“Sterling?” Her pulse kicked up another notch. Cole’s cousin no longer worked for the police force, but he’d remained close with several officers whom he’d hoped would eventually slip information. “Is it a substantial lead?”
He snagged the belt of her coat, reeling her to him. “Heart-stopping.” He pressed a kiss to her neck. “And so are you.” His lips trailed her jaw until claiming her mouth.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and Cole deepened the kiss.
Someone rapped the door.
Cole groaned. “If it’s Frank, I’m going to kick him in the pants.” He adjusted his hat, which had been knocked askew, and opened the door.
Father stood there, brows raised and eyes suspicious. “Do I have to separate you two?”
Elissa laughed and bussed his cheek. “Not necessary. We’re off to check out a story.” She grabbed her purse and flashed a cheeky grin at Father. “You think you can hold the fort while we’re gone?”
“I’m pretty sure I can handle it.” His words were flat, but the twinkle in his gray eyes gave away his delight. Alfred Tillman remained a newspaperman through and through.
She snatched her gloves from the drawer and met Cole by the door.
With a wave to her father, Elissa slid her hand into Cole’s, a prayer of thanks filling her heart.
Her dreams had been elusive like a breath of wind, but her value wasn’t found in triumphs. Or failures. God’s love defined her. Cole’s love embraced her. Her life’s story remained unfinished, but blank pages no longer meant insufficiency. Just the privilege to fill the bare spaces with adventure, excitement, and living her days to the fullest. While her future remained to be chronicled, the narrative was His to pen.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Dear Reader,
Thank you for taking a chance on a debut author. I sincerely hope you enjoyed Elissa and Cole’s story. If you’re curious about which factors of this book are true, I’m happy to provide details!
While the Review is a fictional paper, fierce competition between newspapers existed during this period. There’d been morning, afternoon, and evening editions of newspapers available, but the introduction of radio—and with it, the expediency of current news updates—caused newspapers to struggle to keep their presses running.
The views displayed in this story concerning Prohibition in Pittsburgh are sadly accurate. At one point during the twenties, over five hundred speakeasies operated within its borders. Bootleggers paid police officials for protection. One illegal establishment operated directly across the street from a police station! Because the local police wouldn’t uphold the law, the state government stepped in and conducted raids.
The Allegheny courthouse, described at the beginning and the end of the book, is truly a work of structural art, boasting rusticated granite and massive archways. The “Bridge of Sighs” was colloquially coined because convicted criminals were escorted from the courthouse to the county jail via an enclosed stone walkway hovering over Ross Street. The courthouse and its walkway remain, but the jail had been closed and renovated to become a court of common pleas.
The William Penn, the location of the gala, is an actual hotel complete with a lavish ballroom. If you visit this hotel, you’ll notice there is, in fact, a speakeasy. The lounge is still tucked beneath the lobby and has been restored to its former historic decor.
Howe Springs is another real site. While the lavish estate which was situated behind it has been replaced by other buildings, the stone fountain still stands.
My favorite historical location mentioned in this story is the Duquesne Incline. The incline during the twenties was only viewed as a convenient means for locals to safely and quickly travel Mount Washington. Today, the incline is noted as a must-see tourist spot in Pittsburgh. The once pocked and barren mountainside now flourishes with vivid greenery, and the steel factories and smokestacks have been replaced by a crisp city skyline. The view is truly breathtaking.
Those familiar with the area will recognize street names such as Forbes Avenue, Cherry Way, and Fifth Avenue as well as the areas of Shadyside, Oakland, and Point Breeze. I aimed to keep everything geographically correct.
Thanks again for reading this story of my heart. If you’re interested in more of my writings and the latest news, you’re welcome to visit me at RachelScottMcDaniel.com or on social media.
Blessings,
Rachel
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