Stanford Rome and Shelley Lester were boyhood best friends growing up in Twofer County, South Georgia. As men, they went their separate ways but stayed in touch. Now, both live in Atlanta. Stanford Rome is managing partner of his top-notch Certified Public Accounting firm of Rome, Kelsey, and Lang, CPAs. Shelley Lester is a decorated war hero, who refused to accept the Medal of Honor for “killing colored people for my country.” Now, he’s a strong-arm working exclusively for the governor. He also patrols the mean streets of Atlanta, where it’s rumored that Shelley has disappeared just as many killers and murderers during the peace in Atlanta as he killed enemy soldiers during the war in Vietnam. Four months earlier, Stanford’s wife and son were murdered in Twofer County. Despite enormous pressure from the governor and other political elites, the many investigations have stalled and wound down to one skeleton crew. But Shelley keeps doggedly hunting clues into the murders of Stanford’s wife and son—his godson. Stanford, guilt-ridden with numbing sadness, takes a leave of absence from his CPA firm to do his own investigation, if only to keep the peace with himself. Meanwhile, two women roll out battle plans to wage war on Stanford and his peace. Her name is Candice Bergens, and she’s a sniper for hire. She owns a “Styles by Candy” beauty salon in each of the eleven cities where she’s killed a man. Now she has a contract on Stanford and will kill him with her bullets and her gun. Her name is Jocelyn Slade, and she’s a WTNT-TV News evening anchor; the “darling of Atlanta’s airwaves”. She has a crush on Stanford and wants to seduce him with her sex and her charm. Jocelyn’s intelligence is matched only by her ruthlessness—and her beauty. She’s as great a danger to Stanford as the sniper. And then there’s the larger-than-life QueenBee, watching patiently, allowing law enforcement to do its thing. The law failed. Now she will do her thing. QueenBee is South Georgia royalty, the matriarch of Twofer County, and Stanford’s grandmother. QueenBee knows something about the murders no one else knows. She will find the mastermind of the murders and fetch him to Twofer County to face her kangaroo court and her brand of South Georgia payback disguised as justice. Her vengeful search starts in Chicago 800 miles away, and her search ends in the deep backwoods of Twofer County where a small plane crashed and burned--35 years ago. The characters are up to their necks in this story of unrequited love and unrequited hate, of self-deception and deceit, of bald-faced lies and half-truths, and most of all, of blind loyalty and misplaced trust. And lurking in the shadows is Frank, tiptoeing along that thin line between Jazz and South Georgia Blues.

The Rome Double-murder remains unsolved after four months. The local police, the state police and the FBI have quit the case. But Stanford Rome the husband and father of the murdered pair, takes the hunt a second time. Meanwhile he's stalked by two women--One wants to love him ; one wants to kill him. That's one story. However there is a story behind the story. The charcters are up to their necks in mystery, and lurking in the shadows is Frank.

In her debut poetry collection, Jasmine Elizabeth Smith takes inspiration from Oklahoma Black history. In the wake of the Tulsa Race Massacre of 1921, Jim Waters makes the difficult decision to leave behind his lover, Beatrice Vernadene Chapel, who as a Black woman must navigate the dangerous climate that produced the Jim Crow South and Red Summer. As Beatrice and Jim write letters to one another and hold imagined conversations with blues musicians Ida B. Cox, Robert Johnson, Charlie Patton, Ethel Waters, and the ghosts of Greenwood, the couple interrogates themes of blues epistemology, Black feminism, fraught attachments, and the way in which Black Americans have often changed their geographical regions with the hope of improving their conditions. The poetry collection South Flight is a eulogy, a blues, an unabashed love letter, and ragtime to the history of resistance, migration, and community in Black Oklahoma.

Making it in Hell, says Bruce Jackson, is the spirit behind the sixty-five work songs gathered in this eloquent dispatch from a brutal era of prison life in the Deep South. Through engagingly documented song arrangements and profiles of their singers, Jackson shows how such pieces as "Hammer Ring," "Ration Blues," "Yellow Gal," and "Jody's Got My Wife and Gone" are like no other folk music forms: they are distinctly African in heritage, diminished in power and meaning outside their prison context, and used exclusively by black convicts. The songs helped workers through the rigors of cane cutting, logging, and cotton picking. Perhaps most important, they helped resolve the men's hopes and longings and allowed them a subtle outlet for grievances they could never voice when face-to-face with their jailers.

This extensively illustrated book is the only comprehensive account of the island of South Georgia.

This story of the origins and evolution of the American blues tradition draws on oral history interviews and research into neglected primary sources. Book jacket.

The Carrs share their exploration of the Antarctic region and South Georgian coast aboard their yacht as they document and photograph polar wildlife and landscape

"In the late twentieth century, residents of the Blue Ridge mountains in western North Carolina fiercely resisted certain environmental efforts, even while launching aggressive initiatives of their own. Kathryn Newfont provides context for those events by examining the environmental history of this region over the course of three hundred years, identifying what she calls commons environmentalism--a cultural strain of conservation in American history that has gone largely unexplored. Efforts in the 1970s to expand federal wilderness areas in the Pisgah and Nantahala national forests generated strong opposition. For many mountain residents the idea of unspoiled wilderness seemed economically unsound, historically dishonest, and elitist. Newfont shows that local people's sense of commons environmentalism required access to the forests that they viewed as semipublic places for hunting, fishing, and working. Policies that removed large tracts from use were perceived as 'enclosure' and resisted. Incorporating deep archival work and years of interviews and conversations with Appalachian residents, Blue Ridge Commons reveals a tradition of people building robust forest protection movements on their own terms."--p. [4] of cover.

Also time tables of railroads in Central America. Air line schedules.