirouetted, his cape swirling around him, taking in the magnificence of the theater. “Flourishes, upon flourishes, upon flourishes.”
“One can never have too many flourishes.” She pointed out their plumes. “I like your hat.”
“You’re the only woman in the world who’d have known the right hat to wear on an occasion like this, Mrs. Doe.”
“Not Mrs. Doe. Just Baby Doe.” So tired of slurking around, she told the truth.
“She’s divorced,” Peter boasted. “And recovering from a horri-ble trauma.”
“I prefer women with a past.” Wilde winked. “They’re always so damned amusing.”
Peter inserted a long skeleton key into the dressing room door. “Don’t give up on love, darling,” Wilde advised her. “One should always be in love. That’s the reason one should never marry.”
“Oh, I’m in love, all right,” she confessed. “But he’s already mar-ried, so I’m living incognito.”
“Incognito is my favorite word besides outrageous.” He twirled a lock of hair on his finger. “We must continue this conversation over absinthe, later?”
“I know just the place,” she said, thinking of Gahan’s.
Peter opened the dressing room door. “We’ve booked a full house for your show tonight. Mr. Tabor was sorry to miss your show but promised to meet us at his theater in Leadville.”
Wilde circled the dressing room Peter decorated, stopping to sniff the sunflowers. Spreading goose-liver pâté on a toast point, he ate it and groaned with pleasure. He draped his body across a Parisian sofa with a salacious grin. “Someone did his homework. All my favorite things.”
Peter twisted the cage off champagne, and Wilde cackled. He held up his glass. “To charming siblings.”
“To charm.” She clinked his glass and set it aside. Champagne added to her wooziness.
“I don’t know that women are always rewarded for being charming,” Wilde said. “I think they’re usually punished for it.”
Peter read the Denver Tribune. “Regardless of what you have heard about Mr. Wilde’s character, he is more famous than any English celebrity except Charles Dickens.”
Wilde’s fingers fumbled tying his silk jabot. “The public has an insatiable curiosity to know everything except what is worth knowing.”
Peter helped him tie his jabot. “Don’t worry, Denver’s ready to hear your advice.”
“It is always silly to give advice.” Wilde bit his lip. “But to give good advice is fatal.”
“On that note, we’ll let you rest before your performance.” Baby Doe gestured to her brother.
“Won’t you stay, Peter?” Wilde plucked a sunflower petal and held it out. “It would really help my jitters.”
Peter took the petal and waved her away. “We will meet you after the show.”
We. She shut the door behind her. Fog foretells that something hidden that will soon be revealed. Mam’s superstitions proved true more often than not.