Mississippi Cotton (A Southern Novel)

| August 22, 2013


Mississippi Cotton (A Southern Novel)

Paul Yarbrough’s critically-acclaimed debut novel, MISSISSIPPI COTTON, is a 2012 AMAZON BESTSELLER.

MISSISSIPPI COTTON brings to light the complex history of rural Mississippi in the 1950’s. It is 1951. Young Jake Conner gets on a bus to visit his cousins in the Mississippi Delta. But when the body of an unknown man is found in the Mississippi River, Jake’s summer vacation gets a little more adventurous as he and his cousins snoop around in a mystery that is better left to the grown ups.

“First time novelist, Paul H. Yarbrough, masterfully transports readers deep into the world of Mississippi Cotton, where life is not as simple as it seems.” ~Julie Cantrell, editor, Southern Literary Review and bestselling author of Into the Free

“In Mississippi Cotton a 20th Century Huck Finn has a real adventure. No matter that his raft is a Trailways Bus along the river, the trip is no less toward maturity. If you like a good story, this is your book, a book told by someone who knows the terrain–its history, people, landscape and culture. Only a proper native could have his narrator say that his daddy taught him never to hold onto anything with Lincoln’s face longer than you had to.” ~Dr. James Everett Kibler, author, Walking Toward Home, Memories Keep, and Our Father’s Fields

“Set in 1951, in the fictional Delta town of Cotton City, the story is more broadly a Southern story…an agrarian story. It is also a murder mystery. The body of an unknown man is found in the river at the Greenville Bridge. Jake’s bus ride visit to his Delta cousins begins a parallel journey that ends in the discovery of the dead mans identity.” ~Noel Workman, Delta Magazine

“Earl put his brown hat in the chair next to him. In his work clothes, he looked tanned and strong—a real cotton farmer. His blue cotton shirt sleeves rolled up revealed big hairy forearms, with hard-looking muscle that came from farm work. He had a gentle way about him, but a mannerism that made you know he was definitely no softy. One of his big hands swept around the cup, not using the crook, and took a big swallow. Black. No sissy coffee for Earl Hightower.”


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