Happy New Year!
Six unedited sentences from the upcoming Part Eight of You Will Find Your Way.
When she’s done taking stock of her body—all in one piece this time, thank goodness—Dallas finally rolls to her feet and takes a slow look around the clearing.
She takes another deep breath of fresh air—really fresh air—and narrows her eyes, concentrates hard but can’t hear anything like a road, or any other signs of humanity like she should.
Something isn’t right.
If Maris sent her back to her home in New York City, she should definitely hear the symphony of angry taxi drivers or the chattering of hotdog venders or homeless men busking for change in Central Park, but—
Above her head, a bird caws as it flaps it wings and takes flight. It shakes the branches of the tree it perched on, loosing a leaf that floats to the ground, lands on the toe of her boot.
Start You Will Find Your Way from the beginning.
Like what you read? Want to see more?
-Kathryn, the Fake Redhead