Before I post the sample from my novel, I want to say that Heidi Sutherlin (@heidisutherlin on Twitter) from www.mycreativepursuits.com did a PHENOMENAL job on the cover for the ebook for Amazon. It fits the story perfectly.
Chapter One of Josephine: Red Dirt and WhiskeyShe saw the small, green clad figure walking passed on the wet, muddy, red-streaked road and she smirked to herself as she rocked forward on the creaky, paint-chipped porch.
“I wonder where that girl thinks she is heading. She ain’t going to look so clean when she gets there, no, not today, all that red mud everywhere.”
She rocked methodically, as if there were some goal towards which she was progressing. Her face never fully relaxed from the smirk because her hair was pulled back so tight that it caused her face to stay in a constant state of distortion. It could have been a truly sympathetic smile she had on her face for the girl on the road, but the knots of hair twisted into white, shredded rags all over her head distorted everything about her appearance. She had spent two hours twisting and knotting each piece of hair around those torn pieces of cloth. Her arms had started to hurt, but she kept twisting and tying. Her arms went numb, and she still tied and twisted. When she was finally finished, she went and sat on the porch. Her arms throbbed and tingly sparks of pain traveled from her wrists to her shoulders. She’d started pressing her dress and “putting on her face”, but she needed to sit down for a little rest. She didn’t think her hair looked all that special curly, but he had told her he liked it. So, she curled her hair at least every other day.
He’d be over this evening, some time. She knew he would. He would come by tonight. He always came by eventually, so she knew he would. She never quite knew when he was going to arrive, so she tried to always have herself ready by five o’clock or so. They had been together for a little over three months, and she alternately loved and hated him. Sometimes she would get so mad at him, she would tell him she never wanted to see him again. But, he’d always do something twice as sweet as whatever he’d done to upset her, and the making up always made the fights worth it. Whenever she’d try to pin him down for plans, he’d say he’d be around when he could or that he couldn’t make plans that far in advance, not like Samuel. No, he was nothing like Samuel. She continued to rock. Her face settled into a grimace as she began to think back over the trail her life had taken to get her here, sitting on the porch, staring out at the rut-filled, barren road, watching the neighbor girl, Mae, dodge mud-filled crater holes in the red road.