by Rebecca Copeland | Sep 28, 2022 | St. Louis
The ping of a text message drilled into my ear. I was drifting along a wave of dreams, enjoying the sounds of morning gradually overtake my mountain house—the summer insects, the birds, the drip, drip from last night’s rain. If I answered the text, I would have to...
by Rebecca Copeland | Aug 18, 2021 | Mystery Fiction
October 9, 2012, Tuesday The ninth day of my writer’s retreat. The cabin is growing more comfortable. I am almost used to the noises that the woods make. Each leaf that falls creates a sound—some louder than others. As I type this I hear a strange, irregular drumming...
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