Even faint as it was, it waked Rachel. She thought it was just one of the street people, gone a bit nuts—such things happen around downtown Los Angeles—someone rapping with a spoon or something on one of the doors to the parking garage below her apartment. She didn’t want to hike all the way down...
Jason was always larger than life. The weather was warm, the air heavy, the metallic odor of old motor oil permeated everything—a perfectly ordinary morning, except for the flat tire. Nothing about Jason Karl was ordinary. Th...
By that night in April 1861, I had spent three of my thirty-four years answering to the name Matilda Summerhayes, or as most folks call me, Matty. I was getting used to it. The last thing I ever wanted was to run a horse ranch, but I reckoned I was finally getting a grasp on it. I was so full of ...