By Nicholas Nicastro
Commanding his small, bitterly divided squadron deep into enemy waters, John Paul Jones needs to grasp either the competition and himself as he joins the conflict that would seal his popularity. in the meantime, his former comrade John Severence confronts one other, extra ominous model of struggle at the frontiers of colonial ny. either males are remodeled within the crucible of strive against, braveness, and wartime folly.
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Extra info for Between Two Fires (The John Paul Jones Novels)
She was becoming very conscious of how her hand was perspiring into his, and how unattractive that must seem to him. She didn’t answer but kept light. “There are many opportunities elsewhere. There are places where the Severence name won’t precede me. ” So that was the plan, she thought. He would marry her, and then he would make of her a frontier wife, out in some remote streamside fastness in Pennsylvania. Yes, she supposed it could be done. She imagined herself hoeing squash and shooting and raising sons who would grow up never seeing the steepled skylines of Christian civilization.
There are some details to see to. ” Silence, broken only by an offhand “Well, then . ” from him, and deepened by a weak but clearly miserable smile from her. Severence was emboldened by this, taking her in his arms and placing a kiss on the peak of her forehead. Her skin smelled of a combination of cosmetic wax, rose water, and the tobacco he had been smoking. “I will write to you. ” he asked. She simultaneously burst out with a laugh and with tears. ” This last exchange disconcerted her more than any of his oafish gropings or innuendoes.
Her skin smelled of a combination of cosmetic wax, rose water, and the tobacco he had been smoking. “I will write to you. ” he asked. She simultaneously burst out with a laugh and with tears. ” This last exchange disconcerted her more than any of his oafish gropings or innuendoes. Later, she rehearsed it and re-rehearsed it in her mind, and found herself less and less ready for sleep. Tears? Were there reservoirs of feeling for him within her that she hadn’t considered? Something deeper, beneath the uneven rind of their friendship or the dry flesh of her loneliness or, within that, the tart juice of erotic curiosity?