About the Book
About the Author
Giveaway
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Character Spotlight: Jackson “Jax” Miller
Jax is the third of the main characters of October. He is Emily's cousin, neighbor, and closest friend. Essentially he's like a brother to her, though he claims he's glad he's not really her brother because she talks too much. She doubts that he really means this.
So who is Jax, exactly?
His name is Jackson, but everyone has always called him Jax. He is currently seventeen and six feet, three inches. He's quiet and good-natured, protective and soft-hearted. He has a dry sense of humor and doesn't like to let his hair grow more than about an eighth of an inch.
He loves reading and gets good grades. He especially loves history because he sees it as having so much to say to anyone who cares to listen. He helps run his parents' small farm, but doesn't want to be a farmer himself. He's not yet sure what he wants to do.
He becomes very close with October, and the three share many delightful, everyday adventures together. She draws him out more than anyone ever has—helping him discover new talents and become a nobler version of himself. But as Emily begins to sense hidden depths in October, how will this affect his relationship with them both?
Excerpt
The late afternoon sun shone through the stained glass windows on the west wall, and the only sound was the hum of the air conditioning.
Halfway down the center aisle, she stopped. I watched the dust particles floating in the multi-colored light as she turned to look at each window in turn.
Jesus with the children. Jesus turning water into wine. Jesus at the last supper. Jesus walking on the water.
She turned at last to the one of Him carrying the lost lamb, and there she stopped for a long while. I looked at the glass for a moment, eyes again drawn to the misplaced red piece in His robe, then I turned to look at her face.
It wasn't very expressive. The only spark that I could see was in her eyes, which sparkled in the rainbows. Her eyebrows drew down over her eyes slightly.
“That's my favorite,” I told her.
She took one step forward, stopped, then took two more steps, eyes fixated on the window as though she were mesmerized. “I think perhaps it's mine, too.”
She kept focusing on it, her gaze sweeping every bit of glass. I started to ramble.
“I think it's just the look on His face... and how He has His arms around it, sort of... gently, and strong. I like the way it looks... nurturing. It looks caring, don't you think so?”
She kept looking at it for a moment, then she spoke slowly. “I think... I like it because I know the story it represents. The lost sheep. And how out of a hundred sheep, ninety-nine of them good and perfectly well-behaved, he went after the one who left. The disobedient one. He was willing to leave everything good and right and go after... things that most people would say weren't worth it.”
