2021 new arrival A Breath of online Snow and Ashes new arrival (Outlander) sale

2021 new arrival A Breath of online Snow and Ashes new arrival (Outlander) sale

2021 new arrival A Breath of online Snow and Ashes new arrival (Outlander) sale
2021 new arrival A Breath of online Snow and Ashes new arrival (Outlander) sale__right

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Product Description

#1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • The sixth book in Diana Gabaldon’s acclaimed Outlander saga, the basis for the Starz original series. Don’t miss the new Outlander novel, Go Tell the Bees That I Am Gone, available November 23!

“The large scope of the novel allows Gabaldon to do what she does best, paint in exquisite detail the lives of her characters.”—Booklist

 
The year is 1772, and on the eve of the American Revolution, the long fuse of rebellion has already been lit. Men lie dead in the streets of Boston, and in the backwoods of North Carolina, isolated cabins burn in the forest.

With chaos brewing, the governor calls upon Jamie Fraser to unite the backcountry and safeguard the colony for King and Crown. But from his wife Jamie knows that three years hence the shot heard round the world will be fired, and the result will be independence—with those loyal to the King either dead or in exile. And there is also the matter of a tiny clipping from  The Wilmington Gazette, dated 1776, which reports Jamie’s death, along with his kin. For once, he hopes, his time-traveling family may be wrong about the future.

Review

“The sixth instalment of the adventures of Claire and Jamie Fraser, already number one on the bestseller list, is a whopping 980 pages of action-packed escapism. It also has surprisingly melancholy and insightful views on the experience of growing old and dealing with the losses that entails…. One of the things that sets Gabaldon apart from other romance writers is exhaustive research of the times in which her characters live, so evident in her attention to period detail…. plot lines and stand-alone yarns are expertly woven together with the overall theme of impending doom and the question of predetermination.” — Toronto Star

“Fans of Diana Gabaldon’s popular Outlander series have another rousing historical-science-fiction-romance novel to savour in A Breath of Snow and Ashes…. For fans, this book is another slam-dunk hit. It’s a massive, long-lasting source of entertainment.” — Gazette (Montreal)

From the Back Cover

Eagerly anticipated by her legions of fans, this sixth novel in Diana Gabaldon''s bestselling Outlander saga is a masterpiece of historical fiction from one of the most popular authors of our time.
Since the initial publication of Outlander fifteen years ago, Diana Gabaldon''s "New York Times bestselling saga has won the hearts of readers the world over -- and sold more than twelve million books. Now, A Breath of Snow and Ashes continues the extraordinary story of 18th-century Scotsman Jamie Fraser and his 20th-century wife, Claire.
The year is 1772, and on the eve of the American Revolution, the long fuse of rebellion has already been lit. Men lie dead in the streets of Boston, and in the backwoods of North Carolina, isolated cabins burn in the forest.
With chaos brewing, the governor calls upon Jamie Fraser to unite the backcountry and safeguard the colony for King and Crown. But from his wife Jamie knows that three years hence the shot heard round the world will be fired, and the result will be independence -- with those loyal to the King either dead or in exile. And there is also the matter of a tiny clipping from "The Wilmington Gazette, dated 1776, which reports Jamie''s death, along with his kin. For once, he hopes, his time-traveling family may be wrong about the future.

About the Author

Diana Gabaldon is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of the wildly popular Outlander novels— Outlander, Dragonfly in Amber, Voy­ager, Drums of Autumn, The Fiery Cross, A Breath of Snow and Ashes (for which she won a Quill Award and the Corine International Book Prize), An Echo in the Bone, Written in My Own Heart’s Blood, and Go Tell the Bees That I Am Gone—as well as the related Lord John Grey books, Lord John and the Private Matter, Lord John and the Brotherhood of the Blade, Lord John and the Hand of Devils, and The Scottish Prisoner; a collection of novellas, Seven Stones to Stand or Fall; three works of nonfiction, “I Give You My Body . . .” and The Outlandish Com­panion, Volumes 1 and 2; the Outlander graphic novel The Exile; and The Official Outlander Coloring Book. She lives in Scottsdale, Arizona, with her husband.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

DUTCH CABIN
March 1773

No one had known the cabin was there, until Kenny Lindsay had seen the flames, on his way up the creek.

“I wouldna ha’ seen at all,” he said, for perhaps the sixth time. “Save for the dark comin’ on. Had it been daylight, I’d never ha’ kent it, never.” He wiped a trembling hand over his face, unable to take his eyes off the line of bodies that lay at the edge of the forest. “Was it savages, Mac Dubh? They’re no scalped, but maybe—”

“No.” Jamie laid the soot-smeared handkerchief gently back over the staring blue face of a small girl. “None of them is wounded. Surely ye saw as much when ye brought them out?”

Lindsay shook his head, eyes closed, and shivered convulsively. It was late afternoon, and a chilly spring day, but the
men were all sweating. “I didna look,” he said simply. My own hands were like ice; as numb and unfeeling as the
rubbery flesh of the dead woman I was examining. They had been dead for more than a day; the rigor of death had passed off, leaving them limp and chilled, but the cold weather of the mountain spring had preserved them so far from the grosser indignities of putrefaction. Still, I breathed shallowly; the air was bitter with the scent of burning. Wisps of steam rose now and then from the charred ruin of the tiny cabin. From the corner of my eye, I saw Roger kick at a nearby log, then bend and pick up something from the ground beneath. Kenny had pounded on our door long before daylight, summoning us from warm beds. We had come in haste, even knowing that we were far too late to offer aid. Some of the tenants from the homesteads on Fraser’s Ridge had come, too; Kenny’s brother Evan stood with Fergus and Ronnie Sinclair in a small knot under the trees, talking together in low-voiced Gaelic.

“D’ye ken what did for them, Sassenach?” Jamie squatted beside me, face troubled. “The ones under the trees, that is.”

He nodded at the corpse in front of me. “I ken what killed this puir woman.”

The woman’s long skirt stirred in the wind, lifting to show long, slender feet shod in leather clogs. A pair of long hands
to match lay still at her sides. She had been tall—though  not so tall as Brianna, I thought, and looked automatically for my daughter’s bright hair, bobbing among the branches on the far side of the clearing. I had turned the woman’s apron up to cover her head and upper body. Her hands were red, rough-knuckled with work, and with callused palms, but from the firmness of her thighs and the slenderness of her body, I thought she was no more than thirty—likely much younger. No one could say whether she had been pretty.

I shook my head at his remark.

“I don’t think she died of the burning,” I said. “See, her legs and feet aren’t touched. She must have fallen into the
hearth. Her hair caught fire, and it spread to the shoulders of her gown. She must have lain near enough to the wall or the chimney hood for the flames to touch; that caught, and then the whole bloody place went up.”

Jamie nodded slowly, eyes on the dead woman.

“Aye, that makes sense. But what was it killed them, Sassenach? The others are singed a bit, though none are burned like this. But they must have been dead before the cabin caught alight, for none o’ them ran out. Was it a deadly illness, perhaps?”

“I don’t think so. Let me look at the others again.”

I walked slowly down the row of still bodies with their cloth-covered faces, stooping over each one to peer again beneath the makeshift shrouds. There were any number of illnesses that could be quickly fatal in these days—with no
antibiotics to hand, and no way of administering fluids save by mouth or rectum, a simple case of diarrhea could kill
within twenty-four hours.

I saw such things often enough to recognize them easily; any doctor does, and I had been a doctor for more than twenty years. I saw things now and then in this century that I had never encountered in my own—particularly horrible parasitical diseases, brought with the slave trade from the tropics— but it was no parasite that had done for these poor souls, and no illness that I knew, to leave such traces on its victims. All the bodies—the burned woman, a much older woman, and three children—had been found inside the walls of the flaming house. Kenny had pulled them out, just before the roof fell in, then ridden for help. All dead before the fire started; all dead virtually at the same time, then, for surely the fire had begun to smolder soon after the woman fell dead on her hearth?

The victims had been laid out neatly under the branches of a giant red spruce, while the men began to dig a grave
nearby. Brianna stood by the smallest girl, her head bent. I came to kneel by the little body, and she knelt down across from me.

“What was it?” she asked quietly. “Poison?”

I glanced up at her in surprise.

“I think so. What gave you that idea?”

She nodded at the blue-tinged face below us. She had tried to close the eyes, but they bulged beneath the lids, giving the little girl a look of startled horror. The small, blunt features were twisted in a rictus of agony, and there were traces of vomit in the corners of the mouth.

“Girl Scout handbook,” Brianna said. She glanced at the men, but no one was near enough to hear. Her mouth twitched, and she looked away from the body, holding out her open hand. “Never eat any strange mushroom,” she quoted.

“There are many poisonous varieties, and distinguishing one from another is a job for an expert. Roger found these, growing in a ring by that log over there.”

Moist, fleshy caps, a pale brown with white warty spots, the open gills and slender stems so pale as to look almost
phosphorescent in the spruce shadows. They had a pleasant, earthy look to them that belied their deadliness.

“Panther toadstools,” I said, half to myself, and picked one gingerly from her palm. “Agaricus pantherinus—or that’s
what they will be called, once somebody gets round to naming them properly. Pantherinus, because they kill so swiftly— like a striking cat.”

I could see the gooseflesh ripple on Brianna’s forearm, raising the soft, red-gold hairs. She tilted her hand and spilled the rest of the deadly fungus on the ground.

“Who in their right mind would eat toadstools?” she asked, wiping her hand on her skirt with a slight shudder.

“People who didn’t know better. People who were hungry, perhaps,” I answered softly. I picked up the little girl’s hand,
and traced the delicate bones of the forearm. The small belly showed signs of bloat, whether from malnutrition or postmortem changes I couldn’t tell—but the collarbones were sharp as scythe blades. All of the bodies were thin, though not to the point of emaciation.

I looked up, into the deep blue shadows of the mountainside above the cabin. It was early in the year for foraging, but there was food in abundance in the forest—for those who could recognize it.

Jamie came and knelt down beside me, a big hand lightly on my back. Cold as it was, a trickle of sweat streaked his
neck, and his thick auburn hair was dark at the temples.

“The grave is ready,” he said, speaking low, as though he might alarm the child. “Is that what’s killed the bairn?” He
nodded at the scattered fungi. “I think so—and the rest of them, too. Have you had a look around? Does anyone know who they were?”

He shook his head.

“Not English; the clothes are wrong. Germans would have gone to Salem, surely; they’re clannish souls, and no inclined to settle on their own. These were maybe Dutchmen.” He nodded toward the carved wooden clogs on the old woman’s feet, cracked and stained with long use. “No books nor writing left, if there was any to begin with. Nothing that might tell their name. But—”

“They hadn’t been here long.” A low, cracked voice made me look up. Roger had come; he squatted next to Brianna, nodding toward the smoldering remains of the cabin. A small garden plot had been scratched into the earth nearby, but the few plants showing were no more than sprouts, the tender leaves limp and blackened with late frost. There were no sheds, no sign of livestock, no mule or pig.

“New emigrants,” Roger said softly. “Not bond servants; this was a family. They weren’t used to outdoor labor, either;
the women’s hands have blisters and fresh scars.” His own broad hand rubbed unconsciously over a homespun knee; his palms were as smoothly callused as Jamie’s now, but he had once been a tender-skinned scholar; he remembered the pain of his seasoning.

“I wonder if they left people behind—in Europe,” Brianna murmured. She smoothed blond hair off the little girl’s forehead, and laid the kerchief back over her face. I saw her throat move as she swallowed. “They’ll never know what happened to them.”

“No.” Jamie stood abruptly. “They do say that God protects fools—but I think even the Almighty will lose patience
now and then.” He turned away, motioning to Lindsay and Sinclair.

“Look for the man,” he said to Lindsay. Every head jerked up to look at him.

“Man?” Roger said, and then glanced sharply at the burned remnants of the cabin, realization dawning. “Aye—
who built the cabin for them?”

“The women could have done it,” Bree said, lifting her chin.

“You could, aye,” he said, mouth twitching slightly as he cast a sidelong look at his wife. Brianna resembled Jamie in
more than coloring; she stood six feet in her stockings and had her father’s clean-limbed strength.

“Perhaps they could, but they didn’t,” Jamie said shortly. He nodded toward the shell of the cabin, where a few bits of
furniture still held their fragile shapes. As I watched, the evening wind came down, scouring the ruin, and the shadow
of a stool collapsed noiselessly into ash, flurries of soot and char moving ghostlike over the ground.

“What do you mean?” I stood and moved beside him, looking into the house. There was virtually nothing left inside, though the chimney stack still stood, and jagged bits of the walls remained, their logs fallen like jackstraws.

“There’s no metal,” he said, nodding at the blackened hearth, where the remnants of a cauldron lay, cracked in two
from the heat, its contents vaporized. “No pots, save that— and that’s too heavy to carry away. Nay tools. Not a knife, not an ax—and ye see whoever built it had that.”

I did; the logs were unpeeled, but the notches and ends bore the clear marks of an ax. Frowning, Roger picked up a long pine branch and began to poke through the piles of ash and rubble, looking to be sure. Kenny Lindsay and Sinclair didn’t bother; Jamie had told them to look for a man, and they promptly went to do so, disappearing into the forest. Fergus went with them; Evan Lindsay, his brother Murdo, and the McGillivrays began the chore of collecting stones for a cairn.

“If there was a man—did he leave them?” Brianna murmured to me, glancing from her father to the row of bodies. "Did this woman maybe think they wouldn’t survive on their own?”

And thus take her own life, and those of her children, to avoid a long-drawn-out death from cold and starvation?

“Leave them and take all their tools? God, I hope not.”

I crossed myself at the thought, though even as I did so, I doubted it. “Wouldn’t they have walked out, looking for help? Even with children . . . the snow’s mostly gone.” Only the highest mountain passes were still packed with snow, and while the trails and slopes were wet and muddy with runoff, they’d been passable for a month, at least.

“I’ve found the man,” Roger said, interrupting my thoughts. He spoke very calmly, but paused to clear his throat. “Just— just here.”

The daylight was beginning to fade, but I could see that he had gone pale. No wonder; the curled form he had unearthed beneath the charred timbers of a fallen wall was sufficiently gruesome as to give anyone pause. Charred to blackness, hands upraised in the boxer’s pose so common to those dead by fire, it was difficult even to be sure that it was a man— though I thought it was, from what I could see.

Speculation about this new body was interrupted by a shout from the forest’s edge.

“We’ve found them, milord!”

Everyone looked up from contemplation of this new corpse, to see Fergus waving from the edge of the wood.

“Them,” indeed. Two men, this time. Sprawled on the ground within the shadow of the trees, found not together, but
not far apart, only a short distance from the house. And both, so far as I could tell, probably dead of mushroom poisoning.

“That’s no Dutchman,” Sinclair said, for probably the fourth time, shaking his head over one body.

“He might be,” said Fergus dubiously. He scratched his nose with the tip of the hook he wore in replacement of his
left hand. “From the Indies, non?” One of the unknown bodies was in fact that of a black man. The other was white, and both wore nondescript clothes of worn homespun—shirts and breeches; no jackets, despite the cold weather. And both were barefoot.

“No.” Jamie shook his head, rubbing one hand unconsciously on his own breeches, as though to rid himself of the
touch of the dead. “The Dutch keep slaves on Barbuda, aye—but these are better fed than the folk from the cabin.” He lifted his chin toward the silent row of women and children. “They didna live here. Besides . . .” I saw his eyes fix on the dead men’s feet. The feet were grubby about the ankles and heavily callused, but basically clean. The soles of the black man’s feet showed yellowish pink, with no smears of mud or random leaves stuck between the toes. These men hadn’t been walking through the muddy forest barefoot, that much was sure.

“So there were perhaps more men? And when these died, their companions took their shoes—and anything else of
value”—Fergus added practically, gesturing from the burned cabin to the stripped bodies—“and fled.”

“Aye, maybe.” Jamie pursed his lips, his gaze traveling slowly over the earth of the yard—but the ground was churned with footsteps, clumps of grass uprooted and the whole of the yard dusted with ash and bits of charred wood. It looked as though the place had been ravaged by rampaging hippopotami.

“I could wish that Young Ian was here. He’s the best of the trackers; he could maybe tell what happened there, at least.”

He nodded into the wood, where the men had been found.

“How many there were, maybe, and which way they’ve gone.”

Jamie himself was no mean tracker. But the light was going fast now; even in the clearing where the burned cabin
stood, the dark was rising, pooling under the trees, creeping like oil across the shattered earth.

His eyes went to the horizon, where streamers of cloud were beginning to blaze with gold and pink as the sun set behind them, and he shook his head.

“Bury them. Then we’ll go.”

One more grim discovery remained. Alone among the dead, the burned man had not died of fire or poison. When
they lifted the charred corpse from the ashes to bear him to his grave, something fell free of the body, landing with a
small, heavy thunk on the ground. Brianna picked it up, and rubbed at it with the corner of her apron.

“I guess they overlooked this,” she said a little bleakly, holding it out. It was a knife, or the blade of one. The wooden hilt had burned entirely away, and the blade itself was warped with heat.

Steeling myself against the thick, acrid stench of burned fat and flesh, I bent over the corpse, poking gingerly at the
midsection. Fire destroys a great deal, but preserves the strangest things. The triangular wound was quite clear, seared in the hollow beneath his ribs.

“They stabbed him,” I said, and wiped my sweating hands on my own apron.

“They killed him,” Bree said, watching my face. “And then his wife—” She glanced at the young woman on the ground,
the concealing apron over her head. “She made a stew with the mushrooms, and they all ate it. The children, too.”

The clearing was silent, save for the distant calls of birds on the mountain. I could hear my own heart, beating painfully in my chest. Vengeance? Or simple despair?

“Aye, maybe,” Jamie said quietly. He stooped to pick up an end of the sheet of canvas they had placed the dead man on. “We’ll call it accident.”

The Dutchman and his family were laid in one grave, the two strangers in another. A cold wind had sprung up as the sun went down; the apron fluttered away from the woman’s face as they lifted her. Sinclair gave a strangled cry of shock, and nearly dropped her.

She had neither face nor hair anymore; the slender waist narrowed abruptly into charred ruin. The flesh of her head
had burned away completely, leaving an oddly tiny, blackened skull, from which her teeth grinned in disconcerting levity. They lowered her hastily into the shallow grave, her children and mother beside her, and left Brianna and me to
build a small cairn over them, in the ancient Scottish way, to mark the place and provide protection from wild beasts,
while a more rudimentary resting place was dug for the two barefoot men.

The work finally done, everyone gathered, white-faced and silent, around the new-made mounds. I saw Roger stand close beside Brianna, his arm protectively about her waist. A small shudder went through her, which I thought had nothing to do with the cold. Their child, Jemmy, was a year or so younger than the smallest girl.

“Will ye speak a word, Mac Dubh?” Kenny Lindsay glanced inquiringly at Jamie, pulling his knitted bonnet down over his ears against the growing chill. It was nearly nightfall, and no one wanted to linger. We would have to make camp, somewhere well away from the stink of burning, and that would be hard enough, in the dark. But Kenny was right; we couldn’t leave without at least some token of ceremony, some farewell for the strangers. Jamie shook his head.

“Nay, let Roger Mac speak. If these were Dutchmen, belike they were Protestant.”

Dim as the light was, I saw the sharp glance Brianna shot at her father. It was true that Roger was a Presbyterian; so was Tom Christie, a much older man whose dour face reflected his opinion of the proceedings. The question of religion was no more than a pretext, though, and everyone knew it, including Roger. Roger cleared his throat with a noise like tearing calico. It was always a painful sound; there was anger in it now as well. He didn’t protest, though, and he met Jamie’s eyes straight on, as he took his place at the head of the grave. I had thought he would simply say the Lord’s Prayer, or perhaps one of the gentler psalms. Other words came to him, though.

“Behold, I cry out of wrong, but I am not heard: I cry aloud, but there is no judgment. He hath fenced up my way
that I cannot pass, and He hath set darkness in my paths.”

His voice had once been powerful, and beautiful. It was choked now, no more than a rasping shadow of its former
beauty—but there was sufficient power in the passion with which he spoke to make all those who heard him bow their
heads, faces lost in shadow. “He hath stripped me of my glory, and taken the crown from my head. He hath destroyed me on every side, and I am gone: and my hope hath He removed like a tree.” His face was set, but his eyes rested for a bleak moment on the charred stump that had served the Dutch family for a chopping block. “He hath put my brethren far from me, and mine acquaintance are verily estranged from me. My kinsfolk have failed,
and my familiar friends have forgotten me.” I saw the three Lindsay brothers exchange glances, and everyone drew a little closer together, against the rising wind.

“Have pity upon me, have pity upon me, O ye my friends,” he said, and his voice softened, so that it was difficult to hear him, above the sighing of the trees. “For the hand of God has touched me.”

Brianna made a slight movement beside him, and he cleared his throat once more, explosively, stretching his neck so that I caught a glimpse of the rope scar that marred it. “Oh, that my words were now written! Oh, that they were
printed in a book! That they were graven with an iron pen and lead in the rock forever!”

He looked slowly round from face to face, his own expressionless, then took a deep breath to continue, voice cracking
on the words.

“For I know that my redeemer liveth, and that He shall stand at the latter day upon the earth: And though after my skin worms destroy this body”—Brianna shuddered convulsively, and looked away from the raw mound of dirt—“yet in my flesh shall I see God. Whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold.”

He stopped, and there was a brief collective sigh, as everyone let out the breath they had been holding. He wasn’t quite finished, though. He had reached out, half-unconsciously, for Bree’s hand, and held it tightly. He spoke the last words almost to himself, I thought, with little thought for his listeners.

“Be ye afraid of the sword: for wrath bringeth the punishments of the sword, that ye may know there is a judgment.”
I shivered, and Jamie’s hand curled round my own, cold but strong. He looked down at me, and I met his eyes. I knew what he was thinking.

He was thinking, as I was, not of the present, but the future. Of a small item that would appear three years hence, in the pages of the Wilmington Gazette, dated February 13, 1776. It is with grief that the news is received of the deaths by fire of James MacKenzie Fraser and his wife, Claire Fraser, in a conflagration that destroyed their house in the settlement of Fraser’s Ridge, on the night of January 21 last. Mr. Fraser, a nephew of the late Hector Cameron of River Run Plantation, was born at Broch Tuarach in Scotland. He was widely known in the Colony and deeply respected; he leaves no surviving children. It had been easy, so far, not to think too much of it. So far in the future, and surely not an unchangeable future—after all, forewarned was forearmed . . . wasn’t it? I glanced at the shallow cairn, and a deeper chill passed through me. I stepped closer to Jamie, and put my other hand on his arm. He covered my hand with his, and squeezed tight in reassurance. No, he said to me silently. No, I will not let it happen.

As we left the desolate clearing, though, I could not free my mind of one vivid image. Not the burned cabin, the pitiful
bodies, the pathetic dead garden. The image that haunted me was one I had seen some years before—a gravestone in the ruins of Beauly Priory, high in the Scottish Highlands.

It was the tomb of a noble lady, her name surmounted by the carving of a grinning skull—very like the one beneath the Dutchwoman’s apron. Beneath the skull was her motto: Hodie mihi cras tibi—sic transit gloria mundi. My turn today—yours tomorrow. Thus passes the glory of the world.

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4.8 out of 54.8 out of 5
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Top reviews from the United States

Nicholas Restivo
1.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Why NO audible version available???!!!
Reviewed in the United States on July 8, 2018
Why is the audible version of this book not available on Kindle? It is THE ONLY book in the series that doesn''t have the option to purchase it audibly as well. (Of course, I will change the rating to 5-Stars once this is corrected and audible is available for... See more
Why is the audible version of this book not available on Kindle? It is THE ONLY book in the series that doesn''t have the option to purchase it audibly as well.

(Of course, I will change the rating to 5-Stars once this is corrected and audible is available for it.)
193 people found this helpful
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Kindle Customer
2.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Starting to read like the Perils of Pauline.
Reviewed in the United States on November 2, 2017
Well, I think this will be my last Outlander book. I started reading them when the first one had just come out and loved it. The next few were also good. Gabaldon is quite a good writer and has a way with words that I really enjoy but this book and the one before it... See more
Well, I think this will be my last Outlander book. I started reading them when the first one had just come out and loved it. The next few were also good. Gabaldon is quite a good writer and has a way with words that I really enjoy but this book and the one before it aren''t novels, they are a group of vignettes so sewn together with such a thin thread that I don''t plan to waste my time on any more of them. I love a good long book that I can really get into but 1500 pages of short stories is not what I had in mind. Plus, its starting to feel like I''m reading the Perils of Pauline, just one trauma after another. The book could easily been cut by more than half and had movement to it, instead, I got so tired of reading it that I began speed reading and skimming the last several hundred pages. This isn''t like me at all, I love to read and have loved these books but I''ve had enough. If I really want to know what happens to the Frasers then I''ll watch the TV series but frankly, I don''t care anymore. This in itself is a shame because Gabaldon is such a talented writer, she is extremely readable and her attention to detail and historical research is so impressive although she needs to do a little more ornithological research (you don''t find mockingbirds and balsam firs at the same altitude). But that is a minor complaint. I have read other reviews and have seen that other people have the same problems I have with these last books. Take note, Diana!!!
109 people found this helpful
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Cathryn Conroy
5.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
A Delicious Delight!
Reviewed in the United States on February 1, 2017
Oh, what a delicious delight! This is the sixth book in the "Outlander" series by Diana Gabaldon and we find our favorite time traveler, Claire Fraser, living with Jamie on Fraser Ridge in North Carolina in 1772 through 1776 with the American Revolution hovering in... See more
Oh, what a delicious delight! This is the sixth book in the "Outlander" series by Diana Gabaldon and we find our favorite time traveler, Claire Fraser, living with Jamie on Fraser Ridge in North Carolina in 1772 through 1776 with the American Revolution hovering in the background--and sometimes the foreground. I think this is the best of the bunch since "Outlander," the first and by far the best in the series. And while you will learn a bit of American history, the book is primarily an 18th century soap opera. And what fun it is! We have kidnappings, murder, revenge, the scandal of unwed pregnancies, wayward young men, fires, hangings, more kidnappings, more fires...you name it.

The incredibly addictive soap opera plot aside, this book--as are the others in the series--is really about love, honor and duty. Love for family, love for country, the honor of the clan, the duty to serve others. Reading between the lines, it''s advice on how we should live.

A word of warning: You must begin with "Outlander" and work your way through the series in the proper order. Taking this on is quite a reading and time commitment. The books are all long. Very long. "A Breath of Snow and Ashes" checks in at more than 1,400 pages. But they are SO GOOD! This is the ultimate in escapist reading. And when you realize how good it is and wish it would never end...well, it''s so long it almost doesn''t.
60 people found this helpful
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Parker B.
2.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Disappointed, will not be finishing the book or series
Reviewed in the United States on February 12, 2016
I have read all of the previous books in this series and loved them, but had to put this one down for good. To be quite frank, there''s a lot of really explicit rape in this book, and it''s unnecessary and uncomfortable. The plot is not advanced at all. As always, Gabaldon''s... See more
I have read all of the previous books in this series and loved them, but had to put this one down for good. To be quite frank, there''s a lot of really explicit rape in this book, and it''s unnecessary and uncomfortable. The plot is not advanced at all. As always, Gabaldon''s writing is pleasant to read, but the content is what was lacking for me. I''m about halfway through and have stuck it on my bookshelf. Part of me wants to know what happens to Claire and Jamie, Bri and Roger, but if I had to read about one more character getting sexually assaulted I was going to be physically ill. Gabaldon should also realize that, with the astronomically high rates of sexual assault, a book including rape scene after rape scene wouldn''t go over well.
72 people found this helpful
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Snowfox
5.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
I am Completely Hooked
Reviewed in the United States on October 11, 2018
Diana Gabaldon''s story-telling is a vast adventure into a historical experience of the world. Her characters are by now like family members I care about deeply. My husband and I are reading these books out loud, so we savor the narrative as if it is unfolding in our own... See more
Diana Gabaldon''s story-telling is a vast adventure into a historical experience of the world. Her characters are by now like family members I care about deeply. My husband and I are reading these books out loud, so we savor the narrative as if it is unfolding in our own life. Then, watching the series on Amazon/Starz is the icing on the cake; the actors chosen to portray Claire and Jamie are heart-breakingly perfect for the roles. We are reading our way through all 8 books in this series, and loving it. I must say, she does have a terrible ability to describe gory details and gets over the top in descriptions of crimes at times for my taste, but ultimately she is describing a historical period of swash-buckling violence. So, maybe the detailed descriptions point out the reality of the violence - from the victim''s view, for what that is worth. She also writes about sex from the woman''s perspective as well, which is really amazing and unusual for most writers I have read. These characters are flawed - and it becomes frustrating - but then one has to remember that we all are. I find myself annoyed with the narrative only to return to it and develop insight, move on, and become reengaged.
20 people found this helpful
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FAIRYmAMA
5.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Book 6 long but did not Disapoint
Reviewed in the United States on August 9, 2016
The Outlander series is a commitment and a journey into history with some fantasy and detailed living in very hard times. Book #6 of 8 was a long book (approx 1400 pages). I read on my Kindle and have the mobile app so I can read wherever I am. Book 6 is set in the... See more
The Outlander series is a commitment and a journey into history with some fantasy and detailed living in very hard times. Book #6 of 8 was a long book (approx 1400 pages). I read on my Kindle and have the mobile app so I can read wherever I am. Book 6 is set in the beginning forming of America. While very exciting read there are some not so exciting parts about how people settled from other countries and the blending of religions and beliefs. Food, medical attention, and shelter and also in discussed in detail which may be boring to some readers, but I find it very helpful in understanding why history evolved as it did back in the 1700''s. I loved this book and have started book #7. The author and her team have done extensive research to keep this fictional story on track with the documented history events as they happened. A lot of respect to Diana Gabaldon and her team for writing these wonderful books. Enjoy!! PEACE
44 people found this helpful
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S. Makela
5.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Off You Go Into the 18th Century with Diana Gabaldon & Davina Porter -- Hold on because the ride is WONDERFUL!!
Reviewed in the United States on March 31, 2018
Diana Gabaldon, author and Davina Porter, narrator have held me in her "Outlander" series story from book one. I have been transported into her world. I''m now on good 7 of 8 and I am grieving the end. I admit to watching the Outlander series on STARZ TV before... See more
Diana Gabaldon, author and Davina Porter, narrator have held me in her "Outlander" series story from book one. I have been transported into her world. I''m now on good 7 of 8 and I am grieving the end. I admit to watching the Outlander series on STARZ TV before beginning the novel. I RECOMMEND listening to the Audible Audio books rather than reading them yourself. Davina Porter, Narrator, brings the story to life. I have been listening to audio books and have been a member of Audible since the1990s and I have never heard a narrator as good as Davina Porter. My plan is to register to all of the books AGAIN to catch anything I may have missed!!

Although there is wonderful romance in this series, the romance is not the primary theme. As the series progresses, the characters mature. At first, Claire got on my nerves as she did not know how to control her mouth which always got her in trouble. She definitely matures out of this as we all should after our 20s. I am definitely going to look for additional Diana Gabaldon books and plan to follow Davina Porter individually as her narrations will, I suspect, bring any book to life.
15 people found this helpful
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Alicia
2.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Not in line with a novel that finds its way...
Reviewed in the United States on May 12, 2017
Disjointed read and way to descriptive of things that are so repetitive it makes it ridiculous reading. I love , Dickens, Irving- kings of going overboard with descriptions but this was just an atrocity. I wish she''d use and editor for at least these kinds of things.... See more
Disjointed read and way to descriptive of things that are so repetitive it makes it ridiculous reading. I love , Dickens, Irving- kings of going overboard with descriptions but this was just an atrocity. I wish she''d use and editor for at least these kinds of things.

While I love the characters and have grown attached and the historical accuracy and admire the research therein- the only great novels of the series were Outlander and The Drums of Autumn.

Too bad. I was so hoping this to be a better read.

E
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Kindle Customer
2.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Plodding
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on July 5, 2019
Having read the other books, I can honestly say that though I enjoyed the first three they are now becoming more and more tedious. I''ve stuck with them but constantly find myself skipping pages. The books are so long because the author goes into far to much unnecessary...See more
Having read the other books, I can honestly say that though I enjoyed the first three they are now becoming more and more tedious. I''ve stuck with them but constantly find myself skipping pages. The books are so long because the author goes into far to much unnecessary detail about battles, medical and scientific matters. The characters seem to get to get forgotten and lost in all of this. It''s as if they have become an afterthought. It''s also becoming repetitive. Apparently in Echo in the Bone, Claire once again thinks Jaimie is dead, this time she marries John Gray! She is writing these thick novels, but the characters don''t seem to move forward much. I''m debating whether to read Echo in the Bone, I think I''ll just continue to watch the television series, much more enjoyable so far. But seriously Diana Gabaldon needs to move the characters forward and bring Clair and Jaimie''s story to it''s conclusion.
10 people found this helpful
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Suzi Hawkins
4.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Good but still too long
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on November 26, 2018
Just like the book before, which was book 5, book 6 feels too long and again needed editing. There were a lot of little mini-chapters, which were a little frustrating and which felt like they were in-fill for the book and didn''t lead anywhere. If they were going to lead...See more
Just like the book before, which was book 5, book 6 feels too long and again needed editing. There were a lot of little mini-chapters, which were a little frustrating and which felt like they were in-fill for the book and didn''t lead anywhere. If they were going to lead somewhere later there usually felt insufficient depth to deliver this. Once these mini-chapters closed, in many instances, we quickly pushed onto another incident, leaving the previous one unfinished. I feel there is so much unsaid by the characters, yet there is superficial in-fill within the book, pages of it. Loads of history, which I do love but also so many incoming characters that no one could possibly remember. The plot has become very contrived over the last two books. In this book''s favour, I feel there is a lot of history and showing a great deal of interest in the changes in America and how it has become what it is today. I can see why there is still a gun issue there to this day. This is a country still hotly developing and its had to do this quickly as the world shrunk. So, I am grateful to have been given this insight through the words of this book. America was basically lawless for most of its early life and trying to create a cohesive lawful country isn''t easy where it stood in the timing of America coming into being. I have loved seeing America grow through the last two books have particularly enjoyed the great insights Diana has brought to the pages. The Characters are the push and pull of the story, which twists and turns. It is total fantasy placed in the middle of a rising nation. A great place for this story to run. I do still have problems with these short in-fill chapters. What we have are great and painful things happening (don''t want to give anything away) that don''t seem to continue through, for much of the time and this is set against masses and masses of detail that is, fairly often, insignificant to the rest of the book. I would have liked more follow through on most of the intrigue and tangles that the characters got themselves into. They never really seem to talk about the deeper important things. This is only thrown in here and there. I crave much more of this deep talk. So much keeping feelings to themselves, sometimes for years!! A character I do love is Lizzy and her outcome in this book. It made me laugh so much. What was made plain is that this is a time that people just got strung up, hanged, for little reason? Sometimes to get rid of an irritating neighbour. These are fast-moving times, people coming and then disappearing out of the book. I rather like that. If the detail gets too much I now skip bits but Diana sometimes hides little gems within the laborious detail, so be warned, you could miss something important if you skip some of the narratives.
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Amy Reads Books
5.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
I cried, I laughed, I loved.
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on March 15, 2017
If you judge a book by its ''re-readability'' then this is a great book. I''ve read it four times, which is saying a lot as this is an 800+ page novel. Obviously, it''s book six in the Outlander series, so you know what you''re getting from Gabaldon by now. I was swept away by...See more
If you judge a book by its ''re-readability'' then this is a great book. I''ve read it four times, which is saying a lot as this is an 800+ page novel. Obviously, it''s book six in the Outlander series, so you know what you''re getting from Gabaldon by now. I was swept away by the descriptions and the enduring love of Jaime and Claire and their life together on Fraser''s Ridge. I learned a lot about the American War of Independence, too. I cried, I laughed, I loved.
16 people found this helpful
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Jo
5.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Outlandish Series
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on February 10, 2019
I have been reading and re-reading Diana Gabaldon''s Outlander books since I discovered Cross Stitch in the 1980''s. I love the history and the connection between the characters. Over the years as I read them again I discover new things about them. I have seen other reviews...See more
I have been reading and re-reading Diana Gabaldon''s Outlander books since I discovered Cross Stitch in the 1980''s. I love the history and the connection between the characters. Over the years as I read them again I discover new things about them. I have seen other reviews and note that other readers feel the same. Yes, I have them in books, but now they are collected together on my Kindle. I am once again working my way through them, and as I finish one book I can''t wait to start the next. Would I recommend them. Yes. If you like romance, history and a bit of fantasy time travel, I believe you will fall in love with the Outlander series.
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Nesscafé
3.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
So many tangents
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on January 2, 2021
This book kept me interested, in spite of it''s enormous size (at approx 1500 pages) though I think it would really benefit from fewer tangents. Just when I feel myself enthralled in one story, I''m then hurtled into another, seemingly unrelated tale that will no doubt have...See more
This book kept me interested, in spite of it''s enormous size (at approx 1500 pages) though I think it would really benefit from fewer tangents. Just when I feel myself enthralled in one story, I''m then hurtled into another, seemingly unrelated tale that will no doubt have relevance in a future novel, but that didn''t add to the overall narrative of the one I was reading. I will say there is a great sense of character and of place.
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SEVEN STONES TO STAND OR FALL THE OFFICIAL OUTLANDER COLORING BOOK THE OUTLANDISH COMPANION THE OUTLANDISH COMPANION VOLUME TWO OUTLANDER KITCHEN OUTLANDER KITCHEN: TO THE WORLD AND BACK AGAIN
A magnificent collection of Outlander short fiction—including two never-before-published novellas—featuring Jamie Fraser, Lord John Grey, Master Raymond, and many more, from Diana Gabaldon. This spectacular adult coloring book features forty-five all-new illustrations! For anyone who wants to spend more time with the Outlander characters and the world they inhabit, Diana Gabaldon here opens a door through the standing stones and offers a guided tour of what lies within. As entertaining, sweeping, and addictive as the series itself, this second volume of The Outlandish Companion is a one (or two)-of-a-kind gift from an incomparable author. Take a bite out of Diana Gabaldon’s New York Times bestselling Outlander novels, the inspiration for the hit Starz series, with this immersive official cookbook from Outlander Kitchen founder Theresa Carle-Sanders! Sink your teeth into over 100 new easy-to-prepare recipes inspired by Diana Gabaldon’s beloved Outlander & Lord John Grey series, as well as the hit Starz show—in the second official cookbook from Outlander Kitchen founder Theresa Carle-Sanders!

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