Whatever happened in those more than one hundred years, from the time my great-great-great grandfather studied law to the time when my own father took his bar exam in 1989, I may never know. Perhaps it was just greed and the good, old-fashion corruption that comes with power. The Drexlers have moved from the fight for human rights to the fight for corporations and wealthy individuals. We file their taxes, write their contracts, clean up their messes. As I see it, we have become little more than glorified Public Relations reps
Gwenn WrightTags: history law civil-war human-rights legal von-strassenberg bluestocking-girl
A smile is hidden beneath the mustache, it crinkles the corners of his hooded eyes. “I didn’t. I have other business in town and I told my friend I would attend to the matter of his son, as he could not do so himself.”
“Very kind of you.”
“Yes. I have been looking forward to it for quite some time.”
Daddy’s lemonade is almost gone, he sips it carefully, turning his eyes back to the water. “Looking forward to seeing the lad or to conducting your business?” Daddy is toying with him.
“Both. You see, I had never actually met his son.” The glass rests against Daddy’s lips, unmoving. Mr. Geyer watches him closely. “But now I have, so I can get on with my,” he fixes his own gaze on the water, as though trying to see whatever it is that has transfixed my father, “business.
Tags: historical-fiction mystery young-adult detective ya von-strassenberg bluestocking-girl geyer gwenn-wright viktor-von-strassenberg
My heart, for unknown reasons, seems to freeze in motion in my chest. I can see he senses it and he holds his pause to enjoy my suffering, prolonging my ignorance. “Viktor, what?
Gwenn WrightTags: romance dark secrets mystery gothic thriller viktor family-saga von-strassenberg bluestocking-girl gwenn-wright
All I know is that the fear I have been battling all night is breaking down the door of my ignorance. As my feet slam down I feel not the hard, wet asphalt but the soft Persian rug that led to the staircase in my father’s home. In the glow of lightning the dancing trees are illuminated but I see my mother in the glow of candlelight, spinning, twirling, her hair fanned out
behind her. It is falling over me, saturating my thoughts, and I cannot. I cannot let it in.
Tags: dance mystery thriller ya teen midwest saga von-strassenberg bluestocking-girl gwenn-wright st-louis william-drexler
How many times can a heart be shattered and still be pieced back together? How many times before the damage is irreparable?
Gwenn WrightTags: love loss death historical-fiction grief young-adult-fiction von-strassenberg bluestocking-girl
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