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The House of Eve
Table of Contents
About The Book
“Amazing…I was completely surprised by the ending of this beautifully told and written book.” —Reese Witherspoon
“A triumph of historical fiction” (The Washington Post), an instant New York Times bestseller, and a Reese’s Book Club pick, set in 1950s Philadelphia and Washington, DC, that explores what it means to be a woman and a mother, and how much one is willing to sacrifice to achieve her greatest goal.
1950s Philadelphia: fifteen-year-old Ruby Pearsall is on track to becoming the first in her family to attend college. But a taboo love affair threatens to pull her back down into the poverty and desperation that has been passed on to her like a birthright.
Eleanor Quarles arrives in Washington, DC, with ambition and secrets. When she meets the handsome William Pride at Howard University, they fall madly in love. But William hails from one of DC’s elite wealthy Black families, and his parents don’t let just anyone into their fold. Eleanor hopes that a baby will make her finally feel at home in William’s family and grant her the life she’s been searching for. But having a baby—and fitting in—is easier said than done.
With their stories colliding in the most unexpected of ways, Ruby and Eleanor will both make decisions that shape the trajectory of their lives.
“A triumph of historical fiction” (The Washington Post), an instant New York Times bestseller, and a Reese’s Book Club pick, set in 1950s Philadelphia and Washington, DC, that explores what it means to be a woman and a mother, and how much one is willing to sacrifice to achieve her greatest goal.
1950s Philadelphia: fifteen-year-old Ruby Pearsall is on track to becoming the first in her family to attend college. But a taboo love affair threatens to pull her back down into the poverty and desperation that has been passed on to her like a birthright.
Eleanor Quarles arrives in Washington, DC, with ambition and secrets. When she meets the handsome William Pride at Howard University, they fall madly in love. But William hails from one of DC’s elite wealthy Black families, and his parents don’t let just anyone into their fold. Eleanor hopes that a baby will make her finally feel at home in William’s family and grant her the life she’s been searching for. But having a baby—and fitting in—is easier said than done.
With their stories colliding in the most unexpected of ways, Ruby and Eleanor will both make decisions that shape the trajectory of their lives.
Excerpt
Chapter One: Mommies and Dragons CHAPTER ONE Philadelphia, October 1948 MOMMIES AND DRAGONS Ruby
My grandma Nene always said that early was on time, on time was late, and late was unacceptable. Fatty was unacceptably late again. Knowing full well that I had some place important to be. I didn’t mind staying with Grandma Nene overnight once a week so that Fatty could clean offices. All I asked was that she be home in time for me to catch the bus to my Saturday enrichment classes. And for the third week in a row, Fatty dragged her heavy feet through Nene’s apartment door fifteen minutes behind schedule, calling out in her high-pitched voice, “Ruby girl, I’m sorry. Let me tell you what happened.”
My cousin had more excuses than a hoe going to jail, and I didn’t have time to entertain her colorful tales this morning. I had one hour to get all the way down to South Philly, and I twisted up my lips in a way that I hoped conveyed how annoyed I was over her lack of consideration.
“You got my carfare?” I thrust my hand in her face, but Fatty brushed past me in the narrow hallway, past the crooked family pictures that hung in mismatched frames, through to the small L-shaped kitchen. I stomped behind her as she snatched back her pageboy wig and tossed it on the counter.
“Your mother said she’d leave it for you.”
A baby cockroach scurried from under the toaster, and Fatty smashed it dead with her palm.
“You gonna make me walk all the way back in the opposite direction? Just give me twenty cents.”
“I would if I could,” she said, scrubbing her hands at the apron sink. “But I’m broke as a joke girl until next Friday.”
My scalp heated. “Grandma ain’t got no money round here? What if my mother forgot?”
“Chile, I talked to Inez last night, she said she would. Now quit wearing out my nerves. If you leave now, you’ll make it.” Fatty reached into the icebox and cracked open a can of Schlitz. She tipped it to her lips and took a long swallow, then exhaled in a way that suggested that she had been thirsting for that beer her whole way home. After another hungry swig, she undid the buttons to her blue uniform down to her waist. The rolls around her middle sighed with relief.
“Did Nene take her medicine?”
I snatched up my school bag, nodding my head with frustration. “She’s been sleep twenty minutes. Her next eye dosage is at eleven.”
With the front door open, I could smell scrapple frying from the new neighbor’s apartment on the first floor. She had twin babies who kept up a chorus of crying all night long. “I’m not doing this for you no more.”
Fatty belched, then called after me, “I said I was sorry. Damn girl, what you want? Blood?”
I slammed the door in response, then felt bad, hoping I hadn’t disturbed Nene.
The piece of toast I had prepared for my journey was now cold and stiff with butter. I shoved the bread in my mouth as I ran down the two flights of stairs and out onto 28th Street. A dampness clung to the air from last night’s rain, and I had to sidestep wet leaves that had gathered in potholes.
I had been marked tardy for the last three weeks in a row, and Mrs. Thomas said if I was late to one more enrichment class, she was writing me up. I wondered if Fatty was messing with my future on purpose. Everyone, even Fatty, knew how prestigious it was to be selected to participate in the Armstrong Association’s We Rise program. As one of twelve Negro students chosen from across the city of Philadelphia, I was competing to receive a full four-year scholarship to Cheyney University, the oldest historically Negro college in the country. To earn it, I had to be impeccable in every way, and being on time was a requirement. If I wasn’t awarded the scholarship, I could forget all about going to college for optometry. No one in my family had been to college, nor could they afford to send me. I refused to let Fatty’s disregard for time muddy up my future. Especially since she hadn’t even finished high school.
Out on Columbia Avenue I passed by the Temple of God, where women dressed in white from head to toe stood greeting the congregation by the storefront entrance. It was the only church in the neighborhood that met on Saturday mornings, and I avoided eye contact, lest one of the women think I was curious about being saved by their Lord and try coaxing me to join them.
I hurried on, rounding the corner onto 33rd Street. In the middle of the block, I could see four men huddled in folding chairs in front of Process Willie’s barbershop. A backgammon set hunkered between two of them, and they all clung to paper cups, probably sipping brown liquor that kept them warm so early in the morning. Their wrinkled clothes and befuddled expressions suggested that they had been carrying on all night long, and I knew that meant trouble.
I buttoned up my jumbo knit sweater hoping that would make me invisible to them. But I wasn’t fast enough. As soon as I stepped down off the curb, I heard the first one call.
“Girl, you fine enough to make a grown man cry.”
The one next to him grinned wide enough for me to see that he was missing a tooth. “Yes, Lawd. Shaped like a Coca-Cola bottle. Got me thirsting for a drink.”
“Bet she taste sweet like candy, too.”
The one closest to me reached for my hand, but I sidestepped it.
“Whatcha in a rush for? Big Daddy got everything you need right here.”
I shot him the most evil eye I could muster as I slipped past them. The men continued to wolf whistle, and I could feel their eyes fixed on my behind. It was times like this I wished there was a button that would erase me. Not to die or nothing. Just so I wouldn’t exist. At the very least, I’d like to take a pin to my oversized tits and pop them like water balloons. Making me flat like a pancake, and as boring to watch as a teacup. Maybe then my mother would see me for who I was and stop calling me out my name.
We lived in a rented apartment on the corner of 33rd and Oxford. It was the third place we had called home in the past two years. Across the street from us was a huge park that we wouldn’t dare venture into. The closest I got to the lush greens was from our front porch, where I sat in a rusty folding chair and watched red-faced men play golf, their blonde wives parked with their children and packed snacks on nearby blankets, blasting the latest hits by Tony Bennett and Percy Faith.
Skipping up the cement steps of our redbrick building, I fumbled for the keys around my neck. None of the doorbells ever worked, and I had to jimmy my key in the deadbolt several times before it turned. Whenever it rained, the door jammed and I had to shove the heavy wood with my shoulder to pry it open. As I moved up the creaky stairs two at a time, I could feel my blouse sticking to my back. Whenever I got nervous, my face and back broke out into an annoying sweat. The bus would arrive in twenty minutes, which gave me time to change into another top that didn’t need pressing and sneak some of Inez’s perfume.
The front door of our apartment opened into the canary-colored kitchen, and I smelled a cigarette burning. I dabbed the sleeve of my sweater against my forehead and swallowed down my unease.
Inez always left money for me in the same hiding place: wrapped in a paper towel and slipped between two steak knives in a kitchen drawer. I slid open the drawer, breathing a sigh of relief when I saw the napkin. My fingers curled around it, but it felt light. I shook the tissue free, then moved the other knives around, hoping the money had slipped out somehow. But found nothing.
A new wave of sweat moistened my hairline as I tried to think of what to do next. There was no loose change laying around the apartment; I had used the spare coins last week when Inez hadn’t left the money. I had no idea how long it would take for me to walk from North Philly to South Philly, but just the thought of crossing the city on foot made my head hurt.
My unsteady fingers gripped the upholstery stuffing that was loose in the kitchen chair, trying to make a plan, when Leap, my mother’s latest boyfriend, strolled into the kitchen with a cigarette fastened between his nicotine-stained teeth.
“What are you doing here?” fell from my lips.
He cocked his head at me. “You my woman now, too?”
“You usually at the barber shop on Saturday morning.”
Leap drifted to the sink and turned on the faucet. He let the water gush out for a few seconds, and then he picked up a glass from the dish rack and filled it. While he sipped, his eyes roamed over me. Leap’s wandering eyes always made me self-conscious. Usually I avoided him as best I could, but in that moment I didn’t look away.
A baby-blue satin scarf was tied around the sides of his processed hair, knotted at his forehead. He had smooth, cherrywood-colored skin. A rope chain hung from his neck, and his T-shirt was untucked from his drawstring pants. He thought he looked like Nat King Cole, but he wasn’t nearly as cute.
The kitchen felt cramped and hot with both of us standing there. Leap leaned over the table and tapped his cigarette into the glass ashtray that sat among scattered bills. I could hear the wall clock ticking, and the toilet running from down the hall. Leap had forgotten to jiggle the toilet handle again after he flushed.
“What you in here rummaging around for?”
“My mother said she’d leave twenty cents for my carfare down to Lombard Street. You seen it?”
“Naw.” He dragged.
“Well, can you loan it to me till she get back?”
A slight smirk played on his face. “What you gonna do for me?”
My bus arrived in ten minutes, and I could hear each precious second ticking away on the kitchen clock.
“What you want?” I chewed on my fingernail, spitting out flecks of pink polish.
Leap stamped out his cigarette. “A kiss.”
“Huh?” My stomach sank so low I forgot to breathe.
“Just a quick one. No harm in that, and I’ll give you a quarter.” He flashed me a smile. His gold crown glinted from the upper right side of his mouth.
That was ten cents each way, plus five cents extra for a pretzel and juice on our break. Inez never gave me extra for food. I usually just sat in class hungry. My schoolbag had gotten heavy; I hadn’t realized I was still holding it.
The stress of it all was getting the best of me. I was desperate to get to my classes, determined to earn my scholarship, so that I could stop depending on Inez’s creepy boyfriends to keep a roof over our heads.
“Just a peck?” My voice cracked, hating that I was in this position, and Inez even more for putting me in it.
“Yeah.”
“On the cheek?”
He reached into his pocket and flipped the quarter in the air with his thumb and pointer finger, caught it and slammed it down on the table. “The lips.”
I shivered.
Leap folded his hands behind his back, squinting his eyes the way I saw him do to Inez when he wanted her to give him some sugar, as he called it. Shame flooded through me. Gulping down my nerves, I willed my feet to move around the chrome kitchen table toward him.
The only thing standing between me and getting to the program on time was a kiss. A measly little kiss. I could do this. When I closed my eyes and leaned up, I could smell a mixture of last night’s whiskey and this morning’s cigarettes reeking from him. I held back my gag.
Leap pressed his thick lips against mine and my knees knocked against each other. In an instant I felt his slimy tongue force my lips open. When I tried to pull away, Leap cupped one hand over my left breast and used the other hand to grab my behind, tilting me up against him. I squirmed but he just held me tighter, thrusting his thing up against my thigh over my skirt.
“Stop,” I whined, pressing my elbows against his waist, trying to free myself. But his grip was unbreakable.
Just then, the front door swung open. Leap stumbled back and pushed me away, but he wasn’t quick enough. Inez’s big eyes roved between us like a madwoman’s.
“What the hell?” she shouted, dropping the brown grocery bag. I heard something crack as it hit the linoleum floor.
Leap backed farther away from me with his hands up, like she was the police. “She came on to me. Talking about needing bus fare. All up on me before I could stop her.”
“Liar,” I hissed. “It was you.”
“Get the fuck out of here.” My mother put her arm in the air like she was firing a warning shot. Soft tendrils from her ponytail had come loose. We shared the same walnut-colored skin tone, but hers had turned apple red.
I turned to Leap, waiting to see how he’d react, glad that my mother was finally taking my side. But then I realized: she was looking at me. She was speaking to me. I was the one she blamed. Her eyes sliced into me like a butcher knife.
“Now! Fast ass.”
I palmed the quarter, and when I got to the front door, she pushed me in the back of my head. “Got no business all up in my man’s face. Stay in a child’s place.”
She slammed the door behind me so hard that the impact shook the hinges. I stumbled down the steep steps, reaching for the banister to catch myself from falling. Once outside I tried to shake the whole scene from my mind, but I kept feeling Leap’s fingers clawing me, kept feeling Inez’s fury burn my chest, as I ran the three blocks to the bus stop.
About a half block away, I could see the bus pull over to the curb, and I ran faster, pumping my knees under my skirt as my bag slapped hard against my hip. I called out, waving my hands to get the driver’s attention. A few feet away, the door cranked closed, but I was near enough to bang on the metal siding with my fist.
“Please, wait!” I hollered.
But the bus driver pulled away from the curb like he didn’t hear me. Like I didn’t matter. Like I didn’t exist. I hurled my schoolbag to the ground, then bent over and spit the overwhelming taste of Leap from my mouth.
My grandma Nene always said that early was on time, on time was late, and late was unacceptable. Fatty was unacceptably late again. Knowing full well that I had some place important to be. I didn’t mind staying with Grandma Nene overnight once a week so that Fatty could clean offices. All I asked was that she be home in time for me to catch the bus to my Saturday enrichment classes. And for the third week in a row, Fatty dragged her heavy feet through Nene’s apartment door fifteen minutes behind schedule, calling out in her high-pitched voice, “Ruby girl, I’m sorry. Let me tell you what happened.”
My cousin had more excuses than a hoe going to jail, and I didn’t have time to entertain her colorful tales this morning. I had one hour to get all the way down to South Philly, and I twisted up my lips in a way that I hoped conveyed how annoyed I was over her lack of consideration.
“You got my carfare?” I thrust my hand in her face, but Fatty brushed past me in the narrow hallway, past the crooked family pictures that hung in mismatched frames, through to the small L-shaped kitchen. I stomped behind her as she snatched back her pageboy wig and tossed it on the counter.
“Your mother said she’d leave it for you.”
A baby cockroach scurried from under the toaster, and Fatty smashed it dead with her palm.
“You gonna make me walk all the way back in the opposite direction? Just give me twenty cents.”
“I would if I could,” she said, scrubbing her hands at the apron sink. “But I’m broke as a joke girl until next Friday.”
My scalp heated. “Grandma ain’t got no money round here? What if my mother forgot?”
“Chile, I talked to Inez last night, she said she would. Now quit wearing out my nerves. If you leave now, you’ll make it.” Fatty reached into the icebox and cracked open a can of Schlitz. She tipped it to her lips and took a long swallow, then exhaled in a way that suggested that she had been thirsting for that beer her whole way home. After another hungry swig, she undid the buttons to her blue uniform down to her waist. The rolls around her middle sighed with relief.
“Did Nene take her medicine?”
I snatched up my school bag, nodding my head with frustration. “She’s been sleep twenty minutes. Her next eye dosage is at eleven.”
With the front door open, I could smell scrapple frying from the new neighbor’s apartment on the first floor. She had twin babies who kept up a chorus of crying all night long. “I’m not doing this for you no more.”
Fatty belched, then called after me, “I said I was sorry. Damn girl, what you want? Blood?”
I slammed the door in response, then felt bad, hoping I hadn’t disturbed Nene.
The piece of toast I had prepared for my journey was now cold and stiff with butter. I shoved the bread in my mouth as I ran down the two flights of stairs and out onto 28th Street. A dampness clung to the air from last night’s rain, and I had to sidestep wet leaves that had gathered in potholes.
I had been marked tardy for the last three weeks in a row, and Mrs. Thomas said if I was late to one more enrichment class, she was writing me up. I wondered if Fatty was messing with my future on purpose. Everyone, even Fatty, knew how prestigious it was to be selected to participate in the Armstrong Association’s We Rise program. As one of twelve Negro students chosen from across the city of Philadelphia, I was competing to receive a full four-year scholarship to Cheyney University, the oldest historically Negro college in the country. To earn it, I had to be impeccable in every way, and being on time was a requirement. If I wasn’t awarded the scholarship, I could forget all about going to college for optometry. No one in my family had been to college, nor could they afford to send me. I refused to let Fatty’s disregard for time muddy up my future. Especially since she hadn’t even finished high school.
Out on Columbia Avenue I passed by the Temple of God, where women dressed in white from head to toe stood greeting the congregation by the storefront entrance. It was the only church in the neighborhood that met on Saturday mornings, and I avoided eye contact, lest one of the women think I was curious about being saved by their Lord and try coaxing me to join them.
I hurried on, rounding the corner onto 33rd Street. In the middle of the block, I could see four men huddled in folding chairs in front of Process Willie’s barbershop. A backgammon set hunkered between two of them, and they all clung to paper cups, probably sipping brown liquor that kept them warm so early in the morning. Their wrinkled clothes and befuddled expressions suggested that they had been carrying on all night long, and I knew that meant trouble.
I buttoned up my jumbo knit sweater hoping that would make me invisible to them. But I wasn’t fast enough. As soon as I stepped down off the curb, I heard the first one call.
“Girl, you fine enough to make a grown man cry.”
The one next to him grinned wide enough for me to see that he was missing a tooth. “Yes, Lawd. Shaped like a Coca-Cola bottle. Got me thirsting for a drink.”
“Bet she taste sweet like candy, too.”
The one closest to me reached for my hand, but I sidestepped it.
“Whatcha in a rush for? Big Daddy got everything you need right here.”
I shot him the most evil eye I could muster as I slipped past them. The men continued to wolf whistle, and I could feel their eyes fixed on my behind. It was times like this I wished there was a button that would erase me. Not to die or nothing. Just so I wouldn’t exist. At the very least, I’d like to take a pin to my oversized tits and pop them like water balloons. Making me flat like a pancake, and as boring to watch as a teacup. Maybe then my mother would see me for who I was and stop calling me out my name.
We lived in a rented apartment on the corner of 33rd and Oxford. It was the third place we had called home in the past two years. Across the street from us was a huge park that we wouldn’t dare venture into. The closest I got to the lush greens was from our front porch, where I sat in a rusty folding chair and watched red-faced men play golf, their blonde wives parked with their children and packed snacks on nearby blankets, blasting the latest hits by Tony Bennett and Percy Faith.
Skipping up the cement steps of our redbrick building, I fumbled for the keys around my neck. None of the doorbells ever worked, and I had to jimmy my key in the deadbolt several times before it turned. Whenever it rained, the door jammed and I had to shove the heavy wood with my shoulder to pry it open. As I moved up the creaky stairs two at a time, I could feel my blouse sticking to my back. Whenever I got nervous, my face and back broke out into an annoying sweat. The bus would arrive in twenty minutes, which gave me time to change into another top that didn’t need pressing and sneak some of Inez’s perfume.
The front door of our apartment opened into the canary-colored kitchen, and I smelled a cigarette burning. I dabbed the sleeve of my sweater against my forehead and swallowed down my unease.
Inez always left money for me in the same hiding place: wrapped in a paper towel and slipped between two steak knives in a kitchen drawer. I slid open the drawer, breathing a sigh of relief when I saw the napkin. My fingers curled around it, but it felt light. I shook the tissue free, then moved the other knives around, hoping the money had slipped out somehow. But found nothing.
A new wave of sweat moistened my hairline as I tried to think of what to do next. There was no loose change laying around the apartment; I had used the spare coins last week when Inez hadn’t left the money. I had no idea how long it would take for me to walk from North Philly to South Philly, but just the thought of crossing the city on foot made my head hurt.
My unsteady fingers gripped the upholstery stuffing that was loose in the kitchen chair, trying to make a plan, when Leap, my mother’s latest boyfriend, strolled into the kitchen with a cigarette fastened between his nicotine-stained teeth.
“What are you doing here?” fell from my lips.
He cocked his head at me. “You my woman now, too?”
“You usually at the barber shop on Saturday morning.”
Leap drifted to the sink and turned on the faucet. He let the water gush out for a few seconds, and then he picked up a glass from the dish rack and filled it. While he sipped, his eyes roamed over me. Leap’s wandering eyes always made me self-conscious. Usually I avoided him as best I could, but in that moment I didn’t look away.
A baby-blue satin scarf was tied around the sides of his processed hair, knotted at his forehead. He had smooth, cherrywood-colored skin. A rope chain hung from his neck, and his T-shirt was untucked from his drawstring pants. He thought he looked like Nat King Cole, but he wasn’t nearly as cute.
The kitchen felt cramped and hot with both of us standing there. Leap leaned over the table and tapped his cigarette into the glass ashtray that sat among scattered bills. I could hear the wall clock ticking, and the toilet running from down the hall. Leap had forgotten to jiggle the toilet handle again after he flushed.
“What you in here rummaging around for?”
“My mother said she’d leave twenty cents for my carfare down to Lombard Street. You seen it?”
“Naw.” He dragged.
“Well, can you loan it to me till she get back?”
A slight smirk played on his face. “What you gonna do for me?”
My bus arrived in ten minutes, and I could hear each precious second ticking away on the kitchen clock.
“What you want?” I chewed on my fingernail, spitting out flecks of pink polish.
Leap stamped out his cigarette. “A kiss.”
“Huh?” My stomach sank so low I forgot to breathe.
“Just a quick one. No harm in that, and I’ll give you a quarter.” He flashed me a smile. His gold crown glinted from the upper right side of his mouth.
That was ten cents each way, plus five cents extra for a pretzel and juice on our break. Inez never gave me extra for food. I usually just sat in class hungry. My schoolbag had gotten heavy; I hadn’t realized I was still holding it.
The stress of it all was getting the best of me. I was desperate to get to my classes, determined to earn my scholarship, so that I could stop depending on Inez’s creepy boyfriends to keep a roof over our heads.
“Just a peck?” My voice cracked, hating that I was in this position, and Inez even more for putting me in it.
“Yeah.”
“On the cheek?”
He reached into his pocket and flipped the quarter in the air with his thumb and pointer finger, caught it and slammed it down on the table. “The lips.”
I shivered.
Leap folded his hands behind his back, squinting his eyes the way I saw him do to Inez when he wanted her to give him some sugar, as he called it. Shame flooded through me. Gulping down my nerves, I willed my feet to move around the chrome kitchen table toward him.
The only thing standing between me and getting to the program on time was a kiss. A measly little kiss. I could do this. When I closed my eyes and leaned up, I could smell a mixture of last night’s whiskey and this morning’s cigarettes reeking from him. I held back my gag.
Leap pressed his thick lips against mine and my knees knocked against each other. In an instant I felt his slimy tongue force my lips open. When I tried to pull away, Leap cupped one hand over my left breast and used the other hand to grab my behind, tilting me up against him. I squirmed but he just held me tighter, thrusting his thing up against my thigh over my skirt.
“Stop,” I whined, pressing my elbows against his waist, trying to free myself. But his grip was unbreakable.
Just then, the front door swung open. Leap stumbled back and pushed me away, but he wasn’t quick enough. Inez’s big eyes roved between us like a madwoman’s.
“What the hell?” she shouted, dropping the brown grocery bag. I heard something crack as it hit the linoleum floor.
Leap backed farther away from me with his hands up, like she was the police. “She came on to me. Talking about needing bus fare. All up on me before I could stop her.”
“Liar,” I hissed. “It was you.”
“Get the fuck out of here.” My mother put her arm in the air like she was firing a warning shot. Soft tendrils from her ponytail had come loose. We shared the same walnut-colored skin tone, but hers had turned apple red.
I turned to Leap, waiting to see how he’d react, glad that my mother was finally taking my side. But then I realized: she was looking at me. She was speaking to me. I was the one she blamed. Her eyes sliced into me like a butcher knife.
“Now! Fast ass.”
I palmed the quarter, and when I got to the front door, she pushed me in the back of my head. “Got no business all up in my man’s face. Stay in a child’s place.”
She slammed the door behind me so hard that the impact shook the hinges. I stumbled down the steep steps, reaching for the banister to catch myself from falling. Once outside I tried to shake the whole scene from my mind, but I kept feeling Leap’s fingers clawing me, kept feeling Inez’s fury burn my chest, as I ran the three blocks to the bus stop.
About a half block away, I could see the bus pull over to the curb, and I ran faster, pumping my knees under my skirt as my bag slapped hard against my hip. I called out, waving my hands to get the driver’s attention. A few feet away, the door cranked closed, but I was near enough to bang on the metal siding with my fist.
“Please, wait!” I hollered.
But the bus driver pulled away from the curb like he didn’t hear me. Like I didn’t matter. Like I didn’t exist. I hurled my schoolbag to the ground, then bent over and spit the overwhelming taste of Leap from my mouth.
Reading Group Guide
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This reading group guide for The House of Eve includes discussion questions, and ideas for enhancing your book club. The suggested questions are intended to help your reading group find new and interesting angles and topics for your discussion. We hope that these ideas will enrich your conversation and increase your enjoyment of the book.
Topics and Questions for Discussion:
1. Consider the epigraph from Toni Morrison. How does this set the tone for the opening section? Who do you think are the monsters in this story, if any?
2. The novel takes place before the Civil Rights movement in the mid-50s and 1960s. Discuss how racism affects both women and their families, such as when Ruby goes stocking shopping with Aunt Marie or how she’s treated at the House of Magdalene. Would these instances be surprising today? Why or why not?
3. One of the biggest shocks for Eleanor is the colorism amongst Black people in Washington, DC. This is highlighted in particular when Eleanor meets William’s family and describes it as being “a room filled with white-faced Negroes.” How does colorism play out in the novel for both Ruby and Eleanor?
4. Both Ruby and Eleanor have mentors in their stories; Ruby with Mrs. Thomas and Eleanor with Mrs. Porter. How do these women support their mentees, and how would the story have played out if they weren’t a part of Ruby and Eleanor’s lives?
5. Both Ruby and Eleanor fall in love with men who are off limits and essentially forbidden. Shimmy is Jewish and William is upper class. How do these conflicts affect their relationships, and shape each woman’s decisions throughout the novel?
6. William and Shimmy may seem like opposites, but how are they similar? What prejudices do both of them face?
7. The second epigraph of the book (“Sometimes there are no words to help one’s courage. Sometimes you just have to jump.”) comes from Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes, an American poet, psychoanalyst, and post-trauma specialist. Why do you think Sadeqa chose this quote, from this author, in the novel? How does trauma affect the characters?
8. The role of a mother is a strong theme in the book. How do the actions of Rose, Eleanor’s mother-in-law, and Mrs. Shapiro, Shimmy’s mother, affect Eleanor and Ruby and what happens to them? Would you consider them cruel and abusive or justified and reasonable in their actions?
9. Both William and Shimmy propose to Eleanor and Ruby upon hearing of their pregnancies, but each woman reacts differently. Ruby says to Shimmy, “Your mother will crush our love. The world will stomp out our fire.” Could Eleanor have said the same thing to William? Why or why not?
10. Consider the other young women and the nuns at the House of Magdalene. How does religion both inside and outside of the House use Christianity to bring shame to what happened to them? How does this stigma of shame and unwed mothers affect the women, and does it still exist today?
11. Despite the hardships that each character undergoes, there remains a sense of second chances and hope. How do Ruby and Eleanor find hope, even in their darkest moments? What keeps them going?
12. How are women’s reproductive rights portrayed in the novel? How is this struggle and lack of access reflected in today’s society, and could this story have taken place in modern day?
13. In the end, Ruby notes that Mother Margaret was right: “The only way forward was to forget.” Do you think this could be said not only of Ruby, but of this forgotten history of unwed homes for mothers? What are the harms in forgetting?
14. Discuss the last chapter of the novel, which is the only time in the story the two women meet in person. How did it make you feel? If the book continued, would you want the women to connect over what happened, or remain simple acquaintances?
Enhance Your Book Club
1. The We Rise program that Ruby attended was based on an actual initiative called Tell Them We Rise, which was designed by Ruth Wright Hayre, the first African-American woman to teach full time at a high school in Philadelphia. The program would allow 116 students selected in sixth grade to attend college for free if they stayed in school. You can learn more about this program through the PBS documentary Tell Them We Are Rising, directed by Stanley Nelson and Marco Williams.
2. Ruby loved to paint, and would often escape into her “Ruby’s Red World.” Look up a local painting class for your book club to join, or spend an evening at a “Paint and Sip” class. How else can art be used to escape and soothe or change perspective on a situation?
3. Sadeqa Johnson was inspired to write The House of Eve because of her personal family history, as described in her author’s note. Are there family stories you have pondered with unanswered questions? What if you could write their stories? Consider having group members write a journal entry from an ancestor’s perspective, and share anonymously for the group to reflect on together.
4. Enjoy a themed cocktail! To make Eve’s Elixir, mix: 2 oz. cognac or whiskey, 1 oz. lemon juice, ½ oz. simple syrup or agave, and a generous pour of sparkling wine. Serve on the rocks and garnish with a lemon wheel and maraschino cherry. Enjoy!
Bibliography for The House of Eve
Below is a list of books that were used as research for and mentioned in The House of Eve:
The Girl Who Went Away by Ann Fesler
Our Kind of People by Lawrence Otis Graham
Strawberry Mansion: The Jewish Community of North Philadelphia by Allen Meyer
Incident in the Life of a Slave Girl by Harriet Jacobs
Home to Harlem by Claude McKay
The Goodness of Violets and Other Tales by Alice Dunbar Nelson
Majors and Minors by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare
Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare
Our Nig: Sketches from the Life of a Free Black by Harriet E. Wilson
Uncle Tom’s Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe
Complete Writings by Phillis Wheatley
Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston
Playlist for The House of Eve
Music plays a quiet but significant role for both Ruby and Eleanor. Both William and Shimmy take them to concerts for their first dates. Below is a list of songs mentioned in The House of Eve:
“I Wanna Be Loved” by Dinah Washington
“Lover Man” by Billie Holiday
“Caravan” by Duke Ellington
“It Don’t Mean a Thing"
“A Blossom Fell” by Nat King Cole
“Rock and Roll” by Wild Bill Moore
“Stormy Weather” by Lena Horne
“Misty” by Sarah Vaughan
“This Little Light of Mine”
“Ain’t Misbehavin’” by Fats Waller
Musical compositions by Justin Elie
Musical compositions by Amadeo Roldán
“I’m Glad Salvation is Free” by Mahalia Jackson
A Conversation with Sadeqa Johnson
What was the inspiration for The House of Eve?
After I wrote Yellow Wife, I thought about writing a young adult novel instead of another historical novel for adults. Ruby came out of an idea I had for a YA novel. She also was partly inspired by my own family history. I remembered my mother telling me that she didn't know her mother was her mother until she was in the third grade. My grandmother was the black sheep of the family, because she had gotten pregnant at age 14 and had my mother at age 15, out of wedlock, and she birthed her in secret. My mom had lived with her grandmother until she was eight, and then she found out that my grandmother was really her mother. I started thinking: How is that situation possible, and what does that do to the child?
I started researching how it was at that time and I came upon these homes for women. They were largely for white women: teenagers and women in their 20s who were not married. They went into these homes when they were pregnant, and were usually forced to give up their babies. But I couldn't find a Black woman in these stories.
As a Black woman, I like to write about the Black experience. We do not have just one single narrative, no matter what is shown on TV. So I kept digging, and discovered a book called Our Kind of People by Lawrence Otis Graham. The book peeled back the veil on America’s wealthy African American upper class. They were doctors and lawyers, and I traced this research into Washington, D.C., and that was the beginning of William and Eleanor's story.
Around that time, Eleanor came to me, and she was full of rage. She was telling me that she was desperate to have a child, and desperate to fit in, and things were not working out the way she wanted them to. I figured I could solve her problem by having her adopt a baby, But adoption in the '40s and '50s was kept quiet. It wasn't openly discussed like it is now. Secret pregnancy and secret adoption. That’s how the two narratives came together.
Eleanor's experience at Howard University is wildly different than she expects, after growing up in a mostly white town. Tell us about the evolution of her character.
I was watching Toni Morrison's documentary, The Pieces I Am. Morrison was from Ohio, and she said, "I didn't know that [Black] people separated themselves by color until I set foot on Howard's campus." She lived on a block with Germans and Italians and Poles, and everyone looked out for each other. That wasn't my experience, but I made that a part of Eleanor's experience. [At Howard], she gets a closer look at the way Black people separated themselves by color.
Of course, that is all leftover baggage from slavery: the light-skinned people who were the master's children, who often worked in the house, and the darker-skinned folks often worked in the fields. The colorism and the social situations at Howard added an extra layer to this transition time for Eleanor--being away from home, being at school, being on the poorer end of the spectrum. There was the classism she faced as well.
Ruby falls in love with a Jewish boy, and both she and the adults in her life understand that this love might hamper her chances at a college degree.
Ruby says in the book that she was okay with being unhappy, but she was not okay with being poor. Sometimes, for girls like Ruby, it's a choice. How long would her happiness last if she was poor? For Ruby, I think the choices were easy. For her family members, the only jobs available were serving white people: cleaning their houses, nannying for them, chauffeuring them. The only way out was an education. And even that was sketchy--because, being poor, you couldn't afford it. A young girl should not have to choose between falling in love and getting an education. But if she didn't choose, this is the reality: she would be dependent on white folks. Being poor--or not being poor--is a strong motivator for a lot of decisions that people like Ruby had to make. Even now, really, that's the case.
Eleanor loves her work at the Howard library, and finds a mentor in Mrs. Porter, the librarian. What was the inspiration for her character?
Yes, Dorothy B. Porter was actually a librarian at Howard University. Growing up, the library was my foundation and my relationships with librarians totally fueled who I am today. When I stumbled upon Dorothy Porter's character, I had to figure out how to weave her in. Those scenes were a pure joy for me--writing about a woman who worked so hard to preserve African, African American, and Caribbean history. I loved being able to tie Eleanor into something so historically sound, which was also very important to her character.
Shame is a common theme in the novel: both Eleanor and Ruby are shamed for their choices and also for their struggles.
Shame for women is just rampant in our culture. If my kids misbehave, people are going to blame me--not their father! Anything that happens in the family structure is the woman's fault. My daughter couldn't find a homecoming dress that fit her shape. I told her, "It's not you that are wrong--it's the dressmakers thinking that we all fit into this one category." I think that's the case for Ruby and Eleanor: Ruby not fitting into Mrs. Shapiro's world, checking any of the boxes she thought would be a good fit for her son. And as for Eleanor, she was not of this wealthy society that Rose Pride thought William should marry into. If a woman can't get pregnant or can't carry a baby, she tends to think this is her fault. Women are taught to blame themselves for things that they are not in control over at a very early age, and that's something we deal with unless someone teaches you how to stop.
The House of Eve is ostensibly the story of two women, but really it's about multiple women: Ruby and Eleanor, their mothers, Ruby's aunt Marie, Mrs. Porter. What do you think is important about that ensemble cast?
Too often the Black women on TV look the same, act the same, sound the same. In The House of Eve, we have different colors, different classes, different backgrounds, different aspirations, etc. They are their own melting pot. I love being able to tell different versions of our stories.
Topics and Questions for Discussion:
1. Consider the epigraph from Toni Morrison. How does this set the tone for the opening section? Who do you think are the monsters in this story, if any?
2. The novel takes place before the Civil Rights movement in the mid-50s and 1960s. Discuss how racism affects both women and their families, such as when Ruby goes stocking shopping with Aunt Marie or how she’s treated at the House of Magdalene. Would these instances be surprising today? Why or why not?
3. One of the biggest shocks for Eleanor is the colorism amongst Black people in Washington, DC. This is highlighted in particular when Eleanor meets William’s family and describes it as being “a room filled with white-faced Negroes.” How does colorism play out in the novel for both Ruby and Eleanor?
4. Both Ruby and Eleanor have mentors in their stories; Ruby with Mrs. Thomas and Eleanor with Mrs. Porter. How do these women support their mentees, and how would the story have played out if they weren’t a part of Ruby and Eleanor’s lives?
5. Both Ruby and Eleanor fall in love with men who are off limits and essentially forbidden. Shimmy is Jewish and William is upper class. How do these conflicts affect their relationships, and shape each woman’s decisions throughout the novel?
6. William and Shimmy may seem like opposites, but how are they similar? What prejudices do both of them face?
7. The second epigraph of the book (“Sometimes there are no words to help one’s courage. Sometimes you just have to jump.”) comes from Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes, an American poet, psychoanalyst, and post-trauma specialist. Why do you think Sadeqa chose this quote, from this author, in the novel? How does trauma affect the characters?
8. The role of a mother is a strong theme in the book. How do the actions of Rose, Eleanor’s mother-in-law, and Mrs. Shapiro, Shimmy’s mother, affect Eleanor and Ruby and what happens to them? Would you consider them cruel and abusive or justified and reasonable in their actions?
9. Both William and Shimmy propose to Eleanor and Ruby upon hearing of their pregnancies, but each woman reacts differently. Ruby says to Shimmy, “Your mother will crush our love. The world will stomp out our fire.” Could Eleanor have said the same thing to William? Why or why not?
10. Consider the other young women and the nuns at the House of Magdalene. How does religion both inside and outside of the House use Christianity to bring shame to what happened to them? How does this stigma of shame and unwed mothers affect the women, and does it still exist today?
11. Despite the hardships that each character undergoes, there remains a sense of second chances and hope. How do Ruby and Eleanor find hope, even in their darkest moments? What keeps them going?
12. How are women’s reproductive rights portrayed in the novel? How is this struggle and lack of access reflected in today’s society, and could this story have taken place in modern day?
13. In the end, Ruby notes that Mother Margaret was right: “The only way forward was to forget.” Do you think this could be said not only of Ruby, but of this forgotten history of unwed homes for mothers? What are the harms in forgetting?
14. Discuss the last chapter of the novel, which is the only time in the story the two women meet in person. How did it make you feel? If the book continued, would you want the women to connect over what happened, or remain simple acquaintances?
Enhance Your Book Club
1. The We Rise program that Ruby attended was based on an actual initiative called Tell Them We Rise, which was designed by Ruth Wright Hayre, the first African-American woman to teach full time at a high school in Philadelphia. The program would allow 116 students selected in sixth grade to attend college for free if they stayed in school. You can learn more about this program through the PBS documentary Tell Them We Are Rising, directed by Stanley Nelson and Marco Williams.
2. Ruby loved to paint, and would often escape into her “Ruby’s Red World.” Look up a local painting class for your book club to join, or spend an evening at a “Paint and Sip” class. How else can art be used to escape and soothe or change perspective on a situation?
3. Sadeqa Johnson was inspired to write The House of Eve because of her personal family history, as described in her author’s note. Are there family stories you have pondered with unanswered questions? What if you could write their stories? Consider having group members write a journal entry from an ancestor’s perspective, and share anonymously for the group to reflect on together.
4. Enjoy a themed cocktail! To make Eve’s Elixir, mix: 2 oz. cognac or whiskey, 1 oz. lemon juice, ½ oz. simple syrup or agave, and a generous pour of sparkling wine. Serve on the rocks and garnish with a lemon wheel and maraschino cherry. Enjoy!
Bibliography for The House of Eve
Below is a list of books that were used as research for and mentioned in The House of Eve:
The Girl Who Went Away by Ann Fesler
Our Kind of People by Lawrence Otis Graham
Strawberry Mansion: The Jewish Community of North Philadelphia by Allen Meyer
Incident in the Life of a Slave Girl by Harriet Jacobs
Home to Harlem by Claude McKay
The Goodness of Violets and Other Tales by Alice Dunbar Nelson
Majors and Minors by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare
Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare
Our Nig: Sketches from the Life of a Free Black by Harriet E. Wilson
Uncle Tom’s Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe
Complete Writings by Phillis Wheatley
Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston
Playlist for The House of Eve
Music plays a quiet but significant role for both Ruby and Eleanor. Both William and Shimmy take them to concerts for their first dates. Below is a list of songs mentioned in The House of Eve:
“I Wanna Be Loved” by Dinah Washington
“Lover Man” by Billie Holiday
“Caravan” by Duke Ellington
“It Don’t Mean a Thing"
“A Blossom Fell” by Nat King Cole
“Rock and Roll” by Wild Bill Moore
“Stormy Weather” by Lena Horne
“Misty” by Sarah Vaughan
“This Little Light of Mine”
“Ain’t Misbehavin’” by Fats Waller
Musical compositions by Justin Elie
Musical compositions by Amadeo Roldán
“I’m Glad Salvation is Free” by Mahalia Jackson
A Conversation with Sadeqa Johnson
What was the inspiration for The House of Eve?
After I wrote Yellow Wife, I thought about writing a young adult novel instead of another historical novel for adults. Ruby came out of an idea I had for a YA novel. She also was partly inspired by my own family history. I remembered my mother telling me that she didn't know her mother was her mother until she was in the third grade. My grandmother was the black sheep of the family, because she had gotten pregnant at age 14 and had my mother at age 15, out of wedlock, and she birthed her in secret. My mom had lived with her grandmother until she was eight, and then she found out that my grandmother was really her mother. I started thinking: How is that situation possible, and what does that do to the child?
I started researching how it was at that time and I came upon these homes for women. They were largely for white women: teenagers and women in their 20s who were not married. They went into these homes when they were pregnant, and were usually forced to give up their babies. But I couldn't find a Black woman in these stories.
As a Black woman, I like to write about the Black experience. We do not have just one single narrative, no matter what is shown on TV. So I kept digging, and discovered a book called Our Kind of People by Lawrence Otis Graham. The book peeled back the veil on America’s wealthy African American upper class. They were doctors and lawyers, and I traced this research into Washington, D.C., and that was the beginning of William and Eleanor's story.
Around that time, Eleanor came to me, and she was full of rage. She was telling me that she was desperate to have a child, and desperate to fit in, and things were not working out the way she wanted them to. I figured I could solve her problem by having her adopt a baby, But adoption in the '40s and '50s was kept quiet. It wasn't openly discussed like it is now. Secret pregnancy and secret adoption. That’s how the two narratives came together.
Eleanor's experience at Howard University is wildly different than she expects, after growing up in a mostly white town. Tell us about the evolution of her character.
I was watching Toni Morrison's documentary, The Pieces I Am. Morrison was from Ohio, and she said, "I didn't know that [Black] people separated themselves by color until I set foot on Howard's campus." She lived on a block with Germans and Italians and Poles, and everyone looked out for each other. That wasn't my experience, but I made that a part of Eleanor's experience. [At Howard], she gets a closer look at the way Black people separated themselves by color.
Of course, that is all leftover baggage from slavery: the light-skinned people who were the master's children, who often worked in the house, and the darker-skinned folks often worked in the fields. The colorism and the social situations at Howard added an extra layer to this transition time for Eleanor--being away from home, being at school, being on the poorer end of the spectrum. There was the classism she faced as well.
Ruby falls in love with a Jewish boy, and both she and the adults in her life understand that this love might hamper her chances at a college degree.
Ruby says in the book that she was okay with being unhappy, but she was not okay with being poor. Sometimes, for girls like Ruby, it's a choice. How long would her happiness last if she was poor? For Ruby, I think the choices were easy. For her family members, the only jobs available were serving white people: cleaning their houses, nannying for them, chauffeuring them. The only way out was an education. And even that was sketchy--because, being poor, you couldn't afford it. A young girl should not have to choose between falling in love and getting an education. But if she didn't choose, this is the reality: she would be dependent on white folks. Being poor--or not being poor--is a strong motivator for a lot of decisions that people like Ruby had to make. Even now, really, that's the case.
Eleanor loves her work at the Howard library, and finds a mentor in Mrs. Porter, the librarian. What was the inspiration for her character?
Yes, Dorothy B. Porter was actually a librarian at Howard University. Growing up, the library was my foundation and my relationships with librarians totally fueled who I am today. When I stumbled upon Dorothy Porter's character, I had to figure out how to weave her in. Those scenes were a pure joy for me--writing about a woman who worked so hard to preserve African, African American, and Caribbean history. I loved being able to tie Eleanor into something so historically sound, which was also very important to her character.
Shame is a common theme in the novel: both Eleanor and Ruby are shamed for their choices and also for their struggles.
Shame for women is just rampant in our culture. If my kids misbehave, people are going to blame me--not their father! Anything that happens in the family structure is the woman's fault. My daughter couldn't find a homecoming dress that fit her shape. I told her, "It's not you that are wrong--it's the dressmakers thinking that we all fit into this one category." I think that's the case for Ruby and Eleanor: Ruby not fitting into Mrs. Shapiro's world, checking any of the boxes she thought would be a good fit for her son. And as for Eleanor, she was not of this wealthy society that Rose Pride thought William should marry into. If a woman can't get pregnant or can't carry a baby, she tends to think this is her fault. Women are taught to blame themselves for things that they are not in control over at a very early age, and that's something we deal with unless someone teaches you how to stop.
The House of Eve is ostensibly the story of two women, but really it's about multiple women: Ruby and Eleanor, their mothers, Ruby's aunt Marie, Mrs. Porter. What do you think is important about that ensemble cast?
Too often the Black women on TV look the same, act the same, sound the same. In The House of Eve, we have different colors, different classes, different backgrounds, different aspirations, etc. They are their own melting pot. I love being able to tell different versions of our stories.
About The Author
RhodesPhotoLLC
Sadeqa Johnson is the New York Times bestselling author of five novels. Her accolades include being the 2022 Hurston/Wright Foundation Legacy finalist, a BCALA Literary Honoree, and the Library of Virginia’s Literary People’s Choice Award winner. She is a Kimbilio Fellow and teaches in the MFA program at Drexel University. Originally from Philadelphia, she currently lives near Richmond, Virginia with her husband and three teens.
Why We Love It
“The House of Eve is the perfect book club read. Its immersive setting and propulsive plot will transport readers to 1950s DC and Philadelphia, all while effortlessly tackling issues of race, colorism within the Black community, and class. It’s also an epic love story about people transcending race and class in the name of love. We also fell hard for the story behind the novel; this is a personal story for Sadeqa, whose grandmother became pregnant with Sadeqa’s mother at fourteen. This led Sadeqa to wonder: why, in all of her research on homes for unwed mothers—of which there were many in the US during this time period—had she never heard about a place for Black girls like her grandmother? Eventually, she stumbled upon the Florence Crittendon Home for Girls, which served as the basis of Ruby’s story. We love that this is a transporting historical novel grounded in deep research, and one with a personal family hook for the author. ”
—Carina G., Senior Editor, on The House of Eve
Product Details
- Publisher: 37 Ink (February 7, 2023)
- Length: 384 pages
- ISBN13: 9781982197360
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Raves and Reviews
A New York Times bestseller – An Apple Best Book of 2023 – A Goodreads Best Book of 2023 – An NPR Best Book of 2023
“The House of Eve is a triumph of historical fiction.…Johnson’s novel is an affecting and arresting exploration of young Black womanhood and motherhood in the mid-20th century…. Johnson’s talents are in full bloom in this layered story with two distinctive and compelling young Black women at the center…. The House of Eve is engrossing, emotionally wrenching and socially astute storytelling.”—Washington Post
“A beautifully written and wonderfully crafted tale of two young Black women, their families and their love stories. However, that’s only the beginning of this immersive, captivating story. Johnson’s two main characters are strikingly different but stunningly similar. Readers will never forget Ruby or Eleanor, or the choices they make and the sacrifices they endure in this timely, relatable tale of women, children, skin color, haves and have-nots with an ending that will stay with you for a long, long time. A Reese’s Book Club pick, The House of Eve is an instant classic.”—NPR
“A heartrending story.”—Taylor Jenkins Reid, via Goodreads
"A provocative and heartrending tale about two young women forced to face the limitations of their reproductive choices in 1950s America. Ripping open the complex intersection of classism, colorism and gender inequality, Johnson has delivered a powerful statement on the cost of suppressing female autonomy that’s stunning to experience and impossible to forget."--Atlanta Journal Constitution
"This is a moving work of women’s fiction with timely perspective on racism, colorism, and pre-Roe women’s rights in the United States of the 1950s. Fans of Tayari Jones, Brit Bennett, and Jeni McFarland will want to check it out."—Library Journal
“Johnson’s suspenseful and thought-provoking latest follows two young Black women as they separately navigate mid-20th century America…. This well-crafted work is bound to provoke discussion among readers about the conflicts women face regarding pregnancy.”—Publishers Weekly
"Johnson showcases the difficult boundaries of race, class, and education as she explores the obstacles and consequences that confront those who seek to cross them."—Booklist
"Johnson's portrait of young women with sharp wit and big dreams is powerful and honest.”--PopSugar
“If you’ve read Sadeqa Johnson’s other books, you’ll know her extraordinary talent for writing historical fiction that breaks the mold by challenging dominant narratives and encouraging readers to rethink their assumptions. Her latest offering is a powerfully moving story of womanhood, motherhood, race and redemption.”--Ms. Magazine
“Sadeqa Johnson is expert at excavating the parts of the past that we would rather not confront. She dusts off these harrowing histories, shines them up, and gives them their proper glory. She mines this terrain with soaring grace, shining intellect, and a love that resonates on every page. Thanks to Johnson's enviable ability to craft narratives that not only educate and elucidate, but also enamor, the stories of Ruby and Eleanor, and the Ancestors and Elders they represent, will remain with me always. The House of Eve is a powerful witnessing, an indispensable testimony, and a remarkable addition to Johnson's already stunning bibliography.” —ROBERT JONES, JR., author of The New York Times bestselling novel, The Prophets
"A luminous, moving read."--Kate Quinn, author of The Diamond Eye
“The House of Eve is a gorgeous, timely novel about the price that women pay for love. Eleanor and Ruby must choose between passion and safety, studies or motherhood, and painful situations or convenient lies. I ached for this book’s characters and savored this brilliant, deeply-researched novel about courage, coverups, and choices that no one should have to make.”—JANET SKESLIEN CHARLES, author of New York Times bestseller The Paris Library
"Sadeqa Johnson has a unique talent for shining light on lesser-known chapters of American history and bringing them fully, vibrantly to life. In The House of Eve, she paints a vivid world of circumstance, sacrifice, and longing, set just before the dawn of rock'n'roll in Philadelphia and Washington, D.C. With pitch-perfect dialogue, intricately researched details, and a tender exploration of the hearts of two women facing life-altering decisions, The House of Eve is an unforgettable tale of motherhood, ambition, the perils of prejudice, and the heartache of forbidden love."—KRISTIN HARMEL, New York Times bestselling author of The Forest of Vanishing Stars
“Full of immense heart, The House of Eve is a profound exploration of what it means to be a woman and mother in a world that can’t and won’t support you. This is a novel born of Johnson’s family history, a remarkable story re-imagined with grace, truth and powerful love. With the true and fascinating history of women who changed the world amid prejudice, shame and forbidden love, Johnson has gifted us with an enthralling novel that will leave an indelible imprint on our hearts and minds. I loved this book.”—PATTI CALLAHAN HENRY, New York Times bestselling author of The Secret Book of Flora Lea
“I don’t know where to begin with the brilliantly written House of Eve by Sadeqa Johnson. There were so many twists and turns, so many heart palpitating moments—I couldn’t turn the pages fast enough. House of Eve is one of those novels that will stay with you long after you read the last page."—VICTORIA CHRISTOPHER MURRAY, New York Times bestselling author of The Personal Librarian
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