Midnight Fantasy
Five years later— Stay with me, Frenchy. I need you.
That's as close as Tag had come to telling the best friend he'd ever had, he loved him.
But maybe Frenchy had known.
Tag had clasped him in his arms long after Frenchy's eyes had gone as glassy as the still bay, long after his skin had grown as cool as his dead mother's that awful morning when the alarm clock had kept ringing.
Stay with me, Frenchy.
he'd lashed the wheel of the shrimp boat to starboard with a nylon sheet—his makeshift autopilot—and headed home, cradling Frenchy's limp, grizzled head in his lap.
Stay with me, Frenchy.
But Frenchy's eyes had remained closed. The deck had rolled under them.
It was midnight. The full moon shone through the twisted live oaks and tall grasses, ... read full excerpt from Midnight Fantasy ebook
