Morning Glory Circle by Pamela Grandstaff Read Free Book Online

cover of the offending article seemed to indicate a “pirate and convent girl” romance theme.
    “‘Mamie Rodefeffer’ is a pretty unusual name,” observed Maggie quietly, as she rang up the paperback bodice-ripper.
    Mamie, who had excellent hearing, waved her off in dismissal.
    “I was christened Mary Margaret, which is a perfectly normal name, the same as yours and half the women in this town, it seems like. Mamie’s what my father called me.”
    Maggie liked to tell her staff members that “Mamie” was short for “cockamamie.” She smiled as she thought it but didn’t say it.
    “I hope it’s not too boring,” Mamie said, gesturing to the book. “I like lots of action.”
    Maggie turned the book over and read aloud from the description on the back cover.
    “‘Although determined not to be ensnared by Trinity’s smoldering green eyes, riotous golden curls, and long, silken limbs, nevertheless Captain Dominic Cordoba longed to probe the full depths of her wanton womanhood. In many ways still an innocent child, Trinity found this reckless pirate’s rough embrace awakened ravenous carnal desires hidden deep within her. The ecstatic joining of their savage passions threatened to drown them both in a whirlpool of liquid fire.’ Sounds pretty steamy to me, Mamie.”
    “We’ll see,” Mamie said. “That last one I bought kept skipping over the juicy parts.”
    Mamie finally seemed to notice the dog Maggie was holding. 
    “What have you got there, Mary Margaret, some sort of baby possum?”
    “It’s a dog. I’m watching him for Hannah while she runs an errand.”
    The little dog gave Mamie a dirty look, one long fang still visible.
    “Hannah Fitzpatrick!” Mamie snorted. “If she tries to pawn one of those mangy mutts off on me I’ll tie a rock to it and throw it in the river.”
    “Her name’s been Hannah Campbell for ten years now and I doubt she’ll ask you,” Maggie said.
    She handed the paperback and a receipt to Mamie, who thrust them down into one of the many ancient tote bags she carried everywhere she went.
    “You fell for that one!” Mamie declared, pointing a knobby, blue-veined finger at the dog. “That little possum is yours for life!”
    Maggie regarded the little dog and thought that maybe “Possum” would be a good name for it, if she kept it, which she probably wouldn’t.
    Mamie patted her coat pockets to make sure she had her coin purse, house keys, and canister of pepper spray before taking up the ornately carved cane that was leaning against the counter and making her weaving, lurching way out of the bookstore. She knocked over a cardboard display of paperbacks with one of her swinging tote bags, and almost knocked over a customer who was entering the store.
    “Your stock is getting old!” Mamie yelled back as she went out. “I’ve probably already read this one!”
    The bookstore staff kept a list of what Mamie had read just so she wouldn’t duplicate purchases, and Maggie had consulted it before she rang up the sale. She added the most recent title to the long list and then went back to the romance section to straighten out the mess the older woman always made of it. The bells attached to the front door jangled and Maggie turned to find Scott walking back in with Trick Rodefeffer close behind.
    “Out!” yelled Maggie, and Scott stopped in his tracks, thinking she meant him.
    “Ah Maggie, aren’t you over that yet?” whined Trick, as he stopped just inside the door and looked to the left, where the list of people Maggie had banned from the bookstore was written on the dry erase board of shame.
    “Not yet. Out!”
    Maggie pointed to the door, and Trick sighed heavily before he slouched back out.
    “What did he do?” Scott asked Mitchell, the pierced, tattooed, and dreadlocked young man who was working behind the coffee bar.
    “Oh man, you should have seen it,” Mitchell said in a quiet voice, as he prepared Scott’s usual order of cappuccino and a