Sam Palmer started her love of writing when she won a writing contest in the 4th grade with her essay “How The Lion Got His Name”. Since then her writing has evolved over time into darker themes, exploring the grittiest parts of life and human nature. Her passion is creating, whether that's writing short stories, drawing or painting. She went to high school in Las Vegas, Nevada; but now lives in Southern California with her fiance and their two corgis. She spends her free time cooking, traveling, writing, and doing art. Learn more on her blog site.
I loved the night. It meant the house was mine and mine alone. To do what I pleased; running, jumping, knocking things over. This house became my personal playground without the risk of being told
READ PART 1 HERE I quickly retreated from the lifeless lump in the crib, and hopped over the rail and back to the floor. I darted out of the room and into the dark hallway. I had to let the Bigs
The grass was thick, deep green, and soft to the touch. The trees were tall, their branches swaying in the breeze. Light pushed it’s way through the thick foliage and danced over top of the pond