I don’t feel a thing. No spinning. No blackness or stillness. Nothing. I’m unconscious as my eyes roll upward into my head, and I topple backward off the chair, hitting the floor. Oblivious as I convulse wildly, flopping like a fish on a dock, floundering toward death. I will learn these details later. https://lisatannert.substack.com/p/the-grace-in-the-void

“Sobriety looks good on you.” It did, I thought—and it felt good, too. And losing you nearly killed me. Alcohol had me firmly back in its clutches. I’d been so sure that Dean was incentive enough to keep me sober that, when I learned he was coming, I left rehab against medical advice. I lasted…

Happy New Year. I hope 2026 finds you happy, healthy, and making plans of epic proportion. There’s that word again, woven through everything this time of year—hope. I still believe in hope, but I’ve learned it carries more weight when tethered to something sturdier than the calendar. Not to a date we agree to celebrate…

“What’s the story with this guy we’re after?” Cowboy pushes the brim of his white  cowboy hat up as he casts me a backward glance from the driver’s seat of my SUV. “He owes you  money or something?” He’s in his late twenties and has the same shoulder-length blond curls and   mustache Alan Jackson did…