#1 NYT bestselling author Linda Lael Miller


Seasons

There was a distinct, crisp chill in the air when Sadie and I took the elevator down to the first floor and went outside. Fall is definitely coming.

Fall has always been my favorite season, at least here in the Northwest. In Arizona, I could hardly tell the difference between seasons, except, of course, for summer. Yikes. I remember hiking back from the barn one day, when my horse-head pool was still just a big hole in the dirt, the temperature at 114, thinking, “Why did I ever leave Washington state?” Not that Arizona doesn’t have its singular charms, because it does. I’ve never seen the like of the sunsets, for instance, and I have many close and cherished friends there.

I won’t be taking this weekend off to go to the lake, but please don’t feel sorry for me on that account. Things are happening too fast in Stone Creek–I don’t dare let the reins slacken. I expect to have the book finished the middle of next week. There will be a short vacation–picture me lounging at the lakehouse, with somebody else’s book in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. There’ll be some polymer clay work, and I’ll be cutting and glueing for my vision boards, too.

Have a lovely weekend. Somebody in Spokane, Washington, thinks a lot of you.

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