Civil Warriors: A story of Love and Possession
There were things the Sagamores could and could not do:
William defied all social norms.
Georgie could be trusted with any secret.
Georgia Anne did as she pleased.
And, John Richard would kill a man for hurting her.
William could not keep his feelings hidden.
Georgie could not let an innocent man die.
Georgia Anne could not be a slave.
And, despite going to hell, John Richard could not stop loving her.
~~ Excerpt ~~
The hot ice of Eleanor’s voice brought the world back with crashing awareness. The center of the Conrac Ball was not the place to kiss Georgia Anne, to hold her intimately.
Eleanor stood shoulder to shoulder with Augusta Conrac and her husband Jesse Senior. Doctor Will and Uncle John followed them over, and behind them all, Lucy and Jesse Jr. held twin smirks.
“What do you think you are doing, young man?” Jesse Sr. puffed himself up to his full height of five foot seven.
“I will not tolerate this behavior in my home.” Augusta Conrac pointed to Georgia Anne.
“Hasn’t she caused enough scandal?” Although Eleanor was right up on them, she didn’t lower her voice. “You besmirch the Sagamore name.”
“Littlebit, get your wrap. We’re going home.”
Shaking, Georgia Anne turned away.
Lucy dogged her.
Eleanor opened and closed her fan with exaggerated force. “What an outrageous spectacle. This behavior must cease, at once.”
“We’re leaving, Mother.”
“I demand you remove that negro-hussy from my house.” Mrs. Conrac raised her voice to match Eleanor’s.
“Now, ladies,” Uncle John tried to push the sound down with both hands. “Calm down. He said they were leaving.”
“Leaving, I should hope so.” Jesse Sr.’s head bobbed up and down.
“You should never have brought her,” Eleanor said.
“This is a respectable home,” Augusta reminded them.
“Actually, William brought her—”
“Don’t muddle the issue, Will.” Eleanor shooshed him. “John Richard, I demand you apologize for…for…everything.”
“I demand you atone for the sin you’ve brought into my home.” Augusta nodded, agreeing with herself.
Jesse Sr. said, “This party cost me a fortune, young man. You’ve ruined it. I demand reimbursement. Every penny.”
Eleanor added one more requirement to the list. “I demand you get rid of that niggra.”
“Yes,” Augusta said. “It’s the only way.”
A muscle in John Richard’s lip twitched, as if he would smile. “Demand, and be damned.”
Novelist, Reviewer, Content Editor, Blogger, T-shirt Wearer, and Professional Snacker; Tracy A. Ball is a native Baltimorean and a veteran West Virginian whose family is blended from three cultures. She has opened her home to foster children, drug addicts, AIDS victims, and anyone who needed an assist. She knows people who have committed murder and people who have dined with the pope.
Which is why she writes sweet stories about tough love, tough stories about sweet love, and takes long naps.