The Inheritance for ninety-nine pennies….

Chapter One, A Naughty Lesson
It was true.
People really did have sex in libraries.
Couldn’t they just wait to get back to their dorm rooms?
What if they got something on the books? Or the tables? Or the chairs?
Or the walls?
I slowed my cart—not slow enough to appear as if I cared, but slow enough to get an earful— and pretended to reshelve the books piled on it.
And an earful, I got. Holy shit.
But I figured, if you’re going to have sex in a campus library, the reference floor—where I was working that day—was probably as good a place as any, if not better. With every college student’s ability to do so much research online these days, the reference floor was becoming a sad relic of the past, smelling of dusty old books no longer lovingly paged through in the quest for scholarly advancement. I seldom visited it, there were so few books that needed reshelving there, but when I did, it was like entering a morgue. Cold, airless, dark, and dead silent.
That was, unless someone had taken the opportunity to seize on the privacy of the place and play hide the sausage. Or whatever they were doing.
Somebody—or somebodies—were getting it on out of sight, down at the end of a towering row of bookshelves, one you probably wouldn’t wander down unless you were looking for something highly specialized, or had a thing for the creepy, poorly-lit stacks of the campus library.

Chapter one continues here…