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R. Gaston
Goodreads Author
Born
in San Francisco, CA, The United States
Genre
Member Since
December 2010
On the way.
Thanks to the many readers who entered my giveaway of The War Within. I am sorry I can't award each of you with a copy, but my pockets are not that deep.
The winners should be receiving their books within a week. They have ben mailed.
For those that won a copy, I hope you enjoy the story.
For those who entered, but did not win, I hope you will go to Amazon and pick up a digital or paperback copy.
To Read more of this blog post »
The winners should be receiving their books within a week. They have ben mailed.
For those that won a copy, I hope you enjoy the story.
For those who entered, but did not win, I hope you will go to Amazon and pick up a digital or paperback copy.
To Read more of this blog post »
|
The War Within: Civil War Post Traumatic Stress and the culture conflict in West Texas
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published
2013
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* Note: these are all the books on Goodreads for this author. To add more, click here.
“You have all this hate bottled up inside. The war is over. Pull the cork, Major Morgan. Empty the bottle."
"You're like a damn cat at a mouse hole," he snarled.
"Why are you out in this godforsaken wilderness with murdering Comanche? Do you have a death wish?"
Morgan blinked, then looked down and raked the coals around the coffee can and murmured, "I keep asking myself, what if I stayed home, or came west with Hanna Leigh and not gone to war. It wasn't my war. I didn't want it, but Virginia tradition conscripted me."
He banked the coals and cleared his throat. "I lost everything in the war, or afterwards to carpetbaggers and crooked judges...they even took my home and Hanna Leigh's grave." He fell silent and raked the ashes.
Cathleen picked up a wood chip and joined Morgan in poking at the fire. "Are we going to die?" Then in a whisper added, "It doesn't matter, I won't have a...after they...”
―
"You're like a damn cat at a mouse hole," he snarled.
"Why are you out in this godforsaken wilderness with murdering Comanche? Do you have a death wish?"
Morgan blinked, then looked down and raked the coals around the coffee can and murmured, "I keep asking myself, what if I stayed home, or came west with Hanna Leigh and not gone to war. It wasn't my war. I didn't want it, but Virginia tradition conscripted me."
He banked the coals and cleared his throat. "I lost everything in the war, or afterwards to carpetbaggers and crooked judges...they even took my home and Hanna Leigh's grave." He fell silent and raked the ashes.
Cathleen picked up a wood chip and joined Morgan in poking at the fire. "Are we going to die?" Then in a whisper added, "It doesn't matter, I won't have a...after they...”
―
“I can explain it to you, but I can't make you understand it.”
― The War Within: Civil War Post Traumatic Stress and the culture conflict in West Texas
― The War Within: Civil War Post Traumatic Stress and the culture conflict in West Texas
“I can explain it to you, but I can't make you understand it.”
― The War Within: Civil War Post Traumatic Stress and the culture conflict in West Texas
― The War Within: Civil War Post Traumatic Stress and the culture conflict in West Texas
“You have all this hate bottled up inside. The war is over. Pull the cork, Major Morgan. Empty the bottle."
"You're like a damn cat at a mouse hole," he snarled.
"Why are you out in this godforsaken wilderness with murdering Comanche? Do you have a death wish?"
Morgan blinked, then looked down and raked the coals around the coffee can and murmured, "I keep asking myself, what if I stayed home, or came west with Hanna Leigh and not gone to war. It wasn't my war. I didn't want it, but Virginia tradition conscripted me."
He banked the coals and cleared his throat. "I lost everything in the war, or afterwards to carpetbaggers and crooked judges...they even took my home and Hanna Leigh's grave." He fell silent and raked the ashes.
Cathleen picked up a wood chip and joined Morgan in poking at the fire. "Are we going to die?" Then in a whisper added, "It doesn't matter, I won't have a...after they...”
―
"You're like a damn cat at a mouse hole," he snarled.
"Why are you out in this godforsaken wilderness with murdering Comanche? Do you have a death wish?"
Morgan blinked, then looked down and raked the coals around the coffee can and murmured, "I keep asking myself, what if I stayed home, or came west with Hanna Leigh and not gone to war. It wasn't my war. I didn't want it, but Virginia tradition conscripted me."
He banked the coals and cleared his throat. "I lost everything in the war, or afterwards to carpetbaggers and crooked judges...they even took my home and Hanna Leigh's grave." He fell silent and raked the ashes.
Cathleen picked up a wood chip and joined Morgan in poking at the fire. "Are we going to die?" Then in a whisper added, "It doesn't matter, I won't have a...after they...”
―
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