Book Title: Downriver
Series: The Poison River Series (Book 1)
Author: Jennifer M. Lane
Publication Date: May 28, 2024
Publisher: Pen & Key Publishing
Pages: 344
Genre: Historical
Any Triggers: Death, Violence
Downriver
by Jennifer M. Lane
Blurb:
A sulfur sky poisoned her family and her heart. Now revenge tastes sweeter than justice.
It’s 1900. In a Pennsylvania coal town tainted by corruption and pollution, Charlotte's world collapses when her parents meet a tragic end. Sent to a foster family in a Maryland fishing village, she’s fueled by grief and embarks on a relentless quest for justice against the ruthless coal boss, Nels Pritchard.
But Charlotte is no ordinary girl. She shares the fiery spirit of her father, whose powerful speeches inspired worker riots. With a burning desire for vengeance, she sets out to uncover the truth behind Pritchard's crimes, unearthing a shocking connection between the town's toxic air and the lifeless fish washing up on the shore of her Chesapeake Bay foster town.
To expose the truth, Charlotte builds a network of unexpected allies. There are gutsy suffragists, a literary society of teenage girls willing to print the truth… and Weylan. The captivating young man lost his own family to Pritchard’s poison. He offers support, but Charlotte questions his true motives when he lures her to break the law. Could she be falling into a dangerous trap, leading her to a fate worse than poison?
With her unwavering spirit and determination, Charlotte must forge alliances and navigate a web of treachery before Pritchard seeks his own ruthless revenge.
The newest book by award-winning author Jennifer M. Lane is perfect for fans of Jeannette Walls’ Hang the Moon and the fiery protagonist in The Hunger Games. Join Charlotte in this small town, coming-of-age dystopian historical saga as she finds resilience, courage, and triumph in her search for identity, independence, and her true home.
Buy Links:
This title is available to read on #KindleUnlimited.
Universal Buy Link: https://books2read.com/u/bWlKk0
Universal Series Link: https://linktr.ee/Poison_River_Series
Author Bio:
A Maryland native and Pennsylvanian at heart, Jennifer M. Lane holds a bachelor’s degree in philosophy from Barton College and a master’s in liberal arts with a focus on museum studies from the University of Delaware, where she wrote her thesis on the material culture of roadside memorials.
Jennifer is a member of the Authors Guild and the Historical Novel Society. Her first book, Of Metal and Earth, won the 2019 Next Generation Indie Book Award for First Novel and was a Finalist in the 2018 IAN Book of the Year Awards in the category of Literary / General Fiction. She is also the author of Stick Figures from Rockport, and the six book series, The Collected Stories of Ramsbolt.
Author Links:
Website: www.jennifermlanewrites.com
Twitter: https://x.com/Jenn_L_Writes
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Jennifer-M-Lane/author/B07FPLSZKG
Book Excerpt:
Chapter Twenty
I wake not knowing where I am, but knowing it isn’t where I’m supposed to be or even where I’d been the morning before. The pieces fall into place with Bea’s soft snores and Leta’s gentle shuffling of pots and pans in the kitchen below. The heavy curtains obscure the hour, and with a twinge of panic that I’ve slept until noon, I peek out and am surprised to find the day is still new.
Terrible scenes play out in my mind. My little brother locked in his room, gripped in the throes of panic while that awful man, Finn, taunts him. Emmett will start his morning fishing soon, and I’m eager to know how he got through the night without me, so I throw on my clothes, negotiate a fast breakfast with Leta, and take my books and lunch down the path along the woods’ edge. Behind the market, the woods are thirty paces deep, leading back to the river where the land dips down to a small clearing, and a wide flat rock rests on the bank. Steam comes off the water, inviting me to sit. I will, but not today.
I find Emmett at the fishing spot, his pants rolled up to his knees and an empty pail at his side. He fights with the net.
“Stupid thing’s all tangled up.” Emmett crouches in the water, his pants growing dark and wet. “It was too loose, I guess.”
To spare my skirt from the waters, I make pants of it, reaching down between my legs and drawing the back up to the front, tucking the hem into the waist. I grab one end of the net, Em takes the other, and we untangle it from itself. It did manage to collect some fish, though. Feisty herring splash into the pail.
“What happened last night?” I ask. “Did Finn lock your bedroom door?”
“No. For once.” Emmett sits on the fallen log and unrolls his pant legs, dark brown striping them where the water soaked in. “He sat in the kitchen, smoking in the dark. Went to bed drunk.”
“That’s as good as it gets, I suppose.”
“My turn.” He flicks water from his fingertips. “You’re being secretive again like you were in Stoke when you were writing for Father. What are you up to?”
“How do you know about that?” I ask.
“I’m quiet, not stupid. I watch,” he says. “What’s your plan?”
I want to tell him the truth, all of it, about the literary society and the interviews, the protest, the suffragists’ plan to take down Whitaker, and how I’m certain there’s a link between Whitaker and Pritchard. I want to tell him how good it will feel when we find that link and press on it like a bruise until Pritchard hurts and squirms. I want Emmett to feel what I feel, the warmth of hope as it glimmers like a starting fire and the anticipation of knowing it will grow into an inferno. If he can take control of his own fate, he may let go of the anger that drives him to befriend people like Pine. But then, if Emmett lets anything slip, even by mistake, it will ruin everything.
“I can’t tell you, Em. I just can’t.”
“Well, I already know you’re doing something which is half the way to knowing what it is, and I hate Pritchard as much as you do, so why would I tell anyone what you’re up to? Besides, if you make people angry, they’ll assume I’m in on it anyway, so you might as well tell me what I could be blamed for.”
He has a point. “You must keep your mouth shut.”
“I’m quiet, remember?” His pleading eyes look like he means it, and I know when he’s telling the truth. I push aside my objections, because it’s nice to have his support, and it gives me a little confidence knowing I’m not the only one who wants revenge.
“They lifted the curfew.” I rest on the downed tree, letting the water dry from my feet in the morning breeze. “They’re trying to trap us. They’ll follow us to see what we’re doing.”
“Not surprised.” He leans back, crossing his ankles and squinting into the morning sun. “What’s the plan? Set the town on fire? And what do you want me to do?”
“We’re going to unseat the mayor. And somehow, along the way, I’ll figure out what ties him to Pritchard.”
Emmett flops his head back, chest heaving with a sigh. “I thought you wanted to know what happened to Mother and Father? Now you’re trying to take down the mayor in some town you don’t even come from? Can’t you just get a hobby and paint pictures of ponies or something?”
“No. I can’t paint pictures of ponies. Listen to me. Whitaker and Pritchard are linked. You saw them shake hands at the station. Pritchard warned Whitaker about me, so he must think I’m dangerous. What if Father was close to something, and they think I know what it is? If I can find out, if I can prove that Pritchard knows he’s killing people with poison, then I’ll know how to stop him.” I grab Emmett’s arm. “We can go home, Em. But it starts here, because Pritchard brought the fight here.”
Emmett chews his bottom lip, staring at his shoes like they have an answer. “How are we going to destroy Whitaker?”
“The suffragists are already working on that. The literary society is talking to everyone in town who’s been punished by the mayor and his men. We’ll write up their stories, and print them a week before the festival. It will whip everyone into a fury right, the festival will become a protest, and it’ll be too late, and too big, for the mayor to stop it.”
Dappled sun freckles the bank. I search Emmett’s face for signs he thinks I’m crazy, or it’s impossible or, better yet, that he thinks it’ll work, but he only gives me the kind of exasperated look he gives me when we played gin rummy, and I threw down a card he wished I hadn’t.
“Have you thought this through?” he asks. “These are people with power, not childhood games in the woods. You know what Pritchard did to people. It was one thing to help Father, but this—”
“Helping the suffragists,” I say. “It’s not all that different.” Of course, I know how dangerous it is.” “Pritchard bricked a guy up in an empty mine shaft, Charlie. He’s not going to let you go because you’re a teenager or a girl.”
I tug at my sleeve. “That’s why you can’t tell a soul.”
“You’re going to trust a bunch of suffragists who could throw you to the wolves to save their own hides, but you yell at me for trusting Pine and Max and Weylan.”
“Max’s father runs the police.” I roll my eyes. “And I’ve met Weylan. Alright, one of them seems normal.” And dangerous in the way an innocent-looking pair of eyes can be. I’ve never been one for church, but I remember that Easter sermon when the minister said the devil wouldn’t be as ugly as you’d think. For all I know, the Devil has wavy auburn hair that tumbles into his piercing eyes, he wears nice shoes, and he smells like leather and wood.
Emmett sighs. “What can I do?”
It’s a leap to trust Emmett on this. “Nothing. Just listen to people when they talk. Pine, especially. And let me know if anyone in that circle has access to Whitaker’s office. And don’t say a word to anyone.”
Emmett holds up his pinky finger. “I promise. Pinky swear.”
I link my unbroken pinky finger with his.
He throws twigs into the stream one by one, where they swirl among the rocks. The last one misses and lands among dead fish that cling to the bank. “I still don’t think this is a good idea,” he says. “The world is full of things you’re better off not knowing. You can’t put the cork back in this thing, Charlie.”
“Well, don’t want to put the cork back in. I want to know everything about what killed our parents.”
“I know.” Emmett stands and brushes dirt from his pants. “It’s not the knowledge, but the regrets I’m afraid of.”
Follow the Blog Tour:
Thanks so much for hosting Jennifer M. Lane today!
Best,
Cathie xo
The Coffee Pot Book Club