THE TIN CUP CLAN’s final Preface

After the UMP-TEENTH revision, I think we have settled on the preface for The Leech Cemetery Witch. What do you think? Does it make you want to read the book? Does it sound mysterious enough? Does it make my butt look big? I need some feedback; I’m dying here.

PREFACE

Our adventure began many winters ago when the “grey” moved into our tiny town. None of us knew where it came from or when it arrived; it was just “there,” violating everything with its “nothing.”

We lived in a typical coal-mining town nestled deep in the Tennessee mountains, and as with most towns in coal country, time was slowly but surely passing us by. We didn’t know why; perhaps the “grey” made us invisible, no one knew for sure.

The stores and buildings seemed well aware of their fate. Death was slowly reclaiming them, clawing at the bricks and mortar as he dragged them back into the ground. On quiet days you could almost hear a mournful sigh float through the hollows and hills.

In one way or another, we all felt it, a “fading” of sorts. Fading seems to be a good word, and the grey little town was well and truly “fading” into history and memory.

That’s where we began our epic journey, just a small group of boys fighting that “grey.” Our little band of brothers included my three meddlesome friends and me. Meddlesome, yes, but tried and true every last one, and unbelievably, the school bully who, with time, came to realize we had a lot more in common than any of us ever thought possible. Together we would come to be known as “The Tin Cup Clan.”

Our tale begins with exchanging some homemade liquor, a foolish “double-dog-dare,” and an old forgotten cemetery. (complete with a not so forgotten witch) Stir in a hollow gravestone guarded by a ghost dog, add the legend of a long-lost baby, finish with a pinch of murder, and you got yourself one heck of a mystery.

Oh, let’s not forget a thin scruffy old janitor, mysterious to his marrow bones; he knows a great deal more than he’s telling. The mystery swirls around his person like smoke from a pipe. Ol’ Bill will have a profound influence on our story, and, as I look back through the eyes of an old man, I realize he changed the course of our entire lives.

So, pull that chair closer to the fire, sip your hot cocoa, and join us as we follow “The Tin Cup Clan” and the mystery of “The Leech Cemetery Witch.”

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