Karin Kallmaker has always written about lesbians and love and isn't likely to change. Her thirty-plus novels include Painted Moon, Captain of Industry, and Maybe Next Time. She's also written more than five dozen short stories and novellas. She has won three Lambda Literary Awards and is a Golden Crown Literary Society Trailblazer. When she's not writing books she's thinking about books, enjoying life in the San Francisco Bay Area, or embarking on new adventures by plane, train, or automobile. Learn more at kallmaker.com or search social media or favorite book sites for "Kallmaker"-there's only one.

Abby Craden is a professional actress, voice artist, and Earphones Award-winning narrator.

"I know, girl," she said absently. She thumped Butch s side through the thick white fur. Somehow Butch always knew when provisions were running low. If she didn t get into town and back before the storm, they d be eating canned baked beans for Thanksgiving and several days after that.

Leah looked forward to being snowed in. If Mother Nature kept her from the outside world for a few days, then for those days the isolation wasn t by her choice.

This was her second Thanksgiving without Sharla. She wondered when she d stop counting. "C mon, girl," she said. She pulled on her plaid parka and snow boots. The earlier she started out the more likely she wouldn t need chains to get back.

Butch didn t need any encouragement. She scrambled out the door ahead of Leah and when the truck door was open, she hauled all ninety-five pounds of her Alaskan Husky body into the passenger seat. When Leah slammed the door after her, Butch barked once.

"Okay, okay, I m hurrying."

The drive into Bishop wasn t bad the truck was more than heavy enough to stand a little wind. But when she came out of the market, the snow was coming down in small flurries. She quickly stashed the paper sacks onto the floorboard below Butch. Butch panted and licked her lips.

"If you so much as nibble at that turkey, you won t see a single drumstick." Leah didn t know why she d gotten a turkey except that they were really cheap the penny-wise aspect of her Brethren upbringing stayed with her no matter what her current bank balance was. In the back of her mind she thought perhaps she d set the table with an empty chair for Sharla. Maybe Sharla s spirit would visit. Maybe it would leave her feeling whole instead of walking around like a ghost. As though she d been the one who had drowned.

She made a quick stop at the post office. There were two letters and a parcel she had to collect at the window. One letter was from her mother. Leah wasn t sure she should read it. The other was from Maureen and Valentina, persistent friends who continued to write even when Leah didn t answer.

The return address on the parcel made Leah catch her breath. She scrubbed her parka sleeve over her eyes. Why hadn t she cancelled her standing instructions with the art supply house? Every time one of these boxes arrived, it was like a knife in the chest.

The flurries had thickened. She had to bend into the wind to keep the snow out of her face as she went back to the truck. Why was everything so hard? Leah slammed both fists on the steering wheel. The spark of fury dwindled as fast as it had flamed and she closed her eyes against unaccountable weariness.

Butch whined and gnawed on the sleeve of her parka. Leah shook her loose and tried to calm herself. The snow was coming down in a no-nonsense steady flow ... she didn t have time for the luxury of grief.