Ashley’s Love: Book One, Chapter 1

  • Posted on October 26, 2023 at 8:41 pm

Note from JetBoy: You may remember Rosey M from her delightful tale of the confusion and joy of first-time lesbian love, “What’s With That Girl?” I’ve hoped ever since to see her grace us with something new, and now she has: the first book of a novel that draws heavily on her own experiences as a young girl, growing up gay with her lesbian sister and disturbed mother. It’s very different from her previous story and, in my humble opinion, even better. Don’t miss this one, readers.

I should mention that this is a slow burning story, one that takes its sweet time getting to the actual sex. If that’s a problem, go read something else, preferably at a different website. The rest of you, please stick around — it’s going to be well worth it.

Rosey wishes to extend heartfelt thanks to BlueJean for editing this story.

by Rosey M

March 14, 1996 – Ashley

It’s funny; I remember that night like it happened just yesterday. I was lying on the floor in my room when Mom threw the door open and told me that her water broke. She was upset and in pain, and I had no clue what I was supposed to do.

I called Mom’s friend Heather, and she wanted to know where my dad was. I told her truthfully that he’d already left for the bar. She didn’t sound very happy about it, and Mom took a break from hyperventilating to shoot me a warning glare. What, was I supposed to lie? She assured me the baby would be fine, which wasn’t something I was all that worried about to begin with.

Eventually Heather came to pick Mom up, and I was left behind to track down Dad.

I dusted off the Yellow Pages to start calling bars in the area, and eventually found the one he was in. After a quick explanation he hung up the phone, and half an hour later came by the house to grab some things for Mom. He cracked me upside the head shortly after he got in for ‘saying things I didn’t need to be saying’. Apparently he called the hospital to check in, and Heather got hold of the phone to chew him out. Eventually he left, and I went to bed.

I didn’t want to consider the ways my life was about to change, and I fell asleep thinking about how unnecessary this new member of our family would be. I barely registered in my parents’ eyes; no way would this kid get treated any better.


Dad came home in the morning to tell me my new sister was born, then without any other details, told me to clean the house while Mom was gone.

I did as he said, and in addition to the cleaning, I prepared quick meals for both of us, because he wouldn’t cook.

I had to wait until he left the house before I could vacuum the floor – he absolutely hated the noise; especially when he came home late, reeking of booze. Listening to the crackle of the vacuum across the carpet, I couldn’t stop thinking about this sister I now had. Why were they getting her? Was I not good enough for them? I mean, I know Dad didn’t think I was worth more than the crud on his boot soles, but I thought Mom valued me at least a little!

I spent the rest of the day fuming about how little I mattered to anyone. Late at night, as I was lying in bed, I did my best to stifle my frustrated sobs, the sound of the slamming front door resounding through the house as Dad returned from one of his drinking sessions.


The following day, my mom called and told me that I could come and see them.

Next thing I knew, I was sitting in the car with my dad, trying to ignore the smoke from the cigarette between his fingers. He complained about all the trouble this new kid would bring into our lives; how there would be less money and food for everyone, how the screaming and crying would keep us all up at night, how I’d have more responsibility, and how all the attention I usually got would go to my sister instead. It was too early to risk the smack he was trying to goad me into earning, so I just bit my tongue.

Besides, what attention? In the seven and a half years of my life up to that point, Mom and Dad hardly noticed me. Heck, I can barely remember the times when they did. Mom loves to brag about what a well-behaved girl I was, like she had anything to do with it. But that aside, Dad made some good points. I already hadn’t wanted a little sister; now I wanted one even less.

We eventually got to the hospital and found our way to the maternity unit. Once we reached Mom’s room, my eyes immediately locked onto her face. She looked tired, but so happy and content as she held the baby to her exposed breast. I felt a twinge of jealousy as I watched them; Mom never looked at me like that.

Once the baby was done suckling, she motioned for me to come closer. I approached the bed and let her place the baby into my arms. “Ashley, this is your little sister, Rhonda.”

As I looked down at the bundle in my arms, I was immediately struck with a feeling of revulsion. This… this thing was supposed to be my baby sister? I figured it must be some sort of weird joke. But nobody was laughing, and it eventually dawned on me that they were completely serious.

Mom reached over to lightly hug me against her for a moment, then took Rhonda back. She was showing so much love and adoration for this creature. She even began talking to it in a stupid baby voice. “Rhonda, that’s your big sister Ashley! She’s gonna protect you, juuuuuust like a big sister should!”

I had to hold back a snort. That was never going to happen.


February 25, 1997 – Ashley

A lot had changed over the course of a year. Mom cooed and fawned over Rhonda for the first few months, while I did my best to make myself scarce around the little beast. My hair certainly doesn’t miss the feel of those grabby little monster hands as they roughly grasped handfuls back in those days. The smile she’d look up at me with was the only thing stopping me from getting too mad whenever she did it.

Mom eventually started bugging me to help take care of Rhonda – I guess the excitement of having a new baby doesn’t last forever. Especially when the constant crying began, and Rhonda would go at it for hours. I wanted to scream back at her to just shut up, but somehow I always stopped myself. I mean, it wasn’t the baby’s fault that Mom didn’t know how to take care of her.

Oddly enough, Rhonda would always stop crying if I was the one to hold her and try to calm her down. Her hands would cling to my hair – thankfully, she was a lot gentler by that point – and she’d settle down and cuddle into me. Mom said it was ‘meant to be’, and that’s why it was ‘only right that you spend more time with your sister’. I was taught how to change her diapers, how to prepare her food, how to play with her, and even how to bathe her.

At first I hated it. I hated how my whole life had changed because of a choice my parents made, and how their responsibility was pushed on me because they didn’t care enough to bother. I could barely find time to go outside and play, because there was a baby at home who I knew wouldn’t be looked after properly if I stayed out for too long.

Once I found a way to balance school and look after my baby sister, I found I was okay with how things turned out. The first time Rhonda pointed at me and addressed me as “Ah!” was one of the best days of my life, and I wouldn’t have that memory if she hadn’t been born.

By then, I was happy to be there for Rhonda; she’d never have to experience being alone, wondering if anyone cared about her. I loved her more than anything in the world; she’d always have big sister Ashley to look after her.

That day, I was sitting watching TV while Rhonda sat by my feet playing with her blocks on the floor. She looked so adorable crawling around in front of me, wearing the red jumper I picked out for her that morning.

Then Mom entered the room, interrupting our peaceful time together. I was immediately hit with the smell of cheap booze. She and Dad had started fighting again, and she always got hammered after an especially bad one. It was so gross to have to be around that kind of thing, day in and day out.

“How are my girls doing?” Mom slurred, scooping Rhonda off the floor and rocking her in her arms.

Rhonda started crying and reaching her arms out toward me. “Ah! Ah!”

She’d only been in the room a few seconds, and already managed to upset Rhonda. I angrily held out my hands toward my mother. “You made her cry. Give her to me.”

Mom made no move to hand her over, so I stood up and pulled Rhonda out of her arms. She didn’t try to stop me. Instead, she slumped onto the couch and put her face in her hands, sobbing almost as loudly as Rhonda. I cradled my sister in my arms, whispering words of comfort to her until she finally stopped crying.

I smiled down at Rhonda, giving her cheek a little poke. She giggled back at me as she swiped for my finger. “Ah!”

“Yes, it’s your Ashley, Rhonda!”

Rhonda laughed happily and called out, “Ash!”

She’d just said my name!

Mom was still crying, the hitch of her voice growing more frequent after my baby sister’s unexpected first word. Maybe she was upset because it wasn’t ‘Mama’ or ‘Dada’ Rhonda had called out, I don’t know. But of course Rhonda would say my name instead of theirs. She was mine, after all.

I bounced Rhonda in my arms, cooing to draw her attention while Mom sobbed next to us. Thankfully, I had my little sister’s chubby little cheeks to keep me occupied as she smiled lovingly up at me.

She was so cute; the only thing that made me feel like my life meant anything. If only it could last forever.


June 6, 2001 – Rhonda

“Shut the fuck up, you stupid bitch!”

“Fuck you!”

The sound of glass smashing always triggers one of my earliest memories, and I can’t help but think back to that night. It was what finally made me take my blanket with me as I crawled under my bed to curl into a ball.

I hated when my parents would fight like that; their constant shouting only got worse as the night dragged on. I was scared, but I couldn’t do anything to stop them.

A couple of months prior, I tried to get in between them after they’d started drinking, but Dad screamed at me, swatting me on the butt so hard I cried. My sister Ashley shrieked and launched herself at him, but he struck her in the face, knocking her to the ground. Mom got even madder and started throwing things at him. Everything gets hazy after that.

I couldn’t stand the fighting, but when I tried to intervene, I always seemed to make everything worse. I could never do anything right with them.

I wasn’t able to fight my tears, body quivering as I quietly cried in the safety of my hiding spot. My bedroom door opened a crack and a small, silent figure slipped in. Bare feet came to a stop in front of my bed, and I felt myself tensing. I was pretty sure it was the one person I could always rely on to comfort me, but I could never be completely certain without hearing her say my name.

“Rhonda?” a gentle voice called out to me, and I could feel my body immediately relax.

“I’m down here, Ashley.”

My eleven-year-old sister fell to her knees to peer under the bed, her dark eyes gleaming in the glow of the streetlight outside. I could just barely make out the design of her apple-print pajamas, and the loose black hair that hid part of her face until she brushed it back behind her ear.

She shimmied under the bed to join me. I didn’t resist when she took one end of the blanket from me, pulling it over herself. I felt one of her arms wrap around my shoulders to draw me near, and I huddled against her; melting into the warmth and safety she offered.

As long as I can remember, Ashley has been there to protect me. Mom and Dad never seemed to have much time to spend with me, too busy screaming at each other to even look in my direction. But not Ashley – she’s the best sister a girl could ever want.

She’d listen to me whenever I’d tell her all the fun I had playing with my friends, or ask me what I learned at school that day. She was always happy to play silly games, or sit and watch my favorite movies with me. When I cried, she held me and wiped my tears, her hugs so tight I felt like she wanted to squeeze and squeeze and never let go.

I never minded that all-encompassing embrace. To this day, I love how protected it makes me feel. She’d laugh when I did something funny, and was always smiling when she saw me happy. She was there when I needed to be told everything is okay, and I always believed her.

I don’t know how long we’d been lying there when I realized the house had gone quiet. Ashley’s fingers were stroking my hair as I rested my head against her.

“Do you think they’re done?” I murmured.

My sister’s fingers paused for the briefest of moments before continuing their soothing task. “Yeah, they’ve either made up or passed out. But they’re not going to shout anymore tonight. You’re safe, Rhonda. I’m here.”

The calm surety of her words helped erase some of the lingering tension in the air, and I could feel myself getting sleepy as we lay under the bed together. “Can you stay here tonight?”

I heard Ashley’s small laugh as she tightened her arms around me. “Of course, Rhonda. I’m not leaving you.”

I whispered, “Good night. I love you, Ashley.”

I could feel her body tremble against mine before relaxing. As I dozed off, my mind dimly registered Ashley saying, “I love you too, Rhonda. I’ll love you forever.”

She’s always been so sweet…


February 13, 2003 – Rhonda

As I entered the classroom that day and took my jacket off, I noticed the teacher had put all kinds of colored construction paper and art supplies on our desks. I’ve always loved art. Maybe not as much as my sister Ashley does, but she taught me how fun it could be to make things with your own two hands.

Our teacher Ms. Walker waited for everyone to take their seats before she addressed us. “Okay, class! Since it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow, we’re going to be making cards to take home to our families.

“Everyone take a few pieces of construction paper, and start thinking about what you want to make. I’ll be going around the room to check on you all, but if you need any help, just raise your hand.”

After a minute of deliberation, I grabbed four different colors. I wanted to make a red and pink card for Mom, and a black and orange one for Ashley. She’s always loved spooky and dark things, so I was sure she’d like it!

I went to work, deciding to do Ashley’s card first. After a while, Ms. Walker approached and knelt down to examine my work. “That looks really nice, Rhonda! Is Ashley your sister?”

I nodded enthusiastically in response. “Yup! I love her a lot, so I want to make a card with her favorite colors on it!”

Ms. Walker squeezed my shoulder and said, “Well, I’m sure she’ll really appreciate the personal touch! Let me know if I can help with anything, okay?” But even as she moved away to check on my classmates, I knew I would never ask. That was mine to work on; nobody could make a card for Ashley but me!


The next day, I gave Mom her card before school. She thanked me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Ashley’s class was on a field trip that day and she had to leave early in the morning, so I had to give her the card after school instead.

In spite of barely getting to see Ashley, it was a very fun day! We had paper bags shaped like hearts taped to our desks and everyone went around putting Valentine’s Day cards into them. Everyone seemed to like the Sailor Moon cards I gave out, and I got some really cool ones, too! The Monsters Inc. ones were probably my favorite; I adored Sulley!

It didn’t hurt my good mood that the chocolate and cupcakes we had in class were really good as well! I always thought it was so cool how some of the kid’s parents would bring in treats like that for all of us. I couldn’t wait to see Ashley to tell her all about it!

I could hear the TV playing loudly in the living room as soon as I got home. I quietly hung my jacket, then tiptoed through the hallway so I could surprise Ashley. Right as I reached the door, she called out my name. How’d she know I was there!? I leapt into the living room yelling, “Here I am!”

Ashley shrieked and bolted upright, pulling her hand hastily out from under her skirt, then flattening the fabric against her thighs. “Rhonda! When did you get home!?”

I stood in front of her, puzzled. “What do you mean? You knew I was home; you just called out to me.”

Her cheeks reddened. “A-anyway! Never mind that. What’s up? How was school today?”

I wanted to ask why she seemed so flustered, but I shrugged it off and smiled at her. “It was amazing! I got lots of cards, and we ate chocolate. Oh! I have a gift for you! Let me go get it!”

I hurried to my room to grab her card. When I brought it over to the couch, my sister was looking far more calm and composed than she’d been thirty seconds before.

As I sat next to her and handed over the card, I felt the warmth of her body through the fabric of her skirt. Ashley opened up her Valentine’s gift and just stared in silence at what I’d written. I started to get nervous. Didn’t she like it?

“Is something wrong, Ashley?”

She turned her head to gaze at me, and I was shocked to see tears in her eyes. “No, nothing’s wrong. I love it, Rhonda. I love you. Thank you so much for the card. Wait right here.”

She bolted off the couch and went to her room, returning a short while later to hand me a chocolate heart wrapped in red paper. Wiping her eyes, she gave me an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Rhonda. I wish I’d thought a little harder this year, and made you something as nice as you made me. But this is all I got for you.”

I took my gift and put it on the coffee table, then launched myself into her for a big hug. “This is plenty! You know I love chocolate, Ashley. Thanks so much!”

Ashley held me tightly, and we lay on the couch together, contentedly enjoying each other’s warmth in front of the TV until Mom got home and shooed us upstairs to tidy up our rooms.


September 17, 2004 – Rhonda

I giggled as I skillfully evaded my friend Maria’s swiping hand. We were at the playground playing cops and robbers with other kids from school, and I’d quickly proved my mettle as one of the quickest thieves around.

Our backpacks were scattered into various piles on the ground as bags of loot, and my skill at snatching them up and safely making it back to home base under the slide was unparalleled. I was the greatest!

I deposited my ill-gotten gains and jumped back into the fray.

I sprinted toward the farthest pile, untouched since nobody else was willing to risk the extra distance. As I grabbed one of the bags and began to make my journey back, I was set upon by three kids at once, all intent on stopping the most notorious robber in the realm. Didn’t they know they could never catch Rapid Rhonda!?

I faked like I was going to run past to the left, then as they moved to stop me, broke fast and rushed past their right side instead. As they hollered and gave chase again, I laughed triumphantly, reveling in their futile attempts to apprehend me.

Suddenly, I thought I felt the weight of a familiar gaze on me, and in that moment turned my head to look back at my hapless pursuers. I can only assume that lapse in concentration caused my foot to hit a loose scattering of pebbles. I slipped and began to tumble forward, my hands held out in an attempt to break my fall. My right hand and knee scraped along the rough concrete as I came to an abrupt halt.

A voice was yelling my name, but I couldn’t focus on it due to the stinging pain. Everyone winced and sucked air through their teeth before crowding around to see if I was okay.

Thankfully, the backpack in my left hand cushioned the fall, preventing any further injuries. I let it go and rolled over to grab my leg, rocking back and forth in pain. It was only bleeding a little, but the skin on my knee was bright red and badly scraped, as was the palm of my right hand.

My eyes watered from the stinging sensation, but in the distance I saw a dark figure sprinting across the playground toward us. It was Ashley.

As she got closer, the crowd parted, and she immediately dropped to her knees to inspect the damage. The panic in her face slowly evaporated when she saw the extent of my injuries, and she cradled my body against hers. “Oh, Rhonda. That looks like it really hurts! Are you okay?”

I nodded, trying to put on a brave front, but my tearful eyes gave me away. Ashley wrapped my arms around her neck, then hoisted me onto her back as she straightened up. She asked Susie to go get my backpack for me, so my friend hurried off to retrieve it.

As Ashley told them I was done playing for the day, and that she’d be taking me home, I found myself tuning everyone else out, until only my big sister was left. All I could focus on was the warmth of Ashley’s body, which made the throbbing in my hand and knee seem unimportant.

Ashley released one of my legs to take my backpack from Susie, hanging it on her arm while she supported my body. I waved mutely to the other kids as we left. What must they have thought of me for getting so cocky, then wiping out like a dork? God, I was so embarrassed I could die!

I buried my face in Ashley’s neck as she carried me from the playground and onto the sidewalk. I breathed in her familiar scent, and found it helped keep me from worrying about my cuts and scrapes. Nothing else has ever soothed quite like being close to my sister.

But I couldn’t figure out why she was even there to begin with. She was sixteen by then; much too grown up to want to play kiddie games with us, and I hadn’t seen her at any point before or during. “Were you there the whole time, Ashley? I didn’t see you.”

She gently squeezed my thighs, a chuckle escaping her lips. “Yeah, I was watching the whole thing from the bench across the playground. I wanted to check up on you. You were fast! Faster than all the other kids. Sucks about your fall at the end there; it’s a drag your streak ended like that.”

“But aren’t you too old to watch us play? Must’ve been boring.”

Ashley gave a thoughtful hum, then shrugged. “I mean, I wouldn’t watch if it was just a bunch of random kids, but it’s never boring when you’re there. I love watching you in your element like that; you always look so happy.”

There wasn’t much I could say to that, so I just allowed my sister to carry me the rest of the way home, warmed inside by the sweetness of her words.

She brought me into the bathroom, where I was gently deposited onto the bathroom vanity. Turning to face me, she reached into the medicine cabinet above my head, her boobs now at eye level.

I’d watched the swell of her breasts slowly increase over the years, and couldn’t help but peek at them whenever they were in my line of sight. Ashley had caught me looking several times, and would just smile and thrust her chest out, almost like she was offering her titties to me. I always figured she was making fun of me, so I’d scowl in protest. Ashley, she’d just laugh it off.

Now I could only sit transfixed as Ashley’s tits lightly brushed my face while she leaned forward to grab some things from the top shelf. She brought down cotton balls, a box of bandages, and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. “This is gonna sting, okay, Rhonda?”

Making a face, I slowly nodded. Ashley poured some of the rubbing alcohol onto a cotton ball, then took my right hand, holding it tightly as she wiped down my scrape. Hissing in pain, I tried to pull away, but she held me fast until the job was done.

Bringing my hand up to her lips, Ashley pressed gentle kisses against my sore palm. It felt really soothing, and I was glad it was my big sister doing this.

She looked up at me, concern written on her face. “This next one’s really gonna hurt, Rhonda…”

I couldn’t keep from crying out when the soaked cotton came into contact with the scrapes on my knee. I was still whimpering a little when she tried to talk me through it. “Shh, shh, Rhonda. It’s almost over. This one was a bit worse than your hand, but I’m almost done, okay?”

I yelped when she took another cotton ball to my knee. When she was finished, she knelt and began kissing the scrapes on my knee to make me feel better.

My pain began to fade as her lips slowly trailed from my knee and began peppering my thigh, the ticklish sensation making me giggle. Ashley would get so sweet and loving when we were together like this; treating me like I meant everything to her.

When she gets married and has a baby, that’ll be the luckiest kid in the whole world, I told myself.

Then I had another, less happy thought. When she leaves you to take care of someone else.

I remember how that thought made my heart ache. I wished we could stay like that forever; that I could be the only one she ever looked at. Like she was looking at me in that moment, her gaze so brilliant I thought I might burn from its intensity.

Ashley paused in the midst of lavishing my leg with kisses, but her mouth remained where it was, pressed to my skin. She inhaled deeply, as if smelling something intoxicating, then released a shaky breath. With that, her kisses resumed their journey up my thigh until her lips grazed the hem of my shorts.

The feather-light sensation of her lips finally got to be too much for me. I laughed as I put both hands on Ashley’s head and pushed her away. “Knock it off, Ashley! That tickles!”

She stood up with a smile, kissing my brow before stepping back. “Hop off the counter and go lay down for a bit, okay? I’ll be in my room for a while, then maybe we can make dinner together.”

Ashley helped me to my room so I could rest, then went back to her own.

I remember lying there trying to make sense of the confusing thoughts I was having about my sister – wanting to be her one-and-only, of hoping she never got married or went to live with anyone else. Of needing to be with her forever.

As I did my best to ignore all these feelings and take a nap, I thought I heard a stifled moan from somewhere nearby.

On to Chapter Two!


15 Comments on Ashley’s Love: Book One, Chapter 1

  1. Lakeisha says:

    Wonderful beginning. Looking forward to the reading chapter two:)

  2. Michael V says:

    Dear Roseta M

    I really enjoyed the slow buildup of this first chapter. Sister to sister incest is such a wonderful image to observe the deep love both characters have expressed for each other. I hope this will be the first of many chapters.

    I believe you are showing great talent and storytelling. I hope we will continue soon with chapter 2.

    Thanks again for such enjoyable writing,

  3. Captain Midnight says:

    Ashley and Rhonda deserve each other. This is a wonderful tale of love.

  4. Erocritique says:

    OK, I’m totally hooked. A very strong (and powerfully moving) opening chapter. I’ll definitely be on the lookout for the next installment. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

  5. Kim & Sue says:

    Great beginning. One of us had a hard time getting past the opening, as it brought flashbacks of abusive parents. But it felt honest to the story and not just a plot device for attention.

    I guess we know where this is headed but we enjoy the establishing of a loving sister relationship. Good work Rosey M and editor.

  6. Bryan says:

    Great start

  7. Cassandrablue says:

    I was deeply moved from the beginning. The alcoholism and abuse is dealt with in such a real manner, it brought tears to my eyes. The pacing and detail of the story-telling compels one to keep reading. I am ready for Chapter 2.

  8. JetBoy says:

    Thanks for all the praise. From the first chapter, I knew this was going to be something special, and it warms the crusty old heart to see our readers respond exactly as we’d hoped. Stay tuned.

  9. Jacqueline Jillinghoff says:

    Nicely written. I can forgive the slow buildup as the author establishes the relationship between the sisters. It will make the action, if I may use that word, all the more meaningful when it arrives. — One question: are the sisters writing from the vantage point of age? They certainly don’t sound like kids.

  10. Rosey says:

    Thank you so much for your kind words, everyone! I hope I can live up to your expectations!

    Jacqueline, the story is kinda sorta written from the perspective of their older selves reminiscing on their respective lives. I can’t say I’m completely sticking the landing on executing it, but I’m going to continue trying my best!

    • BlueJean says:

      It’s also worth mentioning that the story was originally written in present tense, so some residue of that may still be evident in the current version. For example, the lines with exclamation marks might give the impression of a child narrating, but I didn’t feel the need to remove them all.

      Well done on the story, Rosey. I’m glad it’s been well received.

  11. kinkys_sis says:

    Slow build — what slow build? I call it setting the scene and it did that perfectly. I get to know and feel the characters before we are taken to whatever is to come.

    As a general thing, I don’t like switching perspectives. I had to reread a few lines to get back on track. But I guess that’s just me. I have written the same way myself, but I never felt comfortable with what I’d written.

    This first chapter has grabbed my attention in a way that not many stories do… I’m already impatient for chapter two.

    There’s quite an age gap between my sister and me, yet strangely, we feel like equals. That’s what love does.

    PS. I mentioned Sis. She loved this opening chapter as well.

  12. Powertenor246 says:

    This is a fantasmagorical beginning to a very addictive story. You switched a bit abruptly to Rhonda’s view of things, but once I made that shift, all was well. I really enjoy a slow build up of great tension between characters I can identify with and have come to care about. Don’t get me wrong, the sex does have to be there, and described in careful enough detail to play as a 3DMax movie in my head. But, the people that are written about must also be just believable enough so you care about them, but not so much that it will set off a crying fit if they happen to come to harm in the course of the story. We, as readers, need to feel connected to your people. When we are, something magical happens. Like Ms. Rachel Yukey’s wonderful story about the paramedic in a small town. She writes brilliantly. You could certainly not do badly if you were to emulate her. Also the story about Captain Bren is another particularly good and interesting one. Like the History Guy says, “Don’t all good stories involve Pirates?” I have prattled on too much already, good day.


  13. Rusty says:

    Only through the first few paragraphs and I’m already loving this story. It seems to be honest and real, knowing from experience.

  14. Mike says:

    It’s lovely and heartwarming to see how much Ashley looks after her sister, I’m sure this happens a lot more than people think with having drunk & violent parents.
    Superbly written and fingers crossed that Ashley & Rhonda’s parents disappear & a kindly Aunt takes them in

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