That's right! I'm not only posting three posts in one week (click here and here to read them :)) but I'm also doing two posts in one day! Let me explain why...
For the last few posts, I've been scheduling them to go up ahead of time, just in case I can't make it to WiFi...this is not one such post :) Yesterday, I got a phone call from my local printer and they told me...
"The Rivers of Sorrow is ready for pick up! Here is your total..."
That's right! As of right now, The Rivers of Sorrow is available for purchase! For $14.00+ $3.00 s/h, the 3rd installment of The Battle for Heritage Series could be yours! I can hardly believe it! I've literally been working on this book for five years! Five! And to finally be able to hold it in my hands...unless you've published a book, you've know idea what that feels like :)
To celebrate the release, I've got a few goodies for you! An excerpt from the story, and some of my favorite quotes from the book! Enjoy!
From Chapter 1
January 4th, 1863
“Now, march right over to that tree, Yank. Keep them hands where I can see them!”
Confederate Lieutenant Richard Mason rubbed his eyes. “What now?” he mumbled as the shouting continued. He glanced at his pocket watch: 3:46 A.M. January 4th, 1863, was already upon them.
Groaning, Richard kicked off his blanket and stepped out into the cold Virginia night. “What’s going on out here?” he demanded, not at all happy to be losing sleep because of a troublesome federal prisoner.
Sgt. Tyler Nace turned and saluted his lieutenant and friend. “Sorry to disturb you, Lt. Mason. This yank tried to escape. Cpl. Calling sounded the alarm and we cornered him here. Calling had to shoot before he would surrender, sir.”
Richard frowned as blood dripped from the federal soldier’s left arm. “Sgt. Mason is on duty. Have him see to the fed’s arm. I want the prisoner secured for the night. Double the guard.”
“Yes, sir,” Tyler and Cpl. Jeremiah Calling said in unison, saluting. They led the prisoner to the infirmary. Sgt. Seth Mason moved from tent to tent, treating the wounded as needed. He too was aggravated with the escapee.
Richard’s younger brother checked over the wound. “Clean through. Jeremy, you saved his arm.”
The prisoner remained silent. Tyler studied him, noting the flash in the middle-aged man’s eyes. He’s probably pretty upset about being held prisoner by boys, Tyler thought. He’s old enough to be our father!
Seth finished tying off the bandage. “There, that’ll do it.” Seth winced and held his head. “Do I ever have a headache!”
“You need to get some sleep,” Jeremy stated in his to-the-point way. “You work too hard and too late. Go get some sleep.”
“Later. I’ve still got two tents to check. And after that I need to get these shoes to Eddie,” he said, jerking his thumb towards a pair of used brogans sitting on the desk.
“He could sure use them,” Tyler remarked. “He hasn’t complained, but I know his feet are about froze. He’s been walking around in his socks the last few days.”
Jeremy shook his head and pushed the prisoner toward the tent opening. Tyler joined them outside and the trio made their way back to the prisoners’ hold. Tyler nodded to the guards as they climbed the steps and opened the door.
“I tried,” the prisoner told his groaning comrades. Tyler pushed him past the group and led him to a separate room. They couldn’t risk the prisoner causing an uprising.
Titus Mallory, a Confederate sergeant, arrived to help guard. He walked among the soldiers keeping a sharp eye on them. There wouldn’t be trouble on his watch.
Morning light found the soldiers no warmer than the night before. Winter camp had been made around Moss Neck at Camp Winder following bloody fighting at Fredericksburg on December 13th, 1862.
Richard put on his hat and mounted his horse, Champion. He urged the handsome stallion into a run as they headed for his commander’s headquarters.
Major Alexander “Sandie” Pendleton looked up as Richard entered. “Morning, Lt. Mason. Gen. Jackson’s been waiting for you.”
Richard doffed his hat and nodded as Pendleton checked to see if the General was ready for him. “You may go on in, Lieutenant,” Pendleton said.
Richard saluted Lt. Gen. Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson as he entered the room. Jackson returned his salute. “Do have a seat, Lieutenant.” Richard fought the desire to rake his fingers through his dark auburn hair. When Stonewall stared at him like he was now, Richard imagined the general could see right through him.
Stonewall sifted through his papers. “I hear you and your command had a bit of excitement during the late fighting.”
Richard took a deep breath and replied, “Yes, sir. Two brigades were divided, but God pieced us all back together.”
Something of a smile hinted at the older man’s lips. “Indeed, He did. Our ever-kind Heavenly Father smiled on us during this campaign.” He shuffled through the papers and laid them aside. “Your Capt. Baines is up for a promotion to Major, Lt. Mason.”
He watched Richard’s expression. Noticing a slight change of his countenance, he asked, “Are you disappointed? Perhaps you believe your captain unworthy of the honor to be bestowed upon him.”
“Oh, no, sir!” Richard assured him. “I only feel sorry for our company. Capt. Baines is an inspiring leader, and I wish he could remain in its command. But I do not begrudge him the honor. I suppose to wish him back is selfishness on my part.”
Jackson nodded slowly. “It is. But hardly to be unexpected.” Silence stole over them. Jackson leaned forward and clasped his hands. “Have you a suggestion for company commander?”
Richard thought a moment. “Lt. Tucker would do well, sir…the campaigns of last year were unkind to our officers, sir. There were many wounded or killed, and others had to take spots in other companies.”
“Is Tucker a trustworthy man?” the general inquired.
“To the utmost, sir. By seniority it belongs to him.”
The general nodded again. “The men have elected you.”
Curious yet? Hop on over to my contacts page to place your order today!
And now for some quotes...
Well, that's all for now! Hope you have a fantastic weekend and please, tell your friends about The Rivers of Sorrow!
Writing for Him,
Christian. American. Southern. Author.
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