Free The Pepper In The Gumbo: A Cane River Romance by Mary Jane Hathaway Page B

spring for
separate book cases but I fear for those ardent readers with limited space and
means. Perhaps the real cause of divorce is lack of shelf space? This needs to
be studied at a higher level.
                Yes
to science fiction. I don’t think I read outside the genre from the ages of ten
to twenty-five. It has served me well. And I admit I’m disappointed in your
lack of appreciation for Miss Flannery. Have you read any of her letters? Maybe
some background into her daily life would help. The
Graveyard Book was the first new children’s book I
loved as an adult. There have been others since then, but that was the first.
                As
for that book you spotted, The Seraphim and Other Poems was the first collection she published under her own name but I have other
reasons for liking it. Now I have to know how my Elizabeth Barrett Browning is
tied to your youthful outrage in Mr. Perrault’s poetry section.
                Your
friend,
                Browning
Wordsworth Keats
     
                Paul
pushed send , set the laptop on the
table and stood. He didn’t mention the gaming manual and he wondered if she
would notice. The six wings of the seraph in the logo of ScreenStop came from
the title of that book she’d just pointed out. But nobody knew that except for
him. Most people thought it was just a cool design, with two large wings
crossed at the top, two to the side, and two crossed at the bottom. It made him
nervous to dance around such a large clue, but Alice honestly seemed interested
in the books, and not in his identity. He didn’t mind letting slip the fact he
wasn’t married. She didn’t seem the type to want an online romance. Just the
opposite, really. She would be someone who would insist on face-to-face
communication.
                He
watched the mist outside fade away as the jet slowly descended through the
clouds. As soon as the jet landed, someone would spot the ScreenStop logo and
the news would spread that he’d returned to his home town. He felt his stomach
roll with nerves.
                It
had been a long time since he’d made a new friend. Well, not exactly. He made
friends all the time. He had five thousand Facebook friends, ten million Twitter
followers, and everywhere he went, people knew his name. But it never got
around to books. His whole public life was gaming, the company, and the huge conventions
that brought thousands of people together in cosplay. He never dressed up, but
he never quite felt like himself, either.
                Paul
reached for a Coke in the cabin fridge and opened it with a crack. The soda
tasted too sweet and he blinked against the burn of carbonation. Andy embraced
the geek fandom with open arms, feeling like he had the best of both worlds. For
years, Paul worked hard without a break, traveled without a real vacation, and
tried to fit into the New York high-tech lifestyle. He’d succeeded beyond
anything he could have imagined. But he didn’t feel at home.
                He
wandered back to his seat on the couch and set down his drink. The laptop
screen showed another message. Paul rolled his shoulders, feeling the tension
in his muscles. Would she insist on asking about the video game programming
book?
                Clicking
it open, he only saw a few sentences, and a .jpg attachment. She’d sent him a
picture. Of herself? Of her store?
     
                Dear
BWK (that’s how I think of you),
       
        I’m conflicted on the subject of Mr. Pope. I agree with him when he
says “an honest man’s the noblest work of God,” but then my hackles rise when I
see that too-oft quoted “woman’s at best a contradiction still.” I’m not sure
whether he had a sly sense of humor or if he really didn’t like women much.
                Also,
I feel like I’ve been very rude. I’m sending this picture as a literary