Just a little idea that popped into my head. I've been getting a lot of fic ideas lately, it's nuts. Enjoy!
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It had been a week since Mary's new novel had gone on the market, and the limited success was disappointing. She had been wanting to write the novel for a while, and was, despite her typical modesty, fairly proud of how it came out, but it just wasn't selling as well as her previous books. Even with her husband Gray's encouragement, she couldn't help but be brought down by it. Not due to lack of sales - no, money mattered very little to Mary when it came to her books. As her personal favorite book of her own making, she wanted a lot of people to read it and enjoy it, but the reviews were mixed and the fanmail absent, unlike her last book. That novel had been more romance-oriented and popular with the housewives of Mineral Town, and the fanmail from readers poured in within the first few days of it arriving in stores as young girls lamented how they could relate to the story perfectly.
But apparently the same demographic wasn't so big on murder mystery books. She sighed as she lamented this, tapping her fingers on the library table boredly, business slow as per usual. Her visits from her husband were becoming less frequent as he became more professional with his work, and she had banned the Harvest Sprites from entering the library ever since they went slightly mad over the harlequin romances in the corner and knocked over all the book displays. Jack came to visit every once in a while, but she heard he was planning on moving away to Forget-Me-Not Valley soon. She wondered if they had a library there...
The ringing of a bell signifying someone had entered shook her out of her thoughts, and she raised an eyebrow as she saw an unusual customer enter. Popuri was hovering near the door, looking around curiously, her bright hair and bright dress very out of place in a small library composed of predominantly neutral tones. "Ah... welcome. Can I help you?" Mary said, folding her hands in her lap and beaming a cautious smile, afraid Popuri was going to knock something over.
"It's you, it's really you!" Popuri exclaimed, suddenly turning to her with a look of glee on her face. She had her hands behind her back, and seemed to be clutching something, though Mary couldn't see what exactly it was. "You wrote that novel, Midnight Beauty!" Popuri brought her hands to her front, holding up a hardcover copy of Mary's newest novel, and Mary's eyes widened. Popuri had read her book and enjoyed it? The bubbly young girl had always struck her as the kind to go for soppy romance stories, not mysteries. Maybe appearance isn't everything... She thought, and couldn't help but smile.
"Yes, I did. Did you like it?" Mary asked timidly, reaching up a hand to adjust her glasses.
"I loved it! It's my favorite book! I especially like the part where she finds out that guy is the real murderer!" Popuri was literally bouncing up and down now. "And I was wondering... could you..." She paused, looking nervous. "Could you sign this?" She placed the book on the library table and Mary stared at it for a second in disbelief.
"Y-yes... yes, of course." She said after a second, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice. It was the first time she'd ever been asked to sign a book, and it was satisfying to know someone liked her book enough to come ask to get it signed. She reached into a drawer and pulled out a simple blue pen to write a brief message. "To Popuri... thanks for reading." She muttered under her breath as she wrote these words in a simple but elegant cursive, adding her signature to the end. "There you go." She said, handing the book back to the young woman. Popuri looked simply ecstatic.
"Thank you soooo much!" Popuri squealed, hugging the book to her chest and twirling around briefly. "I'm going to go tell Kai about this! He loves the book too. I can't wait for the next one!" She went to open the door and leave, but had difficulty getting through the doorway as a crowd of people entered, all carrying copies of Mary's new book.
A few hours later, after she had signed copies for a good half of the town's villagers (and some from the nearby valley), Mary was feeling exhausted but quite a bit more satisfied with her book. As it turned out, the shipment of the novel to the local supermarket (Jeff had enjoyed her previous books so much that he agreed to sell some of them) had been delayed until a day or two ago. She had also deduced that, contrary to her earlier musings, the town and the neighboring valley were very, very fond of murder mysteries. Maybe I should write another. Mary thought to herself, stepping out of the library and locking the door, pausing to turn and watch the setting sun.
She smiled to herself, pocketing the keys to the library. No, I don't think I'm ready for another book signing.
