This summary provides context and key details from the document in 3 sentences: The document is an excerpt from a novel that provides historical context for the work, noting the author has tried to accurately portray 1774-1775 events in Boston but recognizes minor details may be adjusted for the story. The excerpt then shares a prologue where the main character William urgently seeks out his friend Dr. Joseph Warren late one night, fearing his mother and sister-in-law have taken ill, and they encounter musket fire and screams on their way to William's home, finding his sister-in-law has died and mother is gravely ill.

1. Family Reunion (Six Cousins #1) by Kelsey Bryant
Chapter1
“Emma!You knowwhatImean.Staying up late and basking in each other’spresenceevery hour
of the day . . . “
Baskingin each other’s presence is a littlegushy and old-fashioned.Itcan work fineif you explain
somewhere that Carolineis goingthrough a littlephase, likeAnne Shirley,of discoveringand usingbigwords.
Otherwise it sounds odd.
Chapter4
“So,do you like Texasin springtime,with its flower-studded green plainsthatseembigger
becauseof the small,scant,yet full trees, and its mild weather?”
Mariellesays thatshespeaks formally becauseof the poetic topic, even though she knows her cousins
don’t likethis styleof talking.But what’s poetic about these lines? They sound likean encyclopedia articleor
middle-gradegeography book about Texas.
Suggestion: “So do you likeTexas? I mean, I know I’m partial becauseit’s my home, but to me the epic sky
rollingover the fields of glorious flowers is justso beautiful .. . .” I trailed off nervously as I realized my cousins
didn’t remotely appreciatemy words.
Chapter7
“Justappreciatethe wavesof music.It’s like a sea tide thatwashesoveryou,justfilling your
brain with heavenly music.”
Music is repeated twice in a shortspaceof words—“heavenly sounds”might be substituted. Also,the
sentence is stiff.This is a thirteen-year-old girl—why does she sound likea middle-aged professor tryingto teach a
music appreciation class?
Chapter12
“Something of theworldviewof the nineteenth century Romanticsfrommy literature lessons
rang true forme; nature,encountered in solitude—orin my case,solitudewith bosomfriends—wasa
profound,superiorescapefromthedifficultiesof life thatradiated fromhuman society.”
This sounds fine,sinceshe is remembering textbooks and studies.But the context makes it awkward. This
erudite philosophizingon Nature comes from a girl who justengaged in a juvenileescapadeof climbingoutof
windows and tryingto annoy boys. The contrastbetween these two phases,in a short spaceof time, is too
extreme. Usingslightly lessformal languagewould help ease the transition.
Suggestion: It was so much fun! Now I understood why the nineteenth century Romantics wrote so much
about escapingfrom society in their poetry. For awhile,duringmy littleoutdoor adventure, I’d been ableto forget
the wearing social duties thatI owed to Abby, Kailey and Reanna and to be truly myself.

2. A Different Kind of Courage by Sarah Holman
Before you Begin
Historical fiction is always a bit daunting to write. There are always details, no matter
how long you research, that escape you. I have tried my best to present an accurate account of
many of the events of 1774 and 1775, although a few minor details have been changed to better
fit the story.
Historical characters are even harder to capture than events. I have spent hours poring
over the letters of Dr. Joseph Warren, John and Abigail Adams, and others, as well as reading
accounts of their lives. I have made every effort to present them as best I could.
Any and all errors are my own.
If you would like to read more of the history behind the fiction, or have a list of my
source material, you can visit www.adifferentkindofcourage.blogspot.com

3. Prologue
I mourn over my bleeding country… I weep at her distress, and with them deeply
resent the many injuries she has received from the hands of cruel and unreasonable
men ~ Dr. Joseph Warren
March 5, 1770
Darkness cloaked Boston as surely as fear gripped my heart. My lungs burned as the
cold, salty air filled them, but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t know how long I had, but I knew that my
time was limited. I ignored the clanging of bells. As an able bodied man, I should have rushed to
see what was wrong, but tonight was not like most nights. Tonight, my only thought was to get
to Doctor Warren’s house, fast.
I was out of breath when I finally reached his house on Hanover Street. I pounded at the
door, letting my fear release itself on the rough wood. “Doctor Warren!” I pounded. “Joseph!” I
called for my friend. I continued to pound until the door swung inward, nearly sending me
toppling.
“William, what is it?” Joseph opened the door wide.
“It’s mother and my sister-in-law. I think…” I swallowed my fears. I didn’t dare speak
the words. Mother was the only one who understood me. Father wanted me to be just like him,
but Mother had loved me for just who I was. The thought of losing her was too much to say
aloud.
“I’m coming.” Joseph’s words were as comforting as his calm presence. He rushed back
inside and came back with his coat and bag. Closing the door, he started down the street, not
slowing his pace as he wiggled into his jacket against the frigid air.
“Mother can’t stop coughing,” I choked, wishing the bells would stop clanging. The look
on mother’s face as she struggled to breathe and her lips, turning blue from more than cold, had
terrified me. My brother’s wife, Tabitha, did not look much better.
Joseph placed his hand on my arm as we hurried down the street, his warmth seeping
through my sleeve. “It will be all right.”

4. I concentrated on picking up my pace. I knew that Joseph meant well, but he hadn’t seen
my mother. He hadn’t seen her pale face and blue lips. He hadn’t heard the constant hacking in
our house as my mother and Tabitha had fought against this illness.
Musket fire grabbed our attention. Screams and terrified shouting greeted our ears and
still the bells clanged on.
“What is happening?” I asked.
Joseph shook his head. “I don’t know. Nothing good, though. Come, we must get to your
mother.” His feet continued toward my home, but his eyes searched the direction of the musket
fire. The moment we reached my door, he turned his full attention toward the house.
I knew something was horribly wrong the moment we entered. I could tell that the mood
had changed. I heard someone crying. “Mother?” I breathed.
Without waiting for an invitation, Joseph bounded up the stairs to the living quarters. He
had been here often and knew the way. My father met me at the top of the stairs. “Tabitha is
dead.”
My heart stopped? “Mother?”
My father shook his head. “She is not well. I think she will join Tabitha soon.”
I shoved passed him and entered my mother’s room, Joseph following after me. She
looked even worse than when I had left her to get Joseph. She lay against the sheets; each breath
seemed to be an agonizing struggle.
“Mama! Mama!” It was my niece in the hallway.
I looked between my mother and the door.
“Go see to your niece.” This was a gentle command from Joseph.
I reluctantly did as he asked. I went into the hallway, finding my niece beating her tiny
fists on the door to her mother’s room. “Mama! Mama!”
“Katherine?” I spoke my niece’s name hoarsely.
“Uncle William?” She looked up at me with her wide eyes, and then she threw herself at
me.
I knelt down and pulled the girl, only four years old, into my arms. “It will be all right,
Katherine.”
“Mama’s gone.” She sobbed.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to hold back my own tears. “I know, Princess. I know.”
The soft closing of a door made me look up. Joseph stood there, moisture in his own eyes