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Tristan Paulson needs the words to return. He loves his career penning novels of small-town love, but his muse has gone missing. If he can’t write, he can go back to his roots and sort through the items his newly deceased uncle left behind. Once in Sullavan, Ohio, he realizes just how much he loved the place. Then he sees the handsome librarian—Michael is just the kind of guy he’s always wanted. How can he go back to the big city when Sullavan calls to him?
Michael Kane wants nothing more than to be surrounded by his books and the written word. He knows heartbreak and isn’t in the mood to put himself out into the dating pool again…until he sees Tristan. He wants to be with Tristan, but he’s too shy. A handsome man like Tristan wouldn’t be interested in a quiet man like Michael…would he?
Read an Excerpt:
©MeganSlayer 2018, All Rights Reserved
Tristan stilled Michael’s hands—to stop the nervous gesture and to hold Michael’s hand. He understood what Michael wanted out of the pairing. He needed to know he wouldn’t be used and he had good reasons for it. Tristan wouldn’t be in town long and getting involved wasn’t smart. But that didn’t stop him from wondering. Michael was sweet, sexy in a geeky way and everything Tristan didn’t look for in a man.
He scanned the menu and decided on his lunch, then focused on Michael again. “Why’d you come to Sullavan? What was the draw?”
“A job.” Michael sat back in his seat, but didn’t pull away from Tristan. “I was fresh out of college and needed a source of income to pay back my student loans. I applied at over two dozen libraries. Sullavan was the only one to call me back and that was through the parent Black River Library system. They seemed to like me and I got the job. Thirteen years later and I’m still here. I made learning about Sullavan my personal goal because I thought it was important. If someone comes to town, then they’ll start here. We have people come back often for genealogical searches.”
“Neat.” He rubbed the top of Michael’s hand. “I can’t say I’m that important. I’m not vital to much.”
“I’m sure you are. Al thought a lot of you. He spoke about you once or twice.”
“He did?” He hadn’t thought about his uncle much in the last year. “So, you know me?”
“I know of you. He said he had a nephew who wrote books and was in New York. I assumed the state and that you did what he claimed, but I never asked your name.” Michael shrugged. “Al was quiet, but he’d speak to me. I think he felt lonely and coming to the library was a comfort.”
The more Michael spoke, the more Tristan saw his uncle in a different light. He’d barely thought about the man, but knowing Al had been proud of him enough to mention him… That was big. “Then what do you do? Write books?” Michael’s eyes flashed. “Anything good? I heard you say something to Dicey about being an author. We’re always looking for anyone who’s written a book and is willing to impart information to the writers’ group. They can use the guidance. I’m no help. I have no desire to pen anything but the daily logs.”
He’d have to tell his story. He owed Michael that much. But he wanted to keep his secret a little while longer.
About the Author:
When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. Find out more about Megan and Wendi at: http://wendizwaduk.com/indexMegan.htm
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