In my living room, after long pauses between small talk, he said he planned to retire soon and leave Louise.

I want to have more in-person get-togethers like I had before COVID disrupted life as we knew it.

Laura McHale Holland writes San Francisco with such affection that I could almost smell the mix of diesel, ocean air, and bakery sweets, especially when the scent of those famous Star Bakery scones with their butterscotch maple glaze drifts up the hill.

What I remember most about that night is driving up a winding dirt road so devoid of light it seemed as though I’d crossed into an alternate universe at the last turn.

Mommy says now that I'm eight years old I get to be queen all day. So early this morning, she put my queen costume from Halloween at the foot of my bed. I was so excited. I got out of my jammies and into that dress quick as a greyhound dog.

For reasons they can’t quite explain, the lost always find themselves on Shinbone Lane…

She didn't plan it. Who plans to fall fast for a seeker, a traveler?

Miss Millie never had a job as far as we knew, never had family over, never greeted us from her porch when we sashayed by …

And then with a bam-boom-schram-a-flam, the grapnel swapfnicker sort of thing rose up from the leaves in the creek bed, and he tore off his head, which wasn't his head at all, but a mask

I’m preparing to work with a designer on the cover for ON SHINBONE LANE, my novel in progress.

The tuplip ate my skin. No lie. Insides exposed, I felt curiously steamy …

You could win a Kindle reader, virtual gift basket of ebooks or paperback books.

But her jerk of a brother said to let it go, pretend it was never theirs.