Morna Jo Ann Stahr became the town pariah at age ten. Beyond her control, she managed to pull off a religious miracle and try as she may, absolution never came. Sure, some things can be forgotten or outlived, but not this, especially if you’re a girl.
Just ask Mary of Magdalene.
Morna had been busy doing what seventeen-year-old lepers do best. She gathered what was left of the best pieces of herself and got the hell out of dodge with not a soul the wiser. No soul but Silla’s, who by all accounts would forever be included among the very best parts of her.
Now, one accomplice, and many miles later, Morna was slinging drinks at a local blues bar for tips.
New me, who dis, right? WRONG.
Beneath Morna’s newfound feet was a rag-tag horde of mythical beasties and one giant Judas furball of epic proportions. While they enjoyed it, they were not there for the music.
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