“I love the beach after a storm. When I was thirteen, a banker's bag washed up on this same beach with exactly $319 inside--- I know because I counted out every bill--- along with a waterlogged handgun. Bee called the police, who traced the remnants to a bank robbery gone wrong seventeen years prior. Seventeen years. The Puget Sound is like a time machine, hiding things and then spewing them back onto its shores at the time and place of its choosing.” MoneyStolenPuget SoundAfter The Storm Book:The Violets of March Source: The Violets of March
“From north to south, the island is just ten miles long, but it feels like a continent in its own right. There are bays and inlets, coves and mudflats, a winery, a berry farm, a llama farm, sixteen restaurants, a café that makes homemade cinnamon rolls and the best coffee I've ever tasted, and a market whose wares include locally produced raspberry wine and organic Swiss chard picked just hours before making its appearance in the produce section.” IslandLocalEstablishmentsPuget SoundWares Book:The Violets of March Source: The Violets of March
“Tomorrow," she said, "is the first of March, the month the sound is at its best, dear. It's absolutely alive." I knew what she meant when she said it. The churning gray water. The kelp and the seaweed and the barnacles. I could almost the salty air. Bee believed that the Puget Sound was the great healer.” MarchPuget SoundFirst Of The Month Book:The Violets of March Source: The Violets of March
