Jennings gained the notorious title of alcoholic soccer-mom one
fateful night when her addiction caused a fatal car accident. Now,
she must find a way to survive in a cell the size of her walk-in
closet and protect her estranged teenage daughter, Deanna, who was
physically and emotionally scarred from the accident. The devil is
hiding behind a clergyman's collar, ready to devour another
She was fifteen years old and
alone. The first gulp of the dark liquid scorched her throat and
burned all the way down. Her eyes burned, and she fought the urge
to vomit. The second gulp went down a little easier. By the third,
the warmth inside began to surface toward her skin. As it settled
like a warm blanket around her, she knew she had found a way to
keep her secret, at least one day at a time. By the time she
finished the bottle, she was no longer ripping long strands of red
hair from her head.
Susan Jennings awoke from the dream,
shaking off the old memory that had haunted her for twenty years.
She squinted at the harsh fluorescent lights above her. Where was
she? Metal rails flanked either side of her. On the sterile green
wall directly across from her, a large round clock with a white
face and black hands hung next to a chalk board with the date,
April 3, 1982, written in bold, neat handwriting. Her husband,
Thomas, sat slumped in a straight-backed chair, his dark head
cradled in his hands. “What happened?” she whispered.
He jerked up when he heard her voice. Shadowy
circles surrounded his deep brown eyes. His rumpled shirt suggested
he had slept in the chair. Tears brimmed in his eyes. His words
were jagged and raw as he recapped what happened in halting
phrases. He looked in a state of shock.
“You missed the sign, the stop sign, Susan. The
other car couldn’t stop. Your car . . . the whole passenger side
crushed . . . the other car rolled.”
He sucked in his breath and wrung his hands, a
nervous habit. He fingered the tube which pushed oxygen through the
cannula in her nose. He squeezed the tube, blocking off the air. A
lock of his jet-black hair fell over his forehead.
His words brought back flickers of recollection
to her, the children laughing in the back seat, a white sedan
approaching from the right... crawling from the ditch… her late
model station wagon crushed almost beyond recognition… the sedan
rocking on its hood.
Accident - stomach turner for sureReading
this wonderful book filled with twists and turns really caught me.
How a tragedy, mistake can turn a life and also with a dark past.
Since I'm Swedish, I'm delighted by the Swedish touch, or more than
a touch. Not to give away too much for other who wants to read this
book - I do recommend warmly - it's a story that could be a true
story. Joanne brought up feelings that a true story would have
done. I can only say that the book is worth reading and it's also
unforgettable. Lisa from Sweden
turner! The author engages the reader with a fast paced, tear at
your heartstrings story - rollercoaster of emotions toward the main
character and how her actions affects those around her. Always like
a transformation story. Highly recommend.
begins with every parent's worst nightmare - that they are
responsible for their son's death. I was compelled to keep reading
as Susan's life deteriorated into deep dark places, including jail.
A slow reveal of a past secret which contributed to her downfall,
the likelihood of history repeating itself in her daughter's life,
and my need to discover how Susan could possibly redeem herself
kept me turning the pages.