A Small Town Story

"Small towns sometimes have interesting stories. I'm setting my romantic history novel in Bradford," I said, "using the collection of local histories for research."

We were enjoying coffee just up Main Street from where Elizabeth was the librarian.

"Anything juicy about Bradford?" she asked with a grin.

Surprising, as she appeared reserved, her tortoise shell glasses fitting for a librarian. Now with a little upturn to her lips...

I'd asked several times before she accepted. From that first time on, our coffee breaks came frequently; talking about books and writing, and sharing smiles.

One Tuesday, as I approached the libraries counter, I heard Elizabeth on the phone in the back office. "I know I should tell him, but..."

I missed the rest.

Later, as I looked into the coffee shop, Elizabeth was laughing over a book with a well-dressed man. Clothes too good for Bradford.

I let a day pass, then a second, before meeting her at the coffee shop.

"I saw you on Tuesday enjoying a book with someone from out-of-town," I started. "Anything to tell me?"

"Well..., yes," Elizabeth said, retrieving a book from her carrying bag, placing it on the table.

A steamy cover; a woman slipping off a negligee, looking up at a half dressed man bending over the side of her bed. A big city could be seen through the window beyond her.

Written by a successful romance author. Not Elizabeth by name, but the picture on the back was her, right down to the upturn to her lips, minus the tortoise shell glasses.

"I place my stories in the city. What goes on there isn't that different from small towns. The man you saw is my publisher. He'd like to meet you."

That's how we ended up with two successful writers in one family.