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But then there was the real reason. I came here because a long time ago I used to spend all my spare time imagining what it was like to live in the forests of Appalachia. It was so foreign to me (which should have been a huge sign that this wasn't the most brilliant idea) and gave me all the same magical goosebumps that other people got from things like Harry Potter or Star Wars.

"Do you mind if I ask how you found us?" The first lady—I think her name was Mack—asked. "We're working on our marketing."

"Oh, I uh, well, I was looking in this general area because of a book series I read growing up. I know that's weird. But anyway, I put in search terms for private cabins with big decks and bathtubs and you were the first result. Great job on the website, by the way. I was hooked from the photos and descriptions."

Mack beamed. "Well, the cabin you selected is amazing and checks all those boxes. I hope you love it."

"You should come to book club," the other woman said as she peered at me over her computer monitor.

It made my heart stop in a very different way from earlier at lunch when I realized Jackson was attracted to me. "Excuse me?" I managed to chirp out. My skin began to crawl and a buzz started through my brain. The first signs of another panic attack.

But then she explained. "You're here all summer and there's only so much to do. We have a book club in town. I thought if it was a book that brought you here you might enjoy it."

Mack wrinkled her nose. "It's a murder book club, though. They only read murder books. Just murder."

The other woman stood up. "They started the second book club. The one for non-murder books."

"We've had one meeting, Joanne. How many book clubs do you really think this town can sustain?"

Joanne shrugged. "That's why I'm recruiting more people."

I couldn't just hide away in my cabin for months. The plan was to fully explore this town and a couple other places nearby. I wanted to do all the excursions and see all the things that the characters in those books saw. Maybe a nice book club where no one knew me would help revive those creative juices. "When do they meet?"

Joanne grinned from ear-to-ear. "Non-murder book club meets the last Wednesday of the month at the TBR Pile."

"TBR Pile?"

"It's our bookstore," Mack explained. "TBR means To Be Read. We're really into acronyms around here."

It was adorable and relieving to have someone explain tomewhat a TBR pile was. Even more adorable that this town had a bookstore with that name.

"But the murder book club meets the second Tuesday of the month at our one and only bar, the Still Standing Saloon. To be clear, theyonlyread murder books. And sometimes discuss murder shows, podcasts, and documentaries."

That was a lot of murder. "Should I be worried?"

"About their obsession with murder? No. They just find it fascinating." Mack jingled her car keys. "Ready to see your home for the summer?"

My stomach flipped again. This was what I wanted, I just had to be brave enough to follow through. "It's safe?"

"Absolutely. Come on."

I followed Mack a mile or so down the road to a turn-off. We passed a meadow that was quickly turning green for the spring, crossed a small creek, and there it was. A path approximately two cars wide going straight up.

Mack stuck her hand out the window, signaling me to switch to four-wheel-drive. I turned the knob, took a deep breath, gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white, and followed.

Up, up, up. Then around a bend, up some more, around another bend, and then finally onto a flat drive that led straight to the cabin. My cabin. It sat perched on the mountain with a wide deck jutting out over the slope below. The pictures of the outdoor fireplace and the couch in front of it called to me from my computer screen. After clicking through all the other pictures I knew I'd found the perfect place to get my shit together. The logs, the tin roof, even the windows were like a postcard from another land and now I'd somehow stepped inside of it.

I parked in front of the main door and slowly unpeeled my fingers. My heart still whooshed in my ears and I was pretty sure my knees were jelly again, but I did it.

I was here in one piece and only a little worse for wear.

Mack bounded up the cabin steps, punched in the code, and opened the door, all while I slowly slid out of my truck and down onto the ground.

Again.

At least the air was cool.

"Everything looks good. Your fridge is stocked with everything you asked for and—oh my! Are you okay?" She bounded right back down the stairs when she saw me.