Abigail Trench
by Randy Overbeck
Book Blurb:
A vivid, propulsive Revolutionary-era thriller with the spy-craft verve of the streaming hit TURN: Washington’s Spies and the electricity of 1776’s New York that Hamilton lovers will recognize, this story is inspired by the lone female operative in Washington’s spy ring.
In occupied New York, a schoolteacher with everything to lose turns information into a weapon, threading between Redcoats and rebels as plots against Washington gather steam.
After rogue Redcoats assault her and strip her family’s Long Island farm, Abigail Trench fights to survive in New York City—tutoring in a high-ranking British officer’s Water Street household by day, navigating taverns, informants, and soldiers by night. Through Abigail’s keen eyes—and a counter-narrative following a principled British major—the novel renders the moral gray zones of occupation with gritty intimacy. As rumors swirl of a strike at General Washington, Abigail’s vantage inside upper-crust parlors and rough waterfront rooms makes her an ideal courier—and a target.
This historical thriller delivers high tension, textured world-building, and a captivating heroine who put it all on the line for freedom.
Excerpt:
When she came down Queen Street on the edge of Manhattan, she
spotted a small crowd gathering in front of a house—an unusual sight
lately. She’d noticed the house a few times on her trips to and from
the Monteiths’. It was a handsome two-story structure with white
clapboard siding and two chimneys, set back from the road, a small
open meadow between it and the other buildings. While nowhere near
as grand as the Hamptons’ mansion, this house stood out, far finer
than most homes in Manhattan. Its most noticeable feature was a long
porch running across the front. In the center sat two wooden chairs,
perfect for rocking and taking in the view of the city and harbor be-
yond. Some days, as she passed, she’d daydreamed about sitting in
those cozy chairs, rocking in the sunset.
Seeing the gaggle of people—locals, women and children, a few
older men, and two Negroes standing next to young toughs who were
likely dock workers—Abigail moved to cross the street. Exhausted, she
did not want to get caught up in whatever was happening. Halfway
across the dusty road, she heard a familiar voice.
“Respectfully, sir, this is a really bad idea.”
She recognized the bass tone of Major Parker Monteith, though
he kept his voice low. Her curiosity now greater than her fatigue, she
turned and headed toward the onlookers, stopping at the edge of the
group to get a better look.
Major Monteith said, “Sir, we only took control of the city a few
days ago. Is this how we want the locals to view us?”
Abigail’s gaze went from the Major to the house. On the porch, two
figures sat in those rocking chairs she coveted—a middle-aged man
and woman. No. She stared. The two were tied to the chairs, hands
and feet bound to the wood, and were guarded by a pair of Redcoats,
rifles at the ready.
On the walkway running along the street, a third soldier was paint-
ing two crude letters on the wood. As he finished and stood, Abigail
looked past him. She recognized R and C. A clang drew her attention
back to the structure. Two more soldiers, glass bottles in hand, banged
them against the siding. The men sloshed dark liquid onto the clap-
boards. When they finished, they dumped more onto the porch floor
and down the steps to the street.
The Major stood close to another man in uniform, a smaller, obese
officer whose large belly strained the silver buttons of his red great-
coat. As she stared at the second officer, she noticed a long blue feather
dangling from a coat button. A gust blew across the porch, making
the feather flutter—a delicate motion so out of place in the grim scene.
Abigail watched Monteith, posture stiff, sweep his gaze over the
crowd. He gestured toward the house. “Colonel Hollister, I suggest this
is far too drastic a measure,” he uttered through tight lips, obviously
struggling to keep his voice under control. “This will only enrage the
locals. It will give them more powder.”
“Nonsense,” the older officer bellowed.
Abigail supposed the man was Major Monteith’s superior. The
obese man turned and glanced at the crowd. Abigail caught bloodshot
brown eyes above a bulbous nose, a cigar dangling between puffy lips.
The fingers of one hand played with the feather, flipping it over and
over.
Pulling the cigar from his mouth, the man used it to point at the
house. “This will strike fear into their disloyal hearts. They’ll see what
happens to those who collaborate with the rebels.”
Abigail glanced again at the two sloppy letters painted in red on the
walkway. R. C. Rebel Collaborator.
Monteith asked, “Are we certain these two are collaborators?
Colonel Hollister, what about a trial? Isn’t that what English justice
calls for?”
“Trial! Huh!” The Colonel puffed on his cigar and pulled it out
again. “We caught these two red-handed. They were getting ready
to pass information to the rebels.” He stabbed the cigar toward the
Major. “Your troops, Monteith. Caught them trying to pass details on
troop placement to the damn rebels. You think we should allow that
to happen?”
“Of course not,” Monteith said. “But there has to be a better option
than this.”
“For these spies, this is precisely what they deserve,” the senior of-
ficer announced.
Abigail stared across at Major Parker Monteith. As if he could feel
her eyes on him, the Major met her gaze. Though he made no move at
first, Monteith’s eyes seemed to acknowledge her, his face a mask of
disgrace. He shook his head slowly, his gaze shifting from his superior
to the house, then finally back to Abigail. He took a few quick steps
and stopped next to her.
“Miss Trench, this is not something you will want to see.” His head
jerked back toward the prisoners. “This is not fit for a young woman
to witness.”
Abigail looked at Monteith, then nodded past him to the activity on
the porch. “No one should witness this. I certainly don’t want to,” she
said, steel in her voice. “But if British soldiers are going to commit such
a heinous act, someone needs to witness it.”
“War is ugly.” He shifted his feet, glancing back toward the house.
“This is not my idea of war, but I am not in charge.”
The fat Colonel hollered, “Are you two about finished?” Abigail
turned to see the portly man gesture at the soldiers pouring liquid on
the house.
Shaking his head, Monteith retraced his steps and returned to his
position flanking the structure.
Hollister harrumphed. “Hurry up. I have a supper to get to. I understand the cook is preparing lamb for tonight.” He puffed one more time on the cigar. Indicating the two sentries standing behind the prisoners, he bellowed, “All right, you two men, better get off there.”
Relief flooding their faces, the two Redcoats scurried off the porch.
The brown liquid oozed down the walls and onto the floorboards. More of it lay in ugly pools on the wooden steps. Abigail swept her gaze from the officer holding the burning cigar to the porch drenched In fluid. A breeze carried a familiar, fishy odor from the house. It hit her—whale oil. The same oil used to light lamps at night. This British officer, this Colonel, was going to execute these two right here, in plain daylight. No, not merely execute them. He was going to torture them. Burn them. A modern version of burning at the stake. And Major Monteith was simply going to watch?
Author Bio:
Dr. Randy Overbeck is an award-winning educator, bestselling author, popular podcaster and speaker in much demand. After serving children for almost four decades as teacher, college prof and school leader, he used those experiences and skills to craft captivating mysteries, thrillers and historical suspense. His novels have earned more than a dozen national awards including Thriller of the Year, Best Book Award, the Gold Award and Mystery of the Year and have garnered hundreds of five-star reviews on Amazon, Goodreads and BookBub.
His newest novel, ABIGAIL TRENCH, is a historical suspense about the Revolutionary War, released June, 2026 by Diversion Books and distributed by Simon and Schuster.
Dr. Overbeck is also the host of the popular podcast, Great Stories about Great Storytellers, which reveals the little known backstories of famous authors, directors and poets and ranks among the top 50% of all podcasts in the US. When he is not writing or podcasting, he is in much demand as a speaker, sharing informative and entertaining programs to more than 300 groups all over the country.
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