“You brought me good luck,” Pierce said over breakfast at Clampett Tract. “I"m getting an advance on my new book.”
“So soon?” She passed a bite of dry toast to the dogs. She had kept them overnight again. “I thought publishers were like a government bureaucracy, only worse.”
Choco and Latte were big now, though they wouldn"t be a year old until the beginning of December. The color of their coats matured and glowed, and they were beautiful animals. They paced a lot and were always hungry. They hadn"t changed their demeanor toward her or anyone else that Sara could tell. Still, they were a handful.
“I have a track record with my publisher.” Pierce chewed quickly and swallowed. “I can pay you back finally.”
“I didn"t expect to be paid.”
“It"s me, Sara. I need to.”
“I can"t let you. I ju
