EBOOK
About
At sixteen, Jenny Thompson finds a girl's body in the woods behind her family's raspberry thicket. By morning, the town has already begun to forget. Jenny has not.
In the mountains of Tennessee, where the land holds memory and silence is passed down like inheritance, some things are only whispered on porches or spoken behind closed doors. What is buried is not always gone.
Jenny grows up learning how to live with what lingers.
The memory of the girl does not fade. It settles into the edges of her life, quiet but constant, shaping the way she sees the world and herself. Years pass, but something in the past remains unsettled, as if it is waiting.
Waiting to be named.
Waiting to be uncovered.
And some truths do not stay buried.
Set in the mountains of Tennessee, The Secrets Raspberries Keep is a Southern Gothic coming-of-age novel steeped in Appalachian life, where faith and fear often walk side by side. It is a story of buried truth, inherited silence, and the quiet endurance expected of women, unfolding slowly, settling deep, and refusing to let go.
Because some things do not rise all at once. They surface slowly until they cannot be held beneath the soil any longer.
In the mountains of Tennessee, where the land holds memory and silence is passed down like inheritance, some things are only whispered on porches or spoken behind closed doors. What is buried is not always gone.
Jenny grows up learning how to live with what lingers.
The memory of the girl does not fade. It settles into the edges of her life, quiet but constant, shaping the way she sees the world and herself. Years pass, but something in the past remains unsettled, as if it is waiting.
Waiting to be named.
Waiting to be uncovered.
And some truths do not stay buried.
Set in the mountains of Tennessee, The Secrets Raspberries Keep is a Southern Gothic coming-of-age novel steeped in Appalachian life, where faith and fear often walk side by side. It is a story of buried truth, inherited silence, and the quiet endurance expected of women, unfolding slowly, settling deep, and refusing to let go.
Because some things do not rise all at once. They surface slowly until they cannot be held beneath the soil any longer.