One year after her daring, celebrated debut, ONE SUMMER IN SAVANNAH, Terah Shelton Harris returns with LONG AFTER WE ARE GONE, an explosive, emotionally resonant exploration of a family in mourning…and in power.

After Reconstruction, Black American families began to celebrate their freedom by buying land. So naturally, at the same time, laws were developed to dispossess Black families of that same land. In the case of many families, however, homes and the lands they sat upon were passed down without any will, a phenomenon known as “heir property.” Unfortunately, heir property does not constitute a clear title, making Black-owned land vulnerable to developers, corporations and, most disturbingly, the law. In LONG AFTER WE ARE GONE, Harris examines what happens when one man passes away without any will, leaving his four children to reckon with their grief, their father’s legacy and, most pertinently, the land they fondly refer to as “the Kingdom.” His last words? “Don't let the white man take the house.”

King Solomon was a force to be reckoned with. A stern but loving father, he was a different man to each of his four children, but also a ceremonial town figurehead. Everyone sought his advice and support, but they never really knew him. The fact that his 200 acres of land have been family-owned and maintained for more than a century only cements his standing as a town notable. But it also binds his children to the preservation of his legacy, his dreams and the physical presence that is the family home --- a striking 18th-century feat of architecture, but one that is crumbling with age.

"Harris really digs deep on the Solomon family, asking pertinent, often painful questions about legacy and inheritance...that elevate this already thrilling, deeply compelling novel to something much more than the sum of its parts."

King’s firstborn son, Junior, has never been comfortable in or out of his father’s shadow. While King dreamed of a son to carry on his legacy as a carpenter, Junior has always fallen short of his expectations. Even now, married for 11 years with two daughters, Junior finds himself divided between the inner him and the outer him --- one a man longing for true love and intimacy, the other a proud vice president and doting husband. Fortunately, his brother, Mance, has been able to step in as the inheritor of King’s dreams and ambitions, but not without a cost.

Mance, whose infant son was recently diagnosed as deaf, finds the same peace and serenity in woodworking and carpentry that his father did. But that peace only reaches so far, and he has been in and out of jail for years as a result of his temper. Since the birth of his son, he has worked desperately to control his rage-filled urges. However, when he learns that his son may never hear his voice or the words he so wishes his father had said to him, he finds that he cannot manage his grief. The only true, unblemished light in his life is his son’s mother, to whom he hopes to propose --- but only if he can get through his father’s death, secure the Kingdom and learn to come around to his son’s limitations.

For years, King’s youngest daughter, Tokey, has attempted not only to care for her father, but to bring the family together whenever possible. The stress of the situation has manifested in an eating disorder, which finds Tokey trekking to the farthest fast-food joint she can find, where the workers don’t recognize her or know her monumental order on sight. But with King’s death, it becomes clear that Tokey is eating herself into an early grave. If there’s one thing she knows for sure, it’s that she doesn’t want to reunite with her estranged siblings from the afterlife.

And then there’s CeCe, the prodigal daughter living a flashy, luxurious life in New York City with one caveat: she cannot afford the clothes, apartment or maintenance that comes with being a privileged, coiffed power woman. So she has begun embezzling money from her employer. Her supervisor is on to her, but he has "graciously" offered to cover for her in exchange for unlimited access to her body. It’s a trade that seems worth it only because CeCe is so desperate to avoid becoming like her family and her neighbors back in Diggs, North Carolina, a place that --- despite her inheritance --- she views as backwards, unfulfilling and dead-ended.

So what happens when these four siblings, each of whom are dealing with monumental challenges of their own, arrive at their ancestral home to a note saying, “This letter is to inform you that you, King Solomon and all occupants, are no longer allowed on or around the premises of 845 Solomon Drive”? The answer, as Harris deftly demonstrates, is not as easy as burying old arguments or securing legal protection. As they gaze upon the house with its crumbling facade, their own facades begin to crumble…and the secrets, hurts and dreams they’ve hidden from one another begin to collide in unexpected, transcendent ways.

Told in alternating viewpoints, LONG AFTER WE ARE GONE is a one-of-a-kind novel. It’s ambitious but earnest in its scope and, against all odds, succeeds in quite literally every facet --- from the setting of Diggs, a lawless, civilian-run “town,” to its representation of issues like homophobia, financial insecurity, mental illness, generational trauma and, most searingly, its portraiture of a family so at odds but so love-filled that it lives and breathes straight off the page. Harris already demonstrated in ONE SUMMER IN SAVANNAH her mastery of deeply resonant familial relations, but this time she challenges herself to control multiple viewpoints, broad and disparate themes, and one overarching injustice. The result is jaw-dropping in its beauty, compassion and heart.

The premise alone, with its historical significance and timely reckoning with our nation’s racial relations, is enough to hook you. But Harris really digs deep on the Solomon family, asking pertinent, often painful questions about legacy and inheritance --- not just of land or money, but of faded dreams, hidden guilts and unrealized potential --- that elevate this already thrilling, deeply compelling novel to something much more than the sum of its parts. That Harris can do all of this and still deftly maintain four disparate character plotlines, with all the highs and lows they experience, is awe-inspiring.

If Terah Shelton Harris wasn’t an auto-buy author for you before, she will be now. Be prepared to follow what this reviewer hopes is a long, storied career.