Life moves so slowly in this town that even time is bored with itself. The clock at the center of Main Street has read ten past two for nearly a decade. The highlight of the teenage social scene is sneaking into the cemetery to drink beer and kick over headstones, and if Susan Miller has had enough Gray Goose, you can get lucky behind the Dixon Mausoleum. Its always the preachers daughter who is the wildest of them all. She parties the hardest on Saturday night, and come Sunday sits with ribbons in her hair, looking as innocent as the Virgin Mary when we all know that shes rattled a few bones...and were not talking about the dead ones. Excerpt from the new novel Im currently working on. :-) (Title not determined).
Posted on: Sun, 03 Aug 2014 00:38:57 +0000
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