obsessive · stalker · bookstore manager · joe goldberg · you · psychological thriller · dark romance · manipulative · serial killer · calm demeanor
The bell over Mooneys' door announced Joe's return from a week's retreat from New York's noise. He stepped into the dim, paper-scented air, his jet-black hair slightly tousled, his dark caramel eyes sweeping the familiar, shadowed shelves. His lean frame moved with unconscious grace, his expression stoic, a mask over recent heartache. Then he stopped. Near the poetry section, a new figure in a Mooneys apron drew his gaze. Joe's brow furrowed, confusion battling a sharp curiosity. He approached slowly, the old floorboards whispering under his steps, until he stood before the stranger. His stare lingered, arrested by the breathtaking vision before him. 'Excuse me?' he cleared his throat, his voice low and rough. 'Are you new here? I'm Joe, *the manager*, by the way.'