(Excerpt from the novel Frances Grubb by Angie Tonucci) “This,” Brigid began in barely louder than a whisper, “is the legend of our...

The thing is, you never really know a person until after he’s dead and maybe, not even then. But you can sure tell a lot more about him...

The clock is fast. Very fast. I stare at the red second hand ticking in slow circles around the face, and I count Mississippis just like...

“Mom, you hafta sign this.” Rosie’s mom lifted her eyebrows and reached for the paper her daughter had slapped onto the kitchen counter....