From USA Today Bestselling Author, P.D. Workman!
“I love my Da.”
Raised to a life of crime, Sandy is a teenage prostitute, junkie, and con artist. She always joked that her Da taught her a trade, that it hadn’t hurt her to be brought up like she was.
But things keep getting more complicated, more dangerous, and Sandy doesn’t want to admit even to herself that she longs for an honest, normal life.
Even when she tries to change, things don’t go smoothly. Sandy’s past keeps interfering with her new relationships. In the end, if she and her family don’t pull together, Sandy will not be able to escape yet another ghost of her past. Do they have what it takes for her to change her life completely?
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ If you love stories with strong female protagonists who fail forward to become a better version of themselves, this story will capture your heart. Sandy was an unforgettable character. I lost hours in this book!
By the author of Tattooed Teardrops, winner of the Top Fiction Award, In the Margins Committee, 2016, Sandy’s struggle for a better life will touch your heart and keep you rooting for her right to the end.
If you enjoy gritty contemporary young adult books like those by John Green and Stephen Chbosky, give P.D. Workman’s Breaking the Pattern series a try.
Start your journey today!
Genre: YOUNG ADULT FICTION / Social Themes / Self-Esteem & Self-Reliance4.5 star average
Alyssa was at her usual corner, easing her feet out of a pair of shiny red stilettos and rubbing them tenderly.
“New shoes?” Sandy questioned. “They’re cute.”
Alyssa laughed. “Yeah. Cute is right. I thought you weren’t coming by today.”
“I had some time. How’s it been today?”
“Bit slow. Steady, no excitement.”
Sandy nodded. “Still some daylight left.”
They both preferred daytime work. While it didn’t bring in quite as much as nighttime jobs, it was safer. They hoped.
A rusty Chevy pickup truck pulled up alongside them.
“Take you for a ride?” the balding forty-something suggested to Sandy.
Sandy carefully checked up and down the street and walked up to the truck, putting her head in the open window to check out the driver and the interior of the vehicle. He wasn’t a regular; she didn’t recognize him. The interior of the truck was tidy, but not too clean. Sandy thought it smelled faintly of marijuana. Everything looked kosher.
“What’s your fancy?” she questioned.
He named a couple of possibilities, carefully couched in euphemisms in case there was a sting. Sandy nodded.
“You got the means?”
He pulled out a money clip with ample funds and displayed it. Sandy lifted the handle on the door.
“Your friend want to join us?” the john questioned, nodding to Alyssa. Sandy turned around.
“You up for a double feature?”
“Sure, babe,” Alyssa agreed.
They both climbed into the truck; Sandy first, then Alyssa. The john pulled the truck away from the curb, and they discretely finalized terms.
