In the rural heart of Kituwah Falls, Tennessee—a town scarred by the opioid crisis and haunted by memory—three generations of war veterans, misfits, and dreamers wage a quiet battle for the soul of their community.

Jellybeaners is a searing Appalachian noir that opens with heartbreak: a child’s death on a cinder-strewn driveway, a grieving medic unable to look away. From that moment, the novel plunges into a polyphonic narrative of rage, resilience, and revelation. At its center is Samantha Walker—18, Cherokee, valedictorian, motocross rider, and righteous firebrand—whose journal crackles with fury, wit, and soul-searching as she wrestles with love, justice, and the mounting casualties of Big Pharma’s grip on her town.

As Sam’s voice rises, so do others: her grandfather Sarge, a Vietnam vet who raised her after her father’s death in Afghanistan; Jasper, the quiet math genius who shares her passion for The Little Prince and the Cherokee wilderness; and Bo Wruck, her rival on the motocross track and something far darker off of it. Interwoven are the stories of grieving parents, pill mill operators, and the Cuban cartels feeding America’s addiction from afar.

Part The Little Prince, part Winter’s Bone, and part small-town elegy, Jellybeaners is a lyrical and unflinching exploration of the collapse—and possible redemption—of a forgotten place. Author Gene Scott, with prose both poetic and punch-to-the-gut sharp, exposes the systems that fail the vulnerable and the stubborn hope of those who resist.

This is not just a story about opioids. It’s about family, land, love, and the quiet war fought in the margins of America. Jellybeaners will leave readers aching, inspired, and unwilling to look away.