![]() ![]() ![]() He’d rented a little house in one of the many suburbs that were mostly empty these days. Teaching seventh grade at his hometown middle school wasn't Sam's dream job, but when his dad had been injured on the job and needed some help around the house, Sam had little choice but to go home. Besides, the sooner he finished, the sooner the summer would be his. His students were expecting their grades on Monday, and no one was more demanding than whiny thirteen-year-old middle schoolers. The end of spring semester meant Sam had a stack of final exams to grade before the weekend was over. ![]() Unfortunately, in the real world, he didn't have the luxury of doing nothing. When the wind battered against his windows and thunder and lightning shook the very foundation of the little house he called home, Sam wanted nothing more than to curl up in front of the fire with something mindless on television to drown out the noise. Thunderstorms freaked the ever loving hell out of Sam, and he was man enough to admit it. ![]() No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.Ĭover and symbols designed by A.J. Copyright of the collection © 2020 by Macy Blakeįormatted by Leslie Copeland, LesCourt Author Services ![]()
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