The Forgotten Debutante
by
Becky Lower
Blurb:
In 1863, fifteen-year-old Saffron Fitzpatrick, along with the
rest of the country, is war-weary. Her entire teenage years have been spent
mourning the dead and following the battles, instead of dancing at her
debutante ball.
Ezekial Boone ran away with his older brothers when he was
just thirteen to join the fighting, thinking it would be great fun. When his
four brothers died during the intense fighting in Chancellorsville, he decided
it was time to return home.
These two souls come together for a brief moment when Saffron
helps Ezekial on his way from the battlefield to the farm. They share a kiss, a
first for both of them, and a fond memory.
Fate brings them together once more, three years after their
first encounter. They find they have more in common than a wild ride through
the city and begin to build a relationship.
Even though the war is over and people are tired of fighting
and death, Saffron and Zeke may not be able to find their happy-ever-after,
especially if an older protective brother and the Army have anything to say
about it.
Where to buy the book:
About the Author:
Amazon best-selling author Becky Lower has traveled the
country looking for great settings for her novels. She loves to write about two
people finding each other and falling in love, amid the backdrop of a great
setting, be it on a covered wagon headed west or in present day small town
America. Historical and contemporary
romances are her specialty. Becky is a PAN member of RWA and is a member of the
Historic and Contemporary RWA chapters. She has a degree in English and
Journalism from Bowling Green State University, and lives in an eclectic
college town in Ohio with her puppy-mill rescue dog, Mary. She loves to hear
from her readers at beckylowerauthor@gmail.com. Visit her website at
www.beckylowerauthor.com
Website: www.beckylowerauthor.com
Facebook: http://facebook.com/becky.lower
Twitter: http://twitter.com@BeckyLower1
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/authorbeckyl/
Blog: http://beckylowerauthor.blogspot.com
Goodreads:
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6159227.Becky_Lower
Excerpt:
New York City
July 15, 1863
Releasing a
shallow breath, Saffron Fitzpatrick glided down the stairs on slippered feet,
avoiding the creaky spots with unerring accuracy from years of practice. She
surveyed the hallway and let out the rest of the air from her lungs. All the
servants were still in the basement, preparing the noonday meal. If she
hurried, she could escape the house undetected. She ran to the back door, her
curls bouncing around her head, and let herself out into the yard.
Heart pounding, she stood, back up against the door, and
listened. No frantic footsteps from inside the house meant her break to freedom
had gone unnoticed so far.
After two days of
being housebound due to the draft riots, Saffron had tired of heeding her
father’s warnings to stay indoors. Even though his motives were sound and he
was only trying to protect her from the roaming mobs, she would surely perish
from boredom if she spent one more moment inside. Although her intent to
breathe some fresh air was dashed, because the city was foul with smoke from
the fires being set around town, she still cherished the freedom of being
outdoors. Her skin erupted in goosebumps at her boldness. She cringed back
against the door as the distant shouts came closer.
But she had a
mission: she needed to see Biscuit. She could certainly get from the family
brownstone to the carriage house in their backyard without running into any of
the rioters, couldn’t she? Talking to a horse beat staring at her bedroom
ceiling. Or reading another boring book. Her intent clear, she pushed herself
away from the door and ran to the small building.
She opened the
door to the carriage house. Diffused lighting came through the windows near the
roofline and the cool air was filled with a familiar, comfortable combination
of hay, horse dung, and leather. Saffron inhaled the scents as she waited for
her eyes to become accustomed to the subdued light. Biscuit nickered a nervous
greeting. She tiptoed across the brick floor toward Biscuit’s stall.
And came to an
abrupt halt.
The apples, which
Saffron kept in a bucket to dole out to the horse, were all gone. As were the
carrots. Someone had been in the carriage house, and possibly still was.
Perhaps one of the marauders had scaled the stone wall surrounding their
backyard, and came in here to set the carriage house on fire. But why would he
have removed all the produce first? Her heart began to beat erratically, and
her hand went to her throat.
She backed toward
the door, hoping if she were quiet, whoever was or had been in the carriage
house would not notice her. She’d go back to the house and sound an alarm.
Then, armed with the servants, she could return and confront whoever was here.
But Biscuit nickered again. If someone was intent on setting fire to the
carriage house, Saffron needed to take her horse into the yard first, then call
for the servants. She picked up a hayfork and made her way forward, her
slippers not making a sound as they moved over the floor. She opened the door
to the stall and found what was upsetting her horse, and the answer to why all
the good treats were gone. A Union soldier was asleep in the hay next to
Biscuit. Lord in merciful heaven! Of all things!
