grow on trees, despite the books being made of those same trees. Yeah, teach them a money spell that works. If you’ve got money, the honey will come,” she half-jested as she flipped through one of the books about the Kama Sutra.
As the intoxicating scent of worn books sprung forth, she took a deep inhale. The air was tinged with one of her favorite scents in the whole damn world. “You know what, Sherry? I’m placing those candles in a glass display from now on, under lock and key. I’ll order another one and that will be a nice display for them, too.”
Sherry nodded then jammed her earbuds into her ear canals before turning her attention to the computer and updating the inventory. Lauren flipped slowly through a few more pages of the volume she’d been giving TLC to.
Time passed and she found herself half daydreaming, looking about the store. A few customers milled about, some with their plastic black baskets full to the brim of reading material, others passing the time or drinking coffee. A deal and an adventure awaited between all those pages they were looking at. Kindred Spirits Bookstore was Lauren’s baby, and she was happy to say that she was no longer barely breaking even. Now, she cleared a profit, which allowed her to hire a couple of people and someone to take care of the payroll, too.
She was proud of her little shop where she sold books of all sorts, but kept special spots for reading material geared towards self-help, women’s literature, spirituality, fantasy fiction, African American studies, higher education, romance, and yes, a number of more explicit novels, too. In fact, there was an area dedicated to the more carnal reads, not pushed in the back of some dark corner, but slightly off to the right, within view. Authors such as Sylvia Day and Zane got pride of place, and she considered all these offerings a guilty pleasure. Life was for the living, and exploration – despite the fact she at times found it hard to relate to any of the main female characters in such reads.
On one side of the shop were several lime green and orange tables, and comfortable chairs for patrons to sit, read and daydream in. With free Wi-Fi and a couple computers, a public printer and fax machine, it was a nice spot to take care of a bit of business or simply sit and be. Gillian, another one of her employees, worked part time making coffees and assorted cookies, cakes and pastries to sell, and the taste sure as hell beat Starbucks, hands down.
The other side of the store was dedicated to rows of books, all categorized according to genre. Some were brand new, others gently used, all with a fitting price tag. All purchases came with a free bookmark showcasing her company logo of an umbrella with books falling from the sky above it. Every now and again, a handful of mints and a link to a free eBook provided by one of the local authors in the area would be tossed in the bag, too. As she cleaned the old Kama Sutra book dating back to the 1950s the front door opened, and the chime sounded.
At that moment, the air seemed to have been sucked out of the place. A cool breeze crept in when a tall, broad shouldered man, around 6’4, sauntered toward her like a menacing giant. He held a folder in his big hand, but what struck her the most was his attire – a filthy white tank top, his arms exposed and sweaty, adorned top to bottom with impressive black tattoos that made his muscles pop all the more. He paused every now and again, looking to and fro, as if searching for someone in particular.
His jeans were soiled, too, stained with perspiration and God only knew what else, and he had on a pair of black and tan work boots. Around his wrist hung a black leather bracelet studded with little bullets, something a biker would wear. Hell, they were in Georgia, so the damn things may have been real. He approached the check-out counter and now he had not only her attention, but Sherry’s, too. Piercing amber eyes fixed on her. His hair and beard were well-groomed, a glossy, healthy black. But, his brows were furrowed and he seemed annoyed, as if he had a damn bone to pick. A score to settle.
“Hi. Welcome to Kindred Spirits,” Lauren greeted. “May