It Is Done

I have finished the introduction for The Dead Mule! When I really sat down to work on it, I found the job fun. But I must say every time I have to write about myself or my work, I procrastinate. All this begins to happen next week. It's a big deal for me because the mule has never featured a fiction writer before. Yeah! 

Here's a tiny preview of the introduction:

Often I feel I’ve channeled the Black Mountain Stories from several of my eccentric relatives from long ago. I was born in Georgia and raised everywhere but Georgia until I was ten years old. That’s when my mother brought my brother and me back to live with my grandmother. It was then I began to absorb both wonderful and eerie tales told by my extended family. One of the first stories I heard upon arrival at my grandmother’s home was about a fighter pilot—an air force base was nearby—had crashed into the house down the street. The eighty-year old home was owned by two old maid sisters: one who had spent her life in a wheelchair and the other looking after her. The whole street ran to watch the fire. Some claim to have seen the pilot in the front seat of the jet trying to get out. Others claim to have heard one of the sisters screaming. The only survivor was the sister in the wheelchair. 

Ann