The Beacon
written by: Dawn DeBraal
Dooley Bradford sat in his beat-up Ford 150 pick up at the stop and go lights of two intersecting highways, he w...
Lay-Wade
written by: Dawn DeBraal
Margene was a people watcher. Sitting in the airport waiting room in Washington D.C., she observed several women d...
Flesh Of My Flesh
written by: Dawn DeBraal
Francine held the razor blade between two fingers. Her hands shaking in anticipation. By drawing blood, t...
The Conflict
written by: Dawn DeBraal
Sheriff Thomas Ditter turned a blind eye when he drove by the VFW Local #145 Hall. There was Hardee Footits’ p...
Dead Ringer
written by: Dawn DeBraal
Mila looked over many items on the shelf when she came across the bell collection. Hundreds of unique little be...
Christmas Watch
written by: Dawn DeBraal
My breath caught as my daughter told me that she and her new husband were moving to Germany for three to fi...
Dawn DeBraal lives in rural Wisconsin with her husband Red, two rat terriers and a cat. Recently retired she has discovered her love of telling a good story, can be written.
