What the heck am I doing here?

That’s the question I’ve repeatedly asked myself for the past hour.

There’s no need to ask how I got here because I already know that answer—a lifetime of bad decisions. If I wanted, I could blame my lousy mother or, better yet, I could blame the father that ran out on me. But what good does condemning either of them do?

Not much since I’d still be stuck here.

Besides, I’m trying to take a little responsibility for my situation. That’s the only way I can see to turn this whole thing into something sort of positive.

So back to my initial question, which maybe I should clarify further.

What the heck am I doing here—in a bookstore?

That question boggles my mind.

You see, I haven’t been to a bookstore since, well, ever. And the only book I ever bought had the words ‘repair manual’ in its title. I got it at AutoZone.

I don’t think I visited a bookstore as a kid either. Not with my mother, that’s for sure. She’s not a reader. Maybe my grandmother took me once, but more than likely, she just had some of those kiddie books lying around when I visited. I love my grandmother more than anyone in this world. If it weren’t for her, I probably would be in a lot worst predicament than I am.

The store is named The Red Herring. I haven’t given it much thought as to why the previous owner called it such a thing. Perhaps it’s from a famous story. Or maybe the place used to be a fish and chips joint, and they just kept the name.

Right now, there’s no one here except me and a cat. He’s orange and spiteful. I mean, they’re supposed to be graceful, right? Yet, he continually knocks books off the shelves like he’s got a drinking problem. Maybe he’s just clumsy. What do I know? This could be how cats are supposed to act.

There he goes again—another book just hit the floor. I’d yell at the mangy thing, but I don’t know his name. He’s definitely doing this on purpose—I’m sure of it. Maybe if I don’t feed him, he’ll run away and bother some other poor soul. I don’t need this hassle.

The book, the one the tom knocked off a shelf, is The Jugger by Richard Stark. It looks old and used with a dogeared corner. For a moment, I wonder what a jugger is, but I quickly decide I don’t care enough to investigate and shove the book into an open slot. I’m not sure that’s where it’s supposed to go, but I have no idea about most of the books in this joint.

Which really means I should modify my first question.

Why the heck do I now own a mystery bookstore in Pleasant Valley, Maine?

I’ve never operated a business before. Well, at least, a legitimate one, and that’s not something I can openly admit in this town. The residents in this seaside community might have a collective heart attack if they knew about my past.

And a bookstore seems like a ludicrous career choice based upon my reading proclivities. Believe me. It wasn’t my idea. And I know what a proclivity is, by the way. I’ve heard it used in court more than once.

If the business choice had been up to me, I would have picked something cool like a music store or a motorcycle shop. They say beggars can’t be choosers, though. I wasn’t exactly begging, but I didn’t have a whole lot of options, either.

At least, the name they assigned me is cool. I’ll give them credit for that. Brody Steele. It sounds like an action movie star.

Although, an action movie star doesn’t stand aimlessly behind a sales counter in a mystery bookstore.

So, is this what my life is going to be like now? Am I going to forever hide out in a small town where nothing exciting happens?

I want to sigh as the first question sneaks back into my thinking.

What the heck am I doing here?

I don’t belong in this place. This isn’t my world. Somebody made a mistake. Worry and fear creep into my mind, and those are two things I absolutely hate to feel.

To pump myself up, I announce like a crazy person, “I’m tougher than this little town and its mystery bookstore.” No one answers back, of course. The store is empty.

I roll my eyes since I sounded like a moron.

There’s no way I’m ready for the first customer to walk through that door.

A thud comes from one of the aisles.

“Cat!” I yell in frustration. That mangy tom is at it again.

Cozy Up to Death is the first book in the NEW “Cozy Up” mystery series which arrived March 24, 2020.

A man in hiding. A gang of outlaws searching for retribution. This is no time for cupcakes.

Today is Brody Steele’s first day as the new owner of The Red Herring, Pleasant Valley, Maine’s only mystery bookstore. The cute shop has a loyal customer base as well as an ornery cat.

Unfortunately, Brody doesn’t know the first thing about running a legitimate business, he doesn’t want to be in the small town, and he hates cats. On top of all that, he hasn’t read a book since high school.

When a cute woman walks into the store, he thinks his bad luck is about to change. But as she starts asking about the previous owner’s whereabouts, his safe new existence begins to unravel.

For Brody Steele is a man with a secret he must protect at all costs. The U.S. Government has invested a lot to keep it hidden, and his enemies will stop at nothing to expose him.

Does happiness or death await Brody in this charming seaside community?

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Meet the author
Colin Conway is the author of The 509 Crime Stories, a series of novels set in Eastern Washington with revolving lead characters. They are standalone tales and can be read in any order.

He’s also the co-author of Charlie-316, a political/crime thriller that has been described as “riveting and compulsively readable,” “the real deal,” and “the ultimate ride-along.”

Colin served in the U.S. Army and later was an officer of the Spokane Police Department. He’s a commercial real estate broker/investor, owned a laundromat, invested in a bar, and ran a karate school.

He lives with his beautiful life partner, their three wonderful children, and a crazy, codependent Vizsla that rules their world.

Find out more about Colin at his official website: colinconway.com.

All comments are welcomed.