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📖First Chapter: Is Truth Stranger Than Fiction by JB Miller #firstchapter

Title: Is Truth Stranger Than Fiction? You Decide…

Author: JB Miller

Publisher: JB Miller

Publication Date: April 3, 2024

Pages: 145

Genre: Mystery

In Is Truth Stranger than Fiction . . . You Decide, J.B. Miller takes readers on a captivating journey through the world of storytelling. The three stories in volume one explore the fascinating intersection of fact and fiction.

With her trademark wit, Miller poses thought-provoking questions about the nature of reality, the power of imagination, and the enduring appeal of a well-told tale. 

Each story is a mystery for the reader to decide. Is it truth or is it fiction?

Hint: There is truth in every story.

Challenge: If you can figure out how the stories connect you can be acknowledged in volume two for being spot on. 

Email miller.jody@icloud.com to enter your answers and your name. By doing so, and if you are correct, you agree to have your name mentioned in volume 2.

Whether you’re a fan of literature, film, or simply mysteries of human experience, this book is sure to enlighten and entertain. A must-read for anyone who has ever wondered where the boundaries of truth and fiction truly lie.

Buy Links:

Amazon:  https://tinyurl.com/yfj5yk5j

Book’s Website: http://www.truth-or-fiction.com 

 First Chapter:

Golf Club Revelation

In a quaint town in New Jersey, where traditions and golf clubs are as revered as family heirlooms, our family’s narrative took an unexpected turn. 

The Golf Club, with its manicured greens and old-world charm, was more than just a leisure spot; it was the setting where our lives intertwined with secrets and revelations.

My father, a charming man with a penchant for golf and warm laughter, was a well-known figure at the club. He was the kind who could strike a conversation with anyone, his charisma as effortless as his swing on the course. 

But beneath this affable exterior lay a web of secrets that would soon unravel our family’s seemingly idyllic life.

It was the summer of ’75 when whispers began to circulate among club members. 

My father, often seen in the company of the club’s elite, had grown particularly close to one family. 

They were the epitome of society; their legacy etched into every corner of the town. 

The daughter of this family, a woman of elegance and grace, was often seen walking the course with my father, their laughter echoing across the fairways.

As children, we were blissfully unaware of the undercurrents of adult relationships. Our days were spent in innocent play, the complexities of love and betrayal far beyond our comprehension. But that summer, the veil of innocence lifted.

One fateful night, the truth came crashing down like a poorly hit golf ball. 

My father, in a moment of unexpected candor, gathered all of us in my parent’s bedroom and confessed to my mother. He was leaving her for another woman. 

The room spun as the words sunk in, each syllable a dagger in the heart of our family. It wasn’t just any woman; it was the golf family’s daughter, the same woman he had known since our days in Michigan and Chicago; the woman who visited her parents in our small Jersey town.

The revelation sent shockwaves throughout our household. 

My mother, a woman of strength and resilience, crumbled under the weight of betrayal. 

With tears that reflected a mixture of anger and heartbreak, she gathered us into our old, yellow wood-paneled station wagon. The car, a symbol of our family’s humble life, contrasted sharply with the opulence of the golf family’s residence where we headed.

Arriving at their doorstep, a mixture of emotions coursed through me. Anger, confusion, and an overwhelming sense of injustice. 

I was only 12, but I had all the nerve of a full-fledged adult as I confronted the woman who had turned our lives upside down. 

“You’re a horrible person,” I blurted out, my voice a mix of rage and sorrow. 

She looked at me, her eyes a calm sea, and replied with a dismissive, “I don’t really care.” 

Her words, cold and detached, cut through the warm night air, leaving a chill that lingered long after.

In the wake of confrontation, the world seemed to slow, the sound of our departure from their doorstep echoing hollowly, like the final putt in a lost game. 

That night, the reality of our fractured family settled around me like a heavy fog, the familiar shape of a family obscured by sudden change.

Meanwhile, my eldest brother, driven by a sense of familial honor, went to the town train station to confront my father. 

But the sight of our father’s eyes, filled with sad resolve, stopped him in his tracks. 

There was something in that look that conveyed a deeper, more complex emotion than just guilt or regret. It was as if my father was torn between two worlds, resolute in his decision, yet aware of the deep pain it caused.

ΔΔΔΔ

In the days that followed, our family oscillated between reconciliation and separation. 

My parents would get back together, only to part ways again. It was a dance of love and hurt, a pattern that continued for two years.

My father asked to move back in after that seesaw blur. 

I was elated. 

My mother was cautious, but she still loved him completely, so she agreed.

He said the affair was over.

Over the next two years our home became a patchwork of strained smiles and silences filled with unasked questions. 

It was during this time of quiet tumult that the idea of moving to San Diego first surfaced. 

My father spoke of it not with excitement, but a reserved hope, as if the very mention of the city was a delicate spell he was afraid to break.

San Diego was presented to us as a chance for a fresh start, a new chapter waiting to be written far from the rolling fairways that had borne witness to our family’s most tender and painful moments. 

The reason for this radical move was shrouded in mystery, the details obscured behind my father’s weary eyes and my mother’s forced optimism.

It was the summer after my sophomore year of high school, and as the day of our departure drew near, the house that had once echoed with laughter now seemed to whisper with the ghosts of what had been. 

Packing up our lives, I couldn’t help but feel we were also trying to box up the past, seal it away like old photographs in the attic of our memories.

What lay ahead was uncertain, and as the sun set on the Jersey town that had been our world, its last light held a flicker of something unnamed, a question that hung in the air, unanswered.

Little did I know that years later, a confession from my father would reopen old wounds and reveal a truth that would change everything…

About the Author:

JB Miller is a best-selling author of many books of fiction and non-fiction. Miller has a background in television, is a TEDx speaker, top podcast host and writer of numerous articles and blogs. She resides in Oregon and California.

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Praise for J. B. Miller’s work

“Miller is a master storyteller, weaving together complex characters and compelling plot lines with ease.” – NY Book Reviewer

“Miller’s writing is intelligent, engaging, and always thought-provoking.”      – Online Book Review

J.B. Miller is an accomplished author, TEDx speaker, thought leader, podcast host, and founder of Reel Media Agency. Contact her at: miller.jody@icloud.com

Visit JB Miller on the web:

Website: www.truth-or-fiction.com and www.jodybmiller.com

Twitterhttp://www.twitter.com/JBMillerAuthor 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JodyBMillerAuthor


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