Miss Harriet, The Story Continues!

"Fingerling, Fingerling...Edward Fingerling" Miss Harriet repeated the name under shallow breath as she high-tailed it away from the tall stranger she'd just come face-to-chest with on the wooded path outside Pierre. She stopped at the foot of the old church road, leaned against a tree and tried to catch her breath.

What oh what had compelled her to flee from Edward Fingerling in this way? A seemingly mild mannered farmer who'd done nothing but politely introduce himself to Harriet when they met that day, and on the very spot which marked the beginning of Fingerling's potato farm. Harriet had wandered too far off the beaten path whilst exploring the tiny country village of Pierre, as of that day, Harriet's new home.

She couldn't get back quickly enough to her newly rented store-front and 2ND floor flat. On final arrival, inner thighs chafed and chapped, Miss Harriet flopped herself down, exhausted and hungry atop the steamer trunk sitting in the middle of the empty room. Increasingly aware of the pain in her right hand, she realized she still had a vice-grip on the key to the place. The key to her future, the key to it all. *To read more of the story of Miss Harriet, scroll up and enter her name in the search button.


  1. I love Harriet! I want more! Tell me more!

  2. I'm so happy to know that you love Harriet. I think maybe you and I are the only ones. Oh well, that's quite enough. I try to make the entrees short for fear of boaring people, so far you're the only to comment on her. Oh wait, that's not true, one other lady did. Love, Keri


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