The wood floors are smooth, a stark contrast to the peeling wallpaper and cracked ceilings.
A lone barn stands in the distance with horses grazing in the paddock. The soft glow of evening light bathes my face while the sweet smell of homemade apple pie draws me to the front door of the dilapidated farmhouse. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons-living or dead-is entirely coincidental. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.
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