Meet the Author
Donald Montano was born and raised in the sleepy little mill town of Thompsonville, on the banks of the Connecticut River. He founded an energy beam welding company in a two-car garage in the foothills of the Berkshires, and in the years that followed, the business prospered. Forty-one years later, Don’s two sons are running the business and have retired their dad to sunny Florida. But he didn’t go quietly. Don took up writing in his spare time. And write he did! This novel marks a milestone in his next life, a published work of historical fiction, with many more to follow.
Want to know more? Be sure to follow Donald Montano on Facebook, Twitter, and G+
The Trilogy: Click to Read the Synopsis
"You're nothing but a smart-ass, mister," Arley said raising her chin defiantly. "That may be, ma'am," Sampson shrugged. "But you make it hard for a man to act like he's got a spine, throwing your weight around like you do. Especially those who come courting," he added. "I would guess it makes you short on suitors." The words hit home. Even the men behind her had to lower their heads so the brim of their hats hid the fleeting smiles on their faces. "You bastard!" She finally got the words out, as she reached for her gun and pointed it at Sampson.
More people dead! While the living enjoyed each others company. Who decided who lived and who died? Sampson threw a few pieces of coal in the stove and stood there naked, liking the radiating heat on his skin. He turned when he heard the connecting door between his room and Arley's room squeak a little. She stood there fully dressed, except for her boots, watching him with no words of consolation to give him. Finally she came close to caress his body and kiss his chest. He started to undress her and she let him, absorbing the feeling of his skin into hers. "This is why I thank God every day I'm alive, Arley," he breathed into her ear. "Because I have you. I have you here, like this, when you should only be a dream I never want to wake up from."
Sampson did not have long to wait before Hisetta shook her head and said solemnly, "If that was all, this predicament would almost be bearable, Mister Sampson. But sometimes, its much worse. Whole families are taken away in the back of a wagon and never seen again. Sometimes its wives or daughters led away and they don't come back for days. And when they do, what you see in their eyes isn't pretty." She seemed to lose her voice as she wiped at her eyes, suddenly overcome with emotion. And then her eyes touched on all of them as she said, "An ill wind is blowing over Charleston, sir. We must exercise patience until it passes." An uncomfortable silence followed. Sampson wanted to speak, but thought better of it. Is that what these people described was happening here? Well, it would take more than a divine event to make it pass!