He glanced toward the back door and noticed the knob twisting.

Then Sam heard another strange noise, something that didn't sound like part of the storm raging outside. As he walked into the kitchen, a gust of wind rattled the windows and another burst of thunder sounded. Nothing like a big old glass of milk with a side of chocolate chip cookies to cheer him up and get his mind back on the task at hand. He needed to get out of his head and put aside the unsettled thoughts which had been pestering him more and more of late. With a grumbled sigh, he pushed out of his beat-up leather chair and headed for the kitchen. Once the manufacturing jobs began drying up, many of the town's residents had left for greener pastures. The rest of his hometown was more depressing than anything else. The neighborhood butted up against a nice stretch of woods where Sam was able to hike, explore, and spend time outside. It wasn't much, but it kept him out of his dad's hair while being close enough to support him on his bad days. He’d rented a little house in one of the many suburbs that were mostly empty these days. Teaching seventh grade at his hometown middle school wasn't Sam's dream job, but when his dad had been injured on the job and needed some help around the house, Sam had little choice but to go home. Besides, the sooner he finished, the sooner the summer would be his.

His students were expecting their grades on Monday, and no one was more demanding than whiny thirteen-year-old middle schoolers.

The end of spring semester meant Sam had a stack of final exams to grade before the weekend was over. Unfortunately, in the real world, he didn't have the luxury of doing nothing. When the wind battered against his windows and thunder and lightning shook the very foundation of the little house he called home, Sam wanted nothing more than to curl up in front of the fire with something mindless on television to drown out the noise. Thunderstorms freaked the ever loving hell out of Sam, and he was man enough to admit it. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.Ĭover and symbols designed by A.J. Copyright of the collection © 2020 by Macy Blakeįormatted by Leslie Copeland, LesCourt Author Services

Stop at Nothing by Macy Blake