Floodtide

Born in a shack on Natchez-Under-the Hill, the abode of cutthroats, thieves, brawling river men and ladies of easy virtue, Ross Pary, when he returned from abroad in 1850, had one goal that loomed as large as the horizon: to reach Natchez-on-the-Hill, where gentlemen planters lived in porticoed mansions with their ladies, in a life of graciousness and ease, attended by swarms of liveried slaves. In measurable space it was less than a mile between these two worlds of Natchez, but in terms of human achievement, it could be attained only by a climber who refused to recognize its impossibility.

To aid him in his climb Ross Pary had none of the advantages of birth and little material wealth, but he did have the tongue of a poet, the hand of an artist, the manners of a gentleman, and a deceiving softness that appealed to women with the directness of a new Paris bonnet. It was these women of Natchez, those who "belonged," who were willing to forget his humble origin to give him his first lift towards his goal.

But it was only Morgan Brittany who was certain that she and she alone could control and further his ambitions and desires. Ravishingly lovely, with her black hair and eyes, Morgan's sweet, deceptively innocent expression never ceased to shock those who, like Ross, came to know her intimately. For behind that inviting face was appalling evil; in the twisted recesses of her brain lurked forces of limitless cruelty. Morgan, Ross came to believe, hated men; the mainspring of her being was her desire to revenge herself upon the entire masculine sex. And her weapons were the enchantment of her smile, the singing provocation of her body, the voluptuous invitation of her voice. She used them all on Ross, but she underrated Conchita Izquierdo, lovely Cuban refugee fleeing the wrath of Imperial Spain, and Cathy Linton, freckle-faced hoyden, Georgia-plantation born, who could ride, swear and smoke like a man, but who loved like a woman.

Conchita was all sunlight and laughter, providing all the antidote a man needed against Morgan's baleful poisons. For where Morgan was cruel, Conchita was tender. Yet it was Conchita who drew Ross into the vortex of a gallant Cuban revolt, which, with its heroism and sacrifices and cruelties, left a lasting impression on Ross and brought him the greatest tragedy of his life. And it was Cathy who finally forced him into taking a stand that made him deny his birthright.