Flora Reinhold fingered through the pages. She paused for a moment, looked at the cover again, and nope.

Browsing through the murder-mystery novel section of the library was Flora's favorite thing to do lately. Being quite an avid reader, and there being no libraries in her former hometown of St. Mystere, now was just the perfect time to catch up on some good reads. She put the book back on the shelf with tender care, and decided to give up.

Besides, in her arms were none other than 17 actually interesting books.

Before waltzing over to check them out, she decided to actually sit down and start reading one of the books in her selection. Plus, there was a cozy little chair in the library corner. She had time.

Plopping down in her cushiony seat and flicking on the glossy (yet dusty) lamp beside it, Flora was faced with the task which was always ever-so-hard to her: choosing which book in her library haul to read first.

"Gosh." It was overwhelming.

Eventually it came down to two books: a lengthy mystery that had a very aesthetically pleasing cover, or a book that had been recommended to her several times. Flora held one in each hand, staring at them both for a long time as if it would help. The both looked relatively good. But then again, the first one seemed to have a bunch of gushy romance stuff in it.

She decided to go with it. It was still a murder-mystery.

Flora leaned back and began reading. It was an averagely good story, at least in the beginning. There was a creepy rich guy who only lived with his butler and his cook, who was pretty much a nutcase. Her name was apparently Eliza. Of course, she died first thing in the story. Then along came this hot detective guy, and apparently Eliza was his former girlfriend? And the count kept warning the detective that he "better be careful because the creepy wardrobe upstairs has something to do with the killing"? And he doesn't believe him? And then-

"This is the worst murder-mystery I've ever read!" Flora slammed the book closed and glared at nothing.

"Men in fiction these days, right?" a voice came from behind her.

It was Maya, the librarian. "Oh, hi."

"Quite the stack of books you have there," Maya grinned. "Mystery fan, huh?"

Flora nodded. "Lemme guess, you don't like this book either."

"True," Maya agreed, tipping her reading glasses. "I do hate it when the lead is a stereotypical male character like that. And the only gal in the book gets killed off in the first chapter,"

Flora smiled brightly and pointed to her hoard of other books piled near the footrest. "Have you read any of these other works?"

"All of them!" Maya said. "My personal favorite is this one," She said, lifting a book off the top of the pile. It was the book Flora had been considering earlier. "I guarantee you won't be getting any corny stuff, like in the book you have in your hands." Maya tilted her head a little, her ponytail bobbing.

"Great! Thank you, ma'am," Flora blushed. She reached for the book in Maya's hands so she could start reading.

Maya instantly yanked it away. "Hon?"

"Hmm?" Flora snapped out of her bookwormy state, suddenly confused.

"Before you get stuck in another book," Maya laughed, "The reason I came over here was to tell you the the library's been closed for ten minutes,"

"Oh!" Flora stood up and collected her books. "I'm so sorry, ma'am. I space out when I read. Would you mind checking these out for me?"
"No need," Maya shook her head, ponytail bouncing with her every move. "Be my guest, hon."

"Thank you so much!" Flora began walked toward the door.

"Anytime!" Maya smiled. "Have a nice day!"