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Octavia Craig
The Moonshiner's Wife
The Moonshiner's Wife
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Lydia Fowler lives a hardscrabble life with a drunk and abusive husband. When a stranger appears in the woods with a dying man in tow, her life is changed forever.
Persuaded by a man she hardly knows to run away with him, Lydia soon learns that life is more practical than romantic. And when life lands her at Miss Lilly's House, she finds she must take control of her own life, even if that means lifting her skirts.
Set in the middle of the roaring 1920s, this is the first of many stories to come from Miss Lilly's House.
EXCERPT:
His breathing slowed and he buried his nose in my hair. I’m sure it smelled like the mash at the still, a little bit like moldy bread and musty corn, but he didn’t seem to mind. Just like I didn’t so much mind the smell of sweat and old liquor on him.
For a moment, it felt like before my marriage, when the touch of a man’s body was unknown and exciting and made me feel all rubbery and weak in a good way. His arms around me, his lips next to my ear, I wondered if it was a feeling like this that made that girl run away with Benny. Was this brother worth such a risk?
For just one moment, I thought about running away with this man. My god, I didn’t even know his name, but I wanted to be with him, comfort him, take some of the awful burden of pain away from him. I wanted to hold him and rock him to sleep and feel him on my skin. His arms were solid and gentle at the same time, which even in his suffering didn’t hurt me like my husband’s. This man had shot at me and still somehow I trusted him more than Jack.
This man truly loved his brother. I didn’t think I’d ever met someone who loved like this man did. Even when my brother died, my father didn’t cry, and with seven other children, my mother didn’t really have time to. Jack cried all of the time, but they were hot, selfish tears, meant to make me pity and forgive him.
For a small, small moment, I saw what real love was like. And I hungered for it.
Persuaded by a man she hardly knows to run away with him, Lydia soon learns that life is more practical than romantic. And when life lands her at Miss Lilly's House, she finds she must take control of her own life, even if that means lifting her skirts.
Set in the middle of the roaring 1920s, this is the first of many stories to come from Miss Lilly's House.
EXCERPT:
His breathing slowed and he buried his nose in my hair. I’m sure it smelled like the mash at the still, a little bit like moldy bread and musty corn, but he didn’t seem to mind. Just like I didn’t so much mind the smell of sweat and old liquor on him.
For a moment, it felt like before my marriage, when the touch of a man’s body was unknown and exciting and made me feel all rubbery and weak in a good way. His arms around me, his lips next to my ear, I wondered if it was a feeling like this that made that girl run away with Benny. Was this brother worth such a risk?
For just one moment, I thought about running away with this man. My god, I didn’t even know his name, but I wanted to be with him, comfort him, take some of the awful burden of pain away from him. I wanted to hold him and rock him to sleep and feel him on my skin. His arms were solid and gentle at the same time, which even in his suffering didn’t hurt me like my husband’s. This man had shot at me and still somehow I trusted him more than Jack.
This man truly loved his brother. I didn’t think I’d ever met someone who loved like this man did. Even when my brother died, my father didn’t cry, and with seven other children, my mother didn’t really have time to. Jack cried all of the time, but they were hot, selfish tears, meant to make me pity and forgive him.
For a small, small moment, I saw what real love was like. And I hungered for it.
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