Leslie began her writing career as a stay-at-home-mom. Her life-long love for reading lead to reviewing books for Goodreads, Amazon and Jillian Dodd's Author Blog. Leslie is also the cofounder of The Indie Bookshelf, which hosts yearly author signings, primarily in the Dallas/FT Worth area.

When she is not writing, you will find her lunching with friends, sipping a cup of joe, binging on Netflix or working on a home DIY project.

Leslie lives in Texas with her husband, teenage son and daughter, and two very silly pugs. 

He knew me from the moment I stepped through the broken window.

Studying me.

Watching me.

Changing me.

I was unaware of him at first; my life was too out of control to notice. The constant moving and lack of money after Mom divorced Dad was turning her into a different person. All she did was drink and she was now this angry person I didn't want to know.

But once I stepped through the window inside that house, I could feel the peace surrounding me. Hugging my body as if it had arms. Protecting me. Loving me. It was like the house knew what I craved and it felt too good to question any of it. So I went back, day after day. I hungrily guzzled up the euphoria like a raging alcoholic, reaching for another drink.

Just like my mother…

Atticus

I check my pocket again, touching the small lump of black salt. It's my only defense. I have no idea if it will work but I have to do something. I just hope like hell I'm not too late. I'm instantly nauseated just thinking about it.


I make a right on Oak Lawn, parking two houses down before cutting the engine. I sneak out, barely clicking the door shut as I duck and run, sneaking across the lawn like I'm about to rob the place.


The house is quiet but as I get closer and slip through the broken out window, I can hear talking in the distance. I try to be as quiet I can, but my heart is practically bursting through my chest, requiring me to take quick breaths. If I'm not careful, I'm sure they'll hear me coming by that alone. I want so badly to call for her but force myself to stop and listen. A few seconds go by before I hear something. It's faint but it sounds like a male voice coming from upstairs.


Chapter 51