By Michael Wallace
In 1676, an not going pair—a younger Puritan widow and an English spy—journeys throughout a land the place greed and treachery abound.
Prudence Cotton has lately misplaced her husband and is desirous to locate her daughter, captured by way of the Nipmuk tribe in the course of King Philip’s warfare. She’s confident her daughter is alive yet can't song her into the barren region on my own. support arrives within the kind of James Bailey, an agent of the crown despatched to Boston to enquire the homicide of Prudence’s husband and to covertly reason a disturbance that will provide the king simply reason to put in royal governors. After his associate is murdered, James wishes aid too. He moves a take care of Prudence, and jointly they traverse the forbidding New England panorama searching for clues. What they confront within the wilderness—and what they observe approximately every one other—could perpetually swap their allegiances and change their destinies.
About the Author
Michael Wallace used to be born in California and raised in a small spiritual neighborhood in Utah, ultimately heading east to reside in Rhode Island and Vermont. as well as operating as a literary agent and innkeeper, he formerly labored as a software program engineer for a division of safeguard contractor, programming simulators for nuclear submarines. he's the writer of greater than twenty novels, together with the Wall road magazine bestselling sequence The Righteous, set in a polygamist enclave within the desolate tract.
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Extra resources for Crow Hollow
Thomas, you are incorrigible,” said Anne fondly. ” I nodded, having no idea what she meant. As we neared the Tower I stared up at the forbidding wall with its narrow slits. From the squared battlements protruded tall spikes topped with what looked like bundles of blackened rags. I squinted in order to see better. ” I asked, imitating Anne’s accent. She burst out laughing. “Yes, it is a menagerie—of criminals and traitors! ” Emme hissed. ” As I stared, the raglike bundles resolved themselves into skulls with torn flesh like strips of stiff leather.
What monstrous creatures were here? In the dimness I glimpsed the tawny hide of a beast straining against an iron collar, the fur around its face like a giant ruff, sharp teeth bared. Feeling my gorge rise with panic, I pushed my way out of the Tower and ran into the courtyard, gasping the damp air. All the way back to Whitehall, everyone talked of the queen’s menagerie. The roaring beast I had glimpsed was called a lion. The catlike wailing came from a leopard, one of four in an iron cage, Emme said.
I cannot, Your Majesty,” I replied, for I was trembling all over. “Without your gracious help,” I added. Then the queen took my wrists and lifted me to my feet. Her hands were slim, her fingers long and tapered. I counted four rings on each hand. “Do not fear to look upon me, child. Think of me as your mother now,” she said. It was a command, though softly spoken. I lifted up my eyes to meet hers. They were bright and pale. She smiled and it was like the sun beaming from behind a cloud. I no longer saw graying hair against her cheek.