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The Naughty Librarian
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The Naughty Librarian
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The Naughty Librarian
Ebook293 pages4 hours

The Naughty Librarian

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About this ebook

There’s nothing much out of the ordinary about Rowdy and Libby; he’s a mystery writer, she’s a librarian. They make a lovely couple. Except on weekends. That’s when Libby trades in her library card and becomes a call girl while Rowdy abandons his computer and secretly stalks her, hoping to discover what she won’t tell him.

Rowdy would be more open about his quest, but he has his own problem. He’s mostly dead. In order to drive up his slumping book sales, Libby suggested Rowdy fake his own death; sort of a posthumous pump-and-dump. So Rowdy did a faux one-and-a-half gainer off the Uptown Bridge and created a new identity for himself. And his books flew off the shelves. Unfortunately being dead made it rather difficult to collect the royalties from his increased book sales; leaving the semi-dead Rowdy in financial limbo.

If things weren’t bad enough, somebody sticks a knife in Rowdy’s publisher, the man holding the untouchable royalties, and Rowdy and Libby each suspect the other of doing the deed. Soon the pair are scrambling to stay one step ahead of the cops while trying to hide their secrets from each other; secrets that could either break up their relationship, prove their innocence, or put one or both of them in jail. All depending on how and when the secrets are revealed. The couples’ only way out; come up with a story that matches all the evidence but only some of the truth.

Then all Rowdy has to do is sit down with the detectives and tell them the whole convoluted story; from beginning to end. And convince them it’s all true.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherDave Gehrke
Release dateJun 21, 2014
ISBN9781310079023
Unavailable
The Naughty Librarian
Author

Dave Gehrke

I grew up reading comic books in my uncle’s toy and hobby store. I didn’t know how to read at first so I contented myself staring at the drawings while trying to figure out what the words meant. I believe the first word I learned was “Pow!”. “The” wasn’t far behind. Then my uncle started sending me home with a comic, often, purportedly so my parents could read them to me, but also because he grew tired of me being in the way of paying customers.I learned two things from that experience; how to manipulate my uncle, which came in handy as I grew older, and how to read at an early age, which served me well my entire life.Reading opened up a whole new world for me; a world of knowledge, entertainment and imagination, and that world lay just across the alley from me at the Dyckman Free Library. By the time I reached the second grade my family had named me “Professor”. By the eighth grade I’d demonstrated to Mrs. Dombrowski, the librarian, that had I not only graduated from the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew section, I was well on my way through the adult fiction section and could pass a comprehension quiz on any book I’d already managed to smuggle out of the adult section when she hadn’t been looking.In high school my standard answer to a question from any teacher wondering how I happened to know something esoteric or arcane was “I read that somewhere.” Which also brought a standard groan from my classmates.Writing is a natural evolution from prolific reading. And when I discovered I could wow both my classmates and instructors with my completed writing assignments, I decided at age sixteen that I would someday become a writer of books.Then life got in the way; graduation, marriage, kids, college (I’ve earned three degrees), various business pursuits, various stints at journalism, teaching, coaching, school administration and half a dozen hobbies. But I never forgot about becoming a novelist. So I studied people (future characters); their mannerisms, how they spoke, the way they conversed, what motivated them, how they reacted in various situations, how they expressed their hopes and their dreams, the way one wrinkled her nose when she laughed, the way another tended to begin the answer to any question with “basically”.And I gathered reams of notes; character descriptions, possible storylines, potential plots, locations, time periods, etc. And I continued to read, sometimes for entertainment, sometimes to study the different techniques used by my favorite authors in crafting their books.Then, when the drawers holding my writing notes were overflowing, when my kids were off having kids of their own and I retired to my own semi-isolated place in the countryside, I did what I’d always been meant to do; I started writing books.Life, as they say, goes full circle.Some circles just have larger diameters.

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