Date Published:10-15-2021
Deserting his regiment in the aftermath of an injury, Torrent is just trying to get home to his fiancée without being robbed or arrested. Reporting the illegal saltpeter mine he finds on his return might be valuable enough for the army to overlook his truancy, perhaps even grant him a pension. If he’s willing to betray Molly to make that report.
For Molly, chemistry has always been more useful than magic, especially now that supplying the opposing side with gunpowder is the only thing keeping her from being ousted from her own farm. After two years apart, Molly knows it’s foolish to trust Torrent with either the mine or her heart. Unfortunately, Torrent’s not the only one interested in Coriander Hollow.
Between Torrent's desertion and her own illegal mine, Molly has to decide whose secrets she's willing to protect and how far she's willing to go to protect them. And Molly hadn't counted on Coriander Hollow having secrets of its own...
This is an adult fantasy novel, that might appeal to readers of Genevieve Cogman, Naomi Novik or Katherine Addison. It's historical fantasy-ish (I describe it as 'steampunk on a farm'), a little bit Cherie Priest meets Cold Mountain.
Excerpt
“Hello?” croaked Torrent, forcing the word past a lump in his
throat. The word repeated itself in echoes long past the time it should have
died away, as though the darkness had caught it and didn’t intend to let it go.
Torrent squeezed his eyes shut, listening hard as the echo finally died away.
Was it a whisper chamber? Some acoustic quality of the room?
Rational answers paled before the certainty that something deeply
irrational had lurched into motion the moment Danny had come after him with a
knife. The aim was murder then. No reason to think any differently now.
Torrent scrambled to his feet as quietly as he could. Feeling
along the wall behind him, the rock continued straight and unbroken for as high
as he could touch. Not climbable, even if he had the requisite limbs to attempt
it. He turned left, keeping his hand on the wall, sliding his feet forward over
the rough stone. The murmur of water was a wordless babble somewhere ahead of
him and farther down. Not that farther down was the direction he wanted to go,
but it was a landmark of sorts, and one that appeared to be getting closer.
Two more rocks slammed against the wall behind him. Torrent
flinched and sped up, stumbling along as fast as he could, bashing his fingers
against the wall, ignoring the panicked voice in his head telling him the next
volley might be leaded shot.
Torrent’s next step
ended in air. His whole vision went white as he fell, hand catching on a
jutting bit of rock, enough of a handhold to claw himself back from the edge. The
hem of his trousers snagged on something, pulling apart with a snick as he
dragged himself back over the ledge. The air was filling with the faint but
unmistakable smell of gunpowder. He gasped, trying to breathe through his
mouth, frighteningly aware he had no idea if he’d just saved himself from a
fall of three feet or thirty.
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