Talullah's Choice

By M.J. Ferguson

Talullah is at a crossroads in her life. If she follows her heart, she could lose her family. If she chooses her family, the love of her life could be lost to her forever. Will some old letters Talullah finds help her make the right choice?

• Language: English
• Publisher: M.J. Ferguson
• Release date: Sep 30, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310082856

M.J. Ferguson

West Virginia native Miachelle J. Ferguson writes as M.J. Ferguson. M.J. developed a love of reading in the first grade and her voracious appetite for great stories and amazing characters has grown. M.J. discovered her love for writing in the sixth grade and honed her short story and poetry skills through college. M.J. writes about complicated people and relationships, intriguing stories and psychological thrillers. She still lives in West Virginia surrounded by beautiful mountains and rivers, family and friends. M.J. is a member of a local writing group The Wicked Wordsmiths of the West. You can contact M.J. on Facebook under Miachelle Ferguson or her author page M.J Ferguson Author, Twitter @MJFerguson13 or email her at [e-mail].

Book preview

Talullah’s Choice

Talullah started back to the public library her heart heavy, her feet dragging. Taking a deep breath, she choked back a sob. She knew she was going to be late for work if she didn’t hurry, but she couldn’t work up any enthusiasm for what faced her when she got there. She should have just gone in earlier, but after Mykel’s refusal to even listen to her, she had to get away and clear her head before she saw her again. Talullah raised her hand to wipe away an errant tear. She glanced at her watch and winced when she saw the time. She was late. Talullah took a deep breath and prepared herself for the griping she was going to get from that old biddy, Mrs. Burns. Talullah trudged up the steps and through the revolving door. Her only hope was to slip past when Mrs. Burns wasn’t looking.

She almost made it when she heard Jonquinette call out, Hey, Talullah.

Hey, Joni, she answered weakly, raising a limp hand in greeting.

Talullah’s shoulders hunched when she heard a strident, Miss Fairchild, you are late. Each word enunciated in that precise, superior manner Mrs. Burns adopted when she was annoyed with you. It could be as grating as nails across a blackboard. Unfortunately, it was a tone Talullah heard all too often.

Great. The last thing she needed was a run in with Mrs. Burns. Granted she was late, if only by a few minutes, but there were extenuating circumstances. Not that it would matter to the old biddy. She