Page 19 of Bear In A Bookstore
With a little wave, she made her way to the door.
“Kora, wait.”
Desi handed off Jack and moved to follow her, but his phone rang. With a curse, he looked at the screen. “Damn it.”
Kora left him to the call and slipped out onto the sidewalk, making her way to the bookstore. She let herself in and locked the door behind her. She hoped the book delivery would show up soon and give her something to do.
She really needed to get her mind off Desi and that sweet, warm little baby.
Chapter Seven
She’dbeenstaringather computer screen for over an hour. The scene she was writing just wasn’t working.
Rival elves finally met for battle deep in an ancient forest. Her hero needed to defeat his enemy so he could continue his quest for the magical crown. It was beginning to snow and the wind was becoming more violent as swords clashed and arrows slung from bows. Her hero had a disadvantage because his left arm was injured, and he could only fight with half his strength. The wind blew a tree branch loose, nearly catching her hero upside the head. Instead, it lodged inside the neck opening at the back of his armor, rooting him in place.
He couldn’t get free no matter how he twisted or turned. The protagonist lunged forward, sword ready to strike, but the hero managed to angle his own sword with his one weakening arm, driving it up as the villain advanced . . . piercing him in the chest . . .
But that wasn’t right.
With a groan, Kora dipped her forehead to her crossed arms on the desk. Wouldn’t the villain’s body armor be in the way of the sword? How could the hero manage to hold up his own weapon with only one arm, while pinned by a tree? The more she thought about the scene, the less the technical aspects of the battle made sense.
After so many years of writing thrillers about bad guys doing very bad things, it shouldn’t be so hard to write a simple fight scene. Bad things were one reason she decided to take a break from creating thrillers. She didn’t have the heart to write about kidnappings and assault and murder after what had happened to her. Creating fantasy had seemed like a much better idea, but the storyline consistently clogged in her brain and the technical aspects were never right.
Writing about magical forests, quests for treasure, and epic battles would probably be easier if she did more to research those things. She needed to get outside and poke around the forests around here to get a feel for the trees and flowers and rivers. The books she’d ordered on writing combat scenes would help, too, when they arrived.
With a sigh, she dragged herself out of the chair and peered out the floor-to-ceiling windows in front of her desk. She had a glorious view of a manicured lawn edged with thick forest. She only lived three miles from town, but the wilderness far outweighed housing developments in this area. There were four other houses on her street, all spaced apart by impressive sections of deeply wooded trees. She preferred living in a more populated area, but the price had been right. Considering she was only going to reside here for a couple of years, it made sense not to invest in a house closer to town with a higher purchase price.
There was a simple joy in her pretty yard, the flowers around the house the former owners had left, and even the clothesline she’d hung clothes on for the first time in her life. Small wildlife often passed through. Foxes, rabbits, and the occasional deer.
This place was growing on her a little bit.
She crossed to the kitchen and poured a glass of water. Leaning her hip against the breakfast corner, she absently sipped from the glass and mindlessly thumbed through the stack of papers she’d brought home from the bookstore. All were adverts for fundraising activities hosted by local businesses in support of Broke Week. A fancy linen card imprinted in gold foil invited her to the gala at the Stanley Hotel. Formal attire required. Tossing the card to the side, she continued rifling through but nothing else caught her eye . . . until the last invite.
Exotic Dancers, Ladies Only!
It was happening tonight to raise money for the Society of Historical Places. Kora huffed a laugh as she imagined a board meeting of elderly ladies brainstorming ideas for a fundraiser and somehow landing on male strippers. She might not know anyone else attending, but what a better way to meet her neighbors and force herself to socialize than by collectively watching hot dudes take their clothes off? Oh, she was definitely going to attend this. Not only for the novelty, but because her bookstore was registered with the Society of Historical Places, and she wanted to support their efforts to preserve Estes Park’s history. She’d heard that three of the five remaining miner’s cabins from the first settlement in the area were in disrepair and at risk for demolition. The society needed money. Lots of it.
She could do this, right? If nothing else, she’d make an appearance and if it got overwhelming, she’d leave. Her breathing picked up as she imagined herself walking into a room of unfamiliar faces.
Returning to her desk, she set down the water while glancing out the window.
And did a double take.
“What the hell?”
A buck with a thick neck and wide set of antlers lowered his head and rammed into the clothesline pole. Something billowed from his antlers like a sail. Shaking his head, he took a step back and rammed the pole again. Kora moved around her desk to get closer to the window. She realized that the fabric poofing from the deer’s antlers was a pair of ladies’ underwear.
A very large pair of ladies’ underwear.
When the buck turned his head to look toward the window, she spied a matching nightie wrapped by the strap around the animal’s lower tines. Its nostrils flared as it huffed at her, then turned back to the pole, pawed its front hoof into the grass, and rammed the pole again. Digging out her cell phone, Kora scrambled around her desk for the small piece of paper she was looking for.
Something crashed. Turning back to the window with a startled gasp, she went wide-eyed to find the deer had run through her clothesline and somehow wrapped the broken line around his antlers and the pole, securing himself.
With a blue bath towel over his eyes.
“Oh my God!”
The deer struggled against his bonds, snorting and waving the underwear in the wind.
