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Are the experiences in this book based on someone you know?
My grandmother told me about her experience riding in a horse drawn carriage. The horse sometimes took a bathroom break in the middle of a busy cobblestone road to my grandmother’s embarrassment. I created a similar chapter scene that takes place in New York City.
How did you come up with the name of your publishing company?
I thought about it for weeks. The difficulty was finding a term that wasn’t already used with “press,” “publish,” or “media”. I searched for Latin words, star names, elements, and precious metals. Everything was taken. Because I live in Las Vegas, Nevada, I often thought of Desert “something”. “Moon” and “Foothills” and so many other words were taken. Then “day” popped into my head. Desert Day Press sings.
What is your favorite and least favorite punctuation?
I like the em dash—for emphasis. The comma is a troublesome child, but I respect it. My least favorite is the ellipsis. It’s often misused in casual writing. It implies incompleteness and laziness.
How do you select books to read?
Friends in book clubs, podcasts, and editorial suggestions by bloggers.
When do you like to write and for how long?
I’m a morning person for doing anything. But writing often spills into the afternoon. I don’t write based on a fixed time. Rather I stop when I’m satisfied I’ve completed enough for one day.
When her fiancé is away on business, lonely Samantha Hunter despairs and absorbs herself in historical research. Her nighttime dreams being so vivid, Samantha believes she’s traveling to a past century. As she navigates the Victorian era rules of dos and even more don’ts, she charms Ulysses S Grant while struggling to maintain her present-day romance.
Enjoy an Excerpt
During the night, Samantha had a vivid dream. She was in a rural town wearing her Victorian-style dress. The weather was cool so she wrapped the crocheted afghan around her shoulders. And her sockless feet were cold in her slip-on shoes.
The few men she saw were in worn, soiled work clothes and walked with purpose. The so-called roadways were not paved but dirt paths. No cars or trucks, but horses and carts. A few wooden one-story buildings scattered here and there.
This must be a dream in which the clock has been turned back, Samantha thought. But where am I?
She strolled, aware she had not seen any other women. Pulling the afghan around herself snugly, she walked with her head tilted down to avoid catching the eye of any man in whatever this place was, glancing up often to learn more of her surroundings.
Then two women hurried toward her, each carrying a wooden bucket of water. Their cotton dresses hung to their ankles, with full skirts gathered at the waist of fitted bodices. Plain white cotton bonnets covered their heads, and shawls were wrapped around their shoulders. They looked at Samantha disapprovingly. Her dress was too fancy for this rural town. Moreover, she wasn’t wearing a bonnet or hat; a bare head was a means of solicitation by prostitutes. She hugged her body with the afghan, which served as a shawl to hide her uncorseted torso.
The dream seemed authentic. Despite her uneasiness, she thought, Enjoy the dream. If I don’t like it, I’ll wake myself up.
Around a corner, she spotted a few men in uniform. Soldiers. Maybe the army. This might be a small town next to an army fort, Samantha guessed. Still, not a good place for a woman.
About the Author: 
Author Donna Balon debuts Sam Time, a novel well-researched and professionally edited by quality talent from the publishing industry. Donna resides in Las Vegas, Nevada, with her husband.
