A young brave rested on one knee at the edge of a wide, powerful stream on the northern plains of America’s glorious past. This was his land, the land of his forefathers, yet he still twitched with anticipation, all senses firing … the plains were alive, dangerous, life there was as fragile as the shell of a robin’s egg.
Anna never did marry. Never got around to it she’d say. But she had hundreds of kids over the years and countless intimate relationships that played out in beautiful, unexpected and deeply personal ways in places far, far away … right next door.
You’re being watched. Spies are everywhere, monitoring your every move. They go where you go, tap into your private conversations. They try to invade your thoughts and if you’re out of earshot they’ll be reading your lips.