When I was a young girl growing up in Russia, I saw a movie called “Ballad of a Soldier.” I remember very little about it, except there was a girl, and a boy who was going to the front. They were on a train together. Then he hopped off. He sang for her and played his guitar. She loved him.
Lone Star is the Paullina version of that general theme, except in book form and with all the things I love in it, and I fervently hope the things many of you will love in it. Hint hint, wink wink. I say no more. I’ve said too much.