Growing up in Colorado, I always found the sunsets magical. So it only stands to reason that the main character of my first novel set in Colorado would feel the same way–as you can tell from the excerpt below.

The Colorado Rockies in the summer were, to Bill Barton, the closest you could get to heaven on this earth. Rain storms, while frequent and sometimes intense, were short and refreshing, the sun was warm, and the breeze coming off the snow-capped peaks was cool enough to make a body comfortable when performing even the most arduous task.

The forests (what was left of them) were a tapestry of dark evergreens and lightly colored aspen. Bill particularly liked the aspen. Their leaves didn’t block out as much light as the heavy boughs of the spruce and pine, and when the wind shook their leaves, the light flickered as if you were standing inside a crystal vase. Even the areas stripped of their trees to feed the needs of the growing mining camps and towns were quickly covered with green grass and colorful wildflowers.

And oh the sunsets! They were explosions of multicolored beams and fiery-red clouds that Bill imagined were much like what the ancients saw when they talked to God.

3D V2


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