A Dog Named Shep
an excerpt

CHAPTER ONE: SNOW NOT YET FALLEN

November 3rd:
I could smell it in the crisp autumn air. It was the almost unrecognizable scent of snow not yet fallen. The houses were decorated with rotting pumpkins, Halloween having only been a week ago. It was only the beginning of November, but winter was in the air.
Snow not yet fallen smells like the combination of burning wood, like a campfire in the summer and rain after it has fallen in the early spring; both aromas whirling together in the thick, cold air. It would snow tonight. I knew it.
But while the heavenly scent of snow not yet fallen flowed through the sky, so did the sickening scent of death. That was the first thing I noticed when I entered the house I shared with my 12-year-old sister, Opal and my mother.