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Prologue

Blood

She could see it, smell it

Hear it

Drip…drip…drip…

The air was heavy with black powder, and the brilliant red color of the blood seemed to form a mist with the powder, and she was surrounded by a haze, ared, red like the color of the blood seeping to the ground,that terrible, distinctive noise Drip, drip, drip…

Ashley Donegal was there She wasn’t even sure where there was, but she knew that she didn’t want to be there

Suddenly, the ust, and then settle softly, closer to the ground It parted as she walked through She could see her surroundings, and, at that moment, she knew She was in the cemetery She had played here so often as a child--respectfully, of course Her grandfather never would have had it any other way Those elegant tombs, all constructed with such love, and an eye to the priorities of the day The finest craftsmen had been hired, artists and artisans, and the place was truly beautiful Angels and archangels graced the various toed cherubs, saints and crosses She had never been afraid

But now…

From a distance, she could hear shouts Soldiers Ridiculous Grown ht almost have been back in time The powder came from the howitzer and the Enfield rifles The shouts sounded as thefros and then the stables, to the final confrontation on the lawn and in the cee packets within their uniforms, of course, but…

This was real blood She knew because it had a distinctive odor, and because, yes, da sround, and she could see the puddle where the blood was falling, but she was afraid to look up If she looked up, she would see a dead man

But she did so anyway She saw him There was a hat pulled low over his face, but soon he would lift his head

He did And she saw a th of purpose in the sculpture of his face But there eariness in his eyes

Weariness and death Yet they were just playacting; that past was so, so long ago now…

She didn’t speak Neither did he Because his face began to rot It blackened, and while she watched, the scabrous decaying flesh began to peel away Soon she was staring into the empty eye sockets of a skull

She started to screa to her So her name The sound was deep, rich and masculine, and she knew it…

It was Jake! He would help… Surely he would help

But she could only stare at the skeletal mask in front of her

Se sound in the ht awoke Ashley She sat up with a start and realized she was doing the screa She clamped her own hand quickly over herthat she hadn’t roused the household She waited in silence; nope, no one

That was pretty pathetic It must have been a horrifically pathetic scream If she ever really needed to scream, she’d probably be out of luck

Lord, that had been sorounded hurown up next to a bayou full of alligators and cottonmouths, and she had lived in a downtrodden area of New York City near Chinatown in order to afford NYU She knew all about real hosts were creations to reel tourists in

So…

With a groan, she threw her head back on her pillow and glanced at the clock She needed to sleep In a week’s tiest annual event: the reenactment of the skirmish here that had cost her ancestor his life

Ah, yes, and she had been drea about the skir She was dreaal Plantation because they were preparing for the day

History was always alive at Donegal The plantation house was furnished with antiques, most of which had been in the family forever There was an attic room that contained more artifacts from the Civil War than many a museum, down to letters, mess kits, knapsacks, pistols, rifles and bayonets Still, the reenact it since before she had even been born It was rote by now All the sa with everything that had to happen before the event could take place, including a mound of paperwork on her desk that had to do with the "sutler’s tent," the pop-up shop where period clothing and curios and other paraphernalia, such as weapons and antiques, were sold Which istrations and taxes Then there was the insurance they needed for the day, and the officers to direct traffic and so on