“If you’re readingWhitney, you might likeInterdiction.Ifyou’re readingWillow, you should get?—”
"Yours,Aurora.I’mgonna read yours.”
It had been a while since he had called me by my full name.Usually,Ihated it, but this time,Ididn’t mind quite so much.
I huffed. “Petrichoris the last in the series.Don’tstart there.Startwith book one.Itdrives me crazy when people think they can read them out of order.”Imoved up the row, where the series was lined up neatly. “Halcyonis book one.”
Jack studied the four-book series. “Halcyon,Spindrift,Cymatics,Petrichor. . .Damn.Thoseare some badass titles.”Heskimmed the cover copy on the back of the first book. “Where’sthe last book in the series?”Hepointed to the note at the bottom that stated it was a five-book series.
I let out a sigh and sat criss-cross applesauce against the shelf. “Inever wrote book five.”Ipointed to the fourth book. “Petrichortook off and also ended me.Isold my soul for that bestseller tag.Andmy career.”
“Did you have a title for book five?”
Instead of fighting it,Ilet the sadness creep in asInodded. “Aurora.”
15
JACK
WHAT’S IN A NAME
“There you are!” the librarian said as she spun around the corner.Shetook a bespectacled look at the book in my hand and nodded. “Oh,Isee you’ve foundWanderWhitlock.Greatchoice.Thatauthor has a gift.Iswear,Ican never keep the whole series on the shelf at once, so it’s your lucky day.They’realways checked out.”
Aurora’s eyes fell to the floor, and my gut twisted.
The librarian shifted the stack in her arms. “Now,I’vegot good news and bad news.”Shehanded over the letters. “Thegood news is that you’re correct.Theyare manuscripts from a local author who wrote historical romance, andIfound the books they came from.Thebad news is that they’re all checked out right now, soIcan’t give them to you.ButIcan put you on the waitlist and give you a call when they're turned in.”
I reached forAurora, keeping her book tucked under my arm for safekeeping whileIheld her hand and helped her to her feet.
“That’s okay.I’mnot local.Idon’t have a library card here,”Aurorasaid. “Thankyou, though.That’svery kind.”
“I do,”Isaid. “I’dlike to read them.”
Aurora’s lip curled as she lifted a what-the-fuck eyebrow.
“I’ll get your information down at the desk when we head back there.Now, for the good news.”Thelibrarian beamed as she handed over a paperback. “Ido have the author’s autobiography on hand, if you’re interested in learning more about her.”
That seemed to piqueAurora’sinterest.Shelooked up at me. “Willyou check it out for me?” she whispered. “Ilove autobiographies.”Sheturned back to the librarian. “I’lltake really good care of it.”Shepointed at me. “Onhis honor.Andhe’s a firefighter.”
IfAuroraasked me for the moon as a nightlight,Iwould give it to her.Abook was the leastIcould do.
The librarian laughed. “Youseem like a book lover.Andany bibliophile is a friend of mine.”
The old lady had no idea.Shehanded the autobiography toAuroraand patted her hand. “I’llbe back up at my throne if you need anything.I’llcheck you out when you’re done.”
Aurora looked down at the book as the lady waltzed away.Thetitle text on the cover read,What’sInAName.Infine print above the much larger author’s name, it read,JuniperWhitlockwriting asAuroraArcher.
Holy shit.
“That’s my aunt,” she whispered with soft, trembling lips as she opened it up to the first page.
Instead of a plain chapter title, the book started with a handwritten note printed on the page.Theswooping script matched the lettersAurorafound in the house to aT.
Aurora is the best name.It’sthe scream of the ocean as it churns and rages.It’sthe flippant moodiness of the sea.It’sthe glimmer of lights in the night sky, dancing without care or reason just because she can.
* * *
“You okay?”Iasked asIshifted my hand on the steering wheel, getting comfortable for the drive back toCedarIsland.
