Meet Sunday from God, Send Sunday by Jacqueline Freeman Wheelock

Q. Welcome, Sunday Duval. We are fortunate to have you stop in today. The name “Sunday” is beautiful and riveting. How did you come about it?

A. It would be necessary for you to ask my mother, who is now-deceased, about that—which I never did—at least that I recall. What I do know is that the lion’s share of bad things that have happened to me seems to have happened on Sundays.

Q. As a slave during the Civil War period, would you tell us a bit about your unplanned travels?

A.  I’m originally from Virginia, and I had no desire to leave. Why trade one bad situation for another? Wasn’t that the way of it for black people in America? But after having been forced from my home state via a coffle—walking all day and sleeping in the open air or in a rat-infested barn at night—and a trip down the Ohio and Mississippi rivers, I finally ended up in Vicksburg, Mississippi where I now live.

Q. That must have been traumatic.

A. It’s almost too painful to discuss, since I had gone to every length to be an obedient slave. By doing so, I was actually trying to make sure I was never sold downriver, and I must say that traveling hundreds of miles as the only woman chained to a group of surly and sometimes overprotective male slaves was a nightmare that still occupies many of my sleeping hours. 

Q. Pardon my lack of sensibilities, but you are quite articulate for an ex-slave.

A. Both of my fathers saw to it, and that is all I will say about that.

Q. As an African descendant during the era of slavery in America, what event most impacted your life?

A. Again, this type of question gives me pause because even though I still have nightmares, I try during my conscious hours not to dwell overmuch on the exceptionally hard times of my life. But I can state, without equivocation, that watching my parents murdered in our front yard when I was six—simply because they were free people of color—impacted me as nothing else has and put my life on a projectile of nearly unmitigated suffering, the scars of which I bear today. 

Q. Hmm. I can only imagine. As I understand it, you are married, but you did not marry for love. Why do slaves marry in the first place when it’s rarely, if ever, legal, and why wasn’t yours a marriage for love and affection?

A. Many slaves do marry—or at least simulate the ritual—simply because, like other human beings, they fall in love and want the relationship blessed by their Creator, but as you say, my marriage was different.

Q. Understandable. And how was your marriage different from other slaves?

A. I did not consider love when I married Noah. The word was meaningless to me. I married solely to give birth—to bring a child into this world whom I could call my own, at least until he or she was sold from me.

Q. Did you count the cost of what it would be like when or if you ever had to see your child sent to the market?

A. No.

Q. No? No further explanation?

A. What else is there to say? Planning too far into the future is not a sensible option for a slave. Slaves live in the moment by the grace of God

Q. What would you do if you had life to live over? 

A. Love my good-looking husband from day one of our marriage the way he deserved to be loved.

Q. If you had just one prayer—sure to be answered from God in a positive way—what would it be?

A. That people of African descent could one day travel the streets and roads of these United States and frequent public places of worship, entertainment, and buying and selling without fear.

Q. Well, this about concludes our interview. Thank you for further insight into your life and mindset as a slave. Is there anything else you are urged to comment upon?

A. I cannot say it was a pleasure discussing my past, but I can say that I thank you for the opportunity. I believe open discussion is necessary for the growth and health of the country, and I’m happy to advance that cause any time.


Jacqueline Freeman Wheelock is a multi-genre author whose works range from Christian-based historical novels, short stories, and devotionals to a memoir of growing up during and after segregation. Her novels share the narratives of African American women seeking their identities in the difficult setting of the old South. 

A former high school and college English teacher, her first novel, A Most Precious Gift, debuted in 2014 and made Amazon’s Best Seller list in African American Historical Fiction. In 2017, she released its sequel, In Pursuit of an Emerald. In January of 2022, she published The Lords of Wensy Wells, and on August 2nd of the same year, she released her latest novel, God, Send Sunday.  

Published multiple times by University Press of Mississippi, she has been a member of the American Christian Fiction Writers for over a decade. Jacqueline and her husband Donald have two married adult children and two granddaughters.

A Conversation with Emily Leland from After the Shadows by Amanda Cabot

 

A brighter future awaits—if she can escape the shadows of the past 

Emily Leland sheds no tears when her abusive husband is killed in a bar fight, but what awaits her back home in Sweetwater Crossing is far from the welcome and comfort she expected. First she discovers her father has died under mysterious circumstances. Then the house where the handsome new schoolteacher, Craig Ferguson, and his son are supposed to board burns, leaving them homeless. When Emily proposes turning the family home into a boardinghouse, her sister is so incensed that she leaves town.

Alone and broke, her family name sullied by controversy, Emily is determined to solve the mystery of her father’s death—and to aid Craig, despite her fears of men. The widowed schoolmaster proves to be a devoted father, an innovative teacher, and an unexpected ally. As they work to uncover the truth, they just may find the key to unlock a future neither could have imagined.

Welcome to NovelPASTimes. For those who haven’t met you, please introduce yourself.

I’m Emily Vaughn. No, that’s not right. I’m Emily Leland now.

That’s a common mistake for newlyweds. Is Leland your married name?

Yes. I was married for over a year, but fortunately I’m a widow now.

Fortunately? Most women wouldn’t find being widowed fortunate.

That’s because they weren’t married to George Leland. Marrying him was the biggest mistake of my life. If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about him.

Certainly. Let’s discuss something more pleasant. Sweetwater Crossing seems like a nice town.

I love it. Oh, we have our share of problems, but I’m convinced it’s the most beautiful town in the Hill Country, maybe in all of Texas.

I couldn’t help noticing that one of the houses on Creek Road appears out of place here.

You’re not the first person to say that. That’s my home, Finley House. There’s a long story about it and why it’s as large and elaborate as it is. The abbreviated version is that Clive Finley, a man from Alabama, built it for his fiancée shortly before the War Between the States. Sadly, he died before he could bring her here. He asked my father to take care of the house until he returned from the war, which is why my family has lived there ever since. And, yes, it’s much bigger than we need and the taxes have taken much of my father’s stipend as the town’s minister, but my sisters and I consider ourselves fortunate to live there.

Sisters, as in plural. I always wished I had at least one. Tell me about yours.

I’m the oldest of the three of us, and no matter what my sisters claim, I’m not bossy. Not very often, anyway. It’s just that growing up, they sometimes needed guidance. But you asked about the others. Joanna – she’s the one in the middle – can make even an out of tune piano sound good. Right now she’s in Europe studying to be a concert pianist. Louisa hates being called the baby of the family, even though she is. She can’t bear to see anyone in pain. That’s why she plans to be a doctor.

What wonderful aspirations. What is yours?

I thought I was going to be a good wife and mother like my own mother, but …

Oh, Emily, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I only have one more question. I saw a fresh grave outside the cemetery. Who’s buried there?

I’ll try to say this without shedding too many tears. That’s my father’s grave. His death was considered scandalous, so he wasn’t allowed to be buried in consecrated ground, but don’t believe the stories you may hear. My father did not take his own life. I’m as certain of that as I am that the sun sets in the west, and if it’s the last thing I do, I will discover who murdered him.


Amanda Cabot is the bestselling author of more than forty books and a variety of novellas. Her books have been honored with a starred review from Publishers Weekly and have been finalists for the ACFW Carol Award, the HOLT Medallion, and the Booksellers’ Best. 

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An interview with Jakob Schmidt from The Prodigal Sons by Aubrey Taylor

Welcome to Novel PASTimes! We are pleased you stopped by today.

Thank you for having me.

Tell me about your name, Jakob. 

I don’t actually like to be called Jakob. It was given to me at Christening, but my full name is Jakob Helmuth Wilhelm Schmidt, and these days my comrades all know me as Helmuth.

Why the change?

Well, Jakob is too religious. God’s never done much good for me. Besides, if you know anything about the times I’m living in, it’s just not a good name to have. On the other hand, Helmuth is a combination of two old German words. “Helm” is a covering or protection, and “muth” denotes spirit or courage. 

Sounds like that’s the image you want to portray.

Absolutely.

Fascinating. Well, Helmuth, tell us something about where you live.

I was born in Munich, Germany in 1916 and lived there until 1934 when I left for training in Berlin. I have been stationed at the Lichterfelde Barracks ever since. 

What goes on at Lichterfelde?

It’s just the base I’m stationed at. I’m sort of a bodyguard for the Führer. Not that I’m one of his closest bodyguards—not yet anyway. I do other functions like stand guard outside his residence, for parades, and so on. Sometimes I do have waiter duty. I have to put a white jacket over my uniform and serve his meals. I emphasize the word duty because it’s not my favorite part of the job.

Wow. Well, what did you do before all that?

[Chuckles] Oh, that’s an interesting topic. 

How so?

Well, I had to kind of reinvent myself over the years. I wasn’t much more than a church mouse when I was growing up. I played piano and led the music at church services. I wrote hymns but also a few cantatas, oratorios… you get the idea. 

You must be quite talented.

Yes, actually.

Why the change?

It didn’t suit me. I was quiet, bookish, and got beat up a lot when I was in my early teens. I finally decided I no longer wanted to be a victim. 

So the name change kind of went along with everything else.

Indeed. My wife doesn’t like it too well though. I’m still her Jakob.

Tell me about your wife. 

Ach, Emma. I haven’t seen her in months.

Uh oh. Are we treading into volatile territory here? 

Well, she doesn’t exactly… approve of my life choices, so she’s still down in Munich. 

Are you happy with the arrangement?

[Hesitates] Can we go off the record for a few minutes?

As in not printing this part of the conversation? I can’t make any guarantees…

Eh, whatever. For the sake of the readers I’ll do it. I love Emma, and of course I’d rather be with her. I used to go home to visit, but it just resulted in her berating me, my beliefs, and every decision I’ve made since I was 15. I still can’t figure out why she went through with marrying me except that she felt bound by a vow we had made.

Would you try to work things out if you could?

Absolutely. I’m not asking her to believe the same things I do, but I do wish she’d stop slamming the door in my face. Do you know she didn’t even congratulate me or come to the parade the day I was supposed to be sworn in? A man has his pride, you know.

Thank you for being so honest with us, Helmuth.

It felt good to get it off my chest, honestly.

Maybe she’ll read this and think about what you’ve said. 

Ja. I haven’t written to her or anything. I don’t think I can handle any more direct confrontation. It’s easier to just go about my business here. 


After creating stories prolifically as a child, Aubrey experienced a renewed interest in writing as she entered her 40s. She lives in Upstate New York with her husband and three children, and enjoys reading, playing music, crafting, sketching, exploring the outdoors, and traveling whenever possible. She is a lover of Jesus, the Bible, history, German culture, tea, and cats, and has a special heart for those who struggle with severe anxiety and depression. www.aubreytaylorbooks.com

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