Page 5 of Must Love Libraries and Libations (Moonshine Hollow #2)

ERASMUS

I t had been a perfectly pleasant morning. I had made progress on the witch’s codex and had just settled in to repair the tome on lightning when I heard…noise. Laughter. Loud laughter. Talking, joking, cackling, and then…fireworks?

No.

Absolutely no.

I already told Elder Theodonna that we were not having a party.

The audacity of her and that half-elf party planner to come into my library and make all of that noise.

Fireworks? Here? Never. I would not allow it.

The library would not allow it. It was too much, especially when I was so close to finishing the witch’s codex.

It wasn’t just the disruption to me. The witch’s grimoire was temperamental on a good day.

And as I’d neared the end of this last tome, the spells had become slipperier, more dangerous.

Such chaos could be disruptive and potentially dangerous.

So, no.

Never.

Using my gargoyle magic, I had slipped into the shadowed corner of the meeting nook to listen unseen to their conversation.

The half-elf had been so…animated. Her ideas were colorful, loud, and messy.

Her cheeks had blushed red, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Even her breath had quickened, making her ample bosom rise in delighted anticipation.

I cleared my throat, pushing that image away.

There would be no party. Now that I had settled the matter myself, since Izelda seemed unable to say no to the elder and that excessively cheerful woman, I settled in at my workbench once more, with all worries about fireworks set to rest.

I was just about to dampen my quill when the door to my private study opened with a bang.

The noise took me aback.

No one ever opened that door.

It was locked.

Enchanted.

No one could open it but me and the library itself.

But if that were true, what was that half-elf, her cheeks red, a furious expression on her face, doing in my private study? She closed the door angrily behind her.

I couldn’t even remember the last time someone was in here.

Melville, who had been napping in the chair, lifted his head and clicked at me in surprise.

“What are you—” I began in a low voice, but unmoved, the girl cut me off.

“You have no right to speak to Elder Theodonna like that. None,” she told me hotly.

“You can dislike the idea of a party as much as you want, but that is an elder,” she said, pointing behind her where she had left the others.

“She is an appointed steward of this village of which even you are a member. And this library is part of that village.”

“Perhaps, but I am the guardian of this library. I will not have its solemnity intruded upon by clanging music and loud enchantments. Aside from the sheer noise of the event, your plans are disruptive to the bookwyrms, the Wyrmwood tree, and there are books in this library,” I said, glancing over my shoulder at the codex, “that cannot be agitated. No. No food in the library. No music in the library. And for the love of all things, no loud noises.”

To my surprise, Melville huffed at me in annoyance.

I arched a questioning eyebrow at him, then turned back to the half-elf. The matter was settled. Why wasn’t she leaving?

“You will apologize to Elder Theodonna,” she said, her mirth replaced by a surprisingly serious tone.

“I will not apologize for doing my duty. I have been the protector of these books since this place was nothing more than an open-air stall at the side of the road.”

“I didn’t say anything about your duty to the books. That’s an entirely different issue. I was talking about you being rude and boorish toward an elder!”

I winced. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had dared to speak like this to me.

I studied the girl closely. She had fury in her face, her cheeks red, her eyes—were they hazel or merely a shade of green, I wasn’t sure—shimmering with anger.

Her quick, angry breaths once more made her generous breasts rise and fall in a way that made my cock tremble.

The effect took me by surprise, and for a moment, I feared my physical response to her might undermine my authority.

“Get out,” I said, turning from her. “I have work to do.”

“This conversation is not over.”

“It is for now.”

“You will apologize. The library belongs to everyone, Master Erasmus, not just you. And even you owe the elders your respect. If you can’t show even the minimum of courtesy, you aren’t really a part of this community, are you?

In that case, you might as well just sit on the eaves and glower at everyone for all you’re worth. ”

With that, she turned and left the chamber, the door swinging closed of its own volition behind her.

Outside, I heard the half-elf speaking to the others. The librarians who tended the library kept their voices mellowed, but Elder Theodonna and the girl—Miss Windsong, wasn’t it?—did not speak so quietly. I tracked their voices as they headed toward the front of the library and out the front door.

It wasn’t until they were gone that I felt like I could breathe again.

With my hand wrapped around my quill, I closed my eyes and breathed in and out, trying to steady my thumping heart and calm the heat that had pooled in my loins.

My cock had risen to full alert. Even now, Miss Windsong’s scent lingered in the air.

Was that freesia? Freesia and something sweet…

bloomberry bread, perhaps. My remembrance of her supple, curvy body had my blood thundering. My tail twitched with excitement.

What was happening to me?

I had no time for carnal inclinations.

I had important work to do.

And yet, I imagined my forked tongue sliding across the mounds of her breasts, down her belly, my hands gripping her hips as my tongue?—

No. Absolutely, not. I had no right to think of Miss Windsong like that.

I sighed.

She had not been wrong about Elder Theodonna. I had been rude. But this was all too much. Too much loud music, food, and modern festive enchantments.

Just too much.

And everything was so…new.

I looked around the room at the ancient tools laid out on my workbench.

One of my enchanted quills was working on transcribing a runic piece, my old wooden toolbox for mending books sat in the corner, a pot of ink in one corner of my desk, another pot of enchanted untangling ink in another jar—old magic, old tools, old…

Old…me.

Everything around me was from centuries gone by.

I was just like the books themselves.

This party was not just disruptive, it was…it was full of too many new things.

I sat down on the small couch beside Melville’s favorite chair.

The elder bookwyrm heaved a tired sigh. He was pearl-white now.

His once sky-blue color had faded. I remembered when he was young and full of life, one of the wildest of the bookwyrms in the library, always causing mischief. Now, his time was coming to a close.

“We don’t need all that noise here, do we, Melville? We like things the way they are. There is nothing wrong with keeping things the same. Right?”

Melville raised one questioning eyebrow at me.

Bookwyrms did not really speak, but their faces and gestures conveyed their thoughts clearly enough.

I looked at the chest where Witch Eyreaway’s grimoire sat locked under a protective spell. The noise of the party would disrupt more than the bookwyrms. It could prove dangerous. If something rattled the witch’s codex, unlocked some magic I had not yet neutralized…

“Too risky. They can have the party elsewhere,” I said, giving Melville a pat before I went back to my workbench. “And I have work to do. No more distractions.”

I settled in once more and prepared to work, but when I did, I could not help but catch the lingering scent of freesia in the air.

Her.

It was her.

I huffed in annoyance and turned back to my work, trying to silence my imaginings of what it might feel like to embrace Miss Windsong.

This was my duty, taking care of the library.

I was the gargoyle of Moonshine Hollow Library, and I wasn’t about to change my ways or opinions due to the interference of a very enticing half-elf woman any time soon.

Even if my chamber now smelled like something that vaguely smelled of…home.