Page 2 of The Totally Typical Tale of Mappy McMapface (Ghostlight Falls #1)

Chapter one

Grim's Bakery

Mappy

“ G ood morning, Mabel, you look especially radiant today.” I flash her a smile as I take my spot in the middle of town, posing for all to see.

She mumbles something in response as she unlocks the door to the Visitors’ Bureau.

It’s a little foggy this morning, so the morning dew glistens on my muscles as I flex and move, giving everyone directions.

I catch my reflection in the window. Damn if I don’t look amazing today.

“Mappy!” Tillie rushes toward me, breathing heavily. “Where’s Sheet-y? I’m running so late! ”

Opening my wings to their fullest, I let her examine my body.

“Take a breath, darlin’. You know I always got what you need.

” Confident that the damned store isn’t on my forearms, I place them behind my head to make my pecs look even better.

She scans my body, eyebrows furrowed. “Need to take a closer look? Feel free to touch the topography.” I wink at her.

Her frown turns to a smile when she finds the store, oddly back at its original location. It’s almost never there.

“Thanks, Mappy!” she says, scurrying off. Shoot. I meant to ask her to set aside another notebook for me. No matter how many I buy, I can never find one when I need it. The things are harder to keep track of than Sheet-y's.

After a few hours of work, I decide I’ve earned a lunch break.

It takes a lot of fuel to keep these muscles in peak physical form.

Now, where to go? Checking out my reflection in the window again, I consider my options.

I don’t have time to make it to Ratcliff’s, not that anyone really keeps track of my hours.

I just take my duties as town map very seriously.

There’s Birds of a Feather? I prefer eggs in the morning, and they got really mad the last time I tried to catch a chicken for some reason. Grim’s it is.

Strolling down the street, I whistle to accompany the frogs. I try to harmonize with them, but they keep mixing up their tune, making it hard to follow. I wonder if maps have mating calls like frogs? Too bad there aren’t more of us around to ask.

Swinging open the door to Grim’s, I’m about to say hello when I hear hushed voices.

“I swear, it was him.”

“No one has seen Carter in five years. Are you sure?” My skull throbs at the sound of that name. It’s so familiar, but I can’t remember why. Do I know Carter? The more I think about it, the more my head hurts.

Clearing my throat, I make my presence known. “Grim, can I get the Spadefoot Special? To go?” I need to get out of here and clear my head.

Grim smiles, makes my sandwich, wrapping it in paper and putting it in a bag. “Need anything else, Mappy?”

“Nope, that’s it. Thanks!” I hand over money and practically sprint out the door across the street to the park. It’s not like a six-foot map with wings blends in anywhere, but at least here, no one will pass by me on the street and ask for directions.

Taking a bite of my sandwich, I try to sift through my memories to find a Carter, but my head starts pounding again. Probably best to think about something else then.