The Proust Effect
*Doot doot doo do*
“Ugh,” came out muffled from under a white and pink blanket.
*Doot doot doo do*
“Stop!” the muffled voice said. But the chiming didn’t stop and the blanket flew off in a swift motion of the arm. Wren Alden sat up in a little bed, in the attic of the renamed Leona’s Yellow Bird Bed and Breakfast. Felix Thurman, one of the most successful Authors and Wren’s mentor had bought it, selling all he owned in the U.S. and naming it in honor of his late wife. The former owner and murderer Darcia Blackwood was in prison for murdering her sister Lucia. Lucia was resting in peace; ashes scattered at the shipwreck that had brought her and so many others to the island. Carmine, Wren’s partner in literal crime thanks to a break in, was off traveling the world researching for his next book. Or that was what he was supposed to be doing, but instead he was calling Wren in the middle of the night. For the fourth time this month.
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