Gary Kruse smiling at the camera behind a laptop
The book Badlands in a grimy looking warehouse
BADLANDS CHAPTER ONE LIMBS SORE, EYES gritty and dry, Willow stumbled along the deserted country lane, her hair a wild mess of red dreadlocks, black fire tattoos up her arms, an ear-spacer the size of a two pence piece stretching her left earlobe. Her heavy Doc Martens scuffed the cracked and pitted tarmac, and every step was quiet agony, the straps of her rucksack scraping and digging into the raw skin on her shoulders. Her clothes - a black vest top and grey cargo shorts - were rumpled and covered with the grime of three days travel. So close now. So close. A warm breeze stirred the trees and bushes that lined the lane. The July air was full of the song of blackbirds and 8
The author - the book - the first page.
Badlands - out now.
mybook.to/Badlands2025
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