Dell's Books and Reviews

Welcome to . . .

. . . DELL ISHAM's website.  Dell is an author of history and novels.  You may contact him at

. . . DELL'S books are available from the publisher at

. . . His books can also be found at Amazon Books, ABE Books, Barnes & Noble

. . . And on Kindle


. . . Annie Bloom's Books, 7834 SW Capitol Highway, Portland, Oregon 97219 

. . . The Astoria Bookshop, 31-29 31st Street, Astoria, New York 11106

. . . Bob's Beach Books, 1747 NW Highway 101, Lincoln City, Oregon 97367

. . . North by Northwest Bookstore, Streetcar Village #100, SE Highway 101, Lincoln City, Oregon 97367

 All of Dell's books are available at the Parkland City Library in Parkland, Florida


DELL'S LATEST BOOK is now available!


Advance praise . . .

From Lisa Conner, Manuscript Review, Outskirts Press:  

     "You have such a terrific, unique writing style. . . . This piece is great. You write with vivid description and your dialogue is excellent. I can tell that you have done much planning and preparation in crafting your work. To be able to write a believable piece is no small feat. You obviously have a passion for fiction - it really shines in your characterization and in your voice. Right from the start your work was very engaging and I found myself really connected with what was going on. It is easy to have too much going on too soon - not in your case. Your work is slow and methodical and the manner in which you write helps the reader to really empathize with your characters. You use dialogue in your work to create a certain intimacy and to move the plot forward. You have crafted another quality piece of writing. Bravo!




It's a story of intrigue, corruption, betrayal, and the quest for enormous riches. American history buffs have long wondered, what happened to the Confederate Treasury at the end of the Civil War?  The Knights of the Golden Circle know.  And they have been protecting it ever since. They were once the financiers of the rebellious South; now their descendants survive as an underground paramilitary organization. Their constant adversaries are the Loyal League. In the 1970's, the Knights find themselves with a new problem. Two Oregon legislators decode the signs and discover a map in a dead man's mouth that leads them to South Carolina, where the gold is buried. Finding the treasure may be the easy part; uncovering it and keeping it is quite another matter.


Deep into an isolated swamp of South Vietnam, a young lieutenant is flown to a small village, then informed he is working for the CIA.  From the moment his feet hit the mud he learns that espionage is nothing like the words in an Army manual nor a book of fiction.  Clint McGregor falls in love with a beautiful Vietnamese girl, someone he is warned not to trust.


His real name was Ned Huddleston.  The ex-slave turned cowboy, was an early settler and successful rancher in the northwest corner of Colorado, an area called "Brown's Park."  He was both a friend to the infamous Butch Cassidy and his ranching neighbors.  He also made some powerful enemies.  The life of Isom Dart was never dull and often dangerous.



This brief history of a labor riot in Wyoming Territory in 1885 is out-of-print and is now considered a rare book.  It may be available on the ABE Books website.



Look inside the book . . .

"Rock Springs Revenge"

Chapter 1 -- Chinese Must Go!

       Between the Wasatch Mountains and the Red Desert smoldered a caldron of racial tension, labor strife, and corporate greed.

     A common refrain in Rock Springs, Wyoming Territory, in 1885: "The Chinese Must Go!" The hateful slogan was posted on storefronts and often shouted at meetings.  The sentiment found support in the local press.

     Chinese in southwestern Wyoming in the 1880's lived in fear. Although productive members of society working on the railroad, taking in laundry, or mining coal, they could not trust white people.

     Most of these Asian laborers borrowed money -- approximately the equivalent of forty dollars -- from a hiring agent for passage to America.  The money would later be deducted from their wages.  Improverished and desperate for work, they came alone, leaving their families behind.

     They dressed in blue cotton blouses, baggy breeches, and knee-length socks, modifying their native dress only slightly to accommodate their assigned work. Because they intended to return to China someday, they retained their culture, lived together, and most never learned the English language.  The white immigrants, who prided themselves in becoming "real Americans", resented the Chinese for their cultural attitudes.

     Rock Springs City existed because of the Union Pacific Railroad and the abundant coal in the region.  The coal, essential to the operation of the railroad, must keep flowing from the ground to the railroad, no matter what.

     Rock Springs was a dirty uncomfortable place.  Streets alternated from dusty, muddy, and frozen. In the summer the high desert grit blew into every crevice, into every building, into clothes, into the mouths and noses of residents.  In the winter the temperature often dipped below zero. "The snow never melts in Rock Springs; it just blows back and forth until it wears out," people joked. There were more houses of prostitution and gambling dens than churches.  More illegal beef was sold in local butcher shops than any place in the country, having been rustled from ranches a hundred miles around.

     Men walked the boardwalks of this frontier outpost with a limp, or missing fingers, or scars because of the dangers of their work.  Every man, and many women, carried a pistol or a knife, or had a shotgun close by. Existence in Rock Springs proved to be brutish and often short.

     To the west, a young reporter named Clinton McGregor, toiled at his first job, trying to make a good impression at the controversial Salt Lake Evening Democrat.  He did not know much about Rock Springs, but that would soon change.


Chapter 2 -- Alfales Young

     "How do you like working here, young man?" the gruff editor of the struggling Salt Lake Evening Democrat asked his cub reporter.

     "I like it very much, sir. This is a great opportunity for me. I hope to go far in your company," twenty-year-old Clinton McGregor said, nervously wondering why he was called into the boss' office, which smelled of cigar smoke. He looked around at portraits of old men and maps of the western territories lining the beige walls. Impressive leather bound books filled the tall bookcase behind the seated newspaper editor.

     "Aren't you tired of writing obituaries?" Alfales Young asked in a wheezing voice.

     "No, sir. It's part of my learning experience."

     "Very diplomatic. Maybe you should run for public office."

     "I'm not old enough."

     "I noticed you didn't say you wouldn't. Yes, very diplomatic," Mr. Young said with a smile. "But you'd never have a chance, being a Democrat in this territory."

     "How do you know I'm a Democrat, since I'm not even registered to vote?" 

     "Good God, boy! You're working for the Democrat newspaper and you're loyal to your employer, aren't you?"

     "Of course, sir."

     "See, you're a Democrat."

     "Yes, I guess I am."

     "You weren't here when we started this newspaper back in March. Let me read you something from that first edition." Young pulled a newspaper from the bottom drawer of his big oak desk. "Ah, here it is." He began to read: "As to this paper, we believe that neither the dominant local church, nor other church or combination, should direct the affairs of this Commonwealth; but that rather the people, combining upon the basis of democratic principles, should bring Utah in line with the age in which we live."

     "If I may say so, sir, that is very eloquent."

     "There you go, being a natural born politician again. Do you know who my father is?"

     "Yes. I think most people do."

     "I guess my last name gives it away. There are lots of Youngs here about. My father is no less than the Mormon Prophet Brigham Young and de facto ruler of Utah. He fathered nearly sixty children and I just happen to be one of them. He started the Deseret News in 1850 and I started this competing newspaper on March 2, 1885. I'm not sure if he prays for me or just wants to run me out of business. What little I know about him, I assume the latter. As the editor of this newspaper I know fully the power of the Mormom Church over its members and humbly beg to say that I am free from it."

     With a glint of defiance in his eyes Alf Young re-lit his cigar. He blew smoke toward the hammered copper ceiling. . . .

Website Technology ©2007 American Author. A division of Cevado Technologies. All rights reserved. Privacy Policy