She’d figure out what to do with it all once she figured out what to do with what was left of her fractured life.Īfter closing the tailgate on her car, she walked back inside the shopworn bungalow that had been her home for the last four-and-a-half years.

The movers had already been and gone, and the majority of her personal belongings were now on their way to a climate-controlled storage facility west of Raleigh. The things that would keep her sane and remind her that the rest of the world’s cranky machinery was chugging along, even if her own had frozen to a complete stop. Syd waited until the last few minutes to pack up the essentials of her daily life-the things that would keep her company for the next eighteen months during her sojourn in the tiny mountain town. The last couple of boxes barely fit into the crowded station wagon. “By faith the walls of Jericho fell down.

Casey (another ex-librarian), who taught me about dangling participles and women’s basketball-with varying degrees of success the many wonderful people I’ve gotten to know at The Academy and The Athenaeum my soul sister, Luke, who always tells me the truth Michael and Matthew, who graciously permitted me to clone Ward Manor (the best Inn in Virginia) Trently, who always loves me-even when I get how I get and, finally, an obsessive-compulsive named “bagel,” who loves Maine, muscle cars, and this book-not necessarily in that order. Jessica Hayes, who convinced me I should write it-and who regularly suited up in her dominatrix gear and cracked the whip over my head to be sure I did Montine, who steadfastly read every fragment of every chapter as I cranked them out, and never complained about getting it piecemeal my mom (dee dee) who brazenly told me the awful truth about adverbs, and swore she “skipped over” the sex scenes my dog, Maddie, who allowed me to borrow her identity Domina, who honored me by reading the entire thing during a long, Vermont winter (I strongly suspect she used it for kindling) Claudia and Carrie at Bedazzled Ink for taking a chance on me my talented, longsuffering, and esoteric editor C.A. I have many people to thank for this book: Library of Congress Control Number: 2011937166įor Sheila, who will live forever in my own story. No part of this publication may beĮlectronic or mechanical, without permission in

Jericho by ann mcman