Book Excerpt:
Gone with the Nerd

Zoe tried to quiet the jumpy little squiggles in her tummy. “What am I looking for, exactly?”
“Anything unusual," Flynn said. "Recently broken branches. Footprints.”
“What kind of footprints?”
“Like a human’s only bigger. Maybe around twenty inches or so.”
“Twenty?” She gulped. “How b-big are these guys supposed to be?”
“Some have been reported at fourteen feet, but that’s —” He paused and took a closer look at her. “You’re scared to death, aren’t you?”
She shook her head and tried to stop shaking.
“You are so. Don’t torture yourself. Let’s go back to the cabin and I’ll get the key so you can lock yourself in.”
“No. I want to do this.” She clenched her hands into fists and willed herself to be calm. Flynn wasn’t afraid. Instead he was fascinated. That’s what she had to go for — total fascination. She’d had no idea learning to be a nerd would be so scary, though.
Okay, she had the answer. She would pretend this was a scene in her latest film, not reality. That would be the reverse of her usual thought process, where she had to convince herself that the scene was real. Funky. She could do this.
Stepping about three feet away from him, she started walking, keeping her eyes on the ground. Twenty-inch footprints. Oh . . . my . . . God. If she saw one, she’d freak out, scene or no scene.
Of course she saw one. “Flynn!”
He came quickly and snapped the lighter to produce a tiny flame. Then he drew a quick breath and crouched down with a murmur of delight.
Zoe was not delighted. Pressed into a patch of soft dirt was a human-like footprint, but no human had made that print. Her entire forearm and hand would fit lengthwise inside it, no problem.
She stood staring at it in the wavering flame of the butane lighter. The longer she stared, the more light-headed she became trying to process what she was seeing. She didn’t realize she was squeezing Flynn’s shoulder until he doused the flame, stuck the lighter in his pocket and stood up.
“It’s okay,” he said, drawing her into his arms.
Her whole body was stiff with shock and she could barely make her lips move. “What . . . what is that?” It was a silly question. There was only one answer.
“Don’t be afraid.” He pulled her close. Then he took off his glasses and slipped them into his other pocket.
“What are you doing?” Another silly question for which there was only one answer.
“I’m commemorating the moment.” He leaned down, his breath warm against her mouth.
She wasn’t supposed to allow this. For some reason it was a very bad idea. But in the face of a twenty-inch footprint, she couldn’t remember why.