In the hour before dawn, we slip out of the house, and the midsummer night is dark and cool. As I follow the swish, swish of my grandmother's skirts, I can smell the damp earth beneath my feet and feel the dewy air on my face. Moving through the darkness toward the woods where blackberries grow, I'm certain my Grandma Rachel and I are the only ones awake in the whole world.

"The story of young Dovey Johnson Roundtree and her grandmother's enduring love"--Cover.