I opened and closed my mouth like a fish tossed into a bucket. “How did you—?”
“This was meant to be, Lila. Now, if you wanna hear what I’ve got to say about your love life…” she trailed off with a laugh, and I felt a wave of affection flow through me for this amazing woman.
“Not right now, Mama,” I said with a smile, pushing aside thoughts of Sean, of my impending conversation with Trey, of Marlette’s legacy, and of anything else that did not involve Novel Idea.
I was a literary agent now.
The words were waiting for me. Words strung together like luminous pearls. Words as sharp as blades and as soft as rose petals. The stories, the authors, and the future readers were waiting, too.
I closed my door and sat down to read.
Turn the page for a preview
of Lucy Arlington’s
next Novel Idea Mystery . . .
EVERY TRICK
IN THE BOOK
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BY THE MIDDLE OF OCTOBER, THE HEAT AND LASSITUDE of a Southern summer had finally loosed its hold over Inspiration Valley. Cool air traveled down from the foothills and encouraged the people of North Carolina to search their closets for lightweight sweaters and to spend their weekends at football games or strolling through pumpkin patches in search of the perfect gourd.
Signs of fall were everywhere. Advertisements were stapled to nearly every telephone pole enticing the public into taking hayrides, attending apple festivals, and purchasing potted mums from the local plant store, the Secret Garden. An electric charge was present in the crisp mornings and a bowl of warm grits or a cup of hot cider never tasted better. Folks went about their business with a spring in their step.
Although I loved autumn and welcomed the brisk breezes, and the harvest moons hung from a canvas of deep indigo, I was too busy to enjoy the season. Novel Idea, working in conjunction with the town of Inspiration Valley, was on the verge of hosting the area’s first Book and Author Festival and I was in charge of registration for both the participants and the guest speakers. In addition to this time-consuming assignment, I had to find our agency a new intern because the woman I’d hired in August to take my place had been forced to accompany her husband in an abrupt job transfer to Minnesota.
This meant that come Monday, my desk and email inbox would be crammed with unfulfilled tasks. Thank goodness today was Saturday and the work I had before me was of the kind I’d been looking forward to for months. Today was moving day.
Most people view this activity as a miserable one. True, it involved plenty of hard labor and emotional stress, but I was giddy with excitement when my son, Trey, pulled up in front of my mother’s house in a borrowed pickup truck.
“Ready to put these guns to good use?” he asked, and then flexed his biceps. As usual, he was wearing a T-shirt. Freezing rain could cover the surface of Inspiration Valley and my son would insist that he wasn’t cold.
“Manual labor suits you,” I told him. “If you still have energy after a day of shoveling out the goat pens or chopping wood, you could always hike down the mountain and mow my lawn.”
Trey puffed out his chest, pleased that I’d noticed how strong he’d become since joining the co-op up on Red Fox Mountain. “You won’t have a man around now, Mom. So if there’s anything you need, just say the word and I’ll totally be here.”
Touched by his offer, I smiled at my only child. Trey was tall with the wide shoulders of a football player and had sky-blue eyes that were prone to twinkle with mischief. His fair hair was too long for my taste, but I reached up and ruffled it fondly. He squirmed away from my touch, readjusting his shaggy locks while introducing me to two young men from the Red Fox Mountain Co-op who’d be helping us transfer the furniture and boxes stacked in a Dunston storage unit into a charming cottage located minutes away from Novel Idea.
I’d had my eye on this creamy yellow house with the periwinkle shutters since it came up for sale, but because Trey had totaled my car and trashed the Dunston High School’s football field and bleachers in the process, I hadn’t been able to make an offer on this picket-fence paradise until I sold my house in Dunston. The moment I was freed from my financial burdens I rushed into the Sherlock Homes Realty office and put down a deposit to ensure that after a mid-October closing, I could lay claim to the two-bedroom house in the lovely subdivision of Walden Woods Circle.