Review: The Biscuit Witch by Deborah Smith

Deborah Smith has a rare talent as a story teller: one that can bring any character to life and make the reader feel they know that character personally. She is able to connect with all types of personalities and make the character real.

She's done it again in The Biscuit Witch. Her characters are real, flawed, funny, and very human. Ms. Smith draws the reader in without the reader even realizing how caught up she is until it's time to put the book down and she doesn't want to. Plus, I suspect after read this book, there will be many people wanting to be a biscuit witch...I know I do!


Set in the beautiful mountains of North Carolina, this books introduces us to Tal and Eve, mother and daughter, heroes in their own right, and the events in our lives that can set in motion a series of moments that spin out of control until we learn from deep within ourselves how to put our lives back on the track they should have been on all along.

Food, love, family, guns, good and evil, fun animals, healing spirits, and biscuits. Sit down at the table for a bit to walk through the pages of the Biscuit Witch. You'll find yourself charmed, bewitched, and anxiously awaiting the next book in the series.

Sultry Summer Storm

Come sit beside me on the deck

The wood is fragrant and hot, the air
Silent and holding its breath.
Birds are hushed in the spindly trees
and even the river is sullenly asleep.

Violet orbs of sweetness await their delicious fate,
A few sacrificed to taste,
you bite our first victim and feed me half,
popping cold juice,
explosions of Chilean sun fill my mouth,
sweeter for being crushed by your lips,
chased by amber waves of refreshment
gulped from slick sea glass,
ice cubes cracking like ocean breakers.

Listening to the clouds’ shadows dance across the sky,
Slithering on the skyline are thunderheads,
proffering relief in their choleric castles.
Slanting rays of rain are birthed,
sucked to the ground by invisible thirsty lips.
Desperate dust devils scour the lawn for damp leaves and rocks,
and, as we sit, silver dollar drops fall.

We do not run for cover but stay,
bare legs dangling as the rain comes fast
enjoying the stabs of cool on our
sun parched skin. You laugh at my hair
plastered to my shoulders and wipe away
raindrops masquerading as tears.

Two-Stepping Into My Heart

I couldn't sleep last night. I haven't sleep much in the past few months. I could blame the usual list of suspects; one of our six children usually wakes me or sometimes it’s the non-stop trains barreling through our sleepy town.

Several months ago Colt and Graysen’s story, Heartbreak Ranch unfolded before me on my laptop. The unlikely pair continues to two-step through my mind during my restless hours when sleep will not come for me. As I move toward publication of their story, they’ve danced into my heart and I follow their dance with each other, breathless for the next song.  

Stay tuned for release dates…