I honestly don't remember how I came across this book, but it is dystopian and set in Ireland, so I thought it might be a good read. It starts off with a two parents and their ten year old son, all of whom are addicted to technology - like so many other families today - off on a holiday to rural Ireland. Then KABOOM - somebody drops and bomb - and all of a sudden technology doesn't work. None of it. No cars, no electronics, not even the electrical grid.
Luckily for them, the house they are holidaying at in BFE Ireland has a wood cook stove and a fireplace and a whole crapload of supplies in the root cellar, and best yet, it has horses, sheep, chickens etc.
Of course these city slickers don't know crud about living off the land, except they have some experience with horses, although Sarah, the wife, is terrified of them for some unexplained reason even though she rode them for years.
Quite frankly, Sarah is the main protagonist and she's a mess. She's whiny, anxiety ridden, over-protective, and a nag. To be fair, she does grow over the course of the book but she's so darn unlikable in the beginning that I nearly gave up on this book. There are also quite a few prayers going on here, which for an agnostic like myself tended to be a little off-putting, but it wasn't so bad that I would consider this specifically Christian fiction.
Now other than Sarah's unlikability my only real complaint about this book - and I admit it is probably extremely nit-picky of me - is that Sarah says in the book that Deirdre (a neighbor) taught her to knit the wool from the sheep. That's all well and good, but first, they never shear the sheep to get the wool, and second, you don't just knit the wool straight from the sheep. It has to be spun into yarn first. Okay, that rant is over.
In the end, it was actually a decent story, and I do see that it is a trilogy. Will I read the remaining books in the series? Probably not.