Sonora Kingston is a loner. She also
carries a secret. After losing her mother, her younger sister takes
off. When Sonora is kicked out of her home by her older sister, she
starts a new life, determined to make it on her own. She has never
known the love of a man and has no interest allowing one to get that
close.
But that was before Kellen Youngblood.
New secrets soon surface that connect Sonora and Kellen in ways they never imagined.
Available on Amazon.com
Excerpt:
I've heard it said that the Carolina Mountains date back to the time
of Christ–that they were His mountains. I've often wondered if The
Master ever comes back to His mountains, and if He does, what He must
think of the things going on within the green, majestic rolling
peaks. I'm guessing He's probably visited a time or two and is likely
saddened by the deeds the mountains have witnessed. The whispers of
what they know echo all around us. Does anyone ever listen? Or even
care? We should, for the Smokey hills see clearly what others assume
is hidden.
And the mountains never lie.
It's
a Long, Long Road
As the sun beats down on the dry grass, a sparse amount of clothing
lay littering the front lawn. An old tote bag is tossed from behind
the screen door.
“Get your slutty behind off my property, and don't ever come back!”
“But Dina, I didn't do nothin'. It ain't my fault.”
“The hell if you didn't. I know what happened, so don't try to lie
to me. I ain't dumb, I got eyes!”
“Please, Dina. I ain't got nowhere to go.”
“That ain't my problem. You shoulda thought of that before, you
skank!”
“But Dina, please listen– ”
“I ain't interested in anything else you got to say. Now get off my
property, Sonora!”
“But it's my house, too.”
“Not anymore!”
“But Dina, you don't know–”
“I said I don't wanna hear it! Go on, get off!”
“I ain't goin'. It's my house, too.”
“Girl, if you step back up in here, you got a world of hurtin'
coming. You don't believe me, you just try it. Now get your slutbag
behind on outta here!”
The slamming door echoes off houses as more neighbors perch on
porches, taking everything in. Nothing that happens in the small
southern town is ever private. Several pairs of eyes watch the lone
figure tearfully gather her few belongings before slowly making her
way down the road leading from town. Some shake their heads in pity,
while others congregate and murmur, “She had it coming.”
But one old soul stands in her doorway with tears streaming down her
cheeks as she watches the young woman reach the street corner, and
then turn, disappearing from sight. Glancing over at her husband
where he stands by the window gazing down the road, she watches his
jaw clench and prays for him, as well as the girl. It is all she can
do.
