Part twelve of Poor Valley Witch.
The witch was putting up barriers, and Landon wished with all his heart they weren’t pushing through them.
Welcome to part X of Poor Valley Witch, my little Appalachian gothic yarn.
He’d always had the impression that his grandmother didn’t like his mother.
Basically, the good guys always win while they’re winging it. Check it out.
“What’s this?” He took the tin from her, still holding the ring in one hand.
I know I said you’re not that awesome, but I probably lied! I just wrote that to get your attention.
He picked it up and squinted at it: a small, gold ring, engraved crudely–scratched, more like.