Winds of the Storm

Winds of the Storm

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by Beverly Jenkins
     
 

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Archer Le Veq owes his life to the woman who rescued him from certain death at the height of the Civil War...a woman known only as "the Butterfly." Now, in the dark, waning days of Reconstruction, he needs the courageous and beautiful former spy...in more ways than before!

Zahra Lafayette thinks her days of intrigue are far behind her, until she is asked to

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Overview

Archer Le Veq owes his life to the woman who rescued him from certain death at the height of the Civil War...a woman known only as "the Butterfly." Now, in the dark, waning days of Reconstruction, he needs the courageous and beautiful former spy...in more ways than before!

Zahra Lafayette thinks her days of intrigue are far behind her, until she is asked to go on one more mission. Posing as an infamous madam in New Orleans, Zahra must gather information to ensure the safety of the South's freedmen. The last thing she expected was to see Archer Le Veq again. He is as arrogant as he is handsome, but there is something about this dusky and debonair hotelier that sends her senses singing. Zahra knows she will need to guard her secrets, but no peril awaiting her compares with the treachery of Zahra's own heart—for, Lord help her, she burns to taste the man and to lose herself in his powerful embrace.

Product Details

ISBN-13:
9780061736926
Publisher:
HarperCollins Publishers
Publication date:
10/13/2009
Sold by:
HARPERCOLLINS
Format:
NOOK Book
Pages:
384
Sales rank:
67,623
File size:
613 KB

Read an Excerpt

Winds of the Storm


By Beverly Jenkins

HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.

Copyright ©2006 Beverly Jenkins
All right reserved.

ISBN: 006057531X

Chapter One

October 1871
Calhoun County, South Carolina

"But I don't want the job," Zahra Lafayette said, standing on the small front porch of her ramshackle cabin. She let the night's silence resettle before turning to look back over her shoulder at the person who'd made the offer. The intelligent black eyes in the gnarled dark face stared back with a patience Zahra knew all too well. To the world the old woman was known as Harriet Tubman, but to Zahra and others, Harriet was Araminta, the name bestowed upon her at birth. "The Black Butterfly is no more," she added plainly.

"I know, but the president wants you, or no one."

While trying to determine how much of a verbal fight Araminta would put up to convince her to agree, Zahra studied the Carolina night. The moonlit darkness was alive with its nocturnal symphony of frogs, insects and other beasties. Stars were sparkling in the clear skies above. "Under the circumstances, President Grant has quite the nerve asking me for anything."

Seated on an old cane chair, Araminta replied sympathetically, "True, and when I explained the situation to him, he promised he'd look into getting your folks back their land."

Zahra chuckled sarcastically. "He's promised to look into it. What is there to lookinto? My parents helped the Union fight because the Union asked them to, and now, the land that they worked from dawn to dark to pay off is snatched away like a blanket off a child."

"I know, but if you turn Grant down, they'll never see that land."

And therein lay Zahra's dilemma. She had no leverage to make the government give her parents the justice they deserved. In April 1865, her parents, like other freedmen, had been awarded land under General Sherman's Special Order 15. The order had promised each freedmen family forty acres on confiscated Reb land in an area that reached from Charleston, South Carolina, to Florida's St. John's River. The provision had also been included in the congressional act establishing the Freedman's Bureau, but the summer after Lincoln's death, President Johnson forfeited the Blacks' claims and titles.

"We Black folks are looking into the winds of a storm, Zahra," Araminta pointedy out sagely. "That's why the president wants you to find out just how strong those winds are."

"Why choose me?"

"Because you were one of the best dispatches the Union had."

During the war, Araminta had headed up a shadowy network of Black spies the army called Black Dispatches. They'd taken on scouting assignments, helped with reconnaissance and gathered information on everything from the deployment of Confederate troops to the size and makeup of fortifications. Some dispatches had even infiltrated the household staffs of the Confederacy's generals and politicians. Zahra had been one of them.

"Why Louisiana?"

"Because the experiment Lincoln called Reconstruction almost succeeded there."

"And now?"

"Now it's like cats being thrown into a bag of dogs. Two warring Republican parties. A Republican governor passing Black Code laws like a Democrat. Bribes, scandals. You name it, it's in New Orleans."

"Along with the Union soldiers."

Araminta nodded.

Zahra thought on that for a long moment and on the heated debate being waged across the country over the soldiers' continued presence in Louisiana. "This isn't about the race's plight at all. What Grant's really after is something that will help him decide how soon he can withdraw the soldiers so that he can get Congress and the newspapers off his backside."

"Correct," Araminta replied, then added sarcastically, "but we're just poor, simple colored women. We're only supposed to see what they tell us we see."

"Like telling a blind man he's touching a rabbit when it's really a water moccasin." Zahra shook her head at Grant's lame attempt to pull the wool over her eyes.

Araminta laughed at the analogy. "True. Oh, I've missed having you in my life."

Zahra nodded. "I've thought of you often as well."

They hadn't seen each other since the end of the war. Zahra's family had been spying for the government of the United States since the 1700's, and what she hadn't learned about intelligence gathering from her parents, she had learned from Araminta. Her parents and grandparents taught her to track, to move silently, and to listen to her surroundings, but under Araminta's tutelage, she'd learned ciphers and disguises, how to blend into crowds, and to estimate the size of a Reb brigade. Most importantly though, she'd learned when hardtack, a standard Union food ration during the war, was too wormy to eat.

Araminta said wistfully as if remembering, "Even though the boys were dying all around us, we managed to do some good."

Zahra nodded in agreement, but then added knowingly, "We had some frightening times, though."

Araminta studied her. "I don't remember you being afraid of anything."

"It was '63. Near the Combahee River. We were with Col Montgomery and his Black soldiers."

"Oh, I remember that day. We had a good old time."

Zahra laughed. "I didn't. I'd never been behind enemy lines before, and I was so terrified I thought I would shake to pieces."

Araminta sounded surprised. "You didn't show it."

Zahra thought back. "You led out eight hundred captives that day."

"We led, but that was only because the Rebs were too busy trying to keep Montgomery's boys from burning and stealing everything in sight. Them Rebs didn't have time to fuss with us. The flames in those cotton warehouses were high as the sky."

Zahra remembered the sounds of the pitched battle, the smoke and the smells of burning cotton and wood. The memory faded, and Zahra's mind returned to the present and Grant's offer. "What worries me," she said in a serious tone, "is Grant's people using whatever I find out to pound the last few nails into Reconstruction's coffin. All the Black Codes, the White Leagues, the killings. The soldiers didn't die for this."

"I know, but the race needs to know how strong the winds are, too. So we can prepare."

Continues...


Excerpted from Winds of the Storm by Beverly Jenkins Copyright ©2006 by Beverly Jenkins. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Meet the Author

Beverly Jenkins has received numerous awards, including five Waldenbooks/Borders Group Best Sellers Awards, two Career Achievement Awards from Romantic Times Magazine, and a Golden Pen Award from the Black Writer's Guild. Ms. Jenkins was named one of the Top Fifty Favorite African-American writers of the 20th century by AABLC, the nation's largest on-line African-American book club. She was recently nominated for the NAACP Image Award in Literature.

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Winds of the Storm 4.9 out of 5 based on 1 ratings. 33 reviews.
mholmes7163 More than 1 year ago
Amazing story. I love to dive into these historical romance novels. It allows you to lose yourself and completely go somewhere else. Great read that I would recommend for a getaway! :)
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Autumn1 More than 1 year ago
I've read every book by Ms. Jenkins that I can find.  She is my favorite author.  Her characters are so realistic.  She does her homework to make the stories very authentic.  I have learned things about our history that I didn't learn in school.  And I appreciate the references she provides.  I waited a while for the next story in the Leveq series and have begun to believe that the family has been deserted.  I hope historical fiction has fallen out of favor.  There are some who really enjoy it.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Wonderful read full of history, romance, and adventure.  Loved it!!!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
More of the LeVeq brothers featuring Archer LeVeq; there's also a lady spy, a bordello, and voodoo involved. Need I say more? Beverly Jenkins has done it again. I can't wait to read more by this gifted author.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
The black shecat drops three rabbits and four geese on the freshkill pile. "Found those somewhere...they just walked right up to me." she mumbles. -Fangpaw
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1VAReader More than 1 year ago
This is very enjoyable. It is serious and funny at the same time.
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