The moment Martha Jefferson discovers that a few drops of Negro blood course through her aristocratic veins, she knows she will do anything to keep this terrible secret from her politically ambitious husband, Thomas.

When fire strikes Monticello, the resulting repairs to Thomas Jefferson's historic home reveal a human skeleton, and the questions begin. . . the "when" is easily discovered, but the "who" and the "why" weave a tantalizing mystery that is Monticello's dark secret.

In this well-researched novel, which successfully melds historical fact with an intriguing 'what if', we are led back in time to the gripping tale of two women, Martha Jefferson and Betty Hemings, mother of infamous Sally Hemings, both forgotten threads in the rich tapestry of America's history. Nothing about them save their names has survived the centuries-- not a likeness nor a personal letter. We know both belonged to the same man, Thomas Jefferson, one through the vows of marriage and the other through the laws of slavery, and that both lived, dreamed and died in Virginia at a time in our new Nation when fact was more exciting than fiction.

Now, we can finally know and understand them as they might have been.

The moment Martha Jefferson discovers that a few drops of Negro blood course through her aristocratic veins, she knows she will do anything to keep this terrible secret from her politically ambitious husband, Thomas.

When fire strikes Monticello, the resulting repairs to Thomas Jefferson's historic home reveal a human skeleton, and the questions begin. . . the "when" is easily discovered, but the "who" and the "why" weave a tantalizing mystery that is Monticello's dark secret.

In this well-researched novel, which successfully melds historical fact with an intriguing 'what if', we are led back in time to the gripping tale of two women, Martha Jefferson and Betty Hemings, mother of infamous Sally Hemings, both forgotten threads in the rich tapestry of America's history. Nothing about them save their names has survived the centuries-- not a likeness nor a personal letter. We know both belonged to the same man, Thomas Jefferson, one through the vows of marriage and the other through the laws of slavery, and that both lived, dreamed and died in Virginia at a time in our new Nation when fact was more exciting than fiction.

Now, we can finally know and understand them as they might have been.

Everyone thought I was upstairs asleep.
But I wasn't.
I saw and heard everything that happened the terrible night
my mother was brutally murdered.

I heard what he snarled as he pushed her face into the sidewalk
with his foot between her shoulders.
I saw him yank her head back by her beautiful blonde hair and
slit her throat before she could scream for help.
I will hear her soft, helpless gurgle until the day I die.

For all these years, I have been afraid to say anything.
If he could kill her like that, he could kill me without a second thought.
My silence was my only safety.

I was only nine years old, and my Mom was my best friend.
She told me once, "He'll kill me someday, and being him,
the All-American hero, he'll get away with it."
And, unbelievably, he did.
He got away with murder.

But I'm not afraid anymore. I've waited this long, endless time.
I have a plan and I've honed it to perfection.
Everything is ready.
I'm going to send my Father to hell for butchering my Mother,
and no one will ever know.
I, too, will get away with murder.