Thanks to the classic Dolly Parton film The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas and ZZ Top’s ode “La Grange,” many people think they know the story of the infamous Chicken Ranch. The reality is more complex, lying somewhere between heartbreaking and absurd. For more than a century, dirt farmers and big-cigar politicians alike rubbed shoulders at the Chicken Ranch, operated openly under the sheriff’s watchful eye. Madam Edna Milton and her girls ran a tight, discreet ship that the God-fearing people of La Grange tolerated if not outright embraced. That is, until a secret conspiracy enlisted an opportunistic reporter to bring it all crashing down on primetime television. Drawn from exclusive interviews and expanded with newly uncovered information, Jayme Lynn Blaschke’s revelatory exposition of the Ranch illuminates the truth and lies surrounding this iconic brothel.

Author Kathy Benjamin accompanies the pioneering women of the Lone Star State’s funeral business. The intimate task of caring for the dead had long fallen under women’s sphere of responsibilities. But after the Civil War, the sudden popularity of embalming offered new financial opportunities to men who set up as undertakers, pushing women out of their traditional role. In Texas, from the 1880s to the 1930s, women slowly regained their place by the bier. Many worked while pregnant or raising children. Most shouldered the additional weight of personal tragedies and persistent sexism. All brought comfort to the bereaved in the isolation of the Texas frontier, kept its cities free of deadly disease and revolutionized an industry that was just coming into its own.

The full account of the 18th-century hanging of a school teacher is detailed in detailed in Carolyn Marvin's dramatic tale.

On a cold December morning in 1768, thirty-one-year-old Ruth Blay approached the gallows erected for her execution. Standing on the high ground in the northwest corner of what is now Portsmouth's old South Cemetery, she would have had a clear view across the pasture to the harbor and open sea. The eighteenth-century hanging of a schoolteacher for concealing the birth of a child out of wedlock has appeared in local legend over the last few centuries, but the full account of Ruth's story has never been told. Drawing on over two years of investigative research, author Carolyn Marvin brings to light the dramatic details of Ruth's life and the cruel injustice of colonial Portsmouth's moral code. As Marvin uncovers the real flesh-and-blood woman who suffered the ultimate punishment, her readers come to understand Ruth as an individual and a woman of her time.

During World War II, an unprecedented number of women
took jobs at aircraft plants, shipyards, munitions factories, and other concerns across the nation to produce material essential to winning the war. Affectionately and collectively called "Rosie the Riveter" after a popular 1943 song, thousands of these women came to the U.S. Army-financed Douglas Aircraft Plant in Long Beach, the largest wartime plane manufacturer, to help produce an astonishing number of the aircraft used in the war. They riveted,
welded, assembled, and installed, doing man-sized jobs, making attack bombers, other war birds, and cargo transports. They trained at Long Beach City Schools and worked 8- and 10-hour shifts in a windowless, bomb-proof plant. Their children attended Long Beach Day Nursery, and their households ran on rations and victory gardens. When the men came home after the war ended, most of these resilient women lost their jobs.

From the 1870s to the turn of the century, while countless men gambled their fortunes in Death Valley's mines, many bold women capitalized on the boom-and-bust lifestyle and established saloons and brothels. These lively ladies were clever entrepreneurs and fearless adventurers but also mothers, wives and respected members of their communities. Madam Lola Travis was one of the wealthiest single women in Inyo County in the 1870s. Known as Diamond Tooth Lil, Evelyn Hildegard was a poor immigrant girl who became a western legend. Local author and historian Robin Flinchum chronicles the lives of these women and many others who were unafraid to live outside the bounds of polite society and risk everything for a better future in the forbidding Death Valley desert.