Second book in the Waters of the River Red Series
Read the first chapter Free.
The story begins after the preview.
The Story of Josephine and the Men who loved her. The very strong, always in control Feen comes face to face with a nightmare she’d never imagined, in a town where she’d always felt safe. A close friend violently rapes her and shakes her trust in humanity and the despicable act troubles her husband, Luke. So begins Susane Lavallais Boykins’ mesmerizing new novel as it continues the tale about life in a small town in Louisiana. It follows the tribulations and successes of Josephine, Luke, Adrian, Charlotte and the rest of her family, beginning in the 1930s Depression and ending in the 1960s. Luke becomes fascinated with a young woman who is obsessed with him, and fights temptation, while he ignores her troubling behaviors. A strong belief in superstition keeps Feen’s family embroiled in a whirlwind of occurrences that leads to disastrous consequences. As she weaves her way to the 1970’s, many misfortunes befall her and her relatives, including poverty, adultery, domestic violence and murder. With a shocking revelation of betrayal, will she be able to rejuvenate her marriage or will she be tempted to face scandal and move on with someone else?
Click this link to purchase Loving Josephine.
~ CHAPTER 1 ~
Marksville, La.
September 1934
Her large brimmed straw hat shielded her eyes from the blazing sun and bobbled up and down, as she scurried down the gravel country road. Drops of sweat ran down her medium brown, complexioned face and large wet spots were visible in the armpit areas of her husband, Luke’s, large over shirt that she’d worn to protect her arms. Even though she had shoes on, the hot rocks that protected the cars and wagons from getting stuck in the Louisiana red clay during the rainy season, were hurting her feet.
Twenty-eight-year-old Josephine Ford, known to her friends as Feen, was deep in thought, because she’d awakened that morning with a feeling she couldn’t explain. A feeling something terrible was going to happen that day. However, she’d needed groceries for supper, so she’d put her misgivings aside and taken this two-mile walk to Donay’s store, anyway.
The peacefulness and splendor of the countryside didn’t soothe her thoughts and she attempted to calm her spirit by humming a gospel song. Gospel songs always set her back into the right frame of mind. She was near home and should be there before her seven-year-old daughter, Laura, arrived from school.
“Feen,” a familiar female voice called from a porch of a nearby house. It was Clarice, the sister of her best friend, Teresa, standing with one of her hands raised in a wave. Clarice lived with Teresa, and Feen wondered why she wasn’t in the fields. She’d probably snuck off, as was her habit of doing.
“How do, Clarice. Don’t have time ta talk now. Tryna git home.” Feen answered in her strong creole accent that most of the older less educated blacks spoke with. She didn’t slow her pace or wave back.
“Okay. Guess I’ll see ya at church, Sunday,” Clarice hollered back with her voice showing disappointment because Feen hadn’t stopped to talk with her.
At the store, she’d exchanged two dozen eggs her hens had laid, along with her last dollar, for two links of sausage, two pounds of rice and one pound of sugar. She carried this in an old fabric flour sack, tied at the top and flung over her shoulder.
The houses were spread far apart and between them lay pastures of lush green grass, fields of cotton, corn, potatoes and rice. Sprinkled along the sides of the road were trees displaying the coming of autumn with leaves of different shades of orange, rust and gold.
She’d passed another house before she heard her name called again. This time it was from someone behind her on the road. She turned to see Wickliffe Francisco running to catch up with her.
“Feen,” he said, once he was walking beside her.
“Hey Wickliffe,” she said. “Where ya come from?” She usually traveled back and forth to the neighborhood store and never saw a soul. Today she’d run into two people.
“I was over at my cousin’s house and saw you pass by. Hadn’t talk to you in a while, so I thought I’d catch up so we could talk,” he said.
“Why ya not at work today?” she asked.
“I left early to help my cousin fix a fence. What are you thinking about? With your head down, walking fast.”
“Tryna git home ‘fore Laura,” she said. “I’ll see ya at church, Sunday. Tell ya mom and dem, I ax ‘bout dem.” With that dismissal, she hoped he’d catch the hint she didn’t want to talk right then.
Wickliffe was a handsome, tall colored man with a smooth dark brown skinned complexion. He worked at Marksville’s largest sawmill. Hauling and stacking lumber caused him to be trim and muscular. Most of the colored girls in town thought he was “just the cutest thing.” She’d once thought so herself. But now, she had eyes for only her husband, Lucien, nicknamed Luke.
She knew Wickliffe was still a little sweet on her and the way he looked her up and down right then, irritated her. Her light blue shift-like dress with one of Luke’s long-sleeved shirts that was way too big for her, was not the least bit sexy, so why was he acting like it was. Sometimes, she’d had fun with him and flirted back. Today, she was not in the mood for that kind of playfulness.
So, when she reached Perret’s Path, she turned onto it and expected him to continue straight. Instead, he’d followed her and she’d let out a huge sigh.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “You act like you don’t want to talk to me or something. Why?”
“Taint nothin’, Wickliffe. Jus’ got a lot on ma mind. S’all.”
The path was small with tall grass and bushes on each side of it. She walked with her head down to make sure she stayed on it. The footpath was used a lot by people in a hurry, not usually two people, socializing, because the chance of encountering snakes or other varmints made the road a better place for conversation.
They came to a familiar place, a clearing under a large pecan tree they’d played under when they were children. A place with a lot of pleasant memories and the shade gave blessed relief from the sun. She put her sack down and wiped the sweat from her face with a handkerchief. This was an excellent time to find out what it was he wanted to talk about, so maybe he’d go on about his business. She took a deep breath and looked squarely in his eyes.
“Remember when we went to the parish fair that time? What a good time we had. Remember that?” he asked.
Nodding her head, she said, “Yeah, I ‘member. We did have a good time. But, dat a long-time pass.” She emphasized long to make her point. “Dis a diff’rent time. We’s chirren den. I’m twenty-eight years old now.”
His eyes ran quickly over her plump lips, large brown eyes and smooth brown complexion.
“You know, you still look good, Feen. Mighty good.”
“Well, tank ya Wickliffe. Ma husband tell me dat all the time.”
He rolled his eyes in his head and said, “Yeah, I bet he does.”
She rolled her eyes in response. “Look, I gots ta go, and I know ya got sometin’ ta do, and I don’t wanna keep ya from it,” she said.
He caught her by her left arm and she jumped. Her head jerked toward him and her eyes opened wide. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Aww, c’mon now. I just want to talk awhile.”
His facial expression was serious and his eyes had a darkness about them. She believed he’d never understood why she’d chosen Luke over him. He’d finished high school and Luke had only gone to fourth grade. He read a lot of books, spoke well and talked about things the rest of them didn’t know anything about.
“I already done tol’ ya, I gotta git home.”
“You can talk a little while. Because if you didn’t want to talk, you wouldn’t have turned down Perret’s Path.” His voice had a low thick sound to it.
“What?” she exploded. “Perret’s Path go by the back a ma house, Fool. Ain’t nothin’ ta do witcha. Jus’ tryna take ashortcut.” She was tired, frustrated, hot and her temper exploded faster than normal. “I got a husband, a goodhusband. I don’t need ta bring nobody down Perret’s Path ta talk. Or nothin’ else.”
She shook her arm out of his grasp and turned to walk away. His eyes dimmed and he grabbed her arm again. Stronger this time.
“Hold on a minute. Just hold on a minute,” he said.
“I done tol’ ya, now. I ain’t got time,” she said in a low hissing voice as she jerked her arm away.
His arm flew out and his fist connected hard on the back of her head which caused her to stumble forward.
Ya hit me,” she said in a loud voice with her eyes wide.
The contact hurt her, but more than that, it surprised her. For as long as she’d known him, she’d never seen him act aggressively in any way. Her anger was more than she could contain.
She slapped him back with all her might. She was quite strong, due to years of hard work and his head rotated with the lick.
When he faced her again, his eyes glistened and his lips curled above his teeth. He lurched forward, caught both of her arms with each of his hands and pushed them behind her back. This forced her body next to his and he attempted to kiss her. She wrestled with him, and her face moved from side to side to avoid his lips. When he seemed to be unmoved by her attempts, she spat in his face.
His head flinched and his eyes widened. He released her left arm and hit her on the left side of her head with his fist. As her head swayed with the force of his punch, it exploded with pain and her knees buckled.
He pulled her back to him. His arms and body kept her from falling. She was now leaning on him and he tried to kiss her again. Her disgust was so great an involuntary reflex made her spit in his face again.
This time, he leaned back and threw a punch and hit her, squarely, on her lips.
Her head lurched back, her neck popped and she screamed in pain. Blood and mucus drained from her nose and lips. Her legs were wobbly and her body rested almost entirely on him. She strained with all of her might to pull away.
“Why ya doin’ dis ta me?” she whispered.
“Oh. Now, you want to talk, huh? I guess you’re not as bad as you thought, huh?”
From somewhere, strength came and she stepped on his right foot as hard as she could. He yelled in pain and his arms released her.
She turned to run away, but because of her weakened condition, she was slow and only made it a few steps.
He recovered fast and jumped on her from behind. As his body brought them both to the ground, they brushed hard against some thorny limbs of blackberry bushes. The broken limbs came down with them and some landed under her. The weight of him crushed her chest, making it difficult to breath, and the thorns underneath her, tore into her flesh.
Breathing heavily, he turned her over and slapped her across her face. Fighting for her life, she clawed him across his face and arms.
“Goddamn you, Feen,” he said, and backhanded her. Bells rang in her head and a loud sob flowed from her lips.
“Lawd, help me,” she said.
Still wrestling beneath him, she kicked him in the groin, but her strength was nearly gone and it didn’t have enough force to stop him. It only served to anger him more. He made a fist and hit her so hard in the stomach that blood flew from her mouth. As the swoosh of air escaped from her lungs, it took the last of her resistance with it.
She had no strength left. She tried, but could not raise her arms. One of her eyes had swollen shut and her mouth was filled with blood. Air rushed against her legs as he raised her skirt and despair overcame her as the sound of his pants unzipping reached her.
She said, “No, no. Gawd, please help me.”
His hand touched her thighs and she said, “Wickliffe, please. Please. No.”
She tried to keep her legs together, but he forced them apart.
The bands of her underwear tore into her skin as the fabric gave way.
“No. No.”
Now the helplessness of her situation seemed to be overwhelming and she needed to remove herself from that place and time, if not in body, then in spirit. His face became a blur. His movements and speech sounded in slow motion.
“Why you had to fight me?” he uttered as he worked to complete his assault.
The pain and the smell of his cologne made her stomach heave. It was the same brand she’d bought for Luke last Christmas. The odor she’d loved so much that she’d saved every extra penny she could, to get it, now nauseated her. His heavy breathing, grunting and nasty sentiments degraded her to her soul. She wept, softly, until he was finished and she heard his final groan.
He lay on her for a second, then arose and she heard him as he adjusted his clothing, then the sound of his zipper again. There was quietness for it seemed like an eternity. Her eyes were closed as his hand touched her face. She lay very still as she waited for him to hit her again or for his hand to move to her neck to choke her. All her strength was gone. She was at his mercy and sure he was going to kill her.
His sob broke the quietness. She was puzzled and tried to see what was happening, but one eye was swollen shut and the other was brimming with tears.
His anguished voice said, “Oh my God. What did I do? What did I do? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It was a game. You know the game we play. It was a game that got out of control. Please God, forgive me.”
His voice seemed far away and as he spoke, the volume of it gradually diminished. She went into blessed unconsciousness.
This is the end of the first Chapter. Click this link to purchase Loving Josephine.
Some of the Testimonials
LaDasha Roberts Oh, my Gosh! Talk about Mrs. Susane Lavallais Boykins has done it again! Her new book, "Loving Josephine" just took me places. I didn't think it could get any better after reading her last novel, "Waters of the River Red"! The drama, the passion between real lovers and the life she brings out of these characters is incredibly divine. Get your copy today! Pat Boss So, Josephine has consumed my afternoon! I should have unpacked first but nooooooo. I just got it from the post office, thought i would read a few pages...but nooooooo...it won't let me put it down!!! Susane Lavallais Boykins, you've done it again!!!! It's a great read!!! Jannette Gosha OMG!!! ... “Loving Josephine” by Susane Lavallais Boykins, had me in tears and emotionally drained by the end of Chapter 6. Here’s a snippet of what you have to look forward to if you read on Amazon Prime, or just BUY THE BOOK!!! The Story of Josephine and the Men who loved her. The very strong, always in control Feen comes face to face with a nightmare she’d never imagined, in a town where she’d always felt safe. A close friend violently rapes her and shakes her trust in humanity and the despicable act troubles her husband, Luke.So begins Susane Lavallais Boykins’ mesmerizing new novel as it continues the tale about life in a small town in Louisiana. It follows the tribulations and successes of Josephine, Luke, Adrian, Charlotte and the rest of her family, beginning in the 1930s Depression and ending in the 1960s. Luke becomes fascinated with a young woman who is obsessed with him, and fights temptation, while he ignores her troubling behaviors. A strong belief in superstition keeps Feen’s family embroiled in a whirlwind of occurrences that leads to disastrous consequences. As she weaves her way to the 1970’s, many misfortunes befall her and her relatives, including poverty, adultery, domestic violence and murder. With a shocking revelation of betrayal, will she be able to rejuvenate her marriage or will she be tempted to face scandal and move on with someone else? Ramona Bernard Mathis I curled up for about one hour after returning home and I made it to Chapter 10! "GIRL - I don't want to put this book down!!!!" But I had to go for my 3 mile run - I am about to pick it back up! I am loving it!!!! Marchelle Excellent read! The story grabbed me from the start and I couldn’t put it down. I can’t wait for the next part of the series! Amazon Customer This book is a must read for the lovers of fiction. Susane Lavallais- Boykins takes us on a masterfully written journey into the life, love and loneliness of the main character Josephine. This story is about a strong woman, mother, friend and the men who loved her. The story takes us back to the 1930’s depression era in the Deep South and brings us into the 1960’s as we go on the incredible journey of life and what it entails for Josephine. Susane Lavallais- Boykins rises to the challenge and gives us a successful and convincing glimpse into the past. If you are looking for a good book with an engaging plot, realistic characters; a book that defines romance; a dose of the familiar; characters that make you feel like old friends you can identify with. This is the book for you. T. S. Hinton It is impossible to write “oh, it was a good read” reviews about some literary creations. Some works of literature are so raw, so gritty, they hit you in the soul. They grab your heart and your head. The characters become so real, you become them. In the opening scene of “Loving Josephine”, author Susane Lavallais Boykins, drops you right into the whirlwind that is the life of Josephine (Feen). “Loving Josephine” is a book that will take you “there”. Presented in native Louisiana dialect, it’s easy to find yourself on that dirt road. Even if you’ve never stepped foot inside the state, the detail of the surroundings provided by Boykins will make you believe you have. The ability to so fully immerse a reader into the scene is attributed to talent - unbridled talent. That is the only way to this author’s way of telling the story. It’s easy to feel all the things Feen feels. You can’t help but get caught up in Luke’s dismay after the horrific event that was devised to upset their home. This isn’t a “feel good” book in the traditional way because as a reader, you’re exposed to both the goodness of mankind as well as the straight, unadulterated evil that can possess people, as it does the characters Clarice and Wickliffe. Where anyone would think such selfishness doesn’t exist, these characters proved that it does. It is a “feel good” book, though, when the strength and determination of those who were meant to be broken refuse to take any of it lying down. Boykins kept my attention throughout the entirely of the book by keeping the characters real. When Feen has to face one of the major sources of her pain, she proves to be one of the strongest women ever. She is no shrinking violet, but the author didn’t make her level of strength unbelievable. She is a woman who is a hero without even knowing it. I highly recommend “Loving Josephine”. If you enjoy “real” stories, if you like to get lost in the pages of a book, this is the one for you. There is enough backstory so the reader is not lost, but do yourself a favor and read the first book in the “Waters of the River Red Series”. You’ll thank me.
Click this link to purchase Loving Josephine in the paperback, hardcover or kindle format.