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  • Format: ePub

Many of us remember the stories from our childhood. There is the Legend, some say myth, of a one-legged old man and a red-headed boy, and a handful of soldiers.
They traveled the land that remained after the cataclysm, bringing hope to the hopeless and protection to the helpless. As they traveled, they built camps for the survivors. Those camps became villages, and from those villages, our civilization was rebuilt.
This is the year 2253 of the Gregorian calendar. We also know that, more than 240 years ago, the magnetic poles of our planet shifted nearly 40 degrees over a period of
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Produktbeschreibung
Many of us remember the stories from our childhood. There is the Legend, some say myth, of a one-legged old man and a red-headed boy, and a handful of soldiers.

They traveled the land that remained after the cataclysm, bringing hope to the hopeless and protection to the helpless. As they traveled, they built camps for the survivors. Those camps became villages, and from those villages, our civilization was rebuilt.

This is the year 2253 of the Gregorian calendar. We also know that, more than 240 years ago, the magnetic poles of our planet shifted nearly 40 degrees over a period of several years, and the land was devastated. The knowledge of thousands of years died; what remained was passed from father to son and mother to daughter by word of mouth alone.

Yet, one legend remained with us. One legend endured...

Thirteen years before I put stylus to this parchment, a small group of explorers stumbled upon the remains of a large sailing vessel of ancient design, built of materials unknown to them. In the rotting hulk of that ship were found several trunks, many still water-tight. Those trunks contained scores of books. The collection of tomes formed a large library that offered a wealth of knowledge about the world and life before the polar shift.

We have poured over the books and papers. We've worked day and night to decipher the undecipherable, to re-learn what was forgotten, and to gather the knowledge that today allows us to understand who we are and where we came from.
We know the legend was real. We know there was an old man and a red-headed boy who, with a small handful of soldiers, struggled to find a place called home in a ravaged world.

What follows, in the words of that man himself, is that story: The Legend of Burroughs' Rangers.


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Autorenporträt
J.A. Bland was born in coastal Southern California in 1955, the middle child of seven siblings. He spent his early years in the South Western states. His father was raised on a farm in rural Horry County, South Carolina while his mother was born in Oregon and raised in California. After recovering from a near fatal accident at the age of 15, he began traveling the country. Either by foot, hitchhiking or jumping freight trains; the sights and sounds, and the aroma of the land and its people are forever embedded in his soul. For many years he cataloged his experiences, always with the intention of writing about them. Drawing on that beginning, the desire to write began to grow early on.

A voracious reader at an early age, he devoured the works of Poe, Kipling and Tolkien, Edgar Rice Burroughs and Louis L'Amour. He studied the philosophy of Plutarch and Socrates, Epicurus and Marcus Aurelius, and the lessons of Sun Tzu and Niccolò Machiavelli, modeling himself after characters of strength and compassion.

Proving his mettle as a paratrooper in the US Army at the age of 18, he carries that esprit de corps with him today. As a soldier he learned to understand the ethics of leadership and the strength of team work, ever in the support of the underdog and stepping in to help those in need. He imbues those traits into the characters of whom he writes.

With paternal roots in the Deep South and maternal roots in the Northwest, he is truly a man of the country. During brief sojourns to family farms in the south he developed a deep love of the land and an understanding of stewardship of the earth, adapting many southern mannerisms of his father, uncles and grandfather.

Having traveled nearly all of the lower 48 states, Central America and parts of Europe, and having hung his hat in more than a dozen states, he now calls the Colorado Rocky Mountains his home.

J.A. Bland writes of the places of his past, bringing them into the present and into the future with imagination, clear vision, compassion and a strong heart.