Sundance climbed onto my lap. He’s excited about the wedding, too, I’m sure.

* * *

Later that night, after I knocked over not one but two stacks of books in my kitchen nook, I thought of Marco, in a tux, waiting for me by the gazebo, as I walked down the aisle in a wedding dress.

That would never happen.

Oh, heart, calm down. Stop breaking. Eat pie.

Chapter 4

“This mermaid didn’t have a green tail, like all the other mermaids.”

“She didn’t?”

“No. Her tail was the color of all the flowers in your mother’s garden.”

“Purple?”

“Yes.”

“Yellow and gold?”

“Yes.”

“Did she have the colors of roses in her tail?”

“Pink, red, and white.”

“Why was she different?”

“Because she was special. She was a special mermaid with black hair and gold eyes.”

“But I have black hair and gold eyes!”

“She looked a lot like you, only you don’t have a mermaid tail, do you?”

“No. You’re silly.”

“I’m going to tell you the story of the mermaid. Her name was Serafina.”

“Does she swim in our ocean?”

“She does.”

“Where does she live?”

“In her castle, right out there, past our beach. Her garden is made of coral and seashells.”

“Can I see her?”

“You can in your imagination.”

Chapter 5

“What do you mean you’ve never read historical fiction?” I stared at the woman in my bookstore in wonder. “Never?”

She blinked a few times at me in confusion. “Uh. No. Never.”

“What do you read?”

“I read romance.”

“And what else?” I asked. “What other genres?”

“That’s it.”

She was about fifty years old. I was darn near stunned. “You have to be kidding. All you read is romance?” Now, I don’t have anything against romance. I read a few romances a year. They take you out of life and you’re safe in the book: You know everything’s going to work out for this couple in the end. No surprises. But what about variety?

“Well. Uh. Yes.”

She seemed a bit alarmed by my strong reaction. She should be! This was ridiculous! “I’m sorry, but I am not going to let you leave this store until you find a historical fiction book to read. Here.” I pulled out one book, then another, then another. “There’s three books. These are all my favorites. Go to that table right there by the window and try them out. Pick one.” I looked at her sadly and shook my head. “You need to read something new. You can’t read one type of book all of the time, or your brain will drip out of your head and congeal on the floor. Do you want your brain to congeal?”

“Yuck. No. Not today.” She obediently took the books and read the backs, one by one. “I haven’t read anything like this since school.”

“Then it’s time you darn well did.” I crossed my arms and glared at her. “You have to read in different genres. You have to keep learning and thinking and learning and thinking. How do you do that if you read in the same genre all the time? You can’t. It’s impossible.”