The next day, Missus Patty’s husband meets me as I walk up the drive to the old plantation house. He is up to no good. I know it from the way he is smiling at me. “Do you like livin’ over in that whorehouse, Sweets? I saw you at your granny’s house yesterday when Della tried to move in. You show did grow up pretty. Too pretty to be so slow.” That’s what folks call me. They call me Sweets. Always have. No one bothers us at Mr. Slicks, I think to myself. It could be worse. I co

“Look at her, Momma.” Momma would hold me up and plead from her front yard. “She’s a beautiful baby. She never cries or fusses. Folks say she looks like you and Gram.” Grammy would go inside and close the door the way she always did. I remember one time in particular when I was around three Momma took me to see Gram. It was setting in that I would never talk. Kids younger than me were talking and singing and I had never made a sound. “Momma.” She pleaded. “Something isn’t rig

Some folks inherit land, jewelry, and money. I inherited Grammy and Momma’s place in the Dearborn household. Grammy and Momma were nannies and tutors. I was put to work in the kitchen when I was old enough to peel potatoes on account of me being mute. I wash laundry and clean slop pots. Grammy retired to her little house five years ago when she got too old to be useful to her precious Dearborns. Old Missus Sedonia Dearborn was retired around the same time as Grammy. Sedonia i

I have exciting news! On May 22, the first chapter of Dirty White Boy will be available to read for a monthly fee! Also on the calendar is a novella from my Sugar Baby series and the rewrite of Mercy from Kindle Vella! Join me on this new writing journey. New chapters will drop weekly! Choose a tier to start reading!