L ee walked the sweltering streets of the Bowery. Raw garbage covered every available corner and spilled into and out of the alleyways. Sound, like the garbage, permeated the thick air, and the smell of rotting vegetables and dirt mixed with laughter from the street urchins and dogs barking filled his ears and eyes and nose as he tried in vain to justify his reasons for being here. He hadn’t given himself access to this part of the city until now, and he was amazed at the cacophony of voices raised in every language. The world had landed on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, and he could feel his senses overload from the beauty of the experience and the pain of the poverty. The streets, hard-packed with dirt a few years ago, were now white cement stained a grayish brown from traffic and the outdoor life of the poor. The summer months were unbearable indoors, and as Lee saw it, the less fortunate could move their entire lives outside to the city streets and courtyards and be far mor...

Writing a book is a very private endeavor, and like walking a tree-lined trail not being able to see what lies ahead, or like seeing through a glass darkly, I only know in part, because the story comes to me as I write. However, one thing remains true in the writing of any book, that is, for me. I can hardly wait to share it with someone, everyone. And as usual, I've not  given this latest work of mine a title, this  seventh book in my novels of the War Between the States, the aftermath, Reconstruction, and the amazing years that followed when the whole world began to change as a result of that evil War. For the time being,  we'll call it "Inherited Courage" for that is truly the story of Robert E. Lee Payne. It seems this courageous lad lived on the fringe of life from the time he was born to war hero, Albert Henry Payne, and throughout the incredible years that followed. Here's a bit of the Prologue. I'm now at 30,000 words— and...