{"product_id":"dawn-on-a-distant-shore-isbn-9780553578553","title":"Dawn on a Distant Shore","description":"In an icy, untamed world of pristine beauty, a husband and wife are torn apart by fate but reunited forever by a love that can't be broken....\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAn unforgettable love comes alive in this masterful epic of passion, treachery, and adventure....\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAward-winning author Sara Donati's debut novel, \u003cb\u003eInto the Wilderness\u003c\/b\u003e, was hailed as \"one of those rare stories that let you breathe the air of another time\" (Diana Gabaldon). Now, in an eloquent blend of fact and fiction, Donati re-creates her beloved characters from \u003cb\u003eInto the Wilderness\u003c\/b\u003e in an enthralling new tale of romance and adventure.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eElizabeth and Nathaniel Bonner have settled into their life together at the edge of the New-York wilderness in the winter of 1794. But soon after Elizabeth gives birth to healthy twins, Nathaniel learns that his father has been arrested in British Canada. Forced to leave Hidden Wolf Mountain to help his father in Montreal, Nathaniel himself is imprisoned and in danger of being hanged as a spy. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn a desperate bid to save her husband, Elizabeth bundles her infants and sets out through the snowy wilderness and across treacherous waterways on the dangerous trek to Canada. But she soon discovers that freeing her husband will take every ounce of her courage and inventiveness — and will threaten her with the loss of what she loves most: her children. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTorn apart, the Bonners must embark on yet another perilous voyage, this time all the way across the ocean to the heart of Scotland, where a destiny they could never have imagined awaits them....\"Will keep readers up into the wee hours.\"—\u003ci\u003eOrlando Sentinel\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A story of epic proportions, akin to those wonderful wilderness classics by James Fenimore Cooper, but with the modern twist of a Diana Gabaldon.\"—\u003ci\u003eRomantic Times\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Masterfully weaves the evocative history of the founding of America with the powerful challenges faced by those, like the Bonners, who settled this new world.\"—\u003ci\u003eBookPage\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003eSara Donati\u003c\/b\u003e is the pen name of Rosina Lippi, a former academic and tenured university professor. Since 2000 she has been writing fiction full-time, haunting the intersection where history and storytelling meet, wallowing in nineteenth-century newspapers, magazines, street maps, and academic historical research. She is the internationally bestselling author of the Wilderness series (\u003ci\u003eInto the Wilderness\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eDawn on a Distant Shore\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eLake in the Clouds\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eFire Along the Sky\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eQueen of Swords\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eThe Endless Forest\u003c\/i\u003e) as well as \u003ci\u003eThe Gilded Hour\u003c\/i\u003e, the first in a new series following the descendants of characters from the Wilderness series. She lives between the Cascades and Puget Sound with her husband, daughter, Jimmy Dean (a Havanese), and Max and Bella (the cats).\u003cb\u003e1 February, 1794\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOn the edge of the New-York wilderness\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn the middle of a blizzard in the second half of the hardest, snowiest winter anyone in Paradise could remember, Elizabeth Middleton Bonner, sweat soaked, naked, and adrift in burning pain, wondered if she might just die of the heat.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOnce again she grabbed the leather straps tied to the bed frame to haul herself forward, and bore down with all her considerable strength.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Come, little one,\" sang the girl who crouched, waiting, at the foot of the bed. Her ten-year-old face was alight with excitement and fierce concentration, her bloodied hands outstretched, beckoning.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrom a basket before the warmth of the hearth came the high, keen wail of Elizabeth's firstborn: a daughter, just twenty minutes old.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Come, child,\" crooned Hannah. \"We are waiting for you.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eWe are all waiting for you.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn the grip of a contraction that threatened to set her on fire, Elizabeth bore down again and was rewarded with the blessed sight of a crowning head. With shaking fingers she touched the slick, wet curls and her own flesh, stretched drumtight: her body on the brink of splitting itself in two.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eOne last time, one last time, one last time.\u003c\/i\u003e She strained, feeling the child flex and turn, feeling its will, as strong as her own. Elizabeth blinked the sweat from her eyes and looked up to find Hannah's gaze fixed on her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Let him come,\" the girl said in Kahnyen'keh^ka. \"It is his time.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eElizabeth pushed. In a rush of fluid her son, blue-white and already howling, slid out into her stepdaughter's waiting hands. With a groan of relief and thanksgiving, Elizabeth collapsed backward.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor one sweet moment, the wailing of the newborns was louder than the scream of the blizzard rampaging through the Endless Forests. Their father was out there, trying to make his way home to them. With her arms crossed over the warm, squirming bundles Hannah laid against her skin, Elizabeth muttered a prayer for Nathaniel Bonner's safe delivery from the storm.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs Elizabeth labored, the small handful of farmers and trappers with the good sense to be stranded by the blizzard in Paradise's only tavern sat huddled over cards and ale, waiting out the weather. While the winds worked the rafters like starving wolves at a carcass, they told stories in easy, slurred voices, but they watched their cards and tankards and the long, straight back of the man who stood, motionless, at the window.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Strung as tight as my fiddle,\" muttered one of the card players. \"Say something to him, Axel.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAxel Metzler shrugged a shoulder in frustration, but he turned toward the window. \"Set down, Nathaniel, and have a drink. I broke out my best ale, here. And the storm won't be letting up for you staring at it.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Women will have babies at the worst times,\" announced the youngest of the men solemnly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Now, what would you know about it, Charlie? You got a wife hid away somewhere?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A man don't need a wife of his own to see that it's damn hard luck to have run into this weather.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe storm raised its voice as if to argue. The roof groaned in response, and a fine sifting of dust settled over the room and the uncovered tankards.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAxel plucked the pipe from his mouth in disgust and pointed his tattered white beard toward the heavens, exposing a long neck much like that of a plucked turkey. \"Shut up, you old Teufel! Quiet!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe winds howled once more, let out a longish whine, and fell silent. For a moment the men stared at each other and then Axel tucked his pipe back in the corner of his mouth with a satisfied grunt.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA woman appeared at the door from the living quarters just as the man at the window turned. The light of the fire threw his face into relief: half shadow, all worry, his high brow furrowed and his mouth pressed hard. In his hand was a crumpled sheet of paper, which he tucked into his shirt with one hand while he reached for his mantle with the other.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Curiosity?\" he asked, his voice hoarse with disuse.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I'm right here, Nathaniel.\" Long and wiry, straight backed in spite of her near sixty years, Curiosity Freeman moved briskly through the room, her skirts snapping and swirling. The hands adjusting the turban that towered above her head were deep brown against the sprigged fabric. She turned to a boy who sat near the fire, big boned, ginger haired, and pale with sleeplessness. \"You there, Liam Kirby. Look lively, now. You fetch me my snowshoes, will you?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe sprang up, rubbing his eyes. \"Yes'm.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAxel stood and stretched. \"Good luck, Nathaniel! Give Miz Elizabeth our best!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNathaniel raised a hand in acknowledgment. \"Thank you, Axel. Jed, I was supposed to send Martha Southern word, would you take care of that for me?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I will. Tomorrow we'll wet the child's head, proper like.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"We'll do that, God willing.\" Liam had gone out onto the porch, but the older woman hung back to put a hand on Nathaniel's arm. \"Elizabeth's strong, and Hannah's with her. That girl of yours has got the touch, you know that.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eShe's only ten years old.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNathaniel could see that thought sitting there in the troubled lines that bracketed Curiosity's mouth. \"Elizabeth asked for you. She wanted you.\" \u003ci\u003eAnd me. I should be there.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCuriosity squinted at him. Never the kind to offer false comfort, she nodded, and followed him outside.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eStrung out in single file with Nathaniel leading and Liam bringing up the rear, they left the village on snowshoes. They carried tin lanterns that cast dancing pinpricks of light over the new snow: a scattering of golden stars to match the fiery ones overhead. The night sky had been scrubbed clean; the moon was knife edged and cold, as cold as the air that stung the throat and nose.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNathaniel glanced over his shoulder now and then to gauge Curiosity's pace. Thus far she showed no signs of tiring, in spite of the late hour and interrupted sleep. \u003ci\u003eFrontier women, \u003c\/i\u003ehis father often said. \u003ci\u003eWhen one of their own is in need, they can set creation on its ear.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe had set out to fetch her almost twenty-four hours ago. She was his father-in-law's housekeeper, but Curiosity Freeman was more than that: Elizabeth's friend, and his own, the clearest head in the village and the closest thing Paradise had to a doctor since Richard Todd had decided to spend the winter in Johnstown; she had always been a better midwife, anyway. With a midwife's sense of timing, she had been ready for him, her basket packed. She wiped the flour from her hands and arms and passed the kneading over to her daughter, calling out to her husband, Galileo, that she was on her way. Judge Middleton was still abed, and they left without disturbing him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Let him sleep,\" she had said, strapping on her snowshoes. \"Ain't nothing a man can do to ease a daughter in labor anyways, and my Polly will see to his breakfast. Did you send Anna word? I'd be glad of her help, with the rest of your womenfolk away.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Liam's gone to fetch her.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Let's get moving, then. First children ain't usually in a hurry, but you never know.\"","brand":"Bantam","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46305413005541,"sku":"NP9780553578553","price":10.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780553578553.jpg?v=1767724768","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/dawn-on-a-distant-shore-isbn-9780553578553","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}