The thread of friendship is stretched to the breaking point…
With the spark of independence crackling in Colonial Philadelphia, Perdy Rogers chafes under the strict rule of her Quaker grandmother and the endless duties of her apprenticeship in Betsy Ross’s upholstery shop. So when her best friend shares a secret and invites Perdy to help plan an elopement, she’s thrilled to be with her friends again. But Perdy has no idea that one favor will unravel the stable fabric of her life and involve her in a tangled web of deceit, lies and treachery.
Disguised as boys, three girls head to the river to put Perdy’s plan into action, but only two return. When the third, a young milliner’s assistant, is found drowned with gold coins sewn into her hems, coded spy letters in her bodice, and a journal implicating another sewing apprentice as her co-conspirator, all eyes turn to Perdy Rogers. But she’s no spy!
Accused of treason, she struggles to prove her innocence with the help of a handsome stranger and learns the hard way that freedom, whether an individual’s or a country’s, comes at a cost.
As a Master Educationalist Gayle C. Krause taught Children’s Literature, creative writing, storytelling techniques, and acting in upstate New York, where she trained young men and women to become successful Early Childhood and Elementary teachers. She also directed the Pre-K Laboratory School affiliated with her teacher-training program and taught at a local SUNY college as an adjunct professor.
Her years as a creative role model for teens and pre-school children have led to her career as a children’s author. She is a member of SCBWI, KIDLIT, INK, The JAGRS Writing Group, and a past member of the Historical Novel Society and The Poets’ Garage.
Her publishing credits include:
• Rock Star Santa, (2008) Scholastic.
• RATGIRL: Song of the Viper - Noble Young Adult /Trowbridge Books (2013)
• Scheherazade’s Secret – Trowbridge Books 2014
• Twice Betrayed – Trowbridge Books 2017
• And coming November 7, 2017 – Daddy, Can You See the Moon? – Clear Fork Publishing.
She lives in a small town not far from where she was born. She listens to her muse sing through the trees of the Pocono Mountains and is inspired to write for children everyday.
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Twice Betrayed Snippet #1
I sprint up and down the wharf, yelling. “Abby? Abby where are you?”
No answer. Again, I dart back to the makeshift castle. Maybe my eyes played tricks on me.
Maybe I missed her snuggled up between two big rice sacks. She isn’t here. I run my hands blindly along the wooden boards of the dock and up the sides of the crates and sacks, when my hand catches on an opening. A rice sack has been pushed out and lies on the wharf.
My heartbeats burst so fiercely in my head I can’t breathe. I wrap my arms around myself, grasping the sides of Jonathan’s jacket as fear slithers along my flesh like a black water snake. I can’t stop shivering. I squirm out of the hiding place and stare out at the cold, heartless river, not seeing what’s really there, but the horror in my mind.
“She wouldn’t have.” My words are a dry whisper. “I told her to stay hidden.” I freeze where I stand. The uneven waves travel from the middle of the river and lap against the wharf poles that support the dock, where Abby’s castle is built.
Shuddering, I take huge gulps, but no air enters my lungs. My heart threatens to burst from my head, its pounding excruciatingly loud in my ears. My legs give out and I crash to the wooden dock. Guided by the cargo ship’s dim lantern, I crawl to the edge. The river is as deadly as any wild beast. I force myself to look down. I don’t know what I expect to see, but my stomach lurches as I scan the waters below.
Lodged in front of a wooden post, a red satin ribbon ripples on the Delaware’s dark surface.
Twice Betrayed Snippet #2
I slip my hands in and out of my pockets and glance side to side as I climb Lizzie’s steps. My heart skips a beat. I breathe deep and knock, hoping I won’t face Constable Duffield again. Hushed whispers filter through the open window and it takes a while for Lizzie’s mother to answer.
I smile. “Hello, Mrs. Duffield, is Lizzie at home?”
Somber-faced, she addresses me at the door. “No, she is not.”
“When will she be back?”
Callousness clouds Mrs. Duffield’s usually friendly eyes. “She won’t be home until Christmas, and even then, she won’t be home to you.”
I wince. “Pardon me?
“Let me make this clear, Prudence. Elizabeth has been sent to boarding school in Boston. We don’t want her associating with the likes of you and
Priscilla Moore. Lord knows what you’d try to get her to do.”
My mouth drops. “Me? I—”
“Good day, Miss Rogers. Do not return to my door. You’ve no business here, even when Elizabeth returns.” She slams the door in my face.
Dazed, I stare at the brass doorknocker. A cold wave, as brisk as a January breeze, rushes over me and I back up. With my hands half-curled into fists, I stumble off Lizzie’s porch, the very one where I played knucklebones as a child. The porch that just the other night was privy to Priscilla’s secret, and the part we all played in it. Now, I’m not to step on it again.
Not allowed to talk to Lizzie.
They sent her all the way to Boston to make sure I couldn’t.
I bite my lip and perch on the stone wall adjacent to Lizzie’s house. What do they think I’d try to get her to do? My gaze drops to Jonathan’s clothes, still tucked under my arm.
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