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"Do you take credit cards?"

"We do."

Alec slid a card across the counter to him. "Here. Use this, but add a bottle of whatever booze Tyler likes to it. Give it to him for me, next time he's in here."

Buddy grinned. "Yes, sir. He'll like that."

"Good."

Marge returned with the groceries. "There's not a lot of fresh produce this time of year I'm

afraid. But I have some frozen options in there."

"I'm sure everything will be fine. You've both been very kind."

Buddy returned his card. "You know… You can't just stay up there writing all the time. You

should take a break, maybe join us at the tavern. Today's Tuesday. Talent night."

"Oh, I don't know," Alec said… immediately pondering whether Tyler would be there. "I need to focus on the book and all."

"Suit yourself. But if you get antsy, it's Bear Tavern at the end of the street. You passed it on your way in. Winter's are light. It's nice to see new faces."

"And Tyler will be there," Marge added.

"Bear Tavern?" Alec asked, sensing Demarco's lascivious leer despite the distance. "I've been to a few of those."

"Beg your pardon?"

"Nothing. I'll keep it in mind. Thank you both for everything. I'm sure I'll be seeing you again.

Soon."

"Hope so."

10

Alec stared at the flashing cursor on his blank computer screen as it pulsed, taunting him. Aside

from having been awakened by that horrible creature in the tree, he'd had a pretty good day. He had learned how to drive a snowmobile and had made it through the wilderness—

Somehow I made it through.

—and down the mountain to Melody's only store. He'd bought the things he needed to spend a

quiet few days doing nothing at all but writing his book, hismagnum opuson music… and what it meant to him… and its impact on our daily lives.

Really? That's what the book is going to be about? You may need to rethink this.

Why hadn't he picked up a bottle of wine when he was at the store? Sometimes, when he was

blocked writing his column,Tales of the Circle, a glass of wine was the perfect resolution to mute the ramblings of the left half of his brain and open his muse on the right.

Or is that the other way around?

Of course, sometimes one glass of wine turned into a bottle and he got nothing done at all. That,

was why he had forgone the purchase when he'd had the opportunity. Common sense had told him that