Đang chuẩn bị nút TẢI XUỐNG, xin hãy chờ
Tải xuống
“Lord help me—I love those eyes. They’re like a nice warm cup of Chicory Coffee, creamy brown, with just the right amount of sugar.” “Your daddy better not hear you talking like that,” he said with a roguish smirk. Royce pulled a pack of smokes from the shaft of h | Vanishing Horizons By J.P. Voss Copyright J.P. Voss 2011 Smashwords Edition License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you re reading this book and did not purchase it or it was not purchased for your use only then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. Royce Culhane stared through the reinforced wire mesh window past the bars and beyond his vanishing horizons. It was August of 61 his nineteenth birthday and Royce was in transit from the county lock up in Jackson Mississippi to the Federal Penitentiary at Leavenworth Kansas. He d been sentenced to eight years for Interstate Transportation of a Stolen Vehicle and Transporting a Minor Across the State Line for the Purpose of Immoral Acts. His crime his only real crime was that he loved Milford W. McKenna s seventeen-year-old daughter Velma. Things had been good for Royce during the first few months of 1961. Life had been especially fine that first week of May. Royce soaked in the easy Mississippi morning as he headed over to Velma s in his chopped 33 Ford. The sun was still low in the southern sky and the shade from the lush landscape flushed with hundred-foot Magnolia Trees kept things cool to the touch. The Magnolia branches were thick with green glossy leaves and what must have been a million Mockingbirds. The Mocks were really tuning it up that morning and Royce could hear their rapture over the rumble of his Flathead Ford. At the McKenna s Royce came to a screeching stop hopped out and ran for the front door. He started up the porch steps and the front door fell open. Velma sashayed out on the veranda with two tall glasses of icy lemonade. She delivered the refreshments with exaggerated southern elegance a curtsy and a delicate twirl. .
