“It was night, and dogs came through the trees, unleashed and howling. They burst from the cover of the woods and their shadows swam across a moonlit field. For a moment, it was if her scent had torn like a cobweb and blown on the wind, shreds of it here and there useless. The dogs faltered and broke apart, yearning. Walking now stiff-legged, they ploughed the grass with their heavy snouts.”
This is the opening paragraph of a compelling tale of such rare delight I was reading it for the second time.
THE OUTLANDER, Gil Adamson’s debut novel is about a crime of passion and retribution. The year is 1903. Mary is nineeten years old and a widow by her own hand. Tracked by two gun slinging brothers bent on vengeance she is forced to move ever deeper into the unforgiving Canadian wilderness. On her desperate journey she encounters an intriguing and unforgettable collection of lascivious, greedy rogues, and the occasionally trustworthy guardian angel.
Gil Adamson is a Toronto based poet, and it shows in every beautifully written sentence. You want to linger, to enjoy each word, but this gripping story compels you to turn the page and read on and on.