What We're Writing: One for the Books by Jenn McKinlay

Jenn McKinlay: Welp, having just skidded into my Paris book deadline sideways, wearing my pajamas, eating a donut, and crying, I am now back at my desk, writing ONE FOR THE BOOKS, the 11th Library Lover's Mystery, coming out in Fall of 2020. I have no cover art, and the title is still being debated, but the first few pages are a done deal, so here's a peek.

The Library Lover's Mysteries: Have you read them all?

Chapter One

     “Why is everyone staring at us?” Lindsey Norris asked her fiancé, Mike Sullivan, known to everyone in their small Connecticut shoreline town as Sully.

     “Are they staring at us?” He looked up from his phone where he was scanning the news, which for him meant the current sports scores, and glanced around the shop.    

     “Yes,” she confirmed. “And it’s kind of creepy.”

     Having slept late that morning, they were in line at the bakery which was tucked into the back corner of the town’s lone grocery store. Their dog, Heathcliff, was sitting between their feet and behaving like a perfect gentleman, so Lindsey was certain he wasn’t the one drawing the attention of every other customer in the bakery their way.

     “You’re right,” he said. “They are staring.”

     “But why?” she asked. She gave each of their persons a quick visual scan. They were both dressed with buttons aligned and zippers up and clothes right side out. There was no spectacular bedhead or egregious stains to be seen. Having been the focus of unwanted attention a few months before, being stared at still gave Lindsey the odd twinge of anxiety.

     Sully put his arm around her in a comforting gesture and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. “Wild guess here, but I imagine it’s because we’re getting married in a couple of weeks.”

     “Yes, but it’s a tiny ceremony on Bell Island,” she pointed out. “Just family and close friends, hardly an event worth noting.”

     “People like weddings.” He shrugged.

     “Sully, Lindsey, yoo hoo!” A voice called and Lindsey glanced past Sully to see Mrs. Housel, coming at them as fast as her short legs could carry her. Heathcliff hopped to his feet and began wagging his bushy black tail, looking for love from anyone willing to give it.

     “Morning, Mrs. H,” Sully said. “What can we do for you?”

     “I just need to know where you’re registered,” she said. She was breathless but still bent over to pat Heathcliff on the head before rising back up to smile at them.

     “Registered?” Lindsey asked. 

     “Yes, you know, for a wedding gift,” she explained. “I can’t possibly show up at your wedding without a gift. It would be bad form.”

     “Uh.” Lindsey glanced at Sully in a mild state of panic. 

     Mrs. Housel was one of Lindsey’s favorite patrons. They had bonded over a deep and abiding love of all things Agatha Christie. A tiny little bird of a thing, Mrs. Housel was the sweetest of the sweet. She lived on a fixed income in a modest cottage in the old part of town. Telling her the wedding was private and that she wasn’t invited would be like punting a puppy into oncoming traffic. Everything inside of Lindsey rebelled at the mere idea. Judging by the flicker of alarm in Sully’s eyes, he was thinking the same thing.

      “Mrs. H, Lindsey and I really appreciate the thought,” he began and then he stalled out. Sully’s heart was as big as one of the tour boats he captained around the Thumb Islands in the bay, and Lindsey knew he was struggling to find the right words. She immediately decided having one more guest wasn’t going to be a problem, especially one as tiny as Mrs. Housel.

     “We haven’t registered anywhere,” Lindsey said. “In fact, we’re asking anyone who attends our wedding to donate a book to the library instead of giving us gifts.” This much was true, at least.

     Mrs. Housel clasped her hands over her heart. “How wonderful. I just love you two. You’re like family to me.”

     “And we love you, Mrs. H,” Sully said. He looked oh-so relieved.

     Mrs. Housel reached forward and squeezed their hands with hers. Then with a wave, she fluttered out of the bakery as quickly as she’d arrived.

     “That was nice of you, darlin’,” Sully said.

     Lindsey shrugged. “What’s one more guest when it clearly means a lot to her. Besides she’s so tiny. How much could she possibly eat?”

     “Yeah, it’s like inviting a hummingbird to the wedding,” he agreed.

So, how about you, Reds and Readers, ever have anyone invite themselves to an event you were hosting and how did you handle it?