Category: indie-writer
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The summer he left (Langley series)
Langley stood just inside the doorway, letting his eyes adjust to the dim interior. The house smelled faintly of lavender and something metallic, stale. Time had already begun to settle over the place, as if it were trying to bury what happened here. “Found her in the kitchen,” the sheriff said from behind him. “A…
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It’s been awhile
It had been years since Detective Langley had driven down Maple Ridge Road. The town looked smaller than he remembered quiet, worn down by time, and holding onto secrets the way old towns do. He hadn’t planned on coming back. Not after everything. But when the call came in from the county sheriff, there was…
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Quiet Strength
Short Story Part 1. Some men carry grief loudly, like thunder rolling across an open sky. Others carry it the way Jake Rivers does quietly, like a shadow that never quite leaves. At thirty-five, Jake looks older than his years. Not dramatically so, but in the subtle ways life leaves its mark: the tired lines…
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Country Side Peace
There is a kind of quiet you can only find in the country. Not the quiet of a paused television or a sleeping house, but the kind that stretches across open fields and settles into the bones. The kind that hums softly through tall grass and rides the wind over fence posts that have stood…
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Dust, Dogs, and the Disappearing Man
The dream started with a plan. We were supposed to meet at a roadside market just outside a tiny country town, the kind where the gas station sells bait and the diner closes at two. The sky hung low and silver, heavy with the threat of rain, and the air smelled like wet dirt and…
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Meet me under the Porch light.
There’s a certain feeling that doesn’t disappear, no matter how much time passes. It softens. It settles. It tucks itself into the quiet corners of your life and waits patiently, like it always knew you’d come back. In small towns, nothing really leaves for good. Not the old tire swing behind the school. Not the…
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Petals & Pocket Magic
There is a particular kind of quiet you can only find when no one is watching you. Not the kind that falls in an empty room, but the soft, living quiet of a place that doesn’t expect anything from you. A path lined with wildflowers. A garden just after rain. A forest clearing where the…
Quiet Harbor Writing 