From the novel
"Evening came like forgiveness, slow, amber, and patient."
Chapter Eleven · The Evening After
A Novel · The Atmosphere
Some places heal you by watching you live.
Still, by Design.
"Healing isn't found in grand gestures, but in the stillness between them."
At a fifteen-room inn at the foot of a Colorado mountain, a man who mistook motion for purpose keeps time with a building that has outlived everyone who built it. Mornings begin the same way, the kettle, two cups set out without thinking, the gold light crossing the floor one plank at a time.
When the inn's keeper asks him to stay, not as help, but as something closer to family, he must decide whether he is ready to belong to a place, and to the people who keep arriving at its door.
Still, by Design. is the world before the reckoning, the first room in a larger house. A novel about recovery, belonging, and the slow architecture of a life rebuilt.
A house that seems to breathe alongside him.
"Evening came like forgiveness, slow, amber, and patient."
Chapter Eleven · The Evening After
Twenty-one seconds, shot at the lake below the inn.
The novel unabridged, in the author's own voice — the kettle, the front desk, the gold light crossing the floor one plank at a time. The first chapter is free to listen to, and there is nothing to sign.
7 hrs 8 mins · Unabridged · Galena House Publishing
Signed copies of Still, by Design. are available through Galena House, each hand-signed by Avery, shipped from Frisco, Colorado. Or find it on Amazon in hardcover, paperback, ebook and audiobook.
The way something is built is the way it is felt.
Enter the Amber Thread →