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Like all of Grant's other girlfriends, Brenda had been enchanted by his story of the promise he’d made to Carter to watch over his girls. It was a tale of heroes that had been in the paper, been told and retold by every police officer and sheriff’s deputy in Gibbs County. So the ladies were charmed and fell in love with the hero who’d survived.

Examining her pink fingernails, Gwen scraped one thumbnail with the other. “We cut our dinners to just twice a month so you could have more time with her,” she reminded Grant. A fleck of polish flipped onto the couch beside her. He sighed heavily then said, “Didn’t make a difference.”

Mama wakes me trying to slip the Nancy Drew I got at the library out of my fingers. The Secret of the Old Clock is splayed open on my belly from when I fell asleep with my pillows bunched up behind my head.

At the end of Chapter 1, “Alleys and Shadows,” in my serialized novel Dancing at The Royal Jade, nine-year-old Libby Billings sneaks to watch Dark Shadows, a show I was not allowed to watch either. That’s probably not 100% true. I was prone to nightmares as a child so even though I was fascinated by the show and my parents weren't all that strict about what I watched, my fears kept me from tuning in. It was creepy, y’all.

For generations, children throughout the U.S. have played Hangman doodled on chalkboards or scribbled on notebook paper. Often seen as a child’s pastime, this simple word-guessing game has a problematic history laced with cultural influences and contemporary controversies.

Gwen stepped away from the window and, for the fourth time, allowed the curtains to fall back into place. She fiddled with the stereo volume . . . again. Low enough to keep from waking Libby, loud enough to cover conversation. She couldn’t quite find the balance.