Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 99(@200wpm)___ 79(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 99(@200wpm)___ 79(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
Wait. In. Line.
I’m going to have a freaking stroke.
It hasn’t always been like this. I’ve been living here my whole life, but over the past five years, this town has gone downhill fast.
It all happened when this damn reporter—Veronica Weaver—wrote an article about our town for a popular tourist magazine. It brought so much damn attention to this town, and it brought a lot of investment money too.
All of a sudden, there were hotels and inns going up, and the park was being revitalized, and new restaurants and shops and activities for the tourists kept popping up everywhere like weeds.
This town—Wildpeak Village—is now homebase to three ski hills in the area and a magnet for annoying people who love Christmas.
“Screw this,” I grumble as I leave the line and burst past the lady guarding the door.
“Hey!” she says. “You have to wait in line.”
This is my town. I don’t wait in line.
Inside is so crowded, I get heart palpitations. People are everywhere, grabbing shit off the racks like it’s the end of the world and this is the last supply run, although instead of useful supplies, they’re grabbing scented candles, fancy over-priced chocolates, and sparkly Christmas crap.
I push past everyone and head for the ice-fishing section. Steve always has a good selection of lures and gear. He’s one of the only people I can tolerate in this town.
Meanwhile, my inner grizzly is bouncing around like an over-excited golden retriever, smelling every woman I pass, trying to get a whiff of his ‘one true mate.’
Like I said, he’s a dope.
My heart stops when I arrive at the ice fishing section and see that it’s all cleared out. “What. The. Fuck.”
The Grizzly Gulper Jigs, Northern Howler Poppers, and River Ghost Rattler fishing lures are gone. In their place, I see these weird stuffed monsters staring at me with big eyes and creepy-ass grins.
“What the fuck is this?” I growl as I grab one and yank it off the rack.
“A Labubu,” a young girl says, looking up at me with a smile. “Isn’t it cute?”
“Cute?” I say, staring at her in shock. “Who the hell would want this?”
“I asked for Coco and Sisi,” she says, rambling off strange names like she’s speaking another language. “I already have Zizi and Dada, but I want these other ones so bad.”
Her mom comes, looking a little rattled. “Cindy, let’s go,” she says. “I’ve been waiting for you by the door.”
“Okay, Mom.” She looks up at me with a big smile. “Merry Christmas.”
I just stare at her like there’s no more hope for humanity as she leaves with her flustered mom.
I put whatever-the-fuck-she-called-that-thing back on the rack and head over to the hunting section. All the bullets and guns are cleaned out. Instead, there are fancy table cloths and dinner plates and wine glasses. You’ve got to be kidding me.
“Boone,” Steve says, emerging from the crowd. “You got to wait in line, man. I can’t have you bursting in here like that. It’s not fair to the other customers.”
“Where’s the hunting gear?” I say, ignoring him. “And the fishing lures, and the usual stuff? What is all this crap?”
“Christmas is the biggest shopping season of the year, man,” he says with a shrug. “I gotta give the tourists what they want.”
“What about the locals?”
“It will all be back in January,” he says. “I got it stored in my barn. But listen, Boone, you can’t just barge in here. You have to wait in line like everyone else.”
“Why, so I can buy a freaking Lanewnew?”
“A Labubu,” he corrects. “And those Labubus pay my rent for the year.”
“Whatever,” I say, bumping him with my shoulder as I pass. “I’m out of here.”
My grizzly keeps jumping around all excited and that just pisses me off even more as I storm outside. The lady at the door gives me a nasty look, but I just ignore her.
God, there are so many people on the sidewalk. I just want to scream!
I put my collar up, shove my hands into my pocket and start walking, not looking at anyone. I have to get some canned food, but I’m already dreading going into the grocery store. It’s going to be filled with more idiots.
“Would you like to give a donation to the Fairweather Society?” a lady in a Santa hat asks, sidling up beside me as I storm down the sidewalk.
“No,” I grunt.
I feel my inner grizzly breathing in her scent, hoping she’s the one.
Nope, I tell him with a chuckle. Definitely not her, thank god.
I get to the crowded corner and a lady shoves a flyer into my chest.
“Come to the Christmas tree lighting ceremony tonight,” she says with a big smile.
“The what?” I grunt.
“Everyone is going to be there,” she says getting excited. “It’s going to be a huge party with all the tourists and locals. There will be music and games and good food and at nine o’clock, we’re going to light the Christmas tree for the first time. It will be so festive and fun!”