Mystic Springs was going to be okay. He didn’t know how, or why, or what had changed, but the coming year was going to be a good one.
The coming years.
His grandmother and her friends, wrapped up warmly for this chilly evening, walked toward him. They’d come to this end of town on the EGG bus, along with others from the retirement village. Each of the ladies held their gifts.
Knitting needles and yarn for Nana.
A “find a word” crossword book for Ramona.
A thousand-piece puzzle for Ginger.
“We’re confused,” Ginger said, as she shook her puzzle box at it.
Luke smiled. “Are you?”
“What is this?” Ramona asked.
His Nana smiled. She knew.
“Just a few hobbies to keep you ladies occupied and out of my business,” Luke explained.
Ginger gasped theatrically, but Ramona and Nana laughed.
“As if such trivial pursuits would ever stop us from sharing our wisdom and doing our best to guide the decisions of…” Ginger began.
Nana placed a stilling hand on her friend’s shoulder as she looked at Luke with a combination of love and censure. “In other words, nice try.” She took Jordan’s hand and studied the ring on her finger. “Congratulations,” she said sweetly, then she turned her attention to Luke. “About time, kid.”
He kissed her on the cheek, and the three ladies made their way back to the bus, where the others had gathered. Those with young children were making their way home, whispered words of Santa’s coming mingled with excited squeals.
As the crowd size grew smaller, so did the light from the star atop the tree. Slowly, gradually, the glow faded. But the town had received its blessing, and everyone knew it.
Mystic Springs was not only going to survive, it was going to grow.
“It’s going to be a good year, I can feel it,” Jordan said as they walked back toward the hardware store to lock up.
“It is,” he agreed.
“I don’t know how or why, but…”
Standing on the sidewalk by the front window, Luke placed his hands on Jordan’s shoulders and turned her to face him. He kissed her, and as he did the Franklin Star shone brightly for a few seconds more, coming to life, illuminating Main Street in a way that made everyone who was still out look up.
Everyone but Luke and Jordan.
And in that moment, he finally saw what the woman he loved needed, more than anything.
Him.
* * *
Read on for an excerpt from the first book in the Mystic Springs series, Bigfoot and the Librarian.
Bigfoot and the Librarian
This was not what Marnie would call a stellar beginning to her new life. Normally a flat tire wasn’t a disaster, but she was smack dab in the middle of Nowhere, Alabama, parked crookedly on the grassy shoulder of a narrow tree-lined road, with zero cell service. She had maybe an hour before the sun set.
Her new job at the Mystic Springs Public Library had seemed like such a good idea when she’d set out from Birmingham. It was going to be a new beginning, perhaps even an adventure. She could use a little adventure in her dull life. She’d been happy to leave her old job and her sweet but less-than-brilliant former boyfriend behind, and had actually dreamed of the perfection that was Mystic Springs. It had to be perfect! It was a small town with a well-stocked library manned by a single librarian. That librarian was soon to be her.
Not that she’d ever actually been to Mystic Springs, knew anyone who lived there, or had ever talked to anyone who’d been there, other than the town council representative who’d offered her the job over the phone, but in theory it was the perfect solution to her current life bump-in-the-road. In theory.
Could taking on a small-town library really be called an adventure? Why not? Anything was possible.
Mystic Springs was located south of Eufaula, Alabama. She’d checked it out on an online map before setting out in her usually reliable — but not at all adventurous — car. The small town was bordered on the east by the Chattahoochee River, with two much narrower waterways running along the northern and southern borders. The town was nestled in the horseshoe plot of land between those three flowing bodies of water. Maybe there really was a spring somewhere, mystic or otherwise, but she hadn’t seen it on a satellite image. She’d tried to zoom in, on her phone and again on her laptop, but the picture had remained annoyingly blurry.
She should’ve done more research on her new home, but she had not. Being laid off just a couple of months after deciding that no matter how sweet and devoted and ripped Jay was she’d never be able to teach him to pronounce the first “r” in “library” or have a meaningful conversation about anything other than his workout sessions or sex, she’d been eager to move on.
Jay — thirty years old and his mother still called him “JayJay” — would be fine. Before leaving town, Marnie had introduced him to an equally beautiful, and equally dim, woman who didn’t have to worry about pronouncing “library” correctly because she’d never been in one. And never would. Not that Marnie was judgmental or anything, but still…
Getting fired was never fun, but she had to face facts. It had been time to move on.
Mystic Springs was the first stop in Marnie Somerset’s well-planned new and improved life. She was twenty-eight years old. Her wild oats and romantic mistakes — ahem, Jay — were behind her. Only great things lay ahead. Head librarian would look great on her resume. If Mystic Springs wasn’t the idyllic place she imagined it to be, it could just be the first stop in this new phase of life. She’d move to a bigger city, by thirty, she imagined, where she’d run one of the premier libraries in the country and marry Mr. Darcy. Well, someone like him. She would fall in love with a man who was cultured, civilized, and romantic, and he would fall in love with her. It wouldn’t hurt at all if he looked hot in a waistcoat.
Many of her peers disdained Mr. Darcy and said his kind was out of fashion, but not Marnie. She’d always been a bit out of step, had accepted that about herself long ago. Who wanted to be like everyone else? Not her. She’d read Pride and Prejudice at an early age, and had always imagined Darcy as the perfect hero. Maybe in reality he’d need some work, but all in all… yummy.
In her mind he did look an awful lot like one of the actors who’d played him in a movie, but that was neither here nor there.
Marnie waited by her gray Nissan with the flat tire for almost forty minutes, hoping a car would drive by. She climbed into the car and sat in the driver’s seat now and then, but it was stifling hot and she didn’t dare keep her car running for the air conditioning. She wasn’t out of gas yet, but she was running low. On occasion she stood by the hood of the car and held her cell phone high in the air, hoping for an errant bit of cell service to miraculously shine down upon her phone. Nada.
There weren’t a lot of options. By the time she walked back to the highway — and appearances aside it was an official state highway — where she would eventually be able to flag down a car or a truck, it would be dark. She wasn’t sure exactly how far it was to town proper, but it was a walk she wasn’t eager to make. All she could see between her and Mystic Springs was a winding, tree-lined road. And trees. Lots and lots of trees.
She pushed her glasses up on her nose and looked down at her shoes. Any woman who was five foot two on a good day wore heels as much as possible. Not for hiking, though, not for walking down a narrow road on a warm summer night. She glanced in the direction of town. There were a lot of potholes ahead. It could be dangerous to walk along that road once it got dark. There was a flashlight on her phone, but it wasn’t powerful enough to light more than a step or two ahead. That would be better than nothing, she supposed, but not by much.
It had seemed like such a good idea to ship almost all her things ahead. Sensible walking shoes — along with all her other stuff, from furniture to knick-knacks — awaited her in her new home, a small house no more than two blocks from the library. S
he had never imagined she’d find a job in the field she loved that came with a more than decent salary and a house. How lucky was that?
Efficient movers had come to her apartment on Friday and packed up almost everything she owned, and then Marnie had spent the weekend with her best friend, Chelsea. They’d eaten nachos and drunk too many margaritas and watched sappy movies on television. Chelsea had taken today off, so they could have coffee and cookies and one last hug, before Marnie headed out for her new job and her new home.
The councilwoman who had hired Marnie, Susan Tisdale, had sent a photo of the house by email. That pic had been grainy — who didn’t have a decent camera on their cell phone? — and only of the charming outside. Grainy or not, the cottage looked like something out of a fairy tale, or a BBC period drama. In reality the place might need work, she really had no idea, but it would be the first time since she’d left her dad’s house that her home wasn’t an apartment. She wouldn’t have to smell what the neighbors were having for dinner, or know precisely when the woman upstairs exercised.
Zumba.
All Marnie had with her was her purse, her laptop, and a small overnight bag with an impressively stocked cosmetics bag and a couple changes of clothes. There was one extra pair of shoes in the bag, uncomfortable but really cute sandals with kitten heels.
Why hadn’t she shipped her makeup ahead and kept a pair of running shoes in the car? Not that she ever actually ran…
“I give up,” she said, resorting to talking to herself. Car locked, purse strap on her shoulder and damned useless cell phone in her hand, Marnie started walking toward town. She was used to the heels, she normally wore them at work all day, but she knew it wouldn’t be long before she was cursing her preferred footwear. Optimistic, she held her head high and took long strides down the deserted road. A horrible thought crossed her mind. What if she’d taken a wrong turn? What if Mystic Springs wasn’t straight ahead? To the right, the land was undeveloped and thickly wooded. To the left, some attempt had been made to clear away the brush here and there. Still, there was no sign of life.
She’d been walking ten minutes — seemed more like thirty but the clock on the phone still worked — when she approached a turnoff on the left side of the road. Overgrown shrubs and a stand of spindly trees hid what was beyond the gravel road until she was right upon it.
Marnie stopped. Blinked. Stared. Then she sighed in dismay. The windowless building, which was about the size of an average convenience store, sported one bare lightbulb near a rusted metal door. A single — also rusted — red pickup had been parked near that door. Did someone live there? Was it a business of some kind? Maybe it was a workshop, or a warehouse. For a few seconds she considered walking to that building, whatever it might be, and knocking on the door. The rusty truck belonged to someone. That someone had to be in the creepy building.
She lifted her cell phone high and prayed for a signal. Just one bar, please. Just one single bar. Nothing.
From beyond the rusted building, something unseen howled. A shiver walked down Marnie’s spine.
That building was not at all appealing. It didn’t even look safe. The truth was, the entire area kind of gave her the willies, even without the distant howl. But she’d come this far. She could walk a while longer. She couldn’t be far from town!
Not far past the creepy building stood a corroded metal sign welcoming her and anyone else who might venture down this road to Mystic Springs. It leaned crookedly to one side and was mostly covered by tall, climbing weeds. She was, so far, unimpressed. Still, the sign was a, well, sign, that she was close to her destination, that this was indeed the correct road.
She walked another five minutes, noting the encroaching darkness, looking left and right hoping for some indication of life. A subdivision that backed up to the road, just on the other side, maybe. A small business or cabin or RV tucked in the woods. There had to be someone out here! That search was as fruitful as her quest for a cell signal. Holy cow, what had she gotten herself into? Had she really been hoping for an adventure? This was definitely not what she’d had in mind.
She was not a fan of sweat, but she was sweaty now. Years ago, before she’d run off to Colorado with her old high school boyfriend, Marnie’s mother had told her women didn’t sweat, they glowed. That had pretty much been the extent of Carolyn Somerset’s motherly advice. Marnie had never glowed so much. Her blouse stuck to her back, and a trickle of sweat ran down from her temple to her chin. Her favorite bra, the one that offered support while actually being somewhat comfortable, had moved beyond slightly sticky to damp.
Finally, she caught a hint of motion out of the corner of her eye. Just ahead, to the right, something moved. Leaves rustled. Something… breathed? Snorted? She stopped, peered into the shadowy woods for a long moment and then called out a hopeful, “Hello?” as she tried to scan the darkness beyond the road. She held her breath and listened hard for an answer. Did she want someone — or something — to answer, or not?
She was an optimist most of the time, but when there was no answer she began to wonder if maybe she shouldn’t have braved the creepy building. Who — what — was out there? Anyone? Anything? Silly, she chided herself, working to make her heart return to a normal rhythm. The disturbance in the woods was just an animal. Nothing more. A squirrel, or maybe a raccoon. Nothing larger, she was sure of it. Birds! Yes, that was it. Birds could make a lot of noise in the brush.
Just ahead, movement again drew her attention. The leaves of a tree near the road shimmied and shook. That was not her imagination! It wasn’t a bird in the brush, either; it was far too big. Had to be a man. She smiled, lifted her hand to wave — and dropped it again as the hairy thing stepped into the road directly ahead.
What the hell? Marnie straightened her glasses, leaned forward a little, and squinted. Whatever that thing was it was seven feet tall, hairy from head to toe, and it stopped in the middle of the road to turn and look directly at her.
She quit breathing for a long moment. If that beast rushed her, she wouldn’t have a chance. Even without the heels, her legs were too short to outrun something like that. Her imagination whispered Bigfoot. Her logical brain whispered no way.
Her primitive survival instincts whispered run.
She did.
About the Author
Linda's first book, the historical romance Guardian Angel, was released in 1994, and in the years since she's written in several romance sub-genres under several names. In order of appearance, Linda Winstead; Linda Jones; Linda Winstead Jones; Linda Devlin; and Linda Fallon. She's a six time finalist for the RITA Award and a winner (for Shades of Midnight) in the paranormal category. She’s a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than seventy books. Most recently she's been writing as Linda Jones in a couple of joint projects with Linda Howard, re-releasing some of her backlist in e-book format, and diving into a new paranormal series set in the fictional Alabama town of Mystic Springs.
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www.lindawinsteadjones.com
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Also by Linda Winstead Jones
Mystic Springs
Bigfoot and the Librarian
Santa and the Snow Witch, a novella
* * *
Christmas Music and Magic
Blue Christmas, a novella
Always on My Mind, a novella
* * *
Romantic Suspense
Bridger’s Last Stand
Clint’s Wild Ride
Running Scared
* * *
Time Travel Romance
Desperado’s Gold
On a Wicked Wind
* * *
Fairy Tale Romance
Into the Woods
DeButy and the Beast
Someone’s Been Sleeping in My Bed
Big Bad Wolf
Let Me Come In
Cinderfella
One Day, My
Prince
Jackie and the Giant
Let Down Your Hair
* * *
Fantasy/Paranormal
The Sun Witch
The Moon Witch
The Star Witch
* * *
Western Historical Romance
Sullivan
Jed
Cash
The Seduction of Roxanne
* * *
For more, visit Linda’s website!
Santa and the Snow Witch Page 8
