Spirit Stallion 2 Novels & Stories

The wind moved through Wren Hollow like a whisper from the grave—dry, persistent, and full of secrets. It stirred the dust along the path to the cemetery, lifted the edges of black skirts, and rustled the cottonwoods that lined the ridge like sentinels. Gabrielle Moreau sat astride her horse, Raven, watching the mourners gather below. Her posture was straight, her face unreadable. But her eyes—dark, sharp, and unyielding—missed nothing.