#I just think Cornwall is pretty and I’m deep in its history. I also think the American west is pretty and I’m fascinated by ITS history

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 16)

Jemima Jones III

Working with Micah and Javier on another job. A little something unexpected, and frankly unwelcome. 

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

  -

I ended up helping Javier with taking down the rest of the tents and packing them away; he explained to me what had happened in Valentine, a huge shootout with Leviticus Cornwall and his men. I'd heard of that man, of course, one of the richest and most powerful men in the area; he practically owned half of Saint Denis. It was news to me, however, that the gang had issues with him, but I knew it wasn't good. Everyone was okay following the shootout, thankfully, but we had to leave quickly otherwise they wouldn't be. With everything on the wagons the group rode out, I was on the back of Rayna accompanying the convoy, riding alongside the wagon that Dutch was sat on. He seemed somewhat in a better mood once we were moving, and he even thanked me for sticking around, it seemed as though he wasn't expecting me to. 

We met with Charles along the way and he directed us to where we'd be staying. I found myself in Scarlett Meadows for the second time that day, and we settled at Clemens Point, out by the lake. The air was muggier here but I liked the place, it was nice being by the water. It was funny, being a little closer to my original home, too.

It took us a few days to get set up in our new camp, and over those days I spent more time with other members of the group, getting to know them better. I'd given Charles his oleander and he said he'd start working on my bow as soon as he could; I told him not to stress himself about it but he insisted he'd like to make it. I'd spent more time with Javier, helping him set back up the tents we'd taken down together at the old camp. I found him to be full of quiet wisdom, he told me about his revolutionary past, his journey to America, how he fell in with the gang when he had nothing. He told me how he'd fled Mexico to protect his loved ones from his actions; actions that he did not specify and I did not question. He'd clearly seen and dealt with a lot over the years but what stood out to me was the fact that he seemed so grateful for where he was now, and grateful to Dutch who had taken him in. I spent my time with him mostly listening rather than speaking.

I spent a little time with Strauss, he'd been injured in Valentine and was taking it easy, I'd check on him from time to time. He wasn't a young man, and though his wounds were far from fatal it struck me that he wasn't the type to get involved in the gunfire often, and the ordeal seemed to have shaken him quite a bit. He'd be fine, though. He went back to sitting at his little desk with his ledger in no time; in fact the whole camp fell back into its routine pretty quick. 

I hadn't had much to do with Arthur since we moved, we'd see each other around camp and he'd nod at me politely but always seemed preoccupied. We shared a few words in the mornings when we continued to wake early, meeting each other by Pearson's campfire. It became a little surprise every morning, seeing which one of us would be up first to make the coffee. It amused me enough to keep me rising early, though I doubted Arthur paid as much attention to it as I did.

Pearson began commenting on it. He was always the next person to wake up after us, and he joked about us putting him out of a job by brewing the coffee, but he seemed to appreciate it anyway. 

Still, I couldn't help feeling things were a little odd between Arthur and I since that day in Scarlett Meadows. He avoided eye contact more than I did, for a change, and he was always a little eager to excuse himself. It saddened me, not just because I had been hopeful of something blossoming between us but because I liked Arthur as a friend, too. I enjoyed his company and it hurt that things had changed. I wanted to bring it up, but I was also scared of making things worse. 

One morning, when Arthur rose earlier than me, I joined him by the fire and he'd already poured me my coffee. 

"Saw you getting up," he explained, handing me the mug. 

"Thanks," I smiled, hugging the mug with both hands. "Mornings around here are real pretty, ain't they?"

"Sure," he agreed with a nod, following my gaze to the lake which reflected the warm pinks of the sky as the sun rose. 

"Uhh, I was wondering,” I started, looking down. I felt him looking at me, waiting. "Maybe we could do something together today. Maybe go hunting again, or even just another ride for leisure, like last time."

Arthur was quiet for a long while, and it didn't seem like he was going to answer, so I looked at him. He was staring at me, his lips parted just slightly, looking frozen. I averted my eyes again, feeling embarrassed. 

"Maybe Charles is better suited to going hunting with you, he knows a lot more than I do," he finally said. He missed my point completely, or maybe he was purposely ignoring it.

"Well, it's more about–” I paused, sighing softly. "Feels like it's been a while since we saw each other outside of our morning coffee, we don't have to do nothing, I just thought we might… I enjoy our trips together, is all."

Arthur sighed, and I worried that all I was doing was annoying him. I opened my mouth to back track, but he spoke. He said my name, quiet and somewhat downhearted, "I enjoy them too, but I'm worried that spending too much time with you is gonna–" he stopped and pressed his lips together. 

I saw what was happening. He'd realised that I was getting a little too fond of him and now he was doing damage control, letting me down gently.

"I don't want you getting hurt; associated with me and punished for my actions."

"Okay," was all I said. I wanted to argue, tell him that his reasoning didn't make any sense considering I was in this gang now, I was part of it all. But I knew that it was just an excuse and me pushing it would only make him uncomfortable. 

"Okay?" He repeated, seeming surprised at my acceptance. I shrugged my shoulders. 

"If it's what'll make you comfortable, Arthur. I'm not gonna lasso you and force you to spend time with me," I explained.

"It's not that I don't want to it's that I… I shouldn't," he said, I looked him in the eye and watched him squirm under my gaze. His Adam's apple moved with his deep swallow and his eyes seemed to want to look away. 

"But you do a lot of things you shouldn't," I pointed out to him and he seemed taken aback for a second, then choked out a laugh.

"Well, here's me practising a little self restraint," he countered, shaking his head in amusement at me. I kept my expression neutral and refused to break eye contact.

"Don't hold back on my account," I said, sipping my coffee and licking my lips, noting the way his eyes flickered down to them. "It'd be a real shame if you and I never went out drawing together, like we said."

I knew I'd planned on not pushing him, but at the end of the day, I liked him. I didn't want to go on like strangers just because I'd developed a little crush on him. 

"We will," he finally nodded. "I'll keep my word on all that."

"I'm glad, I enjoyed that."

"I did too," he agreed, looking down into his coffee. 

We fell quiet again, and I wanted so badly to say something, maybe plead with him to forget about whatever made him change his mind about being friends. I couldn't say anything, though, I was too nervous. And just like the previous mornings we'd spent at Clemens Point, after finishing his coffee, Arthur went to leave. 

"Anyway, enjoy the rest of your morning," he said to me before walking away. 

I watched him cross the camp and mount his horse, leaving and only looking back at me once. 

-

Since moving camps – and since Arthur had spent less time with me – Micah had taken it upon himself to linger around me whenever he was free. He hadn't tried to touch me since I told him not to, though, so I couldn't complain. His company had been pleasant enough, he'd sit nearby and play with his knife while I got on with my chores and he'd ask me things about myself. I answered most of his questions, though dodged ones about my romantic history, telling him it wasn't his business. He laughed at that, agreeing with me and letting it be. I pretended not to notice the way other members of the camp looked at us, they never said anything but I knew they were weighing us up, trying to listen in and analyse what was happening between us. 

Later that morning, when the rest of the camp had risen, he and I were sitting by the fire while I repaired a hole in one of his shirts. I shot him a warning glance when he made a comment about me making a good wife for someone one day, and sewed the split seam back together for him just in time for Javier to find us. 

"Hey, you two doing anything today?" He asked. I handed Micah his shirt and looked at Javier, curiosity piquing. 

"Not really, just chores," I told him. 

"Well I guess it depends on what you're selling, you got a job for us?" Micah replied. 

"I think so. See, before we left Valentine I got talking with this guy in the saloon; said his brother stole something from him and he's keeping it in a lock box under his bed. Trouble is, he can't go anywhere near the place otherwise this guy'll shoot him on sight. Hates him," Javier explained. He pointed at the two of us. "You two worked pretty well together the other day, I heard."

"I reckon we did," Micah glanced at me and I gave a small nod of agreement. 

"Well, the guy offered me a lot of money to get it back for him, but I don't fancy my chances going in there without some sort of distraction. You wanna polish those wedding rings and help me out?" Half of his moustache lifted with his smirk. 

Micah and I shared a glance, but I was the first to respond. "Why'd you need two of us?"

"Well, I don't feel good about sending you in there alone, muñequita, this guy sounds like he can be a piece of work," he explained to me before glancing at Micah. "And I don't see how you'd manage to distract him by yourself without getting shot, no offense amigo, you're not the most likeable guy I've met."

"No offense taken," Micah said drily.

"But as a married couple, you think we have a chance?" I tried to have faith but I wasn't sold, and I raised a brow at him.

"Assholes like him wouldn't help a guy like Micah, and they might try to take advantage of a woman on her own…But what sort of monster wouldn't help a nice couple with a lady in a delicate condition?" Javier queried, lifting his hand and drawing attention to the blanket he was holding.

And that's how I found myself on a wagon on my way to some scary stranger's house with a balled up blanket under my skirt, under the instructions; just don't say much and look queasy. The house we were looking for was just outside of Valentine, far enough out that they weren't worried about it, based on what had gone down in the town before we left. Javier took the reins and I rode shotgun, Micah sitting in the back, and we rode out there as Javier explained some more. 

"This guy said he wants us to bring him the box unopened, and he'll pay a hundred dollars."

"A hundred dollars? What if there's something inside worth two hundred?" Micah questioned, sounding miffed. 

"And what if there's a bunch of sentimental shit in there that ain't worth jack to us? It's a gamble, I say we don't open it. We just get our money fair and square," Javier countered. I was with him.

"Yeah, at least if we don't open it we can say we're doing a good deed," I chuckled, my hands on my makeshift baby bump.

"There could be anything in there," Micah said.

"Yeah, there could be a gun, there could be photographs, a letter from a dead relative, or stacks of cash," I shrugged.

"The way this guy was talking, he seemed real depressed. Didn't sound to me like there was money in there," Javier shook his head. "Anyway, this is my job, Micah, we don't open it."

"Fine," he sighed. 

We stopped the wagon at the house and the boys climbed down, both coming around to offer a hand to me. It was Micah who got there first, and I took it, leaning back and struggling down slowly with my swollen belly, stretching my acting muscles. 

"This convincing?" I asked.

"Very," Javier laughed. "I'm gonna get out of sight, you two do your thing and keep him away from the bedroom. I'll be as quick as I can." 

Javier jogged away from Micah and I and we took a moment to prepare.

"If we happen to need names, you going by Jemima again?" 

"Sure. What about you?"

"Call me, uhhh, Robert," he nodded. "Alright, come on my sweet," he smirked, taking my hand and putting his other arm around the small of my back, guiding me up to the house like I was fit to collapse at any moment. I walked a little sluggishly, putting on a bit of a wince as we neared the door. I knocked, then breathed deeply as I waited. 

The door opened, a gun was cocked and pointed right at us and a man grumbled; "what'chu want?"

I would've been scared if the gun didn't immediately dodge me when the man noticed my 'condition'. He was an ugly bastard, as many teeth as a newborn and skin scaly and mottled with a layer of grime that looked like it'd been there for years. 

"Oh! I-I-I'm sorry sir, we don't mean you no trouble," Micah began, pulling me back and away from him. "We're just passing through and my... my wife here has taken a little queasy. Baby's due any day now."

"You ain't about to spit a sprog out on my porch, now?" The man grumbled, but he lowered his gun completely.

"Not yet," I shook my head. "Just morning sickness, I reckon."

"We was wondering if you'd mind doing a good deed, letting us take a couple minutes of your time. She'll be fine if she has a few minutes to sit down somewhere out of the sun, maybe drink some water? Can you help us out, partner?"

The man looked between us, a sour look in his slightly milky eyes. Eventually he sighed sharply and stepped aside, waving us in with the butt of his gun. "Alright. Jus' as long as you don't spew up in my house."

"Oh, I don't think I'm gonna. I'm just a little light headed, thank you kindly," I assured him, hobbling into the house. I looked around, getting an idea of the layout. 

Right in the front entrance there was a corridor, at the end of it I could see through a door to the end of a bed, I took it as that being where we had to keep him away from. To our left, there was a sitting room, which he led us into. The kitchen was accessed through a doorway at the far end of the room, out of view of the front door. If we kept him there, we'd be fine.

"Take a seat," the man said.

"Um, would you mind if I sat at the kitchen table instead? My back don't like those low down armchairs much," I said, and the guy shrugged indifferently as he walked through to the kitchen. The house was a little run down and grubby, with boarded up windows and holes in the floorboards.

Micah and I followed him and he helped me down into a chair at the table, then took a seat next to me. He didn't let go of my hand, cupping it between both of his own. The homeowner poured a cup of water from a tin jug and brought it over to me, placing it down on the table in front of me before crossing his arms, just standing there and watching me like a hawk. I peered down into the cup before drinking, relieved that it seemed pretty clean, but I only took a small sip. 

It was unbearably quiet, and I knew we needed some noise to give Javier a fighting chance. I leaned forwards and groaned, leaning my head into my free hand. Micah moved in close, reaching a hand to my back, rubbing gently. 

"Oh, angel, I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?" He crooned. I shook my head. 

"I'll be fine. It's just my back and- and my hips, they hurt so bad," I told him. Micah made a humming sound and got up, coming to stand behind me. He started massaging my back for me, pressing his thumbs into my muscles and rubbing circles. It was… surprisingly good. 

"I'm proud of you, darling. Child-bearing; ain't it a beautiful thing, sir?" He expressed with adoration that verged on unbelievable. I thought that he should rein it in a little. 

"Uhh, sure," the guy replied, and I didn't have to look at him to know that he was completely disinterested. 

"You got any kids, sir?" Micah asked, moving lower down to the middle of my back. He kneaded my back with the heels of his hands and I let out a soothing breath. As slimy as the man could be, he knew how to give a massage. 

"What do you think?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking."

"No, I ain't got no kids."

"Oh, well we've got three at home with the nanny, ain't we, my dear?" Micah leaned over my shoulder, looking at my face. I gave him a look. 

"Three? How old's your woman?" The man scoffed in mild disbelief. 

"Ohh, we started young," Micah smirked, taking my chin in his hand and tilting my head towards him. My eyes widened as he looked at me real close up. "Didn't plan a single one of 'em, but we wouldn't have it any other way."

I wasn't expecting it when he leaned in, it was why I didn't dodge it when he pressed his lips against mine. It was also why I jolted back, flinging my hand out to shove him away; it didn't matter though, the damage had already been done. I was so focused on the fact that Micah had just kissed me that it took me a few moments to register the look on his face, the shock of it, and to remember that we were meant to be married. I scrambled for an excuse. 

"I…I've been throwing up all morning, you really wanna kiss me now?" I stammered, my cheeks burning hot red, my heart thumping, hands shaking, everything in me buzzing. I had all the feelings I expected from a kiss but they didn't feel good, not with Micah. I just felt angry.

"In sickness and in health, angel. I don't care," Micah said, chuckling uneasily before patting my arm and sitting back down. He cleared his throat before carrying on talking, saying something to the man, but I wasn't listening to any of it. 

For the rest of my time there I kept my eyes focused on the table, thinking of Arthur and how close he'd been the other day. How much different I felt about that moment and that would-be kiss. How if he had followed through with it I might not be feeling as bad as I was right then. 

At some point, Micah decided we'd stayed long enough and grabbed my arm, helping me up from the chair. He asked me how I was feeling, all concerned and loving and I merely nodded in response, happy to get out of there as quickly as possible. Micah thanked the man for his hospitality and walked me through the house and out the door, insisting that he needn't see us off. We'd already taken up plenty of his time.

Walking towards our wagon I noticed that Javier was already waiting for us. Micah nudged my side. "What the hell happened in there? Shoving at me like that."

"You kissed me," I murmured, not looking at him.

"Well yeah, Mrs. Bell," he grumbled, speaking it like a question. 

"I never said that was okay," I hissed, looking up only to scowl.

"Alright then, I'm sorry!" He spat back. 

We reached the wagon and I ignored Micah's outstretched hand and climbed on without his help. Javier looked between us, instantly feeling the tension. He whipped the reins, getting us out of there. 

"Did you get the thing?" I asked Javier, my arms crossed firmly over my chest, face like a slapped ass no doubt. 

"Of course, how'd it go at your end? You don't seem too happy," he replied, then glanced over his shoulder at Micah. 

"She's got her knickers in a twist because I played my role as her husband too well," Micah answered for me in a sneer of a tone.

"He kissed me without askin' first," I clarified. 

"And I apologised!"

"It's not enough," I muttered.

"Hey, alright, it was just a kiss?" Javier cocked a brow and I frowned at him. 

"Just a kiss," I repeated. "Maybe to some, but it was my–" I stopped myself, shaking my head and turning back to face forward. 

"It was what?" Micah asked. 

"Ohhh mierda, you fucked up, man," Javier told Micah, putting two and two together before him. 

"I apologised!" He emphasised. 

"Dumbass, you ain't worked it out? She's never kissed no one before," Javier explained. "You took that from her, I'd be pissed too if you were my first kiss," he snorted, but he didn't seem all that amused. 

Micah was silent for a little while, but eventually he sighed and grumbled; "how was I supposed to know?" 

"Whatever, it's done now," I said, and we all rode back to Clemens Point in silence.

[riley1cannon]

Favorite books of 2017

A Murder is Announced, Agatha Christie; Miss Marple mystery

The Zig Zag Girl, Elly Griffiths; first in the Magic Men mysteries (Brighton, after the war; DI Edgar Stephens & Max Mephisto – if you want to picture, say, Dan Stevens and Matthew Goode, I certainly won’t object – are on the case.)

Wouldn’t It Be Deadly?, D.E. Ireland (Eliza Doolittle has to prove Henry Higgings didn’t murder someone. Yes, I know, and honestly my expectations were set really low for this one, but it was vritually free so what the heck. Turned out to be fun, however, and the main trick was fancasting the characters in my head to provide distance from the musical.)

Ghost Talkers, Mary Robinette Kowal (The Great War, mediums employed – in a scheme dreamed up by Houdini and Cona Doyle – to debrief soldiers who have passed over; a cameo by J.R.R. Tolkein; a tear jerker romance; a murder and other skullduggery to solve; and ghosts.)

Design for Dying, Renee Patrick (Our heroine, Lillian Frost, teams up with not-yet-legendary costume designer Edith Head to solve the murder of a starlet – and Lillian’s former roommate – Ruby Carroll in 1930s Hollywood. Look for cameos by Preston Sturgess, Bob Hope, and Barbara Stanwyck, along with a fun cast of original characters, and a pretty good mystery.

Rules of Murder and Death by the Book, Julianna Deering (Books one and two in the Drew Farthering Golden Age-style mysteries. One head’s up: These are from a Christian book publisher, and matters of faith do pop up. It’s not pervasive or preachy, however, so unless you just absolutely loathe even the tiniest whiff of that, you should be able to enjoy these. Example: There is a romantic subplot going on, and while things are kept chaste and above board, there is plenty of sizzle going on between Drew and Madeline.)

Lost Among the Living, Simone St. James (The author’s farewell to the 1920s, but still featuring a heroine getting to the bottom of a what’s behind a haunting.)

A Fatal Winter, G.M. Malliet (The second Max Tudor mystery, and rather better than the first, although I enjoyed that too, with a couple of reservations. Max is former MI5 agent who left the service after a mission went bad, and found a new calling as vicar Nether Monkslip. His former skill set serves him well when murder comes to his parish. If you love Grantchester, this should go over well. Frankly, Max may prove better company than Sidney does at times.)

Lois Lane: Fallout, Gwenda Bond (While I didn’t love this one as much as hoped, it was still a lot of fun. There is a strong Smallville vibe, and that’s not a bad thing.)

Holding Court, K.C. Held (The other YA title on my list. This one is a mystery, with some romance, some laughs, and twist or two along the way. It’s a stand alone title but could easily be the start of a series.)

Speaking From Among the Bones & The Dead in Their Vaulted Arches, Alan Bradley (Books five and six in the Flavia de Luce series.)

The Invisible Library, Genevieve Cogman (Librarians saving the universe, w/steampunk fanasty elements. Difficult to describe; heap of fun to read.)

Claws for Alarm & Crime and Catnip, T.C. LoTempio (Books two and three in the Nick and Nora cozy series. Nora is a former true crime reporter, now operating a sandwich shop in a fictional SoCal town; Nick is the cat who adopted her after his other human, a private eye, disappeared. If you like cozy mysteries with cats, this is a good series to check out. And in case you don’t know, cozy mysteries with cats is a huge, huge thing.)

Romancing the Duke, Tessa Dare (A romantic frolic with engaging characters, and enough substance to maintain interest. Just when you think it’s going right over the top, it doesn’t. If that make any sense. Steam rating: High.)

Foxglove Summer, Ben Aaronovitch (Wacky paranormal hijinks for Peter Grant in the English countryside. So, you know, par for the course, and enjoyable as the preceding books. Bonus points for this one for giving us some more insights into Nightingale, although the man himself doesn’t appear very often. And when am I going to get around to reading The Hanging Tree? It’s been in my to read stack for ages now...)

Indigo Slam, Robert Crais (Private eye novel featuring L.A. detective Elvis Cole and Joe Pike. This time the guys are hired by some kids to find their father. Since it’s Elvis and Joe, of course things get way more complicated.

Property of a Lady, Sarah Rayne (Another ghost story/mystery, the first in a series featuring Oxford don Michael Flint and antiques dealer Nell West. The story revolves around a creepy old house, and there are some genuine chills as Michael and Nell investigate. Their primary means of investigating involves discovering hidden documents. That begins to strain credulity a bit, but I found I coud put up with it. I will probably read more, to see if something at the end of this one is followed up in a subsequent book, and to discover if we ever actually meet Michael’s cat, Wilberforce.)

Night of the Living Deed, E.J. Copperman (Another cozy, this time with ghosts.)

Borrower of the Night, Elizabeth Peters (The first Vicky Bliss novel, and a fun intro to her and her life. John won’t turn up until the next book but there are other romantic interests. Not to mention mysterious shennanigans in a creep old castle, some shivery moments, and a bit of history along the way.)

A Familiar Tail & By Familiar Means, Delia James (Another cozy cat mystery, this time with a pinch of witchcraft as well.)

Whiskey Beach, Nora Roberts (Suspense, romance, family ties, longer than it needed to be but someone I mind that less with Nora than some other authors. Steam rating: Moderate.)

Garden of Lies, Amanda Quick (One of the things I love about AQ books is that along with the romance, we usually get a murder mystery to solve, often with paranormal elements. Another thing is, that although she has some Regencies in her backlist, she’s staked out the Victorian Era as her primary time period. Nothing against Regencies but this reader does sometimes need a break from the ton and all that. Now AQ appears to be moving into the 20th century, which this reader also applauds. Bring on the Jazz Age, baby! Anyway, I liked this one and only wish it was the start of a series of Ursula and Slater mystery romances. Oh well… Steam rating: Moderate.)

Agatha Christie: They Came to Bagdhad; A Pocketful of Rye, The Mirror Crack’d from Side to Side, Murder with Mirrors, 4:50 from Paddington (The first is one of her non-series novels, a fun thriller that kept me on the edge of my seat, and also made me wish Dame Agatha had turned her hand to spy thrillers more. The rest are Miss Marple mysteries.)

Mary Stewart: This Rough Magic & Madam, Will You Talk? (This Rough Magic was a reread, and one that held up quite nicely. Young actress on holiday on Corfu, intrigue, romance, gorgeous scenery, and a charming dolphin. Madam, Will You Talk? is her first novel, but just as polished as the later ones. Young, war widowed teacher on holiday in France, brooding hero with dark past, gorgeous scenery, and even car chases. Why there aren’t a series of movies based on these books mystifies me.)

Those were the print books. Here are the ebooks that made a good impression:

Little Clock House on the Green, Eve Devon (Contemporary romantic comedy set in a quirky English village. My only complaint with this one is that certain reveals, re: the heroine’s motivations, took too long to come to light. It wasn’t a huge problem for me, though. The characters were good company. Steam level: practically Hallmark Channel.)

Murder at the Brightwell, Ashley Weaver (First book is the Amory Ames mystery, an homage to the Golden Age, and this one isn’t bonkers. Amory is at the Brightwell, a resort hotel, to help out an old friend--and one-time romantic partner--as well as evaluate the state of her marriage to husband Milo. And then of course there’s a murder. I went into this one expecting one thing to happen, re: Amory and the men in her life, and wound up rather nicely surprised at developments. The mystery was good too.

The Yankee Club, Michael Murphy (Another historical mystery. This time we’re in 1930s New York, with a private eye-turned-mystery writer back in town and getting involved in the murder of his former partner, reunited with his former girlfriend, now a Broadway star, and winding up hip deep in a conspiracy that threatens the very foundations of America. There’s some actual history to back that up, however, and it doesn’t play as over the top as it may sound. Like Design for Dying above, there are cameos by real life celebrities of the time like Cole Porter.)

Bed, Breakfast & Bones, Carolyn L. Dean (Young woman in need of a change moves to a small town on the West Coast, decided to revive the bed & breakfast, finds a body--the usual cozy formula. It’s played well here and I wouldn’t mind reading more books in the series.)

Southern Spirits, Angie Fox (This time our cozy heroine is struggling to keep her ancestral home, while she gets involved in a mystery and is assisted by both the local hunky sheriff and a ghost. I went in expecting nothing, and in fact anticipating to wind up deleting it, and wound up pleasantly surprised. An instance of: don’t judge a book by its cover.)

The Undateable, Sarah Title (Contemporary romantic comedy. A librarian finds herself part a meme that goes viral. This leads to a makeover and a quest to prove she is not the most undateable woman in San Francisco, and it is really way better than I’m making it sound. Promise. Steam level: practically Hallmark Channel.

Act Like It, Lucy Parker (Contemporary romantic comedy, set agains the background of the British theater world, and employing the fake dating trope. I loved it. Steam level: also moderate.)

Marriage is Murder, Emma Jameson (Historical mystery once more. England just before the War, and our doctor hero is sent to a small town in Cornwall, the same town his wife left behind her, and where secrets abound. They no sooner arrive than the wife is killed in a hit-and-run, and the husband left badly injured. Horrible accident or was it murder?)

There were other books–58, total–and many not listed here had their merits, but this batch were the ones that were the page turners, the don’t want to put it down and go to bed ones, the can’t wait to get back to it ones.

There were several books started and not finished; there were others started and put back the shelf to try another time. The latter, I think, is the better option. They may win me yet.

I have no reading agenda for 2018. Just more books, good books, and if I’m lucky one or two that surprise me by being so much better than they looked going in. Love when that happens.