Exploring the Possibilities: Hairy's Cryptid Cafe, #1

By Jo Carey

What happens when a southern belle moves to Idaho to run the cafe left to her by her uncle, a well-known cryptid hunter. She's cold, she misses her sweet tea, and she quickly finds herself surrounded by a guyumvirate of three amazing eligible men—a lawyer, a fireman, and a cryptid hunter. 

Everly isn't sure she believes in cryptids, but there are definitely secrets in the mountains that her Uncle wanted her to investigate. 

Exploring the Possibilities is the first book in an exciting new romantic adventure. Come on in and meet the staff and customers at Hairy's Cryptid Cafe. 168 pages.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jo Carey
• Release date: Apr 23, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386676164

Jo Carey

Jo Carey grew up in the Midwest but her curiosity and gypsy-spirit has kept her on the move. She's lived in eight US states and spent three years living in Ireland. She has always loved creature movies, so creatures and bugs often show up in her books. Jo, a former information security compliance guru, writes fast-paced, character-driven stories in a variety of genres from medical thrillers to space operas and cozy mysteries. Her novels are filled with humor, romance, and sometimes creatures or aliens, or maybe even all of the above. She often builds her stories around a strong female lead character surrounded by plenty of hunky male heroes. Jo's been under fire on a golf course and climbed out the roof of an elevator in the Netherlands. Life hasn't been boring. Now residing in Texas, setting often plays a huge role in her stories. Jo was intrigued by the League of Planetary Systems, a world her husband, Frank, created for his science fiction books, and she now writes mysteries and other types of tales sets in that world. Jo was bitten by a cat, a fire ant, and a snake, before succumbing to the bite of the writing bug.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

So, are you going to leave me all your twinsets? Krista asked, sliding into the chair across from me in the Magnolia Tea Room. She was currently wearing the uniform of the southern woman—a twinset consisting of a sleeveless shell and matching cardigan, in a lovely periwinkle color.

Do you honestly need more of them? I asked.

A southern woman can never have enough twinsets, pearls, or men, Krista said. How'd she take it?

Don't know. I haven't really told her yet. Well, I did tell her, but she thought I was joking. My mom was in denial about my upcoming move.

Well, she didn't lock you in your room. That's something, Krista said. Are you sure about this, Em? It's a drastic change?

I'm in need of a drastic change. I took a sip of my sweet tea. I'll miss you and everything here. I waved my hand to encompass the tea room. This has been my home for thirty-years, but I need a clean start where there aren't so many expectations. I think Uncle Harry leaving me the cafe was a sign that this is what I'm supposed to do.

Are you seriously looking forward to going from managing the Magnolia Tea Room to running Hairy's Cryptid Cafe? I'm surprised you even want to go visit the place. It sounds just dreadful.

I only met Uncle Harry a few times, but he was a fun old guy. My mom's brother didn't seem anything like her. We went back to Idaho to visit a few times when I was a kid, and he came to visit us a couple of times. I thought he was a big game hunter. He always talked about hunting creatures. I didn't realize until I was a teenager that he hunted cryptids like Sasquatch. My mother never approved of his belief in things she thought were crazy legends. I wasn't sure where I stood on the whole cryptid thing, but when I got a letter from a lawyer in Idaho that said Uncle Harry left me Hairy's Cryptid Cafe, it seemed like the adventure I'd been needing since my divorce drove a white fence picket through the heart of my dreams of a happily ever after.

When are you leaving?

Tomorrow. It's a long drive, but I'm looking forward to it. Wilkins’ Gap, here I come! I reached over to give Krista a high-five. Fudge. If I wasn't sure about leaving before, I am now, I said, sitting down and sliding my chair around so I could avoid looking at the woman who was engaged to my ex-husband.

What's she doing here? Krista asked, shooting daggers at the young woman. She probably thought you'd already left town.

I doubt that. I don't think Jamison knows I'm leaving.

Don't you think you should tell him?

He gave up the right to care about my plans when he decided to take that... that... girl into our bed.

I know. I get it, Krista said.

I'm pretty sure my mother thinks I stayed here because I thought he'd change his mind and come back.

He might.

It wouldn't matter. I wouldn't take him back.

We finished our tea, and Krista went back to work. I paid the bill and headed home to make sure my mom knew I was really moving to Idaho. She had an amazing ability to believe what she wanted, no matter what I told her.

XXX

I stopped in the garage and carried a load of boxes into the house with me. Mom was in the kitchen baking.

Where are you going with all of those? she asked as I navigated around the kitchen counter.

It's time to pack up, I said. She just gave me a blank stare. Mom, I'm leaving tomorrow. I need to pack my stuff.

Just take a suitcase. All you'll need are casual clothes and some warmer stuff.

Mother, I've explained this. I'm moving to Wilkins’ Gap. Moving, not visiting.

She huffed at me as I continued into the living room. I had never planned to move back in with my mom, but it had been the easiest step when I fled the home Jamison and I shared for years. I always assumed I'd get a place of my own. At first, I enjoyed my mother fussing over me and taking care of me, but once I got my emotions under control and accepted that my life plan needed some serious revisions, I started looking for a small apartment. I just never seemed to find the right place. Now that place was a one-bedroom apartment above Hairy's Cryptid Cafe in Wilkins’ Gap, Idaho.

CHAPTER TWO

Krista came over after work to help me pack and load the boxes into Snickety, my lemon-yellow Fiat. It was a small car, so I had to leave several boxes for Mom to ship to me. I knew she'd hold off as long as she could. She was still convinced I wouldn't be staying in Wilkins’ Gap. I knew there was a chance I'd hate it, but I committed to at least a year. I figured it would take me that long to get a handle on running the cafe. If I liked it, I'd stay. If I hated it, I'd sell. By that time, if I decided to move on again, I hoped I'd have some idea what I wanted to be when I grew up.

XXX

Be safe. Call me every night when you stop, my mom said as we shared one last hug in the driveway. With a gallon jug of sweet tea in the floor of the passenger seat next to a bag of homemade moon pies, I pulled out of the driveway and headed for the interstate. I'm big on lists. I had never taken such a long road trip by myself, so in an effort to be sure I stayed alert, I made a list of things to think about each hour I was on the road.

Hour one I reflected on my life in Georgia and the family and friends I was leaving behind. Hour two was spent analyzing what went wrong with my marriage and how I could avoid making the same mistakes again. I swore off men for a year after the divorce feeling I needed a man-cleanse. When my year was up, I dipped my toe back into the dating pool, but had yet to dive back into the deep end. After a year in Wilkins’ Gap, I'd reassess things and decide what came next. Before lunch, I took an hour off from thinking and cruised with my favorite tunes blaring.

I stopped for lunch at a diner off the highway. While I ate, I reread the letter I received from the lawyer in Idaho and added a couple of items to the list of questions I was putting together for my meeting with him.

I drove a couple of hours after my dinner stop before taking an exit with a chain hotel I recognized. After I checked in, I made a short call to my mom and had a long talk with Krista before calling it a night. My goal was to get to sleep early so I could be back on the road early in the morning.

After enjoying the complimentary breakfast at my hotel, I was back in Snickety for day two. My agenda for the second day included hours devoted to reviewing everything I'd ever read or seen about cryptids. It wasn't a field I was well versed in. When I got the letter from the lawyer, I asked my mom why Uncle Harry called his place Hairy's Cryptid Cafe. She said he was always into hunting big game, but something happened to him on a hunt a few years back, and he became obsessed with cryptids. Her exact words were Your Uncle Harry went nuts, bless his heart. That's when he immersed himself in the cryptid culture.

Hunting monsters was definitely not something I had any interest in. If you asked me if I believed in monsters, I'd tell you I had an ex-husband that proved they exist. After talking to my mom about Harry, I wondered if the people who frequented Hairy's really believed that bigfoot existed or if it was all tongue-in-cheek.

By the time I stopped for dinner on day two, I was exhausted. I don't know what ever possessed me to make a thirty some hour drive on my own. It was good to have time to think things over, but too much thinking was making me second guess my decisions. I was literally caught between my past and my future. I hoped a good night's sleep would give me the strength to continue on to my destination.

CHAPTER THREE

I slept well but found myself getting more nervous with each mile Snickety registered on the odometer. Suddenly, I was aware that every mile I drove took me further away from everything that was familiar and comfortable in my life. In full panic attack mode, I pulled over in a rest area, grabbed my phone, and got out of the car.

Krista, why did you let me do this?

Em, what's wrong? Where are you?

Somewhere in Montana, I think. This drive has given me too much time to think. I know absolutely nothing about hunting or hunters or cryptids or living in the north. I'm already out of sweet tea.

Take a breath, sweetie. It's OK to be nervous. You're making a fresh start. I wish I could have come along to keep you from freaking out.

Me, too.

We talked for a while as I walked around the rest area. By the time I got back into Snickety and pulled onto the highway, I promised myself I'd stop looking at my life in the rearview mirror. I was going to focus on what comes next. I'm a big believer in the power of positive thinking, but I'm also a realist. I know myself pretty well and staying positive isn't all that easy.

I stopped for lunch in Missoula. I was just paying the bill when my cell phone rang with a call from an Idaho number. Hello.

Hello, Ms. Mason. This is Jim Stafford, Mr. Wilkins’ lawyer.

Of course, Mr. Stafford. Is there a problem with the cafe?

No. No problem. I was just checking to see if you were still planning to meet with me tomorrow in Wilkins’ Gap?

I'm planning on it. I'm on my way now. I'm just leaving Missoula.

Have a safe trip. I'll see you tomorrow.

Jim Stafford seemed like a nice man. He encouraged me to come spend some time at Hairy's before making any decision about the long-term future of the cafe. I think I'll google him tonight and see if he has a photo on line. I wonder if he's my age or old like Uncle Harry. From Missoula to Wilkins’ Gap, I swore if the roads kept shrinking with each route change, I'd be on a cow path before I reached my destination.

There were lots of trees too, and the towns I passed through got smaller just like the roads. I knew Wilkins’ Gap was small. It had only a few thousand residents according to what I'd looked at online. Just on the edge of town, I saw a neon sign in the parking lot beside a building that looked like a log cabin. The sign said Hairy's Cryptid Cafe.

I pulled in and drove around to the rear of the building where a staircase led up to what I figured was my new home. I turned off the car, got out, and stretched. It was chilly, so I grabbed my jacket off the passenger seat and headed around front to the café entrance.

When I pushed the door open, I was assaulted by the sounds and smells. I closed my eyes, remembering all the times I walked through the front doors of the Magnolia Tea Room back home. When I opened my eyes again, I realized just how big a change I was making. Where the tea room was light, Hairy's was dark. Instead of floral chintz, everything was dark woods.

I made my way to the bar. I could feel lots of eyes checking me out, but I tried to ignore it. I didn't exactly look my best after spending three days on the road. I just wanted to pick up the key to the apartment, take a shower, and crash.

Is Rick working tonight? I asked the woman behind the bar.

Who's askin'?

I'm Everly Mason. I just need to get the key to the apartment from Rick.

I’m Sally. Nice to meet you. I'll tell him, she said and disappeared into the kitchen.

I heard muffled voices in the kitchen, then the door opened, and the waitress returned following an older man wearing an apron and wiping his hands on a towel. His arms were covered in tattoos, and he wore a ski cap on his head.

I'm Rick, the cook, he said, sticking out his hand toward me.

Hi, Rick. It's nice to meet you, I said, shaking his hand. I'm Everly Mason.

Sal said you were asking for the apartment key. Guess that means you're the new boss.

Guess so, I said.

Just then the door opened letting in a stream of cold air and a huge man. Everyone in the place stopped talking. The man made his way over to where I was standing with Rick and Sally. Who's this pretty little thing? he asked, letting his eyes roam over my body.

I'm Everly Mason, the new owner of Hairy's, I said.

Oh, hell no, he said, turning and walking back out the door. I was shocked. Was it something I said? I asked.

That was Chance Munroe. Don't think you were what he expected, Rick said, dropping a key ring in my