By Sandra Chastain, Debra Dixon, Donna Ball, Virginia Ellis, Nancy Knight
A pleasant new choice of unique Southern tales set within the captivating, fictitious down-home city of Mossy Creek, the place there is a pleasant face on each nook and a heartfelt tale in the back of each door...
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I clutched the railing on a rickety wooden scaffold the Hamilton farmhands had hung fifty feet up the side of the whitewashed Hamilton Farm corn silo. My grandmother and namesake, Ida Hamilton, stood precariously on a level of scaffolding above me, wildly waving a small brush dipped in black paint. Big Miss Ida, as people called her, was six feet tall, thick-limbed and as strong as a mountain lumberman. Yet she wore her silver hair in a snazzy French twist and her trademark pearl necklace always showed above the collar of her practical chintz work dress.
Listen to the mayor,” Del told Oscar. ” We all drew closer together, all five of us, bonding in Mossy Creekite defiance. “You’ll have to send this whole class to jail,” I said. U. ” I lied quickly. ” I looked at Del Jackson for support. He arched an eyebrow. ” Geena took a deep breath. ” she said to Oscar. ” Nail, speechless through all of this, began to smile. “Hey, if my homies say it, it’s true. ” Oscar looked at us with the white-rimmed eyes of a small, frustrated lap dog, but the slightest twitch began under his beady left eye.
He held up a letter. “This is a resignation from your anger management counselor. ” Oscar had quit because of me? “Your Honor, I don’t know what to say. I feel very, well, very—” “Regretful? ” “Proud. Mr. Seymour was a petty dictator. ” Teresa groaned. Judge Blakely pounded the desk. ” He raised his gavel. Everyone held their breaths—the whole courtroom, the media, the gawkers, my friends and neighbors, Robert, who was sitting behind me, and me. Terrible silence and anticipation spread through the air.