Hollis feared the loneliness would swallow him whole. He had arrived in Wyoming to fulfill his uncle’s dying wish – that he save the people of Gillette – but his education and faith had not prepared him for the bitter cold and hardened hearts of the west. A dark secret in his new home threatens to destroy his very soul. Will Hollis be strong enough to stand against the tide of evil? Can he overcome where stronger men failed, before the west claims another victim?
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Excerpt
Cold bit his hand when he gripped the rail as he exited the train. James had been right; this was a wholly different cold than Tennessee. The snow had seemed the same out the window during the trip, though the land was flat and featureless. The cabin was cold during the trip, cold enough to see his breath, but not cold enough to reach his bones. He had wrongly assumed it would be the same outside. The clear sky had only a few traces of clouds and a bright sun, which had lent its warmth to the window in the cabin.
As he stepped down onto the crunching frozen snow of Cheyenne, the sun might as well have been a ball of bright ice. The wind ripped at his face with cold that burned and it tore through his clothes like they were tattered curtains. James had said to be prepared, and Hollis had thought he was but now he knew it was impossible to prepare for this. The lining of his nostrils froze and his scalp felt like it was being pierced with a thousand little needles. The air in his lungs was so cold that he began to cough like a backroom painted woman after too many years in the sheets.
Excerpt
Cold bit his hand when he gripped the rail as he exited the train. James had been right; this was a wholly different cold than Tennessee. The snow had seemed the same out the window during the trip, though the land was flat and featureless. The cabin was cold during the trip, cold enough to see his breath, but not cold enough to reach his bones. He had wrongly assumed it would be the same outside. The clear sky had only a few traces of clouds and a bright sun, which had lent its warmth to the window in the cabin.
As he stepped down onto the crunching frozen snow of Cheyenne, the sun might as well have been a ball of bright ice. The wind ripped at his face with cold that burned and it tore through his clothes like they were tattered curtains. James had said to be prepared, and Hollis had thought he was but now he knew it was impossible to prepare for this. The lining of his nostrils froze and his scalp felt like it was being pierced with a thousand little needles. The air in his lungs was so cold that he began to cough like a backroom painted woman after too many years in the sheets.
About the Author
A storyteller from a young age David was born and raised in Wyoming. His twenties were spent traveling and experiencing the world. He now spends his time in McKeesport Pennsylvania with his wife Emily. He has been writing since he was a child, enjoying success in the young authors program, local literary magazines, and blogging.
A storyteller from a young age David was born and raised in Wyoming. His twenties were spent traveling and experiencing the world. He now spends his time in McKeesport Pennsylvania with his wife Emily. He has been writing since he was a child, enjoying success in the young authors program, local literary magazines, and blogging.
Follow David online:
Facebook @ https://www.facebook.com/davidmillicanauthor
Website @ https://www.davidamillicaniii.com
Twitter @ www.twitter.com/@davidamillican3
