The Dog Days of Charlotte Hayes
Chapter One
I might as well admit this straight up. I am not a dog person.
Never asked for one, pleaded for one, or begged for one.
Don't get me wrong. It's not that I dislike dogs or am scared of them or think the world would be a better place without them. It's just that I'm not the type of person who melts when she sees a basset hound or wants to rush over and hug any Lab she happens to cross paths with. When I see a dog, I usually don't give it a second glance.
And yet here I am, a certified non–dog lover, talking to a drooling Saint Bernard and scratching him behind his ear even though I'd much rather be inside, gulping down a can of cold grape soda. Especially after the steaming hot walk I just had coming home from school.
The dog's name is Killer. That is what my daddy decided he should be called. But he's lived with us for seven months now, and there's not a microscopic bit of meanness to be found in any of the big bones under his shaggy brown and white fur coat.
Daddy's second choice for a name wasn't any better for him: Cujo ... read full excerpt from The Dog Days of Charlotte Hayes ebook
