Janice Daugharty: 80 books

In acclaimed southern author Janice Daugharty’s apocalyptic Biblical thriller, the Rapture comes not with spectral flourishes or rumors of war but with unemployed former real estate agent Shelton Teasdale waking from a nap in his rural Georgia home to find the power off and his wife gone. At first,...

Lost innocence. Betrayal. Smalltown secrets.It all adds up to necessary lies. It always starts with the loss of innocence.Life had plenty to offer beautiful seventeen-year-old Cliffie Flowers in 1953 backwoods Georgia before she got pregnant by a local lothario whose conquests also included her sister....

"Janice Daugharty is a natural-born writer." - Pat ConroyShe held him prisoner. He set her free.A moonshiner's downtrodden wife. A federal agent in search of illegal stills. A love neither expected. A situation about to explode. When her cruel husband, Hamp, kidnaps Mac, an FBI agent working undercover...

Sibyl is either dying--or just dying to cause trouble. Sympathy for a man-hunting siren? Sibyl says she's dying. But this sexy new neighbor in a small Georgia town, circa 1960, may be lying. After all, her main goal seems to be milking her story in order to keep her husband, Robert, under her thumb...

Two teenage girls, out scouting the Alapaha River, in South Georgia, happen up on two escaped death-row prisoners. One girl is killed and the other, Ruth, is taken hostage on a boat ride downriver for an extended nightmare of torture and sacrifice. At the end of the river, Ruth witnesses the most shocking of all sacrifices--THE sacrifice. Janice Daugharty, author of 7 published novels.

Recorded for NPR by Janice Daugharty I was at first shocked by the sheer mass of scurrying humanity at Hartsfield International Airport, in Atlanta, Georgia. All alone under one roof, yet not a foot apart from each other. Nobody spoke to me. Then I wondered what would happen if I actually tried to strike up a conversation with somebody...

"There is a lot of red clay and long nights in every line Janice Daugharty puts on paper." Pat Conroy Duncan finds his lost faith hiking the roads to country churches with his nephew, who he passes off as the world's littlest preacher. Duncan used to be a preacher himself; his father...

"Daugharty does a fine job of demonstrating how ordinary men and women are affected, in unpredictable ways, by race, poverty and geography and by the enduring legacy of important historical moments."People MagazineShe is only seventeen when she marries into a world of privilege, mystery, heartache and...

In time, Willie will drop from his high on alcohol and self-pity. In time, he will adapt to working for the black man who used to work for him. Bear now owns Willie's heavy-construction business, because of a change in govt. regulations. What Willie will never adapt to though is his x-wife's conning him out of his twin girls.

Lonliness and rejection switch Beebee from a cry-baby to a cold-hearted killer. After his parents divorced they gradually changed from fighting about who would get to keep Beebee to fighting about who would have to keep Beebee. Then his mother forgot his thirteenth birthday and something flipped on inside Beebee's head to ignite a deadly anger.

A timid teenage boy finds the life he is meant for on a big cat hunt with two old geezers. After Rick's mother died, and his father remarried, he became aware of himself as a misfit. On the cat hunt with his eccentric step-grandfather, he learns why he's a misfit--he should have been born in a previous generation. Rick is out of place and out of time. The cat hunt is his rebirthing.

This is a tale of how a black man in the deep south of the 1950's and 60's became the biggest landowner in all of the region. Or so they say...

Minor, a worn-out foxhunter, has been ordered by "the daughter-in-law" to have his old foxhound put down. But first he takes Joe Blow out to the woods where they've hunted for so long for one final hunt. It is there that Minor realizes it's not just the old dog in danger of being "put down."

Gone with the wind were the mothers we knew, as they watched the movie. Usually strict, they let my cousins and me roam the shimmery, other-worldly theater. We went alone to the restrooms; we bought all the Cokes and popcorn we wanted. Coins seemed to spawn in our mothers' purses. They would never be the same and neither would I...