I glanced around as I took my own jacket off and draped it over the back of my chair, spotting Arwen Love standing with her mother, Agatha, and another woman I didn’t recognize at the side of the room.
I’d gone to school with Arwen, although she’d always been super shy and reserved. I dipped my chin in greeting, and she smiled shyly back and turning her attention back to her mother and the other woman, who was saying something to Agatha.
“Who’s that?” Nellie asked curiously, catching the exchange.
“That’s Arwen Love, she’s the daughter of the bookstore owners, Corin and Agatha. She’s also the CEO and head librarian of the Hartwood Creek Public Library,” I replied.
“Oh, that reminds me, I need to get a library card,” Nellie said.
“That will be our next date then.” I smiled at her.
“Good evening, everyone!” Agatha’s voice pulled our attention to the front of the room. “Thank you all for coming out tonight! We are so excited to host Atticus Connelly. Please, help yourself to refreshments along the back wall! We have lemonade, coffee, tea, and baked goods donated by Tout de Sweets. Atticus is running a little late, but he’ll be here within the next fifteen minutes.” She gave a warm and welcoming smile, gesturing to the refreshment tables at the back of the room.
“Hungry? Or thirsty?” I asked, gesturing with a tilt of my chin to the refreshment table. Nellie glanced in the direction of the food.
“Mmm, I could probably eat. Let’s be real, I could always probably eat,” she said, letting out a small laugh as she put her hand on the swell of her belly. I covered her hand with my palm.
“Well, you are eating for two right now,” I reminded her lowly, winking at her. “I probably should have taken you out for real food, first.”
Nellie’s cheeks heated, and she smiled. “It’s okay, I did eat dinner, I promise. I’m feeling snacky. That’s nothing new.” I let my hand fall away as we stood up, moving it to the small of her back as we made our way over to the refreshment table.
We both grabbed glasses of lemonade and a small plate of brownie bites to share. I said hello to a few familiar faces, making introductions to Nellie.
Before we could make it back to our seats, Betty, Alice, and Dorothy intercepted us. “Look at the two of you! You make a lovely couple,” Alice cooed.
“The gene pool is going to result in some adorable little ones,” Dorothy giggled in agreement.
Nellie froze, and I could sense her discomfort.
“I thought you three preferred romance books to thrillers?” I asked, changing the subject as abruptly as I could.
“Oh, we do. But we had fun reading this one.” Betty grinned. “Atticus has such an interesting mind, don’t you think?” She directed this question at Nellie.
“I haven’t read it yet,” Nellie admitted. “My genre of choice is romance, too. But I’ve never been to an author signing though, so I thought I’d check it out with Noah.”
“They are fun!” Alice said. “The Loves know how to host a good event. It’s a shame Atticus is running behind, although I’m surprised he agreed to this at all.”
“Yes,” Dorothy nodded. “He’s usually not one for public appearances. We should feel honoured that he chose Hartwood Creek as his first bookstore event.”
“He probably did it to rub it in.” Alice chuckled, not seeming the least bit deterred by that possibility. “When you do read it, I’m sure you’ll be able to spot all of the similarities between Hartwood Creek and Coldwater Bay.”
“Although he’s taken a lot of creative liberties,” Betty said with an arch of her penciled-in brow. “If he weren’t such a captivating storyteller, I might be offended.”
“Writers take creative liberties all the time,” Alice reminded her sister with a wry smile.
Before anyone else could get another word in edgewise, Agatha Love was speaking into the microphone again. “Could I have your attention, please! The event is about to start, please find your seats.”
Atticus Connelly was exactly how Corin described him: a recluse. He appeared put-out by the amount of people in attendance. The woman I’d seen earlier—his assistant—seemed to run the show, directing questions to an unwilling and reserved Atticus.
But after a few moments, he seemed to relax and started to engage a little more willingly with the audience as he explained his writing process and where he drew inspiration from.
Betty raised her hand during the question segment, and when Julie called upon her, she stood up. “Your writing is very descriptive, Atticus. My sisters and I were deeply impressed with your prose. However, there seems to be a lack of, shall we say, human connection?” Betty’s lips twitched with a smile as Atticus’s expression darkened.
“I’m not sure what you’re asking,” he grumbled into the microphone.
“Well, everyone is either evil or trying to defeat the evil, but there seems to be a lack of deeper relationships and connections between the characters. Was that,” Betty paused here, inserting her flair for dramatics, “intentional?”
“Not every story needs to have a romantic element to it. If you were looking for that, you shouldn’t have picked up a dark paranormal thriller,” Atticus responded gruffly.
