Abruptly the wizened figure that had been in a coma for three weeks sat up and pointed a gnarled finger at her sister. “Annie, the island farm is yours now. It is your legacy to guard.” Annie winced. A deathbed promise. A debt-ridden farm in the middle of nowhere. How could it get worse. And then it did. As the sole surviving relative to the twin great-grandbabbies, Annie is game, but the state says she’s too old, too weird, and the farm still has an outhouse. Annie needs a little help from her friends, a host of very eccentric aging American heroes with plenty of spunk to burn.
Subscribe