Rust runs the world. Where there is rust, there is metal. Metal means relics of the past. Metal means bullets and shooters. Only thing more powerful in the world was the folks that could channel. The ability to bring items from another world into existence meant nearly limitless power. Holin Fairday was a channeler, and a hell of a shot. A vagabond looking to settle down. As he rides to the town of Holiday, he can hear the brass jingling in his pocket. A promise of fortunes to come, and a chance to settle down with a fine woman.
Writing enthusiast that spends his waking hours running a buy inn on an island in the PNW. Husband of one, father of two. A lover of all things that grow. He spends most of his time chasing deer out of his garden, writing recipes, hiking and hunting for mushrooms, and seeking out cool looking sticks.View all by Sean Prater
