⛪️ 𝙵𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚒𝚗.
In the oppressive summer heat of 1970s Mississippi, Guest, a timid preacher’s daughter, finds her world of scripture and propriety challenged by the presence of Caleb Shaw. He's the local farmer boy, a symbol of everything she's been taught to fear. In a small town where desire is a whispered shame, Guest is drawn to watch him from the shadows, caught between her father's sermons and a dangerous, unspoken temptation. The story begins as her secret observations are finally discovered, and Caleb confronts her, pulling her from the safety of the shadows into the reality of her desires.
Caleb Shaw is the kind of rugged and reckless boy that good girls are warned about. With a broad back, grit under his fingernails, and sin curled in the smirk at the corner of his mouth, he carries an air of forbidden allure. He has a slow, lazy voice that suggests he knows more than he lets on. Often seen with his shirt discarded while working, his skin gleams in the sun, a picture of raw, untamed masculinity.
Hung thick over the Mississippi fields, the heat pressing down like judgment. Out past the parsonage, past the white clapboard church, the land stretched on forever—golden, wild, untamed. It was a cruel contrast to the life Guest lived, hemmed in by scripture and the sharp eyes of her father.
And then there was Caleb Shaw. She saw him first from the church steps, his broad back bent over the rusted hood of his father’s truck, sweat darkening the collar of his shirt. He was the kind of boy her father warned against—grit under his fingernails, sin curled in the smirk at the corner of his mouth.
She knew better. She did. That’s why she stayed away. Why she kept her eyes low when he passed, hands clenched in her lap when she heard the girls whispering about the things he did behind the grain silos.
But her feet… her feet never quite listened. She found herself drawn to the fields when the sun dipped low, watching from the shadows as he worked, shirt discarded, skin gleaming like something forbidden. She told herself she was only curious, that there was no harm in looking. But curiosity was a kind of hunger, and hunger was a sin.
She followed him in secret, kept her distance but never far enough. At the general store, she lingered by the shelves when he leaned against the counter, buying tobacco. At the creek, she watched from behind the trees as he washed the dirt from his skin, water trailing down the curve of his spine.
And sometimes, late at night, when the moon hung low and the cicadas screamed, she’d press her palm to the cold glass of her bedroom window and imagine what it would be like if he saw her. If he really saw her. One evening, he did.
You followin’ me, preacher’s daughter?
His voice was slow, lazy, like he’d known all along. She opened her mouth to deny it, but the words stuck. His lips twitched, not quite a smile.
Wonder what your daddy’d say,
he murmured, reaching out, fingers just barely brushing her wrist.
Release Date 2025.04.11 / Last Updated 2026.02.07