The Law of Immediate Forgiveness is updated through November 16’s mad/bad writing. Here’s an excerpt, a can’t resist cliffhanger: Grandpa Marq and Amy Moon are trying to get to South Dakota through a raging snowstorm, in the old Dodge truck, and Licky the dog is in peril…
“Amy MOON!” Marq Pilgrim shouted as he fought to control the steering wheel on his old Dodge. The truck was still spiraling, and his granddaughter seemed poised to be flung into the snowy night. Her seatbelt was holding her for now, but he wasn’t sure if it would for long. “Hang on, Amy Moon!” he shouted. He knew the best thing he could do is keep both hands on the wheel, but his instincts were screaming at him to reach over and grab the girl. “Hang on!”
“Grandpa!” she shouted again, and then her seatbelt came undone with a click somehow loud enough for Marq Pilgrim to hear it above the pounding of his own heart.
“Amy!” Marq took his right hand off the wheel and stretched his arm toward her, and the truck tried even harder to spin off the road. “Hang on!”
Then, in what seemed like a blink, the girl was back on the front seat, panting. The passenger door was still open, but she was safe inside. Marq put in one last effort and brought the truck to a stop, pointing the direction they’d come from.
“Are you okay, Amy Moon?”
The girl was crying. “My coat…” she pointed at her left sleeve, ripped with the lining coming out.
“That’s just your coat, sweetheart, is your arm okay?”
Then she really started to sob.
“What is it? Amy Moon, is your arm hurt?”
“It’s… where… where is…” she struggled to get words out between sobs. “Where is she?”
“Who?” Then it hit Marq. The dog. Licky. She wasn’t on the front seat between them, she wasn’t in the cab of the truck.
“LICKY!” the two of them both cried out at once, and Marq Pilgrim opened his door. “Stay in the truck, Amy Moon!” he said, and stepped out into the snowstorm to find a black dog on a black night.