First Daughter - A Review, Excerpt, & Giveaway

Review

FIRST DAUGHTER
By Marlie Parker Wasserman

It was supposed to be a joyous day. Away from the Washington D.C. crowds President Grover Cleveland and his family are spending time at Gray Gables. His wife, Frances, has just given birth to their third daughter, but cries of joy soon turn to horror. Ruth, the Cleveland's eldest child, has gone missing. Is the three-year-old simply hiding, or has she been taken? Fortunately, Ruth is found, but the woman who took her ran off before she could be caught. While the President wants the matter kept quiet, his wife wants to do everything possible to find the woman before she can try again. Despite a new baby, a husband who's ignoring her concerns, and secret service men who think she's hysterical, Frances Cleveland is determined to find the abductor and keep her family safe!

Can a mother's love overcome a quest for vengeance? FIRST DAUGHTER crafts a story of what if. There are historically documented threats to the Clevelands, but no reported kidnapping. This book borrows the question, what if there was. The book is delineated into sections, referencing two women, Frances Cleveland, the first lady, and Mary Brinksi. While the thrust of the story takes place during the summer and early autumn of 1895, it also goes back in time, giving backstory and thus motive.

While it is a work of fiction, it is imbued with plenty of historical fact. I really enjoyed learning more about Grover Cleveland and his wife Frances. Despite their differences I appreciated their devotion to each other and their daughters. I really loved the bits of history of which I was unaware, like the electricity switch and Cleveland's misdeeds. Being from Buffalo, I also liked the many references to that city-there is a lot of presidential history. Relations between the Clevelands, the secret servicemen, and townsfolk meld into an enjoyable and fascinating read.

A compelling read, FIRST DAUGHTER is ultimately a story of love.

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FIRST DAUGHTER

by Marlie Parker Wasserman

May 4-29, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

In the summer of 1895, President Grover Cleveland and his pregnant wife, Frances, retreat to their secluded Cape Cod home, eager to avoid Washington’s heat and hassles. The very day that Frances gives birth, their three-year-old daughter vanishes. A ransom note surfaces, demanding a mysterious and peculiar sum.

Is the kidnapper a political enemy or someone closer to home? Secret service agents chase multiple leads but reach dead ends. Desperate, Frances Cleveland searches for answers on her own. As the hunt continues, the kidnapper carefully plots each move and determines to settle a score.

The historical record documents threats against the Clevelands, but no actual kidnapping. Yet, what if the president and his wife, known for keeping secrets, concealed a terrifying chapter of their lives? In this gripping blend of fact and fiction, the line between public duty and private anguish blurs in a mother’s fight to save her child.

Praise for First Daughter:

"Arresting, brilliant, emotional! Marlie Wasserman's First Daughter had me hooked from the very first page. Like her other works, fact and fiction are delightfully blurred by the fantastic level of historical detail, creating an exhilarating ride through the kidnapping of President Grover Cleveland's first child and his obscure misdeeds."
~ Jane L. Rubin, author of the award-winning Gilded City series

"In this masterfully woven historical thriller, the past comes alive with rich detail and taut suspense. In the summer of 1895, President Grover Cleveland and his wife retreat to their Cape Cod estate, seeking respite from political turmoil-until their three-year-old daughter vanishes. A ransom note surfaces, but is the culprit a political enemy or someone in their household? Seamlessly blending fact and fiction, this novel delivers a riveting tale of betrayal, resilience, and a mother's relentless quest for truth."
~ Maryka Biaggio, award-winning author of Gun Girl and the Tall Guy and The Model Spy

"A parent's worst nightmare unfolds for President and Frances Cleveland - their daughter is kidnapped. And no one knows why she was taken. The real motive behind the kidnapping may lie closer to home than anyone dares to imagine. First Daughter is a thrilling tale that clutches your heart and won't let go. This haunting historical mystery steeped in vivid period detail explores the cost of secrets and the burden of public life, wrapped in a mother's relentless instinct to protect her family-no matter the consequences."
~ JF Tanner, author of The King's Collar

"Grabbed from the very first page, Wasserman's tale of the abduction of President Grover Cleveland's young daughter Ruth (Baby Ruth) delivers Gilded Age details, tense characters and no bigger problem than a child in danger. With the deftly structured combination of Frances Cleveland's determination to bring justice to her family and a parallel hard luck tale, readers will forget this is non-fiction."
~ Chris Keefer, author of Find Your Way to My Grave a Carrie Lisbon Mystery

"First Daughter is an intriguing and intricately-plotted historical mystery novel. I loved the depth of research and the evocative setting of President Grover Cleveland's summerhouse Gray Gables at Buzzards Bay. I look forward to reading more from Marlie Parker Wasserman."
~ Margo Laurie, author of The Anarchist's Wife 

Book Details:

Genre: Historical Crime Fiction
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: April 14, 2026
Number of Pages: 324
Book Links: Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub

Read an excerpt:

At the western edge of Cape Cod, in the grandest bedroom in the sprawling residence known as Gray Gables, Frances Cleveland couldn’t stifle the rising sound of her own screams. Between pains, she rested. The late morning breeze drifted across the lawn from Buzzards Bay, fluttering the lace curtain and cooling the sweat on her forehead.

Even at this moment, Frances felt grateful that Grover chose to spend summers away from Washington’s heat, away from the prying public. Here, in this secluded haven, she needn’t fear strangers hovering near the windows of the Executive Mansion for a glimpse of their president—or, more likely, of his wife and daughters. She could concentrate her fears on her pains and pray for the safe birth of her third child, in the same way she had for her first and again for her second. Frances expected from experience that her suffering would soon recede, replaced by the joy of motherhood. She did not know that before the day was over, her bodily misery would end, yielding not to joy but to overwhelming terror.

The previous February, after sensing a flutter beneath her gown while greeting a crowd of visitors at a reception, Frances guessed the baby would be her third girl. Practiced at keeping confidences, she never mentioned her prediction to her preoccupied husband. When she gave birth to another girl, the blathering journalists would have their say. They would try out their jokes about the president’s little harem. Most days, Frances ignored the journalists. Most days, she trusted Grover to love each of his babies.

The image of a trio of girls was far from Frances’s mind now, as she suffered in bed. She cried out, too loudly. Dr. Bryant reminded her that she’d survived labor pains before. “Don’t you dare say that again,” she said, in a shrill tone that surprised her.

At last, Frances heard the newborn’s cry, faint but lovely. Dr. Bryant chuckled while he clamped and cut the cord. “Mrs. Cleveland, should I bring the president upstairs to see his new daughter? He’s pacing on the front porch. Once he sees this one—she’s beautiful—he won’t regret it’s not a son.”

“Yes,” Frances said, with the strongest voice she could muster. A girl, as she’d guessed. For an instant, with the last of her contractions, she’d ignored her prediction and hoped for a boy. Now, she didn’t linger on that momentary weakness of character. She let a surge of pride swell over her, above the exhaustion. She’d done it. Again.

Frances turned to the local midwife hired to assist. “Tell the steward, his name is Sinclair, to get Ruth and Esther. I want my daughters to see their new sister.”

Frances raised herself a few inches, enough to see the midwife slip into the hall. The woman returned and gave Frances a nod. The girls would come shortly. Frances sank back and watched the midwife wipe down the infant and swaddle her. She did look beautiful. “Here,” Frances said, crooking her arm to make room for Marion, the name Grover chose that would serve for a girl or a boy. The same name as a town across Buzzards Bay, where many of their friends lived. Frances appreciated Grover’s decision to buy an estate on the outskirts of a different but nearby town, Bourne. The family could escape Washington’s heat and busybodies.

And escape the threats.

Hours earlier, Frances gave thanks for the breeze blowing through the open window, reminding her that Gray Gables was perfectly located on a point overlooking the Bay’s east side. But now she blocked the sound of wind and waves. straining to make sense of other sounds, to hear what Grover would say about a third daughter. The doctor scurried downstairs. The midwife remained stationed over the bed, tending to Frances and crooning softly to the baby. Frances ignored the woman, mindful only of the voices wafting in through the window. First, low tones as the doctor talked to Grover. They were friends. Dr. Bryant saved Grover’s life two summers ago, removing the cancer eating away at his palate. Now, Frances imagined the doctor patting her thickset husband on his shoulder and shaking his hand. She hoped Grover would offer the doctor a contented smile. Seconds later, Grover clomped upstairs. The doctor followed behind, with lighter steps.

“So happy, Frankie.” Her husband used one of her nicknames. After their wedding, she asked Grover to call her by her more dignified name, Frances. He still used Frankie or Frank in private moments. She let him—the nicknames added tenderness to his gruff voice. “The doctor tells me you’re fine. You managed without chloroform this time, too. And the baby’s healthy. Marion, right? Three girls. They will enjoy each other’s company.”

He said the right thing. She didn’t need to feel anxious about another girl. He was a good man, kind to her, whatever others thought. He wouldn’t hold the baby, rarely did. But he wiped his chubby hand on a cloth, then touched Marion’s forehead. He stood there for a few minutes, cherishing their third child. For him, it was a fourth, but no matter. His eyes shifted to gaze at her. He wouldn’t see the tall, slender belle he married nine years ago, the one the reporters called lovely. He’d see a tired, sweat-drenched woman who looked every day of her thirty years.

“Ruth and Esther?” Frances asked again, eyeing the midwife. “Did you send Sinclair for them?”

“Yes, ma’am. The steward went a minute ago.” The midwife spoke quietly, carefully. She’d feel nervous in the presence of the president.

Still almost flat in bed, Frances clutched Marion, admiring the infant. Perfect features. Ten fingers and ten toes. Another blessing from God.

A familiar sound at the door. Sinclair knocked softly. His usual pattern—soft, loud, soft—keeping to the household code. Another sound, when the midwife opened the door. Next, Frances would hear four little feet rushing toward the newest baby.

No feet. Only hushed words.

“Sinclair found Annie,” the midwife said. “She’s your older daughter’s nursemaid, right? He tells me she needs another minute to bring Ruth and to tell your younger daughter’s nursemaid to bring Esther.” The midwife stood far from Frances’s bed, speaking almost in a whisper.

Grover didn’t look concerned. His rough mustache skimmed Frances’s cheek as he kissed her lightly on her damp forehead. She was too tired to return the kiss. She heard him drop into the nearby rocking chair.

“Joseph,” he said, addressing the doctor, “you’re certain Frankie is fine? No complications?”

“Just fine, Grover. Ready for the next one before long.”

Four years earlier, when Ruth was born, Dr. Joseph Bryant told Frances how to manage her family. “Breastfeed for six months.” He looked straight at her, with no awkwardness. “You’ll not get in the family way, and the baby will stay healthy. After six months, well, you and Grover can proceed to another.” And so they had. Esther after Ruth. Marion after Esther. A daughter every two years.

Frances closed her eyes, relying on her ears. Dr. Bryant thanked the midwife for her assistance. The woman tidied up, gathering soiled sheets and opening a chest, hunting for fresh linens. The room went silent, except for the soft, repetitious squeak of the rocking chair. Grover leaned up, then back, up then back. Frances sensed herself drifting off.

Another soft knock, barely a sound, followed by a pause, and two more soft knocks. Not Sinclair. One of the nursemaids. Annie? The midwife opened the door. “Ma’am.” Annie’s voice came out as a croak. “I can’t find Ruth.”

***

Excerpt from FIRST DAUGHTER by Marlie Parker Wasserman. Copyright 2026 by Marlie Parker Wasserman. Reproduced with permission from Marlie Parker Wasserman. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Marlie Parker Wasserman loves writing historical crime fiction. She has published three novels--First Daughter will be her fourth. After a career in publishing in New Jersey, she moved to Chapel Hill, NC with her husband. When she is not writing, she travels, reads, and sketches. One of her goals is to visit every national park in the U.S., and she is close to her goal.

Catch Up With Marlie Parker Wasserman:

www.marliewasserman.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub - @marliewasserman
Instagram - @marliepwasserman
Bluesky - @marliewasserman.bsky.social
Facebook

 

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I'm currently reading First Daughter by Marlie Parker Wasserman. This standalone work of historical fiction was released last month.

It was supposed to be a joyous day. Away from the Washington D.C. crowds President Grover Cleveland and his family are spending time at Gray Gables. His wife, Frances, has just given birth to their third daughter, but cries of joy soon turn to horror. Ruth, the Cleveland's eldest child, has gone missing. Is the three-year-old simply hiding, or has she been taken? Fortunately, Ruth is found, but the woman who took her ran off before she could be caught. While the President wants the matter kept quiet, his wife wants to do everything possible to find the woman before she can try again. Despite a new baby, a husband who's ignoring her concerns, and secret service men who think she's hysterical, Frances Cleveland is determined to find the abductor and keep her family safe!

Death and the Visitors - A Review

Review

DEATH AND THE VISITORS by Heather Redmond
The Second Mary Shelley Mystery 

 

The Skinner Street household is abuzz. A Polish princess along with her Russian husband and entourage have arrived in London for the Congress of Vienna meetings and have paid a visit to the Godwins. Not only do they show a distinct fascination for Mary Wollstonecraft and her daughters, Mary and Fanny, they have promised Mr. Godwin diamonds in support of his publishing house. But when the Russian who made the promise is found dead and creditors come calling it's up to Mary, her stepsister Jane, and Percy Shelley to discover what's truly behind the Russians visit before they all wind up in jail or the poorhouse!

 

The disparity of treatment between Mary and her stepsiblings comes to the fore in the second Mary Shelley Mystery. While Mary is held in esteem by the Russians, she is degraded even more by Mrs. Godwin who treats her as a servant. Yet despite the awfulness that is Mrs. Godwin Mr. Godwin remains devoted to her. Yet Mrs. Godwin isn't the sole source of cruelty. A certain miasma envelops Skinner Street bringing a sense of foreboding. It's no wonder Mary will do almost anything to escape, which she eventually does.

I loved the various puzzles presented in DEATH AND THE VISITORS. A dead Russian, missing diamonds, threats of kidnapping, and more make for an exciting time in Regency London. It's the interplay of characters that is truly captivating. Mary's maturity and Jane's histrionics, the attraction between Shelley and Mary along with the possibility of her being wed to another, Jane's desire to find a friend and her continued lying, the desperate need for money all combine to create an unstable world. I loved how Shelley was always there to help even knowing how complicated his relationship was with Mary...and Jane...and his wife. Events throughout the mystery were shocking and the conclusion surprising.

With a mystery as complex as its characters DEATH AND THE VISITORS gives a vivid look at a family on the edge.

Ashes on the Wind - An Interview, Excerpt, & Giveaway

I'm pleased to welcome Brandy Purdy to Cozy Up With Kathy today. Brandy is the author of Ashes on the Wind: The Love Story Behind the Crime of the Century which was published earlier this year.

Kathy: Ashes on the Wind: The Love Story Behind the Crime of the Century is the story of Nathan “Babe” Leopold and Richard “Dickie” Loeb. How did you first learn about these men?

BP: I first read about them in a true crime anthology that I read as a little girl, A Pictorial History of American Crime by Allen Churchill. There were several stories in that book that still fascinate me, but this was one that really stayed with me.

Kathy: Do you think if they had not been as privileged they would have committed the same crime?

BP: That's very hard to say. Although they would not have had governesses and chauffeurs if they had been poor, they might have still suffered parental neglect, but for different reasons. But whether they would have still found each other or not... They grew up living two blocks from each other and came from the same social background but didn't come together until they were both 15 and attending the University of Chicago.

Kathy: Is it your opinion that they were in love or were they just looking for self gratification?

BP: While they both gained something they desired from the relationship, for Nathan Leopold at least it was definitely love. It has been reported that he remained in love with Richard Loeb for the rest of his life, even long after Loeb was gone. As for my novel, Ashes on the Wind, the subtitle "the love story behind the Crime of the Century" shouldn't necessarily be taken at face value, ultimately it's for the reader to decide after finishing the book what that's in reference to.

Kathy: Was justice served?

BP: I think Judge Caverly's verdict was correct and very wise. Death would have been too quick and easy for them, by sentencing them to life plus 99 years they were forced to grow up in prison and had plenty of time to reflect on what they had done, though if they actually did depends on whether you believe Nathan Leopold's autobiography.

Kathy: Are you a true crime enthusiast? Is there a case to which you are most drawn?

BP: I've always enjoyed reading about real crimes, but there are some that my mind just latches on to for some reason and I try to keep up with any new theories or developments, there are some that have been following since I was a small child. I have a particular fascination with mysterious disappearances.

Kathy: What first drew you to historical fiction?

BP: When I was in third grade I was given a book of supposedly true ghost stories, and there was a chapter about Anne Boleyn haunting the Tower of London, and I was so fascinated by the stories in that book that I began seriously reading history.

Kathy: Do you write in any other genres?

BP: No, all of my books are historical fiction.

My first novel was The Confession of Piers Gaveston, about the notorious "favorite" of the medieval king Edward II.

My second novel began life as Vengeance is Mine but when Kensington bought the rights they changed the title to The Boleyn Wife. It's about Lady Jane Rochford, Anne Boleyn's insanely jealous sister-in-law who falsely accused her husband George of committing incest with his sister Anne when she lost her husband Henry VIII's favor. After that I was contracted to write four more novels set in Tudor England, The Tudor Throne about the daughters of Henry VIII, Mary and Elizabeth; The Queen's Pleasure, about the mysterious death of Amy Robsart, wife of Elizabeth I's favorite courtier, Lord Robert Dudley; The Queen's Rivals about the Grey Sisters; and lastly The Boleyn Bride about Elizabeth Boleyn.

After that I wrote two historical novels inspired by famous crimes. The Ripper's Wife is based on the controversial Ripper Diary that surfaced in the 1990s and claims that a Liverpool cotton merchant named James Maybrick was Jack the Ripper, it's told in diary entries alternating with the narration of his wife Florence, telling the story of their marriage. Florence Maybrick was later accused of murdering her husband. Then I wrote The Secrets of Lizzie Borden, about the spinster Sunday school teacher accused of murdering her father and stepmother with a hatchet in Fall River, Massachusetts in 1892.

My final novel for Kensington was Two Empresses which tells the stories of Napoleon's Empress Josephine and her cousin Aimee de Rivery, who was abducted by Pirates and sold into the harem of the Sultan of Turkey.

My latest novel, Ashes on the Wind, tells the story of the 1924 Crime of the Century, but unlike most books about Leopold and Loeb it focuses on their personal relationship rather than the events that made them infamous.

You can see all of my books on my blog http://bybrandypurdy.blogspot.com

Kathy: Do you have a favorite character? If so, who and why?

BP: Richard "Dickie" Loeb, so little is actually known about him it was a challenge to create the character in a way that was uniquely in depth, focusing more on his emotions and confusion and frustration about his asexuality and the friction this caused with the highly sexual Nathan Leopold, rather than just his criminal ambitions. Because of his childish nature, which contrasted sharply with his intelligence, and his habit of suddenly changing subjects without warning it was sometimes like writing a character from one of those old screwball comedies from the 1930s. Dickie also surprised me more than any other character I've ever written, there were several times when he seem to dig in his heels and go the opposite way of what I'd planned for him.


Kathy: What are you currently reading?

BP: Lost Cleopatra by Phillip Dye, it's about the most elusive and eagerly sought lost silent film, the 1917 version of Cleopatra starring Theda Bara.

Kathy: Will you share any of your hobbies or interests with us?

BP: Reading, watching movies, listening to music, spending time with my cat, coloring, jigsaw puzzles, and word search puzzles.

Kathy: Name 4 items you always have in your fridge or pantry.

BP: Crystal Light Lemonade, Stouffer's Mac and Cheese, caramel Twix candy bars, and sweet iced tea.

Kathy: Do you have plans for future books?

BP: Nothing at the moment. I've been going through some personal difficulties, so I'm taking some time for myself.

************************************************************************* 

 

Excerpt:

We were standing beside a big white Panhard-Levassor limousine. Dickie suddenly reached past me and opened the door and stepped up onto the running board.

“Drive me home, Babe?” he asked sweetly. “I don’t really feel like driving.”

“All right,” I agreed, sliding into the driver’s seat. I experienced a frisson of pleasure when my thigh briefly brushed against Dickie’s before he moved over to make room for me. “But, you know,” I added as the engine purred to life, “you really shouldn’t leave the key in the ignition, it’s terribly irresponsible…”

“And temptation is terribly hard to resist!” Dickie licked his lips and draped his arm across the back of the seat behind me. “Don’t you agree, Babe?”

I was thankful for the darkness that hid my blush…and my erection.

“Yes,” I gulped and slowly began inching that gigantic car out of the parking lot. “Gosh, this thing is enormous! It’s like trying to steer the Titanic around the iceberg! I hope I don’t hit anything!”

“I’m not worried about it at all!” Dickie assured me.

My heart swelled with pride. Knowing he had such confidence in me made me even more determined to successfully maneuver that great white whale of an automobile through the Chicago streets and bring it safely home without a dent or a scratch.

When we reached the Loebs’ Elizabethan style red brick mansion on Ellis Avenue I breathed a sigh of relief. I parked on the street outside the gate and sat staring at the most pretentious house in Kenwood. Sprawling across three entire lots, it boasted a private tennis court, greenhouse, gardens, and a goldfish pond. It even dwarfed the mansion of Mr. Loeb’s boss, Julius Rosenwald, the founder of Sears, Roebuck & Company.

“Friends?” Dickie offered me his hand.

“Friends!” I gladly shook it.

His mouth wasn’t that far from mine, but I lacked the courage to lean in and kiss him. There were moments when I was so sure he was flirting with me, but I always hung back and hesitated, afraid I was mistaken.

Dickie just sat there watching me, like he was waiting for me to say or do something. Finally, he took a pack of Dentyne gum from his pocket.

“Gum?” he offered.

“N-No thank you.”

And still he lingered, smacking his cinnamon gum with gusto and staring at me.

“Can I…Can I ask you something? S-Sometimes it seems like…Are you flirting with me?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t thought about it! Why? Would it bother you if I were?”

I decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. “I don’t know, I haven’t thought about it!”

“Well, that’s maddeningly vague!” Dickie popped his gum.

“Yes, yes, it is,” I agreed.

Dickie laughed and opened the car door and climbed out.

I leaned out the window. “Should I leave your car here or…”

“It’s not my car; I don’t know whose it is! Good night, Babe, sweet dreams!” With a smile and a cheery wave Dickie disappeared behind the gate and bounded up the front steps, leaving me too stunned to speak.

 ************************************************************************************************************

 Ashes on the Wind: The Love Story Behind The Crime of the Century by Brandy Purdy

About Ashes on the Wind

Ashes on the Wind: The Love Story Behind The Crime of the Century
Genre: Historical Fiction, True-Crime Inspired
Setting - Chicago, Illinois 1920
Publisher: ‎ Independently published (April 15, 2024)
Paperback: ‎ 573 pages

Nathan "Babe" Leopold was a socially awkward genius who used arrogance as a shield. He cultivated a philosophy of absolute selfishness cherry-picked from his reading of Nietzsche and indulged himself with vivid sexual fantasies about kings and slaves.

Richard "Dickie" Loeb was the brightest of the bright young things, a social butterfly as fragile as glass inside, hiding his insecurities behind a dazzling smile and a mouthful of lies. He found escape in thrilling tales and fantasies of crime.

They were two brilliant and privileged boys, each harboring secrets it would have been social suicide to reveal in their 1920s world.

When Babe met Dickie, it was like his favorite fantasy had stepped out of his dreams into real life.

When Dickie met Babe, he thought he had found the accomplice who would help make his criminal dreams come true.

Dickie was willing to give Babe what he wanted, if Babe would give him what he wanted. Quid pro quo. Until Dickie wanted something more, leaving Babe desperate and willing to do anything to hold onto his dream. Even if it led down a dark path to the Crime of the Century and infamy as the thrill killers Leopold and Loeb.

About Brandy Purdy

Brandy Purdy is the author of several historical novels including The Ripper's Wife, The Secrets of Lizzie Borden, The Boleyn Wife, and The Tudor Throne.

Blog: http://bybrandypurdy.blogspot.com/   

Purchase Link - Amazon 

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Rise to Rebellion - A Review, Excerpt, & Giveaway

 Review

RISE TO REBELLION by Julie Bates
The Third Faith Clarke Mystery

When Faith Clarke receives word that her mother is dying, she reluctantly leaves her tavern in Virginia and heads to Philadelphia to try to make peace with the woman. She’s accompanied by the taciturn Jeremy Butler who has his own mission in Philadelphia, assisting delegates from the colonies. Both encounter multiple challenges. Faith is stunned to learn she has a half sister whom her mother begs her to find. Butler discovers a plot to harm Benjamin Franklin himself! In a world where no one can be trusted and danger lurks in every corner will the pair be successful?

In RISE TO REBELLION two disparate stories are seamlessly intertwined to create an atmospheric period piece. Themes of coming home, family, and acceptance can be found along with the mystery of just who is out to harm members of the Continental Congress. The characters are multifaceted and I enjoyed getting to know Faith’s sister, Hannah. I appreciated seeing our forefathers as real people. It was especially great fun reading about Benjamin Franklin. I’m still giggling about his air bath.

The third Faith Clarke Mystery gives us humor, a bit of romantic tension, and more than one adrenaline rushing scene. Talk about a family reunion! Vivid descriptions and historical detail bring veritas to the story. I felt the stifling heat, heard the clicks from wooden shoes, and saw a prosperous and vibrant city.

Filled with intrigue, drama, and more than one surprise RISE TO REBELLION is a captivating Colonial era mystery. 

**********************************************************************

Rise to Rebellion

by Julie Bates

April 8 - May 3, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

Summer 1776. Different missions call Faith Clarke and Jeremy Butler to Philadelphia, where delegates meet to determine the path of the rebellious American Colonies. Faith has been called back to her childhood home to make peace with her terminally ill mother, while Jeremy has been summoned by General Washington to report to Philadelphia to deal with a crisis impacting the Continental Crisis. Yet nothing is as it seems.

Her mother’s wandering mind reveals a secret that no one wants to discuss, but Faith realizes must come to light. A child, born out of wedlock, haunts her mother’s memories and destroys her peace. No matter to cost, Faith knows this child must be found for her mother to pass in peace, even as her own family tries to stop her. Only her older sister, Hannah is willing to help her find the truth that will allow her mother to die in peace.

Meanwhile, Jeremy Butler hunts for an assassin determined to kill a member of the Congress meeting to draft a proclamation from the American Colonies. All attempts lead back to Benjamin Franklin, who is at the heart of the negotiations to send a united message to the King of England. But who would want to kill Franklin, a man respected by all? Alone in a strange town, Jeremy enlists the help of Faith’s sister Hannah, a formidable widow with a mind of her own. Together, they work to keep Franklin safe while hunting a ruthless killer wandering the streets of Philadelphia.

While Jeremy seeks answers from Franklin’s estranged son, William. Faith and Hannah hunt for their long-lost sister, who they believe may still be living in Philadelphia. Neither of them realizes that in a city rife with rebellion, anyone could be tempted to rise up and revolt against those held responsible for the deepest of betrayals.

Book Details:

Genre: Historical Fiction
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: September 26, 2023
Number of Pages: 318
ISBN: 9781685124670 (ISBN10: 1685124674)
Series: Faith Clarke, #3
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Level Best Books

Read an excerpt:

Butler circled the room. Franklin found a comfortable seat where he was soon encircled by a mixed crowd as he exerted his charm. Surrounded by paramount families of Philadelphia, Butler felt certain the old man was safe. A light touch on his arm caught him by surprise.

Lizette Fournier smiled up at him with a guileless expression. “Forgive me, Master Butler, but I appear to be without a partner for this dance. Would you do me the honor?”

He allowed her to take his arm. Butler hoped he didn’t forget the steps. When he had served with Washington as a youth in the French and Indian War, the colonel had seen fit to teach him dancing. The colonel, now general, was both an excellent dancer and teacher. Butler felt a debt of gratitude to him as he led Mistress Fournier into a well-known country dance.

Lizette Fournier was light on her feet. Her delicate blue gown, with its frothy lace, reminded him of seafoam as it moved back and forth. Her eyes watched him as he turned and swayed along with her.

“You are a fine dancer, Master Butler,” she called as they drew closer. “I wonder that I have not seen you at some of our other gatherings.”

Butler waited until they were close again. “Regrettably, I have had little time for entertainment since I entered this fair city.”

“Really, I wonder what sort of business would keep an attractive man away from the very gatherings that allow men to make connections valuable in conducting a successful business.”

Butler nodded as they turned. “I have seen many of Philadelphia’s finest families represented here tonight, but not all business is conducted at a ball. The ladies expect better of us than to take time away from the festivities.”

“It would be a shame,” she agreed. “That’s why so many of our fine men slip away to the card tables so that they can drink and gossip with impunity.”

Butler laughed. “Is that how it is done? I will keep that in mind.” He bowed before her as the dance ended. “Perhaps I had best excuse myself and move to that room.” He moved swiftly before she could compel him to another dance. Fortunately, he had spotted the adjacent room set up for cards as they had moved across the dance floor.

Candelabras surrounded the group of square tables set up in an elegant room papered in blue and white toile print. Dark blue draperies partially drawn across the windows gave the room an intimate look. The windows were open to allow breezes inside and allow smoke from cigars and pipes to drift out into the night.

As he passed by the settee where Franklin was ensconced, he heard a giggle. He had been joined by a pretty young girl in a pale pink dress covered in bows. Butler watched as Franklin leaned over to kiss her cheek and chuckle heartily. Butler briefly wondered if he had been entrusted with the defense of an old lecher, but he saw nothing of concern from either Franklin or the girl as they sat talking. He moved to stand behind a chair close by.

Franklin basked in the attention of the young lady, her mama, and a few others as he shared a story about one of his experiments regarding electricity. “We soon discovered that lightning would strike the highest point in the vicinity in order to reach the ground, and,” he leaned over to whisper conspiratorially, “whatever it struck would explode as if shot from a cannon.” He leaned back and saw Butler. “Master Butler, could you find me some refreshment? Regrettably, my throat has gotten quite dry with the sharing of my scientific work.”

Butler shot Franklin a look. “It would be my pleasure.”

“Thank you, my good man.” He turned to the girl. “Now, my sweet Felicity, where were we?”

“You were about to tell us about attaching a key to your kite,” she replied. Chestnut brown curls were piled artfully on top her head while two or three large sausage-shaped ones drifted over her bare shoulder.

They had moved on to another of Franklin’s experiments by the time he returned. Butler handed him a frothy goblet and passed the other to the girl. Franklin drank deeply, draining the glass before setting it on a nearby table.

Butler smiled over at Franklin. “I believe I read that your son assisted you in many of your experiments.”

“William helped a great deal. He served as my assistant and recorder. He could be very useful when he chose.”

Felicity asked. “Where is your son now, Dr. Franklin?”

Franklin remained silent for several moments, his expression unreadable. “William is far away from me now.”

Butler left to get a drink for himself, pondering how two men once so close could grow so far apart. Avoiding the syllabub, which he found disgusting, Butler acquired a glass of wine and settled along a wall. Before long, he was joined by Frances Fournier, also with a glass of wine.

“It is a fine party, is it not mon ami?” Fournier’s glass was almost buried by the enormous cascade of ruffles flowing out from the cuffs of his jacket. The pale ivory of his waistcoat stood out in contrast to the blue of his suit. All were covered with embroidered roses that must have taken hours to produce. Fournier gazed with pride at the crowd filling his home. “My wife does an excellent job with these things.”

Butler nodded. “She seems very talented. You must be pleased to have such a beautiful and skilled lady at your side.”

Fournier nodded sagely. “She is a remarkable woman, my Lisette, and tolerant of my eccentricities.” He smiled expansively. “She will not notice if I slip away for a few hours with a like-minded friend.”

Butler wondered what Fournier was alluding to. There was very little a wealthy man could not discreetly do. “It is good she is an understanding woman,” he said at last.

“I have not seen you with the ladies, with the exception of my charming wife; perhaps you too prefer the company of men?”

The question was posed delicately.

Butler smiled to show he meant no judgment against his host. “I’m flattered you would ask, but that is not my interest. I lost my wife years ago and have no interest in forming an attachment with anyone.” He stepped back from the wall. “I think it best if I check on my companions before they take in too much of your well-stocked cellars. I wish you a pleasant evening.” He walked slowly into the crush, aware of the older man’s eyes on his back. Butler had no intention of commenting on his interests, although he suspected it was known in society. His mission was to protect Franklin, not judge other men’s choices.

Butler walked outside to clear his head. Strains of music drifted out into the shadowed garden, lit by a few scattered torches. A tall tree’s canopy provided a large dark space where one could shelter and not be disturbed. Butler stood beneath it, taking in the night air.

In the garden, whispers drifted across the ground. Young swains sputtered their affections to young ladies. A few men discussed an upcoming horse race on the edges of town the next day. One apparently was short of funds. Butler paid attention to that. A man desperate for money might be willing to share information for some coins.

A pair of women walked past. Their furtive glances caught his interest. Butler decided to follow. Gravel crunched under their feet as they walked swiftly away from the revealing light of torches that had been placed just outside the house. Butler kept to the shadows surrounding the fruit trees on the edge of the formal beds.

Within the raised beds, pale blossoms of flowers glowed in the shadowed garden. The waxing moon provided ample light to see the path. Butler listened to the hoot of an owl in the distance, warning smaller creatures that it was on the hunt. He watched as the women made for the pergola at the end of the main path. Painted white, it stood out in the darkness.

One of the women stopped as her skirt became caught in the boxwood edging one of the flower beds. As she bent to free it, Lisette Fournier whispered. “Hurry, it won’t be long before we are missed.”

Mistress Cranford rose. “I’m not tearing my skirt. The dressmaker delivered this yesterday.”

Butler lingered outside, concealed by trees and shrubs.

Fournier spoke first. “Has your husband revealed anything about where he stands in this conflict?”

Cranford’s voice sounded exasperated. “We are Quaker. He says we are neutral, but he meets with men like Franklin and George Clymer. He is angry at the threats the British have made. They imply that if he doesn’t support the King, he is a patriot even if he does nothing.”

Fournier nodded. “The British are of like mind. They have no use for pacifists.” She raised her head, looking at the sky. Her face was a pale oval, unreadable in the shadowed structure. “The British will come,” She said. “We need to prepare. Our husbands may choose to blindly ignore the danger, but we cannot. Our children depend on us to provide a future for them.”

“Elizabeth,” Lisette grasped her hand. “I realize this is difficult, but you can do this. Listen when he brings his associates home to dinner. Let me know what you hear; that is all you need to do.”

The other woman shook her head. “James won’t like it if I pry in his business. His family was disappointed he did not marry into a more affluent family. It has been better since Simeon was born. His father dotes on him and his sisters.”

“It is for your children you should do this. When the British come, they will take this town and punish anyone they believe sympathetic to the revolution.” Her voice deepened. “Men pay no attention to us, but we are necessary to their comfort and wellbeing. Therein lays your power. Be the perfect hostess and entertain your husband’s associates with loving kindness. They will speak and never realize you are present.”

Elizabeth Cranford drew in a breath. “This is a patriot stronghold. Do you really believe the British will come?”

“British Troops are gathering in New York, waiting for the right moment. It’s a matter of time before they march south.”

“But Washington,” Elizabeth began.

Lisette shook her head. “He works with militias: men of very little training and short commitment. My friends tell me they are not prepared to meet a professional army.”

Butler wondered who the lovely Lisette shared her information with.

“It’s time for us to return to the ball.” Lisette murmured. “I will call on you tomorrow, and you can let me know if James has expressed any opinions to his clients. I have heard that Master Hancock has met with him.”

Elizabeth nodded. “They have discussed business contracts. Master Hancock wants to expand where his ships go and find a way to avoid the British navy.”

Lisette snorted. “We’re all trying to avoid them, as well as the privateers that seek fat ships to loot.” She looked about before stepping out onto the pearly pale gravel that lined the garden’s walkways. Both women walked swiftly back toward the house, where the strains of a minuet drifted from the open windows. Butler watched them go, pondering what he had heard. Lisette Fournier was far more than a pretty woman. In the right hands, she could influence the course of the conflict here in Philadelphia. The question was, whose side was she really on? It might be possible to sway her to share intelligence in order to garner favor with the prevailing side. Butler recognized she could be a source of tremendous intelligence, but if he wasn’t careful, she could also be his doom.

***

Excerpt from Rise to Rebellion by Julie Bates. Copyright 2024 by Julie Bates. Reproduced with permission from Julie Bates. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Julie Bates enjoys reading and writing in a variety of genres. After spending a few years writing freelance articles, her first novel Cry of the Innocent, premiered in June 2021, followed by A Seed of Betrayal in 2022. The Eight book series follows the timeline of the American Revolutionary War. In addition, she has blogged for Killer Nashville and the educational website Read.Learn.Write. She is a member of Sisters in Crime, Triangle Sisters in Crime, Mystery Writers of America, Southeastern Mystery Writers of America (SEMWA) and The Historical Novel Society. When not busy plotting her next story, she enjoys working in her garden, doing crafts and spending time with her husband and son, as well as a number of dogs and cats who have shown up on her doorstep and never left...

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Currently Reading...

I'm currently reading Rise to Rebellion by Julie Bates. This is the third book in the Faith Clarke Mystery series.

When Faith Clarke receives word that her mother is dying, she reluctantly leaves her tavern in Virginia and heads to Philadelphia to try to make peace with the woman. She’s accompanied by the taciturn Jeremy Butler who has his own mission in Philadelphia, discover who’s plotting to prevent the Patriots from meeting while keeping them safe. Both encounter multiple challenges. Faith is stunned to learn she has a half sister whom her mother begs her to find. Butler discovers a plot to harm Benjamin Franklin himself! In a world where no one can be trusted and danger lurks in every corner will the pair be successful?

Inferno on Fifth - A Review

 Review

INFERNO ON FIFTH
By Marlie Parker Wasserman 

 

In 1899 the Windsor Hotel in Manhattan was a grand edifice seven stories high taking up an entire city block housing visitors and wealthy New Yorkers alike. Everyone was in a celebratory mood that St. Patrick's Day and Irish music filled the air as the parade began. But as the parade got close to the hotel, smoke filled the air. Bystanders looked up in shock to see women hanging out of the hotel windows, some jumping as flames shot out of the building. Screams rent the air. In less than two hours there was nothing but rubble and almost 100 people were dead. INFERNO ON FIFTH follows events leading up to and following the blaze. What could have caused such devastation?

 

I love history as well as mysteries and INFERNO ON FIFTH combines both in an intriguing story inspired by true events. Each chapter is written from the viewpoint of one of the people whose life was affected by the fire, from hotel guests and staff to investigators, with thoughts and opinions from neighbors and others. Despite all these views, there is a cohesive story, the various threads weaving into a solid whole. It's fascinating to see the disparity between the focus of the stories, from the three wealthy young women who held their fathers in high esteem to the entire robbery storyline. I appreciated the way Marguerite Wells dealt with the aftermath of the fire, determined to try to discover what really happened that fateful day and was impressed with her investigation.

A great work of historical fiction makes me want to research the truth behind the story. INFERNO ON FIFTH did just that, leading me down the rabbit hole as I discovered pictures and even a letter written by Mrs. Pope to her sister detailing the fire.

INFERNO ON FIFTH is a captivating tale that will transport you to the Gilded Age while it forces you to question your own ethics and mortality.

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About the Author

 

Marlie Parker Wasserman writes historical crime fiction, after a career on the other side of the desk in publishing. In addition to Inferno on Fifth, she is the author of The Murderess Must Die and Path of Peril. Marlie lives with her husband in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. She is a member of the Historical Novel Society, Sisters in Crime, and the Triangle Chapter of Sisters in Crime.

Website:marliewasserman.com