Lise McClendon

“Tristan the child had been gone for a long time. He had gone where children go, slipped away into manhood as if he’d never fit into her arms, never cried on her shoulder, never run to her with a skinned knee. He was his own person now, not a child but independent, free to make his own choices — or would be very soon. Even though her heart hurt it was everything she wanted for him.”

Lise McClendon, Blackbird Fly
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Blackbird Fly Blackbird Fly by Lise McClendon
1,428 ratings, average rating, 175 reviews

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