Twin rows of oil lamps cast shimmering yellow daggers across the dark waters of the river as the paddle-wheeler chugged toward a bend past a deserted landing a short distance north of Savannah. Suddenly, with a puff of steam and a clank of machinery, the pilot reversed gears and steered hard for the near shore.

No sooner had the hull touched the sandy bottom than the gangway lowered and a tall man dressed in a black broadcloth suit and black hat stepped across, leading a sleek dun mare with dark mane and tail.

—Thunder on the St. Johns 9781561640805