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Lay Don My Sord and Shield [Paperback]

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  • Category: Books (Fiction)
  • Author:  Burke, James Lee
  • Author:  Burke, James Lee
  • ISBN-10:  1439165459
  • ISBN-10:  1439165459
  • ISBN-13:  9781439165454
  • ISBN-13:  9781439165454
  • Publisher:  Pocket Books
  • Publisher:  Pocket Books
  • Pages:  336
  • Pages:  336
  • Binding:  Paperback
  • Binding:  Paperback
  • Pub Date:  01-Apr-2010
  • Pub Date:  01-Apr-2010
  • SKU:  1439165459-11-MING
  • SKU:  1439165459-11-MING
  • Item ID: 100369191
  • List Price: $17.99
  • Seller: ShopSpell
  • Ships in: 2 business days
  • Transit time: Up to 5 business days
  • Delivery by: Dec 27 to Dec 29
  • Notes: Brand New Book. Order Now.
Vintage James Lee Burke: The first novel introducing the memorable Texas sheriff Hackberry Holland, coming of age against the backdrop of the civil rights era in a sultry border town.

In hot and sultry Texas, Hack, an attorney and Korean War POW, is being pushed by his wife, his brother, and his so-called friends in the oil business to run for political office. But Hack would prefer to drink, look after his beloved horses, and represent the occasional long-shot pro bono case at his law firm. When Hack attempts to overturn a conviction for an old army buddy, he finds himself embroiled in the seamy underbelly of the Texas patronage system—and in the earliest beginnings of the United Farm Workers movement, led by a beautiful woman who speaks to his heart in a way no one else has. As Hack begins to bring justice to the underserved, he finds both a new love and a new purpose.

With his skillful blend of engaging plotlines, compelling characters, and graceful prose, James Lee Burke demonstrates the shimmering clarity of vision that has made him beloved by suspense fans all over the globe.Lay Down My SWORD and SHIELD

CHAPTER 1


ALMOST NINETY YEARSago during the Sutton-Taylor feud, John Wesley Hardin drilled a half-dozen .44 pistol balls into one of the wood columns on my front porch. My grandfather, Old Hack, lived in the house then, and he used to describe how Wes Hardin had ridden drunk all night from San Antonio when he had heard that Hack had promised to lock him in jail if he ever came back into DeWitt County again. The sun had just risen, and it was raining slightly when Hardin rode into the yard, his black suit streaked with mud, horse sweat, and whiskey; he had a shotgun tied across his saddle horn with a strip of leather and his navy Colt was already cocked in his hand.

“You, Hack! Get out here. And dló
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