Publisher Description

*Instant New York Times Bestseller*

The Davenports delivers a totally escapist, swoon-worthy romance while offering a glimpse into a period of African American history often overlooked.

"The perfect read for fans of escapist historical fiction." —NBC's TODAY

The Davenports are one of the few Black families of immense wealth and status in a changing United States, their fortune made through the entrepreneurship of William Davenport, a formerly enslaved man who founded the Davenport Carriage Company years ago. Now it's 1910, and the Davenports live surrounded by servants, crystal chandeliers, and endless parties, finding their way and finding love—even where they're not supposed to.

There is Olivia, the beautiful elder Davenport daughter, ready to do her duty by getting married . . . until she meets the charismatic civil rights leader Washington DeWight and sparks fly. The younger daughter, Helen, is more interested in fixing cars than falling in love—unless it's with her sister's suitor. Amy-Rose, the childhood friend turned maid to the Davenport sisters, dreams of opening her own business—and marrying the one man she could never be with, Olivia and Helen's brother, John. But Olivia's best friend, Ruby, also has her sights set on John Davenport, though she can't seem to keep his interest . . . until family pressure has her scheming to win his heart, just as someone else wins hers.

Inspired by the real-life story of the Patterson family, The Davenports is the tale of four determined and passionate young Black women discovering the courage to steer their own path in life—and love.

"The Davenports has it all: romance, heartbreak, courage." —Ebony
"A fresh, utterly enchanting read." —Ayana Gray, New York Times bestselling author of the Beasts of Prey trilogy
"Deftly written . . . A dazzling debut." —Kirkus (starred review)
"Stunningly wrought . . . Presents a cast of take-charge women." —PW (starred review)
"It has the compulsive readability of Gossip Girl." —Booklist (starred review)
"Compelling . . . distinct and satisfying." —BCCB
"Skilled . . . Well-written . . . Sure to please." —SLJ
"If this whole series existed right now, I'd tear through it to the exclusion of everything else in my life." —Teen Librarian Toolbox

Author Biography

Krystal Marquis happily spends most of her time in libraries and used bookstores. She studied biology at Boston College and University of Connecticut and now works as an environmental, health, and safety manager for an online retailer. A lifelong reader, Krystal began researching and writing on a dare to complete the NaNoWriMo Challenge, resulting in the first partial draft of The Davenports. When not writing or planning trips to the Book Barn to discover her next favorite romance, Krystal enjoys hiking, expanding her shoe collection, and plotting ways to create her own Jurassic Park.

Review

Instant New York Times Bestseller
#1 Indie Next Pick
Heartland Booksellers Award Winner
AAMBC Award Winner
Indies Introduce Featured Title
A Kirkus Reviews Best Book of the Year

"The Davenports by Krystal Marquis is the perfect read for fans of escapist historical fiction. We're talking romantic period pieces, lush with hunky suitors, lavish balls and endless love triangles. This Bridgerton-style book documents the Davenport sisters' mistrials as they navigate the ever-complex world of love." —NBC's TODAY

"The Davenports has it all: romance, heartbreak, courage . . . What makes [it] so intriguing is that it's inspired by the real daughters of automobile magnate C.R. Patterson. Marquis' extensive research allows readers to dive into the world of Black excellence in the 1900s, from its grand estates to the glamorous ball gowns." —Ebony

"With dazzling prose and whip-smart pacing, Krystal Marquis's gorgeous debut spirits readers into a world of polished glamor, but also a world shadowed by painful reckonings. Through trial, defeat, defiance, and triumph, its characters offer heart and perspective. The Davenports is a fresh, utterly enchanting read, and a much-needed addition to the contemporary canon of Black literature." —Ayana Gray, New York Times bestselling author of the Beasts of Prey trilogy

… "This deftly written series opener examines the lives of Black elites following Reconstruction with a focus on the constraints of women. The strong characterization, developed through alternating third-person perspectives, and descriptive setting lure readers in. A dazzling debut." —Kirkus (starred review)

… "This stunningly wrought historical fiction debut follows a group of Black teens navigating classism, familial expectations, gender norms, and racism in 1910 Chicago. . . . Marquis perceptively explores the history and momentous impact of Black achievements and wealth during an underreported period in U.S. history. Employing expert characterization and complex dynamics, the author presents a cast of take-charge women, undeterred by their struggles and pursuing their passions regardless of expectations." —Publishers Weekly (starred review)

… "Though it has the compulsive readability of Gossip Girl, this debut was inspired by the true, little-known history of the C.R. Patterson & Sons carriage company. As a forgotten history, as a celebration of Black entrepreneurship, and as a tale of ambitious young women forging their own paths, it should be widely shared." —Booklist (starred review)

"Marquis weaves the characters' stories in such a way that leaves readers anticipating the next chapter each time [and] the author's skilled descriptions give readers a real connection to the characters. This is a well-written novel, sure to please fans of historical fiction, romance, and Chicago history. Young adults and adults alike will learn from and enjoy this. Recommended." —SLJ

"Each girl brings a compelling arc to this series opener, and debut author Marquis crafts the rich setting with intriguing historical details and explorations of lesser-known Black history in the grand tradition of romance novelist Beverly Jenkins. . . . The distinct and satisfying emotional journeys of the four protagonists are wonderful [and] the book ends on a cliffhanger for the Davenport siblings, giving fans of historical fiction, and particularly those looking for Black representation without trauma, something to look forward to." —BCCB

"I loved this book . . . It's all SO GOOD. And yes, it's a lot about romance, which is great, but it's also about so much more. [It's about] wealthy Black families in the early 1900s and seeing their stories, as they navigate spaces not necessarily welcoming to them, while building their own businesses, communities, and networks . . . The characters are all well-developed, leading rich, complicated lives . . . If this whole series existed right now, I'd tear through it to the exclusion of everything else in my life. An excellent debut about challenging expectations and finding your own path." —Teen Librarian Toolbox

Review Quote

"With dazzling prose and whip-smart pacing, Krystal Marquis's gorgeous debut spirits readers into a world of polished glamor, but also a world shadowed by painful reckonings. Through trial, defeat, defiance, and triumph, its characters offer heart and perspective. The Davenports is a fresh, utterly enchanting read, and a much-needed addition to the contemporary canon of Black literature." --Ayana Gray, New York Times bestselling author of the Beasts of Prey trilogy

Excerpt from Book

Chapter 1 Olivia Olivia Elise Davenport pulled a bolt of vibrant yellow silk from the display and held it to her dark complexion. She was drawn to the bright fabric nearly hidden behind the muted pastels, a shock of sunshine peeking through the clouds, and wondered if it was too bright for so early in the season. In her free hand, she held a sample of beaded lace and tried to imagine the sound it would make whispering around her ankles while she danced. There will be a lot of dancing , she thought. Anticipation bubbled in her chest. The season of ball gowns and champagne had arrived at the conclusion of the Easter celebrations. Now that Olivia was out in society, it was time for her to find a husband. It was her second season, and she was ready. Ready to do her duty and make her parents proud, as she''d always done. The only problem? It was difficult to find eligible gentlemen--born into the right family, educated, and set to inherit a large fortune--who were also Black. Olivia took a deep breath. The yellow silk fell from her arm. She knew what her mother would say: It was too loud. Besides, she''d only come here to pick up a few finished alterations. "May I help you?" Olivia started at the voice over her shoulder. A shop attendant stood next to her with her hands clasped. Despite the smile on her face, her cold blue eyes betrayed a different intent. "I was just admiring the fabric selection." Olivia turned toward the display of broad-brimmed hats, ignoring the eyes of the shop girl digging into her back. "And waiting for my friend," she added. Where is Ruby, anyway? It was her best friend who insisted they send the servants ahead with their parcels and browse Marshall Field''s unaccompanied. And now she was nowhere to be found. The shop girl cleared her throat. "You may pick up your mistress''s orders at the service desk. I could direct you, if you''ve lost your way." "I know where the service desk is, thank you," Olivia said with a tight smile, ignoring the slight. All around them, pale faces watched the exchange with increasing curiosity. Someone behind her chuckled. She remembered her mother''s words: to always rise above. Because her family was rare. Wealthy. Beautiful. Black . Ruby wore her wealth like armor, usually in the form of jewels and furs. Olivia preferred the understated air she observed in her mother. Today, those perfect manners didn''t matter. Her beauty was no shield. All the young girl before her could see was the color of Olivia''s skin. She stiffened her spine, pulling herself to her full height. Olivia pointed to the largest jeweled broach in the display in front of her. "I''d like this boxed, please. And I''d like that hat as well. For my sister. She always gets cross when I come home without something for her," she said conspiratorially to the other patrons--though she knew full well Helen would prefer a pair of pliers to a hat. Olivia walked slowly around the room. "Those gloves." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Five yards of that yellow silk--" "Excuse me--" "Miss," Olivia provided. The shop girl''s cheeks reddened. Good , Olivia thought, she''s realized her mistake . "Miss," the shop girl huffed, clearly frazzled. "Your choices are quite expensive." "Yes, well," Olivia said, the playfulness vanishing from her tone, "I have expensive taste. You can charge it to my family''s account." Her eyes cut back to the shop girl. "The name is Davenport." There weren''t many Black shoppers ordering white attendants around department stores. But Davenport, a name cultivated by her father''s hard work and her mother''s determination, was well known. It was powerful enough to get her father admission into most of Chicago''s elite clubs, her mother on the most exclusive charity boards, and her older brother into university. Chicago may have been a beacon in the North, where many Black people thrived under laws enacted during and after the Reconstruction, but painful encounters due to the color of her skin still caught her off guard. A second attendant, an older woman with more decorum, appeared from the crowd. "I can assist you, Miss Davenport. Eliza, you are dismissed," she said to the shop girl. Olivia recognized her as one of her mother''s regular attendants. "How are you, dear?" Olivia''s anger began to settle as she watched the older woman flit around wrapping things in tissue. She knew she was being petty. Most things considered, her life was privileged. She thought about canceling the sale, asking that everything be put back, but she could still feel the eyes of the other attendant watching from afar. And pride was one of the many things Davenports had in abundance. Finally, Ruby appeared. Olivia was relieved to see her friend, and to no longer be the only Black person in the room. Ruby''s face was flushed and her eyes glittered against her russet-brown complexion. "I heard there was a commotion over here," she said with a grin. "What happened?" Harold, the coachman, pulled the carriage from the curb in front of Marshall Field''s and into State Street traffic. It was late afternoon in the early spring, and Chicago was alive. Colonnaded restaurants shared walls with brick and glass factories churning man-made clouds into the sky. Bells from the streetcars competed with the horns of motorized cars. Men in their tweed suits rushed by newsies yelling from their corners. People of all kinds filled the streets as Olivia watched from the window of one of her family''s many covered, luxury buggies, concealed by a silk-lined canopy. "Oh, Olivia." Ruby reached for her hand. "That girl knew damn well that your dress cost more than what she makes in a month. Plain old jealousy, is what that was." Olivia attempted a smile and refolded her hands in her lap. Her friend was right, but there was more to it. That girl had looked at Olivia as if she were a thief. A pretender. Less than. Olivia would never get used to that look. Beside her, Ruby examined the fox-fur trim on a pair of gloves Olivia purchased during her shopping spree. "Keep them," Olivia said, catching her best friend''s eye. One less thing to remind her. Ruby pulled on the gloves and cupped her face, preening. Then she wiggled her brows and stuck out her tongue until Olivia gave her a real smile and the two collapsed into a fit of giggles. Harold stopped the carriage at the intersection. Straight would take them to the North Side, where Chicago''s wealthiest and most affluent residents lived. It was where the Davenports called home. "Oh! By the way," Ruby said, "did I imagine it or did Helen come out of your garage covered head to toe in grease the other day?" She stifled a laugh. Olivia rolled her eyes. Her younger sister was determined to be as unmarriageable as possible. "She should be more careful. If Daddy sees her, he''ll have a fit." As children, Olivia and Helen had been close. Together with their maid Amy-Rose, and later Ruby, they turned the grounds of their family estate into their very own kingdom. They spent hours in the gardens, evading their governess. When the time came for Olivia to make her societal debut last spring, she decided to do away with childish things, hoping Helen would follow her example. Instead, Helen seemed to be barreling in the other direction. As Harold guided the carriage through the gates of Freeport Manor, Olivia couldn''t imagine a more beautiful welcome after a long day. The Davenport mansion stood at the edge of one of Chicago''s most elite neighborhoods, where their estate dwarfed those around them. When Olivia was younger, she thought it was because of her family''s money. Later, she realized it was because no one wanted to buy property that bordered a Black family''s estate. The grounds included several acres for gardens, stables, and fields for the horses to roam. The newest addition was a garage for the repair of Davenport carriages and the automobiles John collected. The Davenport Carriage Company was a leap of faith her father had taken years ago. As a very young man, he had escaped enslavement and made the treacherous journey north, where Black folks had a chance at something like freedom. He dreamed of creating a horse-drawn carriage so luxurious, it would be more than a means of travel. And he succeeded. Shortly after being laughed out of the garage where he worked, William Davenport took his savings and a few disgruntled employees and began his own business. It thrived, and in time his carriages became the most sought-after in the world. But now, with automobiles competing for space on city streets, John had started to pressure their father to update with the times. "Look." Ruby pointed to the phaeton near the garage. "Is that one of yours?" The phaeton was spartan in design. Matte black with thin spindly wheels and no driver, the opposite of the Davenport models with their velvet-tufted seating, thick sturdy tires for a smooth ride, and a finish so lacquered, one could see their reflection above the gold-leaf Davenport crest emblazoned on the back. Olivia straightened up and gathered her skirts. "Probably one of John''s projects. Though, I don''t see why he''d bring it here. Ever since he came home with his automobile, it''s been all he and Helen talk about." "Will John be at dinner tonight?" Ruby asked, feigning nonchalance. Olivia rolled her eyes. Her best friend was terrible at hiding her interest in her brother. "He does have to eat," she teased. Olivia descended the steps of the carriage and looked up at Freeport, the only place she''d ever called home. The three-story Victorian was painted a pale blue with steep, gabled roofs and a pair of turrets. The wood railing of the wide porch had been car

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