The first time I ever saw Jamie Lynn Bushby, I knew I needed to know her.

She was petite, with more legs than body, long brown hair streaked with blonde, and bright red

lipstick that immediately caught my attention. She stole my heart before I even knew her name.

Jamie was walking through the crosswalk in my small town, and I thought I knew everyone around

here. Where did she come from? Who was she? I needed to know.

I caught up with her at the crosswalk and asked if she was lost or needed help finding

something—or someone. She didn’t even turn around.

I had never felt so low. Discouraged, I turned and walked away with my head down.

* * *

Jamie had only just arrived in town, and already she couldn’t understand why her job had sent her

here.

“This town is so small,” she thought. “The population can’t be more than 100 people. Why on earth

would my job move me here?”

She decided to go for a walk and see what the town had to offer. She put in her earbuds and headed

out.

The walk was going rather nicely. People waved as she passed, and most everyone seemed to be

gathered at the corner store enjoying coffee and scones. There was something charming about it,

even if it was nothing like what she was used to.

It wasn’t until Jamie reached one particular crosswalk that an uneasy feeling came over her.

Someone was watching her.

She tried to ignore it, but the feeling became overwhelming. Jamie pulled out her earbuds and

turned around.

A tall, tan man in a ball cap was walking in the opposite direction.

Had he been behind her?

Was he dangerous?

And why did she have this strange feeling in her stomach when she watched him walk away?

Jamie stood there for another moment before putting her earbuds back in and continuing her walk,

the questions still rolling through her mind.Jamie was an editor with Goings Publishing, where she had worked for 15 years. Her firm was

working with a writer named Phineas Shark, and for the first time in her career, she had been sent

outside New York to meet with one of their writers.

And not just outside the city.

Smithfield, Kentucky.

Population: 104 people, 50,000 cats, dogs walking themselves, and neighbors who not only knew

the dogs by name but sometimes stopped to give them snacks.

Small-town life was completely foreign to Jamie, but to her surprise, she immediately embraced it.

She loved the quiet, the smell of the place, and, oh, the stars.

The stars were her favorite.

“So bright and beautiful,” she thought every time she looked up at the clear night sky.

New York was all Jamie had ever really known, and Smithfield couldn’t have been more different.

But one question kept nagging at her.

Who on earth was Phineas Shark?

She was intrigued.

After getting settled into her new apartment above the corner store, Jamie set off for the address

she’d been given: 5573 Main St, Smithfield.

Before heading there, she stopped by the post office across from the sandwich shop to check for a

package from her firm. Inside was a copy of Phineas Shark’s previous book.

Jamie didn’t like admitting it, but she had never actually read his work.

This assignment was more of a favor.

As she was leaving the post office, a man was walking in.

Jamie looked at him, and there it was again.

That feeling in her stomach.

Uneasy.

Familiar.

But she didn’t have time to figure out why. She had somewhere she needed to be.Phineas Shark was waiting for her, and they had new pages of his book to discuss.