Moonshine Holler Misadventures

Where the mountains whisper, the fog listens, and trouble walks on two legs.

Welcome to the Holler

Deep in the Appalachian mountains, the ridges lean close and the trees whisper news faster than any newspaper. Fog rolls through like it’s checkin’ on folks, dogs bark at things that ain't quite visible, and Paw says, “Don’t keer none,” which usually means someone’s about to do something ill-advised.

This is Moonshine Holler — where tall tales grow as wild as blackberry vines and misadventures follow family tradition.

Meet the Holler Folk

Leroy

Maker of inventions that probably shouldn’t exist.

Sal

The practical one—nails her windows shut during storms.

Paw

Philosopher of “Don’t keer none,” porch-sittin’ legend.

Bubba

Brave, loud, and certain gravity holds a grudge.

Tully

Inventor of Tully Shine—part liquor, part paint remover.

Shorty

Half a tail, twice the attitude.

Vol. 2 Sneak Peek — The Night the Moon Fell in the Creek

Evenin’ settled over the holler like Ma settles into her quiltin’ chair—quiet, steady, and full of unsupervised intentions. Fog hugged the creek. Frogs preached their nightly sermon. And that’s when the silver glow came driftin’ upstream.

“Leroy!” Bubba hollered, trippin’ over a rake, then a chicken, then the same rake again. “The moon fell in the creek!”

Sal narrowed her eyes. “That ain’t the moon. That’s trouble.”

Paw just nodded toward the sky. “Moon’s right there.” Sure enough, the real moon peeked over the ridge lookin’ offended.

But that glow — that soft silver pulse slippin’ through the water — weren’t done with us. Not by a long shot.

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Contact the Author

If you’d like to reach out, you can email me directly at lamoinerich@gmail.com.