The Distinguished Blood
The heat in Oakhaven did not merely sit upon you—it pressed, heavy and wet, like a hand held against your mouth to keep you from speaking. Julian Beauregard felt it the moment he stepped off the bus from Jackson, a heat that had nothing to do with temperature and everything to do with history. He had not planned to come. The invitation from the Oakhaven Historical Society had arrived in a...
0 Reacties 0 aandelen 3 Views 0 voorbeeld