By Eric Flint
FREEDOM AND JUSTICE -- AMERICAN variety
1632 And in northern Germany issues couldn't get a lot worse. Famine. sickness. Religous conflict laying waste the towns. basically the aristocrats remained really unscathed; for the peasants, loss of life used to be a mercy.
2000 issues are going okay in Grantville, West Virginia, and everyone attending the marriage of Mike Stearn's sister (including the total neighborhood bankruptcy of the United Mine staff of the United States, which Mike leads) is having a great time.
THEN, every little thing CHANGED....
whilst the dirt settles, Mike leads a bunch of armed miners to determine what occurred and unearths the line into city is reduce, as with a sword. at the different facet, a scene out of Hell: a guy nailed to a farmhouse door, his spouse and daughter attacked by means of males in metal vests. confronted with this, Mike and his associates don't need to ask who to shoot. At that second Freedom and Justice, American variety, are brought to the center of the Thirty Years' struggle.
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Additional resources for 1632 (The Assiti Shards, Book 1)
You travel light," she said. " She paused for a fast mile. " she asked. He nodded. " "Were you a good cop? " "Good enough, I guess. " She paused. " It felt like an interview. For a loan, or for a job. "They downsized me out of there," he said. " She nodded. "Like a town. If the population gets smaller, the police department gets smaller, too. Something to do with appropriations. " He said nothing. "I live in a very small town," she said. "Echo, south of Pecos, like I told you. It's a lonely place.
The guy had neither injury the night before. And Reacher had no idea the guy was a cop. He just looked like some idiot in a bar. Reacher had gone there because he heard the music was good, but it wasn't, so he had backed away from the band and ended up on a bar stool watching ESPN on a muted television fixed high on a wall. The place was crowded and noisy, and he was wedged in a space with a woman on his right and the heavyweight guy with the brush-cut on his left. He got bored with the sports and turned around to watch the room.
You must think I'm crazy," she said. He turned his head and looked hard at her, top to toe. Strong slim legs, strong slim arms, the expensive dress. It was riding up on her thighs, and he could see her bra strap at her shoulder. It was snow white against the color of her skin. She had clean combed hair and trimmed painted nails. An elegant, intelligent face, tired eyes. "I'm not crazy," she said. Then she looked straight at him. Something in her face. Maybe an appeal. Or maybe hopelessness, or desperation.
1632 (The Assiti Shards, Book 1) by Eric Flint