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“The downstairs has been a bookstore for more than fifty years, but they went under during Covid. This upstairs was just a regular old attic space. As the downstairs just needed a good cleaning and a better display system, I spent most of the money up here. I had a contractor come in and take it back to the studs, frame the bath, and haul all the debris away. Had an electrician and plumber come in and then did everything else myself. You gotta love the internet. You can find anything there.”
“Well, it’s just lovely,” said Jessica.
“I know. I keep thinking Fiona should do an interior decorating book,” said Lori.
“Funny you should say that. I keep thinking about writing a female detective who moonlights flipping and selling houses,” laughed Fiona.
“Well, girls,” said Christie, glancing at her vintage Rolex. Slapping her hands together, she continued, “It’s showtime.”
Feeling happier and better about the future than she had in a long time, she led her friends outside, down the stairs, and to the front of the bookstore. When they rounded the corner, the enormous crowd burst into wild applause and cheering. Fiona turned to look back at her three closest friends and smiled. Not one time during the dark nights immediately after her ex-husband left had she even allowed herself to dream of something like this.
Very few people would ever know the fear and hell she’d gone through when her entire world had fallen apart after the divorce. She’d realized she had some core beliefs she needed to address and correct. She’d read a book by an author she greatly admired named Renee Rose. The bookWrite to Richeshad been the beginning of her healing and of her ability to climb up from the depths of her anger and despair.
They opened the door and invited the crowd in. Fiona knew that for some it wouldn’t have been considered a big crowd, but for her, it was huge. She imagined that the additions of Christie, Lori, and Jessica had added to the turn out, and she wasn’t too proud to be glad of it. In that moment, Fiona knew she was on the right path back to reclaiming her spot as a top author. She’d been a solid mid-lister in the past, but every moment when she meditated, she visualized a path that led up—and she could feel her strength returning.
And with it, success and happiness. It was interesting to her that she didn’t necessarily envision a new romance or a man at her side, but financial security, acceptance, and respect among her peers as being far more important. If a great man came along, romance might be in her future, but she was going to be damn sure he was worth making the kind of changes she’d need to make in order to have a successful relationship. It was easy to blame her ex-husband’s cheating for the breakup, but if she was honest, there was a lot that had come before—some of it her fault—that had led to the cheating, which for her had been the proverbial final straw.
Jessica took the podium they’d set up. “Hey, let’s get this party started! Fiona is going to read something from her new, dare-I-say blockbuster…” the crowd applauded and filtered into their seats “…Shifted Silence. Then we’re just going to mingle. The four of us have tables around the bookstore and books to sell. If you’d like one of us to sign something, we’re happy to do that, even if you bought it previously and just brought it in to be signed. And now, let me introduce my good friend and bestselling author, Fiona Fowler.”
Fiona had believed that the previous applause was more for her friends than for her, but the cheers and clapping were almost deafening. It was a little bit daunting, but also more incredibly encouraging than she might have thought.
“Thanks, Jess. And thanks, as well, to Christie Crofton, Lori Sykes, and all of you who came today. Your attendance means a great deal to me, and the wayShifted Silencehas been so well received means more to me than I can say. This book saw the return of Freya York, my wolf-shifter detective. It’s funny, as I thought I’d finished with her in my last bookShifted Reverie, but when I sat down to start a new book, which I thought would be a new series, Freya popped up with a story to tell.”
“Yay, Freya,” said an elderly woman in the back, wearing a navy-blue hat and veil.
“We missed you, Freya,” called a woman who could have been in her late twenties or early thirties, dressed all in black except for her purple hair.
Other people clapped and made their agreement known. It was incredibly rewarding, and Fiona could feel the blush rising up in her cheeks.
“I think she missed you, too,” said Fiona with a smile. “So, let’s see, what shall I read?” She took the hard back copy she had and let it fall open. “Oooh, that’s a good spot.”
“The smell of death was heavy in the air. Even someone without Freya’s enhanced senses would have picked up the scent. She drew her SIG, checking to ensure it was ready to fire, and moved towards the smell—the coppery fragrance of blood and death assailing her nostrils as she entered the clearing.
There in the middle of the clearing, on what appeared to be a make-shift altar made of stone, the victim lay spread-eagled, his feet and hands staked to the rock. Blood had poured freely from those wounds when his heart still beat. But it was easy to see it beat no more.
Freya checked the clearing before moving back into the trees, circling around and sweeping the area as she spiraled closer and closer to the victim. Keeping her gun at the ready, she got close enough to examine the body and fought back the urge to vomit. The man’s eyes and ears had been removed. As she looked closer, she saw that his tongue was missing as well.
The body had been carved and painted with ancient runes and symbols of high magic. His wrists had been slashed and his throat cut…”
“Stop!” shouted a man from the far back who’d been standing next to Jessica. “Ms. Fowler, I’m going to need you to come with me.”
Fiona recognized him. It was Slade Rafferty. They’d met at Jessica and Thorn’s engagement party. She also remembered him from school. He’d been a few years ahead of her and had joined the Navy and been recruited to join the SEALs. Like every other girl in their school, she’d had a mad crush on him. Who wouldn’t have—he was dark, brooding, and full of muscles. He’d been an all-star in several sports, but also captain of the chess and debate teams. He was smart, athletic, and his ex-girlfriends all adored him. He hadn’t changed. No, that was wrong; he’d actually gotten better looking.
But why was he interrupting her reading?
“Slade, what is wrong with you?” hissed Jessica.
Fiona smiled. He had no way of knowing how protective her friends were.
“Is there something I can help you with?” asked Fiona.
Slade made his way through the standing section of the crowd, parting them like Moses had the Red Sea as he and his people escaped the pharaoh. Slade made his way to the podium.
“Yes, I’m going to need you to come with me,” he said in a grave voice.
“I’m a little bit busy. All these people,” she nodded toward the audience whom she could see were hanging on every word, “came to hear me finish this reading and then meet and talk with me and three other author friends—Jessica being one of them.”
“I’m afraid this can’t wait. Perhaps your friends could take over for you.”
