She put the tape in the player and pressed record. And I'd sing. My brother would beg her. "Let her go to bed." Sometimes she listened. Sometimes it would get worse. BROKEN WHISKEY LULLABY — September 7. #BrokenWhiskeyLullaby #BookTok #LangleyBennett #DebutAuthor

I was seven when Christmas ended. Not the date. The idea. Broken Whiskey Lullaby — September 7 🥃 #BrokenWhiskeyLullaby #BookTok #traumainformed #comingofage #darkacademia

There were two red bikes. One was mine. One was his. They belonged to someone else first. But they didn't catch us. So now they're ours. From BROKEN WHISKEY LULLABY — link in bio. #BrokenWhiskeyLullaby #LangleyBennett #memoir #childhoodmemories #survivalstory

The six months nobody saw. December 2025: a blank page, a whiskey glass, and the sentence I was afraid of. March 2026: 177,178 words. 31 chapters. A prologue I rewrote seventeen times. The book was teaching me what it wanted to be. June 2026: V9f. Margin fix. Back matter. Cover reveal. KDP

I always thought publishing would feel like an ending. It does not. It feels like a door opening instead of closing. Here is what soft launch means: the book is live. The pre-orders are counting. The reviews are welcome. And the story is no longer mine alone. September 7 is the hard launch

She was fifteen. She had a baby in her arms and a coat that didn't close and a door that slammed behind her. She didn't choose to leave. She was thrown out. What she carried out was everything she had. And it wasn't enough. Broken Whiskey Lullaby. September 7. Pre-ord

Some people ask me what Broken Whiskey Lullaby is about. I usually start with what it isn't. It isn't a love story. It isn't redemption on easy terms. It isn't the story of a woman who walked away from something and built a better life in montage. It's the story of a do

There are rooms in this book I almost didn't let you see. The moonlit floor. The shattered music. The glass left empty on the sill. These are not scenes. These are feelings. These are the places the story goes when no one is watching. Broken Whiskey Lullaby. September 7. Pre-order link

Six months I have been looking at this cover alone. On my laptop at 2am. On my phone during grocery store lines. On the wall above my desk where I pinned it so I would remember what I was building toward when the work felt too heavy. Today I finally get to stop looking at it alone. This is

Age three. She threw a cereal bowl at a man choking her mother. No one taught her to do that. No one thanked her after. Broken Whiskey Lullaby is the first book in a trilogy about surviving what should have broken her, and becoming someone worth becoming anyway. #Literary fiction #memoir-fic

There is a car in Book 1 that matters more than any room in the house. It appears in fragments. A cold backseat. Age twelve, driving her mother home. A rearview holding a house already gone. The car is not about the vehicle. It is about who had to hold the wheel. Cover reveal June 28. 🥃

5 sentences that never made BROKEN WHISKEY LULLABY. the ones that got cut in edits. the ones that lived in early drafts and died in final ones. the ones i still think about. swipe through. tell me which one you wish had stayed. 🖤 which line haunts you most? drop the number below. #Book

Every object in this carousel is a sentence Christine never said out loud. The coat. The pill bottle. The mark on her face. The window she watched the world from. These are the things a childhood gathers when it is learning to survive. Broken Whiskey Lullaby Cover reveal June 28 🥃 #boo