The Earworms

By Kari Kilgore

Estonoa, Virginia. A lovely little town tucked deep in the Blue Ridge Mountains. 

Hiking and ATV trails. Kayaking along the scenic Clinch River. 

A thriving community focused on the future.

Erin Evans loves her hometown, except for one thing.

The Earworms.

Will Erin find the answer before the music drives her and everyone else crazy?

An excerpt from The Earworms:

What if your whole town had to face the music?

Erin hunched her shoulders. No one else was out on the street, no vehicles moving. Just a few short weeks ago, even this early in the day people would be walking, chatting, doing a bit of shopping before the afternoon heat settled in. 

The middle of the street could be the worst depending on how the songs played out that day. Sometimes all of Estonoa sounded one annoying tune, from nowhere and everywhere. 

Sometimes each block was different. 

More and more often, each building, sidewalk, and parking lot was infected with its own variety of musical torture. Even the hiking trail by the river and the town park had joined in the constant onslaught.

Erin gritted her teeth as chirpy Nineties pop battled campy Sixties TV. She hopped over brand new white lines on 4th Avenue, amazed at what she was willingly headed toward.

The theme from Gilligan's Island finally won out.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Spiral Publishing, Ltd
• Release date: Aug 24, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393321156

Kari Kilgore

Kari Kilgore started her first published novel Until Death in Transylvania, Romania, and finished it in Room 217 at the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, Colorado, where Stephen King got the idea for The Shining. That’s just one example of how real world inspiration drives her fiction. Kari’s first published novel Until Death was included on the Preliminary Ballot for the Bram Stoker Award for Outstanding Achievement in a First Novel in 2016. It was also a finalist for the Golden Stake Award at the Vampire Arts Festival in 2018. Recent professional short story sales include three to Fiction River anthology magazine, with the first due out in the September issue. Kari also has two stories in a holiday-themed anthology project with Kristine Kathryn Rusch due out over the holidays in 2019. Kari writes fantasy, science fiction, horror, and contemporary fiction, and she’s happiest when she surprises herself. She lives at the end of a long dirt road in the middle of the woods with her husband Jason Adams, various house critters, and wildlife they’re better off not knowing more about. Kari’s novels, novellas, and short stories are available at www.spiralpublishing.net, which also publishes books by Frank Kilgore and Jason Adams. For more information about Kari, upcoming publications, her travels and adventures, and random cool things that catch her attention, visit www.karikilgore.com.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Erin Evans stared at her hand on the thin red plastic steering wheel without seeing it, singing Frosty the Snowman under her breath. At least she thought it was under her breath.

With the wrinkled and faded orange plugs shoved deep into her ears, she couldn’t tell for sure.

She tapped her right foot with her internal beat, making sure she didn’t touch the brake pedal even though her truck was parked with the engine off. A randomly flashing set of brake lights was the best way to draw unwanted attention to herself even in a small town usually jammed full of pickups.

Her great uncle Wilson’s old Chevy, a flat-sided red and white Seventies model miraculously not eaten up with rust, already stood out more than she’d like.

Most folks in their little Virginia mountain town drove curvy new trucks, all shiny and modern. More decorated with fancy grills and black and silver accents than any cars were these days, pickups sported fine upholstery, heated seats, and better entertainment centers than Erin had at home.

Uncle Wilson used to say that kind of truck was too pretty and dainty to sit in if your boots were muddy, much less do any sort of real work.

That may be true, but Erin didn’t much care. All she knew was a broke college junior couldn’t get picky when it came to wheels. The long wood-grained dashboard was cracked in a couple of places, but she kept it spotless. She’d carefully mended a couple of tears in the springy red bench seat, which was conveniently long enough for her to stretch out on for a nap. The only cleaning or maintenance off-limits as far as she was concerned was any kind of harsh or stinky air freshener.

The lingering sweet, spicy aroma of her uncle’s pipe felt like a warm hug even after a long, hard day.

Kind of like the goofy Christmas music did for her miserable ears and tormented brain lately. She switched to singing Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer.

Erin thought she’d gotten too sick of the forced nostalgia and determined cheerfulness of traditional Christmas music to ever recover. Back when she was still playing the saxophone during the same songs for band concerts in school, year after year.

When they’d gotten so deep into her brain that their rhythms and melodies might as well have worn a physical groove, one she could feel right under her hair.

That was before the Earworms.

Now she was grateful to have songs she knew by heart, songs she could choose, to give her exhausted mind some kind of relief.

She was even more grateful for the sturdy old truck and had made sure to tell her uncle frequently until he passed away