Imogene Duckworthy did not like pigs. She was fairly fond of cattle, having grown up surrounded by them. She hadn’t been around pigs much. In fact, this was the first time she’d ever driven toward...

Immy knocked on his open door. “Mr. Mallett?”The look on his narrow face was pained. “What’s with the Mr. Mallett? When you don’t call me Mike, it’s usually trouble.

There was that sound again–snap, then a footfall. She tried to whirl around as a dark form–Dear God–sprang with a splash from the darkness–grabbed her from behind, shoved her under the water.

There has always been the wind. Since our planet began to turn, there has been the wind. This ball of dirt and fire and water started to spin. The air stirred. And Earth’s time began....

That’s it, Uncle Huey!” Imogene Duckworthy whipped off her apron and flung it onto the slick, stainless steel counter. “I quit!” If only her voice didn’t sound so young.