Into the Fire

To conclude the “promotion” of my novels, I will end with the one that was inspired by a house at the end of our road. When heading into town one of two ways, I pass it. A black Jeep sits in front of it all the time, but it’s not easy to see. If you’d like to know why, you’ll have to read Chapter 3 in my novel Then . . . you.

“He’s a recluse. She’s seeking refuge.

In the dark early morning hours he answers his door to a woman who needs help.

He’s spent years cultivating being alone.

She’s spent months doing the wrong thing.

Neither of them expects what comes next.“

I loved writing this story.