By Taylor Brown
An Indie subsequent decide, an Okra 2016 wintry weather choice, and a SIBA Bestseller!
Fallen Land is Taylor Brown's debut novel set within the ultimate yr of the Civil warfare, as a tender couple on horseback flees a deadly band of marauders who search a bounty present. Callum, a pro horse thief at fifteen years outdated, got here to the United States from his local eire as an orphan. Ava, her father and brother misplaced to the warfare, hides in her crumbling domestic till Callum determines to rescue her from the bands of hungry squaddies pillaging the land, leaving destruction of their wake. Ava and Callum have basically one another on the planet and their impressive horse, Reiver, who incorporates them in the course of the destruction that's the South. Pursued relentlessly via a murderous slave hunter, monitoring canine, and ruthless ex-partisan rangers, the couple race via a gorgeous yet ruined land, surviving on meals they glean from deserted farms and the occasional kindness of strangers. finally, as they intersect with the hot destruction of Sherman's March, the couple search a secure haven the place they could make a house and start to rebuild their lives. Dramatic and thrillingly written with an uncanny eye for glimpses of good looks in a ravaged panorama, Fallen Land is a love tale at its middle, and an strangely guaranteed first novel via award-winning younger writer Taylor Brown.
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Additional info for Fallen Land: A Novel
Now not for any of this. “Now Mr. Sawyer, Esquire, whose head is it gonna carry them bounty of U. S. notes from that financial institution in long island? ” the lads appeared to lean towards him nearly imperceptibly, the timber, too. The solar itself so shut, the skinny guy may possibly think the speckling of sweat beneath his dermis. “The boy,” he acknowledged. “The boy will. ” * * * alongside the horizon earlier than them hung but extra towers of smoke, nonetheless as brushwork within the colorless wash of sky. Callum knew they need to be crossing the distance among parallel military columns advancing around the kingdom, crossing the no-man’s-land that divided them. They have been an evening and days hiking south alongside farm tracks and byroads that ran via sparse forests of pine the place the understory lay browned and fallen, via gigantic cotton fields with farmhouses ransacked via foraging events. Yards plagued by upturned furnishings and smashed china and bolts of calico and different cloth that fluttered like spent ghosts. Grounds perforated via ramrods seeking buried treasure, the outbuildings fired to coal-colored hulks, the ruins slowly disintegrating. lengthy whirls of ash have been carried off via cuts of wind, just like the whip of powder from snow-laden roofs. “I simply realized,” stated Ava. “What? ” “The genius of it. ” Callum seemed over his shoulder at her. Her eyes have been broad, staring. “Of what? ” “All this. Sherman. imagine: Nobody’s going to wish to struggle to any extent further, they don’t don't have anything to come back domestic to. ” Callum checked out a useless puppy via the facet of the line, shot, its tongue blue and stiff. “It’s hell is what it really is. ” Ava nodded. “Exactly. ” far and wide they observed basically ladies and blacks and the youngest of boys, as though a few plague had taken simply the lads. earlier than an unravaged abode they observed a mule-drawn cart piled with jumbles of family sundries to a top approximately comedian, an errant tower of mattress frames and grandfather clocks and ladder-back kitchen chairs cobbled jointly via abnormal lengths of rope and improvised knots. status prior to this ill-fated chariot, the refugees: a long-faced lady along with her forehead all shadowed less than her bonnet, her small boys beside her with sullen faces puffy and around. Little males who already bore a visual spite for the realm within which they discovered themselves. the 3 of them watched the 2 riders go through their land. They stood frozen, grim, as if posing for a daguerreotype. round them moved the blacks, their onetime slaves, aiding to load the wagon nonetheless greater. the only apple was once gone, and starvation not easy upon them now, a darkest coring of their bellies. on the other hand, they made no stream towards the farmhouse, the cart. whatever not easy within the faces of the lady, the men, deterred them. anything possibly the 2 riders carried of their personal faces, hammered visages of bone and flesh that floated in the course of the land just like the warfare mask of primeval clans, each one of them rival to all others. Callum watched the cart being loaded and his brain used to be choked with stratagems, predatory, of the way he may possibly carry them at gunpoint whereas Ava rifled their wallet for foodstuff, yanked open their cabinets and sacked their root cellar.