She was there, sitting in her rocker under the big oak. I could see her clearly. She was more than a shadow that hid in the darkness. She had flesh. Her eyes were no longer shaded by cataracts; they were a beautiful green, like mine. The hard lines once well established in her face had softened, but she was still old, still fragile. She wasn’t wearing the beige dress she wore for her burial. And her feet were flawless,like they’d never walked on the ground even though they were planted solid on the dusty earth.
Excerpt from IVY’S ENVY (Want & Decay Trilogy,#1)