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162 pages, Kindle Edition
Published March 10, 2026
“She’s come for us.”
"Nobody's ever at peace, not truly. You know that better than anyone. We tell ourselves we are, but our best days are just pleasant dreams between periods of troubled sleep."
“.. the small, stunted lighthouse atop Friar's Point no longer cast its beam out to sea, having been decommissioned after World War I in favor of outposts to the east and west. It stood dark atop its limestone base, the royal blue stripe across its middle faded to gray, the light a blind eye obscured by faded glass. Once, a man named Cillian Hume had tended that light. It had been his calling, his love, and when that light was quenched, so too was his spirit. He died of a heart attack a few weeks after the decommis-sioning, his body interred in the graveyard on the hill overlooking the village.”
“He had held her while she'd wept in frustration and unhappiness because he had arms and could do so. He'd sat with her and listened to her diatribes and nodded in all the right places because he had a head and could do so. But his brain heard only the howl of unpredictable storms.”
"You were my pleasant dream. And I hope, for a while, I was yours."