by Drew Sera
When it appeared that Samantha was done talking about book stuff and the event, I shifted the conversation.
“J.P. sent me a message last night asking why Jeannie had to die in Paris,” I said casually.
“Really?”
I nodded.
“I explained how it was karma for Emilio to lose someone that was important to him after he had been such a dick through his life to people. Anyhow, I just found it kind of funny that this bad ass sadist was pissed about her dying.”
“Remember Aims, just because he’s a sadist doesn’t mean he’s a terrible, mean, heartless man.”
“I know.”
“Besides,” Samantha paused and sipped from her cup. “I think it’s cute that he downloaded and read Paris in a day.”
I had to smile. I also thought it was sweet of J.P. I showed Samantha the text string between J.P. and me today. When I held my phone out for her to see, she yanked her sunglasses off and stared at the phone with wide eyes.
“Whoa, wait a minute,” Samantha said as she grabbed the phone and scrolled with her index finger. “Did you give Mr. Sadist your cell number – your actual cell number?” she asked as she stared at me with those big, surprised, “what the fuck” eyes.
“Yes.”
“Amy!”
“What? J.P. and I have been talking for over a month. He’s been helping me with some info for the book...and we’ve become friends. It’s becoming so difficult and cumbersome to have to log into Kinky Links just to see if he’s sent a message.”
She still was staring at me and I felt that a parental warning was on the tip of her tongue.
“Sam, might I remind you that you were the one who thought it was okay for me to give him my pen name.”
“A pen name is different than your fucking phone number, Aims.”
“Seriously? You’re going to rake me over the coals for this? He’s helping me with the book. He’s not a stranger. This isn’t going anywhere romantically, so please relax.”
“So far,” Samantha said in a playful tone.
I rolled my eyes at her from behind the safety of my sunglasses.
“Have you guys talked on the phone yet? Does he have a deep, sexy, sadist voice?” she excitedly asked.
“What is a ‘sadist voice’ anyhow?”
“It’s deep and sexy,” Samantha said, and while laughing, she added, “And dangerous sounding.”
I laughed but shook my head at her.
“I don’t know. We haven’t spoken on the phone. But when I do talk to him on the phone, I will be sure to let you know.”
I finished my last bit of coffee and stood.
“I have to get going so I can get things ready for tomorrow. You’ll be at my house in the morning so we can leave right at 6:30?”
“Yes, I’ll be there and we can talk about your new book and J.P. on the drive to San Diego,” Samantha said.
When I got situated in my car, I decided to send J.P. another text. It wasn’t important at all, but I wanted to send something to let him know that I really wasn’t mad at him about his text comment earlier.
Amy: Hey you, hope your afternoon is going well. I have a few errands to run and will be home later. By the way, my nails look great for tomorrow.
I stopped at the gas station and filled up for the trip tomorrow and grabbed some munchies in the convenience store. Since the post office is right around the corner from my place, I decided to stop in today and collect the mail from my P.O. Box where fans and readers can write.
When I opened the box, I stared at the inside jammed full of letters and cards. There was also a small bubble mailer package. I shook it but had no idea what was inside of it. Mystery gifts are sometimes good and sometimes not so good. I would leave it in the car and we could read through them during our drive tomorrow. I knew she wanted to talk about the new book, specifically the release date that I don’t have for her yet.
When I got back to the car with my loot, I checked my cell phone and smiled at the new text from J.P.
J.P.: I’m on my break. Glad you’re not pissed at me and that your nails turned out as you hoped. What color are they?
I started to type back that they were purple, but decided to take a picture of them. I sent him the picture and then added that they were purple with black flecks. I read his next text as I sat in my driveway waiting for the garage door to open.
J.P.: I like the black flecks.
Amy: I’m home now. Going to finish up my packing for tomorrow and do a little book work.
J.P.: I work until 6 p.m. I’ll catch you later.
I decided to wear my little black dress and vibrant purple heels for the book event tomorrow. Before slipping it into the garment bag, I snapped a picture of the outfit and sent it to Samantha. She likes to know these things mostly so we don’t accidentally wear the same colors.
Amy: How’s this for tomorrow?
I put together a make-up bag and set it next to the garment bag. While I was putting my shoes in a small bag, my phone chirped for the incoming text. When I grabbed it, I was expecting to see a text back from Sam regarding the outfit…not J.P.
J.P.: Love it. Shoes will be a pop of color off that black dress and will look great with the nails.
Shit. Directly above his text was mine asking, “How’s this for tomorrow,” along with the picture of my black dress and purple shoes. I’ve really got to stop multitasking and texting quickly. I typed a response back to him.
Amy: Thanks, I think subconsciously I wanted to wear these shoes all along.
I then sent the picture of the outfit to Samantha and before I set the phone down, I had one back from her. I swear, the phone must be glued to her hand.
Samantha: Looks good! Heads up, Ryan and I are going to dinner and then with any luck, I will be tied up tonight. So, I might not reply to your messages right away.
A few hours later I was satisfied that I had everything ready. I sat down with my laptop and worked a little bit on the new book. I wanted to get a new teaser up tonight for the new book. I wasn’t nearly as good as Samantha was with graphics, but when needed I could turn out something decent. I found a gray, smoke background and using a bright purple font, I typed out the verbiage to my short teaser.
There. I sat back and stared at it for a few minutes, considering it. Were the words getting lost or washed out? Normally I would send this to Sam and get her two cents. Then typically she would say “it’s ok” and then moments later she’d send me a version that looked much better. But I wasn’t going to bug her with this now. I hoped she was enjoying her evening with Ryan. I still can’t believe they met on Kinky Links.
“Hmm,” I mused out loud. “Wonder if J.P. has an opinion.” I decided to pick his brain for a moment.
Amy: Do you have a sec to glance at a teaser graphic that I want to post tonight? Looking for another opinion.
J.P.’s text came a few minutes later while I was messing with the font size. He said he’d be happy to take a look. I went ahead and sent him the picture and asked him what he thought about the font and if he thought the words were being washed out.
J.P.: I like it. Especially the purple font because it goes perfectly with your branding colors.
Sharp guy. I was surprised that he picked up on that.
Amy: What do you think though about the verbiage? Does it wash out or is it hard to read?
J.P.: I think it’s easy to read. But maybe it’s my perfect vision.
Amy: Funny. So, for the rest of the population that wasn’t blessed with perfect vision like you, how does it look?
J.P.: Can you try to bold the font?
Oddly, I hadn’t tried that.
“Why didn’t I think of that?” I whispered to myself.
I highlighted the text and clicked to bold it, then sat back to look at it. I felt much better about this now. I sent the bolded version of the teaser to J.P.
Amy: Excellent suggestion. I like it a lot better now. What do you think?
; J.P.: Perfect.
Amy: Like you and your vision?
J.P.: Yes, just like that.
Amy: I’m going to go with it. Thanks for your help, J.P.
I quickly made the post to all my social media accounts and then checked over my “to do” list one last time before going to bed.
J.P.: You should get some sleep since you’re leaving early in the morning for your drive. Good luck with your event tomorrow.
Aw, he’s a sweetie.
Amy: Thank you. I’ll send you a picture from the event.
J.P.: Can you do me a favor? This might sound really weird to you, but would you send me a text before you head out on the road and then when you arrive at the event?
I smiled at my phone.
Amy: Are you going “big brother” on me?
J.P.: Yes. It’s a Dom thing.
Amy: That is very sweet of you. And yes, I’ll text you before I leave in the morning.
J.P.: Thank you. Goodnight.
Before I drifted off to sleep, I thought about how refreshing it felt to be cared and looked after by a guy. I didn’t even have that with my ex.
Chapter 7
February
Amy
Samantha was right on time, and I helped her transfer stuff from her car to my trunk. I settled down in the driver’s seat, and the inside of the car lit up when I woke my phone up.
“What are you doing?” Samantha asked while setting our coffees in the cup holders.
“Texting J.P.”
“Oh, this is getting exciting,” Samantha clapped her hands and then rubbed them together.
“Why?” I asked her while trying to compose a text.
“Because you’re often texting with the sadist.”
“J.P.”
“J.P. the sadist,” she added.
“J.P. the sadist who is helping me with my book.”
“Right…J.P. the sadist who is helping you with your book and that you have no feelings for,” Samantha added.
I sighed and concentrated on the text while we sat in the driveway.
Amy: Morning, J.P. Samantha and I are heading out now. Depending upon the traffic between Costa Mesa and San Diego, we should arrive there in about an hour or so. I’ll text you when we get there.
“Speaking of the book,” Samantha started. “How is it coming along?”
“Good actually. My target word count is in line with all the other novels, and I’d estimate that I’m almost to the halfway point.”
“Great! Do you have a—”
“Release date? No, not yet. I need a little more time with it before I determine the date.”
“And the title, are you still going with Dark Kiss?” she asked.
I confirmed that Dark Kiss was still what I wanted to use for the title.
“I brought all the mail from the post office box. I thought we could go through it on the drive.”
Samantha grabbed the bag from the back seat and commented on how much she loved fan mail. I knew this would be a fun way to spend the drive versus her grilling me about J.P. and the book release date.
For the next several miles, Samantha read letters from fans out loud. Many of the letters were from names that I recognized from social media. All the letters were positive and had something great to say about one of my books.
“Shall I open the mysterious bubble mailer?” Samantha asked as she shook it.
“Why not?”
Samantha went to work on opening the package. Apparently, she had looked inside and burst out laughing but hadn’t pulled the contents out yet.
“What? What is it?” I asked.
“This is great. Really great.”
Samantha pulled out a packaged butt plug. I frowned when I glanced over at it.
“And they sent—” Samantha was laughing so hard that she couldn’t even talk. “They sent lube.”
She pulled out a travel sized tube of lube.
“How thoughtful.”
“It was thoughtful, Aims. They obviously wanted you to enjoy this.”
“Obviously.”
“Wait, there’s a letter with it.”
Samantha cleared her throat and began to read out loud.
Dear Amy Andrews,
I love all your books, but so far, my favorite has been Unexpected Love. I adored the character Desmond and loved the plot. It’s hard to find a ton of mixed culture romances out there. Thank you for writing one. I’ve seen your pictures online and thought if you were anything like your female character in Unexpected Love that you would enjoy this penis for your ass. “Cock” sounds so dirty and I didn’t think it would be appropriate to include in your letter. Use lots of lube, Amy. Enjoy!
Your fan,
Anne Dumont
Samantha was still in a fit of giggles over this and dabbing her eyes.
“Oh, my God, that was so funny. It’s an inspirational gift from the pages of Unexpected Love. You can’t get much better than that, Aims.”
I smiled as I thought about Unexpected Love. It’s the story of a well-off twenty-something who joins a humanitarian project in college for a semester. Her group goes to Africa where her eyes are opened to things going on outside of her little Ivy League college life. It’s a very different life, and she soon finds herself falling in love. She ends up experiencing anal sex for the first time with the well-endowed project leader, Desmond.
Samantha continued to read some out loud.
Dear Amy,
Are you into swinging?
Lani
I raised an eyebrow and spoke as if I were answering Lani’s mail on a radio show. “No, Lani, I don’t have a man. Thanks for your call.” And of course, Samantha had to chime in as if she were Lani.
“But, Amy, if you did have a man, would you consider swinging? You see, my husband and I would love to bang the hell out of you,” Samantha said in a mocking voice.
Samantha asked me in all seriousness if I’d ever considered doing that with a reader.
“Um, no,” I said, surprised that she would even ask if I’d do that with a reader or fan. “That has disaster written all over it.”
“Inquiring minds want to know,” Samantha said.
“If I had a man and he wanted to try it, I’d probably be up for it if we knew the other couple.”
“Note to self…find Amy Andrews a man so she can frolic with Ryan and me,” Samantha mocked.
Finally, we pulled into the hotel parking lot where the event was being held and unloaded the car. While Sam and I stood in line at the registration check-in table, I sent a text to J.P.
Amy: We made it. There wasn’t much traffic to contend with, and we’re waiting in line to check-in now.
J.P.: Good to hear. Have fun and send me a picture later.
Amy: Will do.
I didn’t even comment on what I was doing when I met Samantha’s stare. She knew what I was doing. I slipped my phone back into my purse and pulled out my I.D. and registration confirmation that Sam gave me. Moments after presenting our I.D., we were given badges and shown to our table.
“Remember, there will be lots of dark romance writers at this event. So, it might be good to check out their tables and meet them. All walks of life read dark romance.”
“Got it,” I said.
“Okay, go get ready, and I’ll begin setting up your table.”
Samantha shooed me away. I found a bathroom in the hotel lobby and quickly changed and touched up my makeup. I made it back to the exhibit hall with a few minutes to spare before the group photo and then the book event opened to the public shortly after that.
Chapter 8
February
J.P.
It turns out that San Diego wasn’t as far of a drive as I thought it might be. I hope I’m not the only guy attending this. I’ve never been to a book event before, but after everything Amy had been saying about them, I wanted to attend. If nothing else, so I could see her and buy one of her books.
Did I have something sweet pr
epared to say to her? Absolutely not. At least not yet. I just valued the friendship that we were building and I wanted to concentrate on that. Our foundation wasn’t based off subs I’ve scened with or slept with, or work acquaintances. This was a real friendship.
I wore jeans, a button-down shirt, and boots. I assumed that would meet typical book event dress code standards. I also wore my glasses instead of contacts because I didn’t want her to recognize me. I gave the valet my keys and headed inside the hotel. In the lobby, there were tons of signage for Sinful and Sensuous in San Diego.
Who the hell comes up with these event names?
From what Amy was telling me, this event would have more of the darker romance authors in attendance. I followed the signs and was surprised when I saw the massive line at the ticket table. While I waited, I fucked around with my phone some and received a text from Amy.
Amy: Here’s a picture of my table. What do you think?
The picture showed her table, adorned with a bright purple tablecloth. Just like her logo and branding colors. Soon, I’d be seeing this in person. It looked like she had all her books out on display and on small silver easels.
