Love on Loan – J.C. Hannigan
LOVE ON LOAN
A HARTWOOD CREEK SHORT STORY
J.C. HANNIGAN
Arwen
I walked into the bookstore my parents own with two copies of The Witches of Coldwater Bay in my arms—one for my personal collection, and one for the library’s collection.
The Atticus Connelly signing would start soon, and my nerves were so jittery I was afraid I might drop the books.
And when I put them down to help my mother set up the refreshment table, I had to focus a little too hard on my tasks.
When my parents had told me that they’d successfully booked him for the signing, I’d been ecstatic.
The Witches of Coldwater Bay featured a fictional northern Canadian town, reminiscent of Hartwood Creek.
Seeing as he lived in the next town over, I couldn’t help but feel that it was heavily inspired by our little town and its lore of witches and love elixirs—only the witches in Atticus’s series were dark and evil, ensnaring the townsfolk of Coldwater Bay to do their bidding.
It read like a dark Hocus Pocus, which had been my favourite movie when I was a kid, with more murder, gore, and virginal sacrifice.
I personally thought it could benefit from a love story arc—then again, I felt every story could benefit from a little romance.
But even without it, the book was good .
It was our February pick for the Thriller Book Club at the library. As CEO and head librarian, I hoped that I could somehow persuade Atticus to attend. He didn’t use social media, so I was taking this opportunity for what it was.
“I see no harm in asking,” Mom said with a warm smile once I’d finished telling her my plan. “Just remember your father had a difficult time convincing Atticus to come out for this signing. I’m not sure he’s a fan of these kinds of events.”
I tried to ignore the disappointment that settled in my chest.
“You’re right, there’s no harm in asking,” I said, trying to bolster my confidence.
“You could mention it to his assistant,” Mom suggested, gesturing to the willowy beauty currently setting up a banner at the front of the room.
“I’d rather approach him directly, I think,” I murmured, intimidated by her poise.
Atticus’s assistant, Julie, seemed to be in her early-to-mid-twenties, and she was dressed in a navy long-sleeved knitted sweater with tailored black dress pants and fancy matching shoes.
Her makeup was immaculate, and her mannerisms spoke of a confidence that I couldn’t even pretend to exude.
I’d dressed up, but I still looked the part of a thirty-something librarian with my cardigan over my high-waisted, faded blue jeans and plain T-shirt.
My wardrobe mostly consisted of cardigans and layers.
It could get chilly in the library, and I wasn’t one for going out on the town anyway.
I also hadn’t had a date in Goddess-only-knew when.
I hadn’t had much luck on the dating front.
Usually, the guys I dated wanted one thing, and one thing only—sex.
They didn’t want to talk or get to know me.
Dates were just preludes to sex, and that was it.
It was a chance for them to see me in person and make sure I wasn’t catfishing them, and when they were satisfied that my pictures matched my real life face, they moved on to the hook up, and a quick goodbye.
It was discouraging, but I could respect their blunt honesty.
I’d rather an ugly truth than a pretty lie.
But I wasn’t here to secure a date, I was here to learn more about a book I’d enjoyed and the author who wrote it—and hopefully convince him to join us for our next Thriller Book Club meeting.
We finished setting up with ten minutes to spare and, as always, people started arriving early.
The townsfolk of Hartwood Creek were nothing if not punctual.
They were also meddlesome, especially the Hartley triplets, who arrived together.
The Hartley sisters did pretty much everything together, including intervening in other townsfolks’ romantic lives.
They loved playing matchmakers to unsuspecting victims of their whims.
I stood with Mom and Julie and watched the room fill up.
I spotted a few people I’d gone to school with—Noah Wood, for one, and he’d brought a date.
Noah had been popular in high school, while I had been the quiet, nerdy type with a select few friends.
Despite our different social classes, he had always been kind to me.
When I caught his eye across the room, he lifted his chin in greeting.
I smiled sympathetically, feeling a little sorry for the guy.
Noah had recently captured the Hartley triplets’ focus, and they were hellbent on ensuring his relationship with the new girl in town was successful.
It appeared Noah wasn’t fighting them, though, which meant the rest of us singletons had to be careful, lest the Hartley triplets turned their attention to other potential matches.
My attention went back to Mom and Julie when I heard the words “running late” murmured.
Julie said something lowly, and Mom nodded understandably, then Julie took off, lifting her phone to her ear.
Mom walked up to the desk beside one of the cozy chairs we’d arranged for the Q breakfast, coffee, writing, lunch, more writing.
He revealed that he wrote an impressive five to ten thousand words a day.
I swooned, however, when he mentioned that his secret to taking quality breaks was to spend time with the Weimaraner he’d rescued a few years back.
“I spend my evenings reading. Sometimes my own work if a deadline’s approaching, but I mainly read for pleasure,” Atticus said, his gaze landing on me again as his lips wrapped around the word “pleasure”. It made my body thrum.
“Do you draw inspiration from real life?” someone asked.
“I mean, I don’t have any real life experience murdering people, or controlling them with magic for that matter,” Atticus chuckled, earning laughter from the crowd. “The locales might be familiar, but a lot of it is just my imagination.”
Then Betty Hartley—of the infamous Hartley triplets—raised her hand.
“Your writing is very descriptive, Atticus. My sisters and I were deeply impressed with your prose. However, there seems to be a lack of, shall we say, human connection?”
Atticus’s expression darkened. “I’m not sure what you’re asking,” he grumbled into the microphone.
“Well, everyone is either evil or trying to defeat the evil, but there seems to be a lack of deeper relationships and connections between the characters. Was that,” she paused, clearly for dramatic effect, “intentional?” I was sure she had one eyebrow raised but I was too far away to see it.