| Sharon Baldacci, Author |
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| "A Sun Dog Moment" is engaging, original, and inspirational. This beautifully written first novel proves that brother David isn't the only Baldacci who inherited the writing genes." -Richard Paul Evans, New York Times bestselling author of The Christmas Box and A Perfect Day "A stunning debut novel...beautifully told with humor and warmth... You will love this story!" -Adriana Trigiani, Author of the Big Stone Gap trilogy and many other wonderful books. |
| Thank you so much for your emails of encouragement. I have been touched by your personal stories of hope. I am working on a sequel to sundogs but for the last few years I've been writing and rewriting my second novel, REFLECTED LIGHT. I would like to share some of this with you now and perhaps in time share a little more. Thanks again. sharon sharon@sharonbaldacci.com
Copyright 2010 "Every soul mirrors what feeds it the most: love , hate or all the shadows in between. But it's the lasting choices of the heart that will find its place in eternity"…anonymous. Chapter One Stuck in bumper kissing traffic the afternoon before Thanksgiving Day, Glory Lee Ward knew she should be exhausted. She had only slept snatches since the phone call. Instead, coils of adrenaline continued to gush through her. She breathed in deeply and let the air out slowly, hoping to ease some of the tension. She glanced at the busy city street, the little shops on either side. She shook her head; each window was already decorated for Christmas. When her hands started to throb, it was with great surprise she realized she had a death grip on the steering wheel. She slowly peeled her hands off, flexing each finger carefully, and winced a little as blood started flowing back in to the tips. Still waiting for the light to change so she could advance a few inches, she reached up and yanked off the rubber band holding her blond hair back and shook it loose. Finally, she felt her muscles loosen a little, the tension easing like a scatter of autumn leaves, a few at a time, floating down to earth. She had accomplished more in the last week than in the last month, and it was because of the determined anger that had welled up in her after the call. But she would never admit this to anyone, and most certainly not her mother who started it all. "Are you coming home for Thanksgiving?" Anna Mae Ward asked, her voice strongly indicating only one choice. Caught off guard by the fact this was the first time her mother had ever called since she'd left for college, Glory fumbled an uncertain answer and instantly knew that was a mistake. "I -uh, I'm not sure, Mother, I have a lot of papers due, most of them by Wednesday, but one professor offered a break - we can turn it in Friday. I thought if I needed, you know, more time I would stay and get it finished… " "And not come home at all?" Icy disbelief. Glory started to elaborate but her mother wasn't finished. "Do you realize you have barely been home at all in the last six months? And you are only in your first semester, you've only been in school since September. Yet you've been gone for months!" Anna Mae refused to admit that Glory had been right to leave immediately after high school graduation for a job on campus. "Your sister misses you terribly. I won't even say how you made her feel when you didn't come here after you said would…well." A tiny pause punctuated her disapproval. "Surely you can get your work done and be here? There will be 10 guests including you and I could use your help." The lie tightened Glory's jaw. "Mother, whenever I've tried to help, you tell me to go talk to the guests. Always and - " "I'm not going to argue with you, Glory Lee," Anna Mae interrupted, "Yes or no, are you coming home?" Glory wanted to say no but… "Yes, of course. I'll try to be there. Early…to help." "Fine." End of conversation. Replaying it all in her head, she closed her eyes briefly, and then jumped when she heard the car behind her blowing its horn. Rats, she must have actually dozed off. She inched forward and actually made the light. She turned on the radio and then turned it off when she heard Christmas music. Her thoughts centered on the real reason she was going home tomorrow: it was the miracle that was her little sister Katie. It filled her spirit with such lightness her soul fairly spun upward, even as she turned toward the small townhouse her father had bought years ago as an investment. It hugged the eastern side of the city campus and was ideal when she decided to attend here when she was a senior in high school. Although she could easily walk to her classes from home, when she worked she had to drive. The bookstore was only about five miles west at the medical campus of the school. On good days she could make it home in about 10 minutes. But today, everyone in the city must be leaving work early to get a jump on the holiday, she thought, glad not to be in a hurry to get anywhere. The sun was shining, and it was brisk weather, hovering on cool but far from cold. The thought of Katie brought a smile on her face as she turned into the driveway. What she saw on the front porch slapped it off. She stared, not moving, not breathing and not believing. Her heart was racing and surprise stripped her lungs of air. A clumsy flower arrangement, with yellow, pink and red roses, in different sizes, clumped together and looking like a failed grade school project sat on the top step of the porch. There was only one person who could have put this here - Keith Woodward, the lunatic who tried to rape her six months ago. |