The Courting of Bristol Keats (The Courting of Bristol Keats, #1)

by Mary E. Pearson

She didn’t even realize she leaned into it, like a cat arching its back against a doorway. A doorway. Yes. That is what she leaned into. But she didn’t know it yet.

It was impossible to move forward when part of you was trapped in the past.

Her father was lost without her mother. She had been the sun rising in his mornings and the moon whispering him to sleep at night.

Bowskeep was a town in search of an identity. Maybe that was what Bristol liked most about it.

Life wasn’t always about change but sometimes about sameness. And sometimes sameness made you look beneath the surface, look at the bones that held it all together—and the flaws that could be its undoing. Change was a distraction. Sameness demanded reflection.