Genre Fiction
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Sunflower Sisters: A Novel (Woolsey-Ferriday)
NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • Martha Hall Kelly's million-copy bestseller Lilac Girls introduced readers to Caroline Ferriday. Now, in Sunflower Sisters, Kelly tells the story of Ferriday's ancestor Georgeanna Woolsey, a Union nurse during the Civil War whose calling leads her to cross paths with Jemma, a young enslaved girl who is sold off and conscripted into the army, and Anne-May Wilson, a Southern plantation mistress whose husband enlists.
"An exquisite tapestry of women determined to defy the molds the world has for them."-Lisa Wingate, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Before We Were Yours
Georgeanna "Georgey" Woolsey isn't meant for the world of lavish parties and the demure attitudes of women of her stature. So when war ignites the nation, Georgey follows her passion for nursing during a time when doctors considered women on the battlefront a bother. In proving them wrong, she and her sister Eliza venture from New York to Washington, D.C., to Gettysburg and witness the unparalleled horrors of slavery as they become involved in the war effort.
In the South, Jemma is enslaved on the Peeler Plantation in Maryland, where she lives with her mother and father. Her sister, Patience, is enslaved on the plantation next door, and both live in fear of LeBaron, an abusive overseer who tracks their every move. When Jemma is sold by the cruel plantation mistress Anne-May at the same time the Union army comes through, she sees a chance to finally escape-but only by abandoning the family she loves.
Anne-May is left behind to run Peeler Plantation when her husband joins the Union army and her cherished brother enlists with the Confederates. In charge of the household, she uses the opportunity to follow her own ambitions and is drawn into a secret Southern network of spies, finally exposing herself to the fate she deserves.
Inspired by true accounts, Sunflower Sisters provides a vivid, detailed look at the Civil War experience, from the barbaric and inhumane plantations, to a war-torn New York City, to the horrors of the battlefield. It's a sweeping story of women caught in a country on the brink of collapse, in a society grappling with nationalism and unthinkable racial cruelty, a story still so relevant today.
"An exquisite tapestry of women determined to defy the molds the world has for them."-Lisa Wingate, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Before We Were Yours
Georgeanna "Georgey" Woolsey isn't meant for the world of lavish parties and the demure attitudes of women of her stature. So when war ignites the nation, Georgey follows her passion for nursing during a time when doctors considered women on the battlefront a bother. In proving them wrong, she and her sister Eliza venture from New York to Washington, D.C., to Gettysburg and witness the unparalleled horrors of slavery as they become involved in the war effort.
In the South, Jemma is enslaved on the Peeler Plantation in Maryland, where she lives with her mother and father. Her sister, Patience, is enslaved on the plantation next door, and both live in fear of LeBaron, an abusive overseer who tracks their every move. When Jemma is sold by the cruel plantation mistress Anne-May at the same time the Union army comes through, she sees a chance to finally escape-but only by abandoning the family she loves.
Anne-May is left behind to run Peeler Plantation when her husband joins the Union army and her cherished brother enlists with the Confederates. In charge of the household, she uses the opportunity to follow her own ambitions and is drawn into a secret Southern network of spies, finally exposing herself to the fate she deserves.
Inspired by true accounts, Sunflower Sisters provides a vivid, detailed look at the Civil War experience, from the barbaric and inhumane plantations, to a war-torn New York City, to the horrors of the battlefield. It's a sweeping story of women caught in a country on the brink of collapse, in a society grappling with nationalism and unthinkable racial cruelty, a story still so relevant today.
Editorial Reviews
"A beautifully written, intricately researched window into the lives of women in a world we can scarcely imagine today . . . Sunflower Sisters took me on a journey that swept me up in its pages and left me pondering deeper truths in the end. It's a read filled with sisterhood, risk, reward, and plenty of fodder for book clubs."-Entertainment Weekly
"Kelly's prose flows beautifully across every page, bringing to life the women impacted by the horrific war that tore apart the country and countless families. . . . Much of Sunflower Sisters is heartbreaking . . . but there is also much hope and joy in the courage, fortitude and victories of those courageous and determined to succeed and survive."-Fredericksburg Free Lance-Star
"A well-researched, realistic narrative . . . It's the women and their activism that tell the story of the struggle to end slavery. They become the real heroes of the war. Kelly tells this story without either romanticizing or sweeping over the horrors that split the nation in the nineteenth century and continues to do so today."-The Spokesman-Review
"From Southern spies to nurses on the northern battlefields, Sunflower Sisters weaves an exquisite tapestry of women determined to defy the molds the world has for them. The journeys of Jemma and the Woolsey sisters will have readers celebrating those who came before us, who fought for what they knew was right, and became timeless women ahead of their times."-Lisa Wingate, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Before We Were Yours and The Book of Lost Friends
"Sunflower Sisters marks the third installment of Martha Hall Kelly's tales of the formidable Woolsey Women, with this chapter unfolding across the plantations, battlefields, and parlor rooms of one of history's most dramatic moments. The Civil War roils as a sweeping backdrop and an era of both heartbreaking and inspiring humanity. Kelly's vivid prose, stunning historical research, and heartfelt, compelling characters make this a gripping, page-turning read."-Allison Pataki, New York Times bestselling author of The Queen's Fortune
"Vibrant . . . The vivid, impeccably researched saga briskly sweeps across war-torn battlefields, New York City, and Southern plantations, highlighting the struggles endured by her women characters. This page-turning work is sure to please Kelly's fans."-Publishers Weekly
"Kelly weaves a far-ranging tale of interlocking destinies and moving displays of kindness and bravery. . . . This emotionally satisfying novel will please Kelly's many fans and will be a strong addition to historical fiction collections."-Library Journal
"Kelly's prose flows beautifully across every page, bringing to life the women impacted by the horrific war that tore apart the country and countless families. . . . Much of Sunflower Sisters is heartbreaking . . . but there is also much hope and joy in the courage, fortitude and victories of those courageous and determined to succeed and survive."-Fredericksburg Free Lance-Star
"A well-researched, realistic narrative . . . It's the women and their activism that tell the story of the struggle to end slavery. They become the real heroes of the war. Kelly tells this story without either romanticizing or sweeping over the horrors that split the nation in the nineteenth century and continues to do so today."-The Spokesman-Review
"From Southern spies to nurses on the northern battlefields, Sunflower Sisters weaves an exquisite tapestry of women determined to defy the molds the world has for them. The journeys of Jemma and the Woolsey sisters will have readers celebrating those who came before us, who fought for what they knew was right, and became timeless women ahead of their times."-Lisa Wingate, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Before We Were Yours and The Book of Lost Friends
"Sunflower Sisters marks the third installment of Martha Hall Kelly's tales of the formidable Woolsey Women, with this chapter unfolding across the plantations, battlefields, and parlor rooms of one of history's most dramatic moments. The Civil War roils as a sweeping backdrop and an era of both heartbreaking and inspiring humanity. Kelly's vivid prose, stunning historical research, and heartfelt, compelling characters make this a gripping, page-turning read."-Allison Pataki, New York Times bestselling author of The Queen's Fortune
"Vibrant . . . The vivid, impeccably researched saga briskly sweeps across war-torn battlefields, New York City, and Southern plantations, highlighting the struggles endured by her women characters. This page-turning work is sure to please Kelly's fans."-Publishers Weekly
"Kelly weaves a far-ranging tale of interlocking destinies and moving displays of kindness and bravery. . . . This emotionally satisfying novel will please Kelly's many fans and will be a strong addition to historical fiction collections."-Library Journal
Readers Top Reviews
Geraldine Purdy
I had previously read The Lilac Girls and Lost Rose's and I loved them. This author has written in reverse to other authors. She has gone further back in history with each novel. She has kept the thread of dedicated women, striving to help at all costs. These are works of fiction inspired by history. Martha Hall Kelly is an author whose books you should definitely read.
amiller
Wow! What an incredible story! The alternating POV gave the story such a multi-leveled richness, and really gave it a completeness that I often find lacking in historical fiction. Of the three novels in this series, I didn’t think one could top Lilac Girls, but this was just as good if not better. The author is, in my opinion, a master at historical fiction, and I will read anything she writes. She’s a phenomenal researcher, and gifted story teller.
jam
The Civil War role of women was fascinating. Georgeanna Woolsey bravely cared for wounded soldiers and pioneered the advent of women in nursing. Official nurses, like doctors, were usually male. The experience of the slave girl was dreadful. She escaped her cruel owner by escaping to the Union Army. The heroine is based on an historic character and her difficult experiences.
Stace
The final installment of the Ferriday/Woolsey trilogy. This book follows George Woolsey, an abolitionist, Jemma, an enslaved girl, and Anne May, Jemma’s owner. The book is set throughout the years of the Civil War. Their stories intertwine with one another throughout the book. The characters are all very realistic and you feel like you really are a part of their lives. I was so thrilled when I got an ARC of this book. I have read her other two books in this series and was so excited to learn there was another one in the series. I really didn’t think I would get an ARC of this book, so basically when I did, I read it right away. Her characters really do come alive. I found myself hating characters and wishing things upon them, but at the same time loving characters and looking forward to their character growth. Martha Hall Kelly is an amazing writer and I can’t wait to see what she writes next. I am so sad this trilogy is over. I would love to read another book about the Woolsey sisters because Kelly has made them seem so interesting and amazing. I really wish Jemma was a real person because she sounds amazing as well and I wish someone else’s story had ended like hers in real life. If anyone deserved anything and everything it was her. It is clear this book was well researched and Kelly did her homework on the Civil War and the treatment of slaves. I also thought it was interesting to set the plantation and the slavery in Maryland since it was a border state and didn’t actually leave the Union. Very well done book and highly recommended. I will definitely be buying this book when it comes out to finish my collection. Thank you NetGalley, Martha Hall Kelly and Random House Publishing for the ARC in an exchange for an honest review. I did buy it and still stand by this review!
Kpat
What an amazing story! I am going to have a book hangover for days. Sunflower Sisters is a wonderful ending to the Caroline Ferriday trilogy. Georgeanne “Georgey” Woolsey is Caroline Ferriday’s great aunt. The story is told through her eyes, along with two other narrators. Anne-May Wilson, who has inherited a plantation in Maryland, and Jenna, A slave on the plantation. Much of the story is based on Woolsey letters and research about the Civil War. Martha Hall Kelly allowed me to feel so many emotions while reading. Jenna and Ann-May are fictional characters. The story starts in 1961 and ends at the end of the war. Georgey is one of eight children (7 girls and 1 boy). We follow her efforts as she travels to several field hospitals at the start of the war with her sister, I definitely felt like I was an eyewitness to what it was like. The reader definitely sees life as a slave through Jenna’s eyes and definite hatred toward Anne-May. The story has many minor characters who are fictional and non-fictional. I really enjoyed reading about the extensive research Martha Hall Kelly did at the end of the book. Make sure you read this section. My thanks to Random House Ballantine and NetGalley for an ARC of this book. The opinions in this review are my own.
Short Excerpt Teaser
Chapter 1
Mary Woolsey
Charleston, South Carolina
1859
No one suspected the blond boy's cargo as he drove his crude pony cart through the streets of Charleston.
Mother, my younger sister Georgy, and I had come to South Carolina by the invitation of Pastor Cox at the African Free Church for a two-day stay. We'd stepped out the previous morning past the mansion houses and palmetto trees, the atmosphere so gentle and refined, to make our daily calls and leave Mother's ecru cards on the silver trays.
Mrs. Charles Woolsey, 8 Brevoort Place, New York City.
Certainly nothing forced itself unpleasantly on our attention, but every black face in the street or greeting us so kindly at a front door reminded us of the system of slavery so robust there and strengthened our resolve to continue the fight.
Upon our walk home from Sunday services, the scent of crape myrtle in the air, a boy driving a pony cart drew up beside us dressed in a clean white shirt and homespun trousers. His rear wheel in disrepair, it bumped with every rotation, keeping his rate of speed not much greater than ours.
"We find ourselves a bit lost," Mother called to the boy. "Can you guide us to the Charleston Hotel?"
"I'm going that way, ma'am. Will point you there."
I warmed to his southern accent, a good-natured boy, milk-skinned, twelve years old or so, yellow hair shining in the sun. That brought to mind my own towheaded daughters, left back at the hotel with our friend Mrs. Wolcott, who no doubt stood near the door waiting for my return. Though we'd been gone less than two hours I missed them terribly as well.
"Where do you live?" Mother asked the boy.
"Here and there." He set his face toward the sun. "You? Sound like a Virginian."
Mother smiled happy when someone recognized her accent from her former home. "Indeed I am. Left there when I was a girl but suppose I still speak with a trace of it. Live in New York City now. We are here as the guests of Pastor Cox at the African church. Do you know him?"
"No, ma'am."
We walked along, the only sound the thump of the broken wheel.
"It was a lovely celebration of the Eucharist," Mother said. "Over three hundred celebrants."
He turned and smiled. "Bet you was the only white folks there."
"Yes. But we were welcomed quite enthusiastically."
"Once, my ma had me in church every Sunday. She's dead now."
The boy pulled a piece of bread from a tin lunch bucket at his feet, took one bite, turned and slipped the rest under the tarp.
"Do you attend school?" Mother asked.
"No, ma'am. No school'd take the likes of me."
"I doubt that very much," Georgy said.
My attention was drawn to the back bed of the cart and the slightest movement beneath the tarp there.
"Where are you headed?" I asked.
He pointed to a white building up ahead. "The mart. Go every Sunday. Make my rounds on Saturday, come here the next day, so my stock's fresh."
"Rounds where?"
"All over, ma'am. Pa's regulars. Hardly ever come empty-handed."
The boy rode toward a white building with high black gates at the entrance and we followed. It was a hulking place, the word mart shining in gilt above the entrance, a crimson flag flapping in the breeze.
The boy pointed at a roof off in the distance. "Your hotel's up the road a piece and hang a right."
"You've been terribly helpful," Mother said.
The boy rode to the iron gates and a stout, red-bearded man, bamboo cane in hand, swung open the gate door.
"Hey, boy," he said, rapping his cane on the wood of the cart. "You're supposed to come round back with these, not to the front door, for pity's sake."
"Pa needs me home."
The boy turned in his seat up front and flung back the tarp. There within lay three colored children of varying ages, each dressed only in the crudest cloth diaper. The oldest, perhaps nine months old, held on to the cart edge and pulled herself up to standing.
"My God," I said.
The child reached her arms up to me in the universal baby language of love and goodness and I lifted her from the cart. I held her close and breathed in her heavenly baby scent, of milk and soap and innocence. Someone had taken loving care of her.
Upon the cart floor two infants lay upon the crude boards, one not more than a few days old.
The boy handed the gatekeeper a folded paper.
"Where are their mothers?" I asked, shaken through. "They've not a blanket among them. When did they last eat?"
The gatekeeper read the paper and then stepped to the cart. "All girls? Supposed to be one boy."
"Take it up with Pa," the boy said.
The gat...
Mary Woolsey
Charleston, South Carolina
1859
No one suspected the blond boy's cargo as he drove his crude pony cart through the streets of Charleston.
Mother, my younger sister Georgy, and I had come to South Carolina by the invitation of Pastor Cox at the African Free Church for a two-day stay. We'd stepped out the previous morning past the mansion houses and palmetto trees, the atmosphere so gentle and refined, to make our daily calls and leave Mother's ecru cards on the silver trays.
Mrs. Charles Woolsey, 8 Brevoort Place, New York City.
Certainly nothing forced itself unpleasantly on our attention, but every black face in the street or greeting us so kindly at a front door reminded us of the system of slavery so robust there and strengthened our resolve to continue the fight.
Upon our walk home from Sunday services, the scent of crape myrtle in the air, a boy driving a pony cart drew up beside us dressed in a clean white shirt and homespun trousers. His rear wheel in disrepair, it bumped with every rotation, keeping his rate of speed not much greater than ours.
"We find ourselves a bit lost," Mother called to the boy. "Can you guide us to the Charleston Hotel?"
"I'm going that way, ma'am. Will point you there."
I warmed to his southern accent, a good-natured boy, milk-skinned, twelve years old or so, yellow hair shining in the sun. That brought to mind my own towheaded daughters, left back at the hotel with our friend Mrs. Wolcott, who no doubt stood near the door waiting for my return. Though we'd been gone less than two hours I missed them terribly as well.
"Where do you live?" Mother asked the boy.
"Here and there." He set his face toward the sun. "You? Sound like a Virginian."
Mother smiled happy when someone recognized her accent from her former home. "Indeed I am. Left there when I was a girl but suppose I still speak with a trace of it. Live in New York City now. We are here as the guests of Pastor Cox at the African church. Do you know him?"
"No, ma'am."
We walked along, the only sound the thump of the broken wheel.
"It was a lovely celebration of the Eucharist," Mother said. "Over three hundred celebrants."
He turned and smiled. "Bet you was the only white folks there."
"Yes. But we were welcomed quite enthusiastically."
"Once, my ma had me in church every Sunday. She's dead now."
The boy pulled a piece of bread from a tin lunch bucket at his feet, took one bite, turned and slipped the rest under the tarp.
"Do you attend school?" Mother asked.
"No, ma'am. No school'd take the likes of me."
"I doubt that very much," Georgy said.
My attention was drawn to the back bed of the cart and the slightest movement beneath the tarp there.
"Where are you headed?" I asked.
He pointed to a white building up ahead. "The mart. Go every Sunday. Make my rounds on Saturday, come here the next day, so my stock's fresh."
"Rounds where?"
"All over, ma'am. Pa's regulars. Hardly ever come empty-handed."
The boy rode toward a white building with high black gates at the entrance and we followed. It was a hulking place, the word mart shining in gilt above the entrance, a crimson flag flapping in the breeze.
The boy pointed at a roof off in the distance. "Your hotel's up the road a piece and hang a right."
"You've been terribly helpful," Mother said.
The boy rode to the iron gates and a stout, red-bearded man, bamboo cane in hand, swung open the gate door.
"Hey, boy," he said, rapping his cane on the wood of the cart. "You're supposed to come round back with these, not to the front door, for pity's sake."
"Pa needs me home."
The boy turned in his seat up front and flung back the tarp. There within lay three colored children of varying ages, each dressed only in the crudest cloth diaper. The oldest, perhaps nine months old, held on to the cart edge and pulled herself up to standing.
"My God," I said.
The child reached her arms up to me in the universal baby language of love and goodness and I lifted her from the cart. I held her close and breathed in her heavenly baby scent, of milk and soap and innocence. Someone had taken loving care of her.
Upon the cart floor two infants lay upon the crude boards, one not more than a few days old.
The boy handed the gatekeeper a folded paper.
"Where are their mothers?" I asked, shaken through. "They've not a blanket among them. When did they last eat?"
The gatekeeper read the paper and then stepped to the cart. "All girls? Supposed to be one boy."
"Take it up with Pa," the boy said.
The gat...
