Cyrusngoo

21 century Wall Street financial analyst Victoria Clarke travels to the American South in 1861 in a car accident and becomes the infamous widow Eleanor Van der Lyn-a serpentine woman recorded in history as having been “hanged by the neck on the eve of the inauguration of Abraham Lincoln for treason”. Lincoln on the eve of his inauguration for treason”. She looks in the mirror at her original character's flaming lips and waist, and sneers, “A villain? No, I'll make both the North and South kneel and tremble under my skirt!”
Clutching the mysterious diary left behind by the original owner in her left hand (which records the dirty dealings between the Southern aristocrats and the Northern politicians), and carrying the three mysterious “adopted sons” in her right hand (which are actually the artificial war machines in the Southern secret laboratories), Eleanor kicked away Alexander Hawthorne, the plantation owner who tries to control her by marriage, and threw the champagne into her hand, and then kicked her out of the room. Hawthorne, who pours champagne on a slave-state legislator's marriage agreement: “I have only two rules for parenting: teach my children to level slave estates with dynamite, and teach them to turn Northern generals with love letters.”
--When the New York Times ridiculed her as a “slut stirring up the war through nepotism,” she took her adopted children to burn cotton fields live and force Lincoln to sign the Early Emancipation Proclamation; when Northern spies kidnapped her children, she backhandedly exposed the gold smuggling chain between General Grant and the Bank of the South, which was featured in the Washington Post. When Northern spies kidnapped her children, she backhandedly exposed the gold smuggling chain between General Grant and the Bank of the South, making headlines in the Washington Post: “Thanks to the arms sent by the enemy, I am now the first female arms dealer and interim Secretary of State of the United States of America.

Reborn as the Iron Queen: Love and Gunpowder in the Civil War

Eleanor kicked open the steel door of the underground lab, her heels stained with the brains of the militia leader. The three "adopted sons" pounced on the cryopods like wolf cubs on the scent of blood, the frozen frost on the glass reflecting the metal codes that glittered on the backs of their necks - CSA-01 through 03 (Confederate States of America Top Secret).

"Mommy, here's a present!" The oldest boy lifts the tarp to reveal rows of formalin-soaked babies, each with bronze keys in their hearts, and Eleanor picks up the scattered lab logs from the console, the yellowed pages reading "Human Weapons Breeding Program" causing her stomach to twitch - "These children were implanted with nitroglycerin," she says. -These children were implanted with nitroglycerine capsules that would explode when their heart rate exceeded 140 beats per minute.

Suddenly there was the sound of a piano on the second floor. She gripped her flintlock rifle and rushed up the rotating staircase, bumping into the silver-haired man in the gray uniform playing the Dixie Elegy. "Dear Miss Widow," the man's fingertips traced the dried blood on the keys, "what is the punishment for peeking at state secrets?" The gold oak leaf crest on his shoulder patch revealed the identity: the Chief Scientist of the South, Dr. Mortimer Voss, and the Satan who had created these artificial demons.

Eleanor flung the lab log in his face, "Hand over the code to deactivate the self-destruct, or I'll let the whole state of Georgia know about it-you're stealing from the military to keep a mistress." She deliberately revealed the bruise at her collarbone, a hickey faked by deliberately bumping into the corner of the closet this morning.

Voss suddenly grabbed her by the throat and pressed her against the grand piano, which actually hid a miniature telegraph in its case. "That's what you should be worried about," he draws out the cryo-compartment key and inserts it into the steel bone of her skirt support, "Lincoln's love letter was a trap, he knew you were double-faced..."

An explosion interrupted the conversation. The youngest adopted son climbed up the crystal chandelier at some point and dripped nitroglycerin spit into Voss's whiskey glass. "Mom said," he cocked his head as he watched the scientist's throat explode in smoke, "that drinking from strangers gives you a stomach ache."

When Eleanor rips the chain off Voss's pocket watch (which hides a wiring diagram of the Presidential Palace), the attic suddenly crashes down with barbed wire cages. The foster children's pupils glow killing red, only to have their eyes covered by the draft of the Emancipation Proclamation she flings at them, "Babies, tear down your enemies before you tear down their beliefs-it's like shorting a junk stock."

As the church bells struck twelve, she stood on the ruins of the burning lab and unlocked the encrypted journal with Voss's severed finger. Newly surfaced words in blood froze her blood, "Don't fall in love with the man who reads you poetry; that's how Lincoln's fourteenth mistress was hanged."

Three hundred miles away, spies in the White House cellar are slipping bloodstained wedding rings onto dummy fingers-exactly like the three on Eleanor's ring finger.

Chapter 2: Nitroglycerin Hidden in the Spines of Angels