by Denise Hunter
It was not the sort of day when bad things happened. Eighty degrees. September breeze. Sky expanding, wide and blue, above a canopy of trees. Air thick with the fresh smell of pine and the loamy scent of earth. It was a perfect Saturday.
NOW IT’S YOUR TURN!
GRAB THE BOOK YOU ARE CURRENTLY READING, OPEN TO CHAPTER ONE, AND POST A SENTENCE OR TWO IN THE COMMENTS BELOW.
THEN HEAD ON OVER TO READING IS MY SUPERPOWER TO SEE ALL OF THE FLF PAGES THIS WEEK (JUST CLICK ON THE RIMSP BUTTON BELOW).