Personal Revolution: Cabot's Crossing, #1

By Devon Ellington

When a man is hanged from the oak tree in a Redcoat uniform at an historic house just before the Independence Day program, Glenda is determined to both solve the murder and protect the newly-opened museum. What she finds is much darker — and more personal — than she bargained.

• Language: English
• Publisher: DEW Books
• Release date: Jun 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201633615

Devon Ellington

Devon Ellington publishes under half a dozen names in fiction and nonfiction. She is also an internationally-produced playwright and radio writer. She has published six novels, dozens of short stories, and hundreds of articles under the various names. She spent over 25 years working backstage in theatre, including Broadway, and in film and television production. 

Book preview

Personal Revolution

T hat’s taking authenticity too far. I shaded my eyes with one hand, staring. A figure in a redcoat uniform dangled from the enormous oak at the side of the house. I sighed, irritated with myself for being irritated that I now had a dead body on my hands. Even an effigy would have been out of tone for today, but putting an actual corpse on the tree was...excessive.

Are you sure it’s real? Lizzy Hamilton tugged at the white cotton apron of her costume.

Discolored skin, bulging eyes, black tongue...yeah, I’d say it’s real. I pulled out my phone and punched in 9-1-1. Hello? This is Glenda Sikowksy, executive director of the Abby Turnbull House on Meekham Road. I have a dead body wearing a redcoat uniform hanging from my oak tree...I have no idea how long he’s been there...No, don’t recognize the guy. No, I’m not going to stay on the line until you get here...look, I know you’ve got to be thorough, but I’m expecting a couple of hundred people here for a performance of the Declaration of Independence and Abby’s personal letters in less than an hour. I’ve got to figure out where to put them, since under the oak tree is no longer an option. Please, just send someone...I’m hanging up now. Thank you. I clicked off and turned to Lizzy, still staring at the body.

I keep thinking I should feel more...something, she said.

It’ll come later, I promised. Poor kid. Now, I need your help. Focus now, and if you feel sick later, I’ll send you home.

I don’t want to go home. Lizzy swallowed. Her large blue eyes met my hazel ones. I’m here to do a job. What do you need?

I wish I’d been as self-controlled as Lizzy was at seventeen. I’d have avoided a lot of heartbreak. "I have to stay with the body until the cops get here. The performance will have to happen in the back garden beside the refreshment tables, instead of out here. Have Becky and Finn change the signs