Novel starts:
The warmth of the porcelain coffee cup felt good against his bare palms. It acted as a single source of comfort against the penetrating cold of the late autumn morning. Though biting cold, the peacefulness and dead calm of the meadow seemed to be suspended in time for those few moments before the sun splashed color onto the gray canvas of land spread before him.
Carelessly splashing what remained of his coffee to the hard earth below, the young man paced across the length of the cabin's porch. His thoughts turned to the night before. It was a grand party--a gala event marked by the best imported wine, the finest jazz trio in Montana, and beautiful women dressed in the latest fashions. A fine gathering indeed, but Micheal's brow furrowed as his thoughts returned to his missing father...
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