Knowledge is currency here….

One kiss after you come back and see she’s all right.

You want a wild ride, J.J.? I’ll give it to you, hard and slow until you scream my name.

Alford, Massachusetts: Mandy stood there with her old Nikon film camera, snapping photo after photo of the rural landscape. It was difficult to describe the wonderful feeling of there not being a single cell phone...

A scattering of pinpoint lights shows up in the blackness ahead. A town or village straddling the highway. The indicator on the speedometer begins to lose ground. The man glances in his mirror at the...

He felt a little lost, after that experience. Lost as the girls on their knees. It was a never-ending story of young girls losing themselves, such that they were no longer humans with any souls...

We have the best rats in town!

Maycomb was a tired old town, even in 1932 when I first knew it. Somehow, it was hotter then. Men’s stiff collars wilted by nine in the morning. Ladies bathed before noon after their three...

In the great cities we see so little of the world, we drift into our minority. In the little towns and villages there are no minorities; people are not numerous enough. You must see the...

The real core of this book is about the open secrets that can fester in a community until an outsider raises questions.

If I was going to spend the next day in jail for obstruction of justice, I’d better get a good nights sleep.

The talks were like blood transfusions, moments of realness and hope that were pinpricks of light in the dark fabric of small-town life.

The young of the town, preoccupied with their own germinating angst, which each possessed in varying degree (though few were ever fully aware of its existence), felt no particular connection to the land, its people,...

No matter what you do, someone always knew you would.

Who you looking forWhat is his nameyou can prob’ly find himat the football gameit’s a small townyou know what I meanit’s a small town, sonand we all support the team

Fruit of the Poisonous Tree, The True Story of Murder in a Small Town, begins on a steamy August night with two teenagers, brother and sister, on an evil mission deep in a rural Michigan...

In this town to know three languages is an unnecessary luxury. It’s not even a luxury, but a sort of unnecessary addition, like a sixth finger. We have a great deal of superfluous knowledge.

Living in a small town [in India] was like living in a glass house!

Comely was the town by the curving river that they dismantled in a year’s time. Beautiful was Colleton in her last spring as she flung azaleas like a girl throwing rice at a desperate wedding....

A decade ago when Isabel’s husband Max had died, they’d moved in together and merged their possessions. Neither sister brought any fussy teapots, canaries, sachets, or doilies,but lots of other stuff had to either stay...

This town of churches and dreams; this town I thought I would lose myself in, with its backward ways and winding roads leading to nowhere; but, I found myself instead. -Magic in the Backyard (excerpt...

It’s one thing to develop a nostalgia for home while you’re boozing with Yankee writers in Martha’s Vineyard or being chased by the bulls in Pamplona. It’s something else to go home and visit with...

Take a walk on the wild side with me.

I’ll save a spot for you on the hood of my truck.

[He] had to submit to the fate of every newcomer in a small town, where many tongues talk but few heads think.

Old enough to know better, but still young enough to do it again.

I must say, cowboy, I’m impressed. I was worried you could only handle eight seconds at a time.

For the record, you would’ve been my first one night stand.

Before she could ponder what on earth he meant or come up with a proper response, he took their charade a step further.He kissed her.

You’re gonna have to hold on tight, because this rodeo is just getting started.

Where everyone knows your name, and a safe place to raise a family.