By Claire Wolfe
Once upon a time there was a town called Hardyville. Truth to tell, it wasn’t much of a place. It was short on Walmarts (0). Fashion consisted mostly of Carhartts. The nearest freeway was a long, long way off (“Keeps out the riff-raff,” the locals agreed.) It did have three bars and five churches (or was that five bars and three churches?) and a “young ladies academy” presided over by a watchful madame … er, I mean headmistress.But basically it was just a dusty intersection, surrounded by ranches, located in a red-rock valley precisely 600 miles from the middle of nowhere.
Why would anybody want to read about Hardyville? you ask. Well, there are reasons. About 1776 reasons. Hardyville was (and possibly still is) home to some of the most cussedly, creatively independent, freedom-loving souls you could find anywhere. This book is about what happens when outsiders with very different ideas discover Hardyville and start moving in.
Will anybody survive the monumental culture clash?
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