Patricia and Chris

A writer, a cop, and a fishing trip

Forget writing, dating, or my normal life. When I get Martin’s message, I head straight back home. Too late, though, for Martin’s dead and buried. Work accident the newspaper said. As if it’s ever that simple with my siblings.


The damn woman’s run off. Again. She thinks she can get a job at some plant across the border, rent a shack, and follow some jerk without me? Think again, Angel of mine.

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