Off the Shelves: Men of Magic, #3

By Hollis Shiloh

A librarian is called in to investigate the mystery of books flying off a mansion's shelves — literally. Instead of answers, he finds himself falling for the mansion's oddly handsome owner.

Jason isn't particularly magical — he works in the library — but he's the one who ends up being sent to investigate, all on his own. What sounds like a difficult chore at first becomes a lot more enjoyable after he meets Tobias, mysterious and quirky, but very sensual, too...

The two men might not find the answers they thought they were looking for, but they find one another.

A Men of Magic story
Medium heat
17,400 words

• Language: English
• Publisher: Spare Words Press
• Release date: Jan 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386515425

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Off the Shelves (Men of Magic, #3)

Off the Shelves

Story copyright January 2018 by Hollis Shiloh.  -  All rights reserved.  Do not reproduce without written permission from the author.  All characters and events are fictitious, and any similarity to real people or events is coincidental.  -  Cover image content is being used for illustrative purposes only and any people depicted in the content are models.  -  Proofreading by Carol Davis (http://caroldavisauthor.com/a-better-look-editing-services/).

ORIGINALLY A PATREON reward: www.patreon.com/hollisshiloh

About the story:

A LIBRARIAN IS CALLED in to investigate the mystery of books flying off a mansion's shelves — literally.  Instead of answers, he finds himself falling for the mansion's oddly handsome owner.

Jason isn't particularly magical — he works in the library — but he's the one who ends up being sent to investigate, all on his own.  What sounds like a difficult chore at first becomes a lot more enjoyable after he meets Tobias, mysterious and quirky, but very sensual, too...

The two men might not find the answers they thought they were looking for, but they find one another.

A Men of Magic story

Medium heat

17,400 words

Off the Shelves

by Hollis Shiloh

It was bound to be an interesting investigation, which was why I was surprised I was going to be allowed anywhere near it.

At first, I was simply to accompany another magician (Colin Conley, to be precise), as the not-particularly-skilled-with-magic book expert.

It's not as though I had no magic at all; I had a bit, and could do more when there were powerful sources around to enhance my own slight abilities.  But that would not normally be nearly enough to consider sending me out on my own on a case.  Clearly, I belonged in the library, and would be little use in the field.  While I didn't much like being looked down on for my lack of power and skill in the field, it was clearly true that my best efforts elsewhere were a waste compared to managing books and research.

But that's what this case was about: books.  It concerned a library tucked away in an old mansion in the sleepy countryside; there were plenty of books there, and of course the magical ministry's library is always mad to add new books. (I must confess I have quite the avaricious streak there myself.)  However, the issue here was not acquisition but investigation. 

Apparently, books had been escaping from a library, flapping around at night, occasionally even escaping out of the house and into the great outdoors, only to collapse with broken spines as soon as dawn's light hit them.  It was certainly intriguing, and certainly magical.  We had been invited down to investigate by the current owner of the house.

I'd pulled research on the county and faithfully went through records related to the house, all in an effort to make the job easier for Conley.  I would be more tagging along than anything, as I hadn't enough magic to do anything practical about it.

Then, at the last moment, Conley was pulled to a bigger job by our boss, and, instead of doing the decent thing and postponing the library visit, he sent me along right on schedule, alone.

It was no good protesting that I hadn't the skill to deal with anything I found, assuming I could even discover anything on my own.  I was to go; I was to report back; I was to handle it alone.

And so, grumbling, I set about getting my work in order at the library so I could leave, abandon the books for a few days, and take on a task for which I was not suited.

My magical battery for the trip was a small porcelain egg, painted rather sloppily with lackadaisical flowers.  They looked to be someone's idea of what a flower should look like, rather than anything strictly conforming with botanical reality.  It had been created nearly a century ago but was not a valuable antique. 

At some point, it had held some sort of glamour magic as part of a lady's cosmetics kit.  I believe one was to sleep with it by the pillow for a youthful glow.  Who's to say whether it worked or not?  Certainly not me; magic can be strange stuff, and things you would think it couldn't possibly affect end up being quite real, whereas perfectly reasonable things one would think it could do end up being far too difficult for anyone you've ever met.

I've had quite a few interesting discussions of magic with others like myself, who have a bit of it, and some training, but I mostly work round the perimeters of the bigwigs and powerfully endowed magicians. 

I work for the ministry as a librarian, which is, as you may imagine, not heavily reliant on magical skill or application.  When it is, I have access to an artifact such as this, which, after it completed life in the lady's toilette as originally designed, was moved on to other and possibly better things.  Refilled with magic, it became a