KrystalMoonshine
"You didn't sweet-talk nothin', Krys. You just dug your heels into the dirt and refused to let me die. And by the time I figured out what the hell you were doing... wasn't nowhere else I wanted to be
Most people looked at Deputy Shane Walsh and saw a rabid dog waiting to be put down.
Krystal looked at him, called him a masochistic idiot, and stomped on his boot until he learned how to breathe.
She wasn't a soldier.
She was just a five-foot-tall former florist with canon knowledge, an appetite for violence when her people were cornered, and an absolute refusal to let him bleed out.
But when an ambush over a river gorge wipes her memory clean, she vanishes into the wilderness-leaving Shane with an empty chamber, an emerald on a cord, and six years of ghosts.
Now, she's in Jackson, Wyoming, picking up the pieces after Joel Miller's death.
And the big, graying man standing in the doorway of her cabin isn't an enemy.
He's her past. And he's not leaving without her.
Contains: Slow-burn domestic tension, canon divergence, heavy language, lethal FMC, and a man who would burn down fifty states to find his way home.