"Josie!" an excited voice squeals nearby, and I turn in surprise, puzzled by the small group of strangers in front of me.
"Hi!" I put as much enthusiasm as possible into my voice while my mind searches frantically for a memory of who this might be.
"It's Christina." The voice is fractionally less enthusiastic as she senses my uncertainty.
Christina…oh!
"Christina! Oh my gosh, I almost didn't recognize you. How weird, since I see your picture so often online. I'm so excited you're here."
I'm surprised by her enthusiastic hug, my arms automatically bringing her in like an old friend, which she is. It's special when you find a few loyal followers who appear to enjoy your writing and are willing to dissect plot lines and tell you all the reasons they love and hate a character.
Some days, there's so little to love about writing. This isn't one of those days.
"I told you I was coming to stalk you! I even brought my friends. This is Annie, Becky, Jessica, and Lesley. Oh my God! You have books."
"I know." I grin, finally proud of myself as Christina snatches a book from the pile, fanning the pages in delight. "I thought maybe you hadn't made it after all, or were afraid to leave the regular romance room."
"No, we just started there because we had timed tickets for Alicia Riggs."
"Oh, I'm so jealous! How was she?"
"She was cool, but it's not like you really got to talk to her. Not like this. Her table is roped off and you get about twenty seconds to get your book signed and snap a photo. Then we went to the panel discussion for the Love Among the Ashes books. People were literally weeping in the aisles."
"Sorry I missed that one." Clearly, I need to dial back my sarcasm as Becky looks wounded. "I just mean that I prefer happier books. I can't take that much heavy when I read."
Even Becky laughs and admits, "It was a bit intense, but I like a good cry every now and then, don't you?"
"Happy tears only here." I raise my hand as if making a vow. "Ok, who wants signed postcards and bookmarks?" I say, glad that I have something to offer.
"I do, plus a signed book!" Christina's enthusiasm transmits to the rest as they start pulling out wallets and hefting tote bags already filled with books.
"You got it! What do you want it to say?"
"You decide."
"Ok. Now I have to think about it. You caught me off guard."
Looking to Emma, who watches the scene with deep satisfaction, I raise a brow, hoping for advice.
"What would Jane do?" I ask her.
"No. What would Josie do?" She smiles.
Nodding, I bite the end of the pen as the girls chatter in front of me, before taking the plunge and writing the first thing that comes to mind.
My Lovely Christina,
WWJD? Believe in Love.
Josie
* * *
Lunchtime approaches, and the crowds ebb and flow around the scheduled panel discussions. Some people disappear in search of food, while others settle in to listen to discussions of their favorite characters and tropes.
Sending Emma off in search of coffee, Charity and I enjoy the unexpected lull to kick back and breathe for a while.
"You've been really busy." Motioning to the dwindling pile of books before Charity, I try to suppress the twinge of envy in my voice.
"Yeah, it's been a good day. I hate doing shows, but they're good for sales."
"Really? You seem like a natural, you're so good with people."
"You want to know a secret?"
I nod, curious to hear what someone as seasoned as she is can teach me.
"It's the Ativan." My mouth drops open at her earnest confession. "It takes the edge off. Normally, I'm a completely awkward duck. This gives me a little chill. I'd never make it through the panel otherwise."
"You're doing one of the panels?" I grab the program and start paging through the line up until I see Charity's name. "Multiplicity?"
"Yep, Reverse Harem by the Numbers."
"What does that mean?"
"Oh, we thought we'd have fun with the people who like to argue what the right number of men is for a harem."
"Holy crap, Eva Grayson's on that panel, too. Emma will have a meltdown if she doesn't get to see that. Can I send her along with you? Can you pretend she's your PA or something?"
"Sure! Do you want to come, too?"
"What do we do about the table? We can't just leave everything here without someone to watch it. Not that I think anyone is going to run away with my books."
"My sister, Laurel, is coming to hang out during the panel. She's going to watch my stuff, so she can watch yours, too."
"Won't she want to see the panel discussion?"
"Nah. She's done so many of these with me now, it bores her. I only got her to this one because she heard the guys of Inked were going to be in the same venue. It was a pretty good incentive as bribes go."
"Your sister and Emma will get along great! In fact, I can't imagine what's keeping her. I know lines are long at the concessions, but surely it shouldn't take this long to get coffee."
"Why didn't she go to the green tent?"
"What's the green tent?"
"There's a concession room set up just for the authors. You don't stand in line with everybody else. Not that there's much back there but soggy sandwiches and bagged snacks, but there's always bottled water and coffee. And we have our own restroom."
"How did I not know this?"
"Because you're still acting like a fan rather than a writer," Charity says standing to stretch. "In fact, I'm going to take a quick restroom break. Watch my stuff?"
"You got it." I smile as she walks away and a few older ladies accost her in the aisle, the words 'blood' and 'zombies' drifting faintly back to me.
Checking my phone again, I start to get a bit concerned by Emma's prolonged absence. After another ten minutes, the sight of her spiky hair weaving toward the table reassures me, two coffees clutched in her hands, but something is off.
"Hey, where have you been?" I look her over critically. Her hair is a little less perfect than it was when she left earlier, her cheeks are flushed, and her pupils are slightly dilated, like someone who's just entered a dark room from bright sunlight.
"Are you okay? You look freaked out. Were you outside?"
"I'm fine. It's nothing."
"What's nothing?"
"There's nothing wrong. Where's Charity?"
"She went to the bathroom. Did you know she's on the Multiplicity panel with Eva Grayson?"
"Wow." Even Emma's reactions are off. I expected unbridled excitement, but instead, she looks a little dazed. Finally, shaking her head as if clearing her thoughts, she starts to act a bit more normal.
"I'd love to see that. Do you think we can sneak in?"
"Charity said she'd work it out. I think she's a little high. Apparently, she has some anxiety issues and has been self-medicating to take the edge off."
"Awesome," Emma replies absently, staring off into the distance.
"Emma. What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Nothing. I told you I'm fine." I'm surprised to hear the faint buzz of my cell phone from my purse, interrupting our discussion. The signal here has been sporadic at best. Emma takes full advantage of my distraction to grab a few stray people roaming near our table to sign up for my newsletter.
My cell shows two missed calls from Patsy. That's odd, since she rarely works on Saturdays. She must not realize that Nate is covering. Vowing to call her later, I slip my phone back into my purse as Charity returns with another woman in tow. She looks vaguely familiar, until Emma greets her, and I realize that she's one of the organizers.
"Josie, this is Meg," Charity introduces us, and I shake her hand. "We have a problem, but I told Meg you could help."
"Sure. Whatever you need. What can I do?"
"Alexa was supposed to be part of the Multiplicity panel, but now I have a hole. I was hoping you could fill in."
"
Me?" I squeak. "Why would you want me? There's a million better known authors in this room. Surely any one of them would be a wiser choice than me."
"That's amazing!" Emma chimes in, back to her usual steamroller self. "She'd love to."
"No. Let's go back to, surely there are other people better suited to a panel than me."
"Well," Meg looks at me apologetically. "To a certain extent, there are, but we look for a balance of more experienced authors and new talent. For one thing, it allows the bigger names to shine without too much distraction."
"She means competition," Charity chimes in.
"Don't be childish, Charity. I meant distraction. It becomes chaotic when there are too many rabid fans in one room at a time. It's the fans who get unruly, not the authors." At Charity's eye roll, Meg concedes, "Well, sometimes there's some egos involved, too."
"Preach."
Meg ignores Charity to direct her words to me. "Besides, Charity said her sister is watching your table, so we know everyone is covered. I don't want to have to ask someone else and have to find table coverage with such short notice." At my uneasy look, she continues, "It will be easy. Honestly, you'll probably get asked very few questions. You're there more to represent balance and provide a breath when we need to move people to a new topic. They'll throw a question to you, you answer briefly, then one of the bigger authors will run with it. It will be great exposure."
"You realize I'm not a reverse harem writer? I can't speak to multiplicity."
"Can't you?" Emma asks with fake innocence.
"Stop it, Em."
"Don't worry about it." Meg turns to leave, as if the issue has been resolved. "You have a table in the reverse harem room, so no one will question it. You have read a reverse harem before, right?" Stopping abruptly, she turns to pin me with a serious expression.
"Of course."
"Well then, just speak from your experience and preferences, and you'll be fine. We need everyone in the room in half an hour."
My experience and preferences? If they only knew.
Chapter 37
Who's Getting Quadrilled?
Peeping into the packed room, I try to burn off some nervous energy by pacing the corridor. It's only me, Charity, Emma, and most of the other panel authors present. Eva Grayson has yet to make an appearance, and Emma is like a child bouncing in anticipation at a parade, waiting for the first drums that herald the marching band.
Taking a large gulp of my latte, I'm not above begging. "Emma, please, you're making me antsy. I'm nervous enough."
"You're fine. It's only for an hour. Where is she? I bet she's still swarmed at her table. You should have seen the people crowded around earlier when I passed."
There's moments that make you believe that time is truly liquid. Like watching Emma's hand fly up in greeting to herald Eva Grayson's appearance at the end of the hall. The hollow thunk of the cardboard as her hand connects with the bottom of my latte just as I lift it to my lips. The hot splash of espresso and cream that rains down the front of my white shirt, bleeding color where there should be none.
I'm sure the stunned expression on my face must be comical to anyone not living that moment as Emma, finally realizing what she's done, claps a hand to her mouth to stem a flow of curses.
Instead, Eva Grayson sweeps past us like a queen, greeting the others before stopping in front of me with a sympathetic look.
"Better soak that in some cold water."
I squash the wail building in the back of my throat as she turns away and Meg asks us all to hop onto the makeshift stage.
"I can't go out there now!" I whisper loudly to Emma, who is already lifting the hem of her t-shirt over her stomach.
"Take it off! Quick."
"Are you crazy? I can't wear your shirt. It's three sizes too small!"
"It's meant to be tight. No one will notice," she says, now clad only in her skimpy bra and jeans in the empty hall. "Give me your shirt."
"I'm not undressing here in the hall." My hands clutch at the stained fabric, trying to hold the damp mass away from my body.
Meg's head pokes from the doorway before frowning at us.
"Josie, I really need you up here. What's going on?" Seeing the ruined shirt, she curses briefly. "Do you have an extra shirt?"
"She's going to put on mine," Emma says, holding her t-shirt out to me as Meg gives us the thumbs up.
"Great. Hurry! People are already restless."
"Emma."
"Put it on. Goddamnit, Josie, you are not missing this opportunity. Put on the goddamn t shirt!"
My fingers fly down the buttons of my shirtfront, stripping it from my shoulders to take Emma's. The strain of the fabric over my breasts distorts the rooster's head and emphasizes the word 'cocks.' Just as quickly, Emma slips on my oversized shirt, tying the front in a knot over her toned stomach and leaving several buttons open to minimize the visibility of the coffee stains.
"Go get 'em." Her hands push me toward the doorway, and I slip in just as Meg is finishing the introductions, everyone staring at my empty seat.
With an awkward wave, I clamber up the steps to slide into the last chair, feeling the full weight of all the eyes in the room.
"Hi." My hand lifts briefly in a small wave, my best plastic smile pasted to my face, knowing that the tight shirt is showing every outline of my demi bra and the squish of flesh around the band under my arms and back.
"Let's get started."
Meg opens the discussion, acting as the moderator, by asking Eva about her dragon books and how she determined how many dragons should be in the harem.
The discussion swells as other authors jump in, Meg moving down the line and asking each person how many men comprise their harems. It's like I have the best seat in the house for a master class on writing. I'm so invested in listening to their discussion that I forget I'm supposed to be part of it.
Silence hangs in the air, and I look around, wondering why no one is talking. Dozens of eyes stare at me until Meg prompts me gently.
"Josie, do you want to talk about your men?"
"My men? We haven't known each other that lon—" Stopping abruptly, my face flames as I kick myself mentally, realizing that she's asking about my book, not my personal life.
"Well that sounds intriguing!" Eva Grayson laughs from her position on the center of the platform. "Do tell."
Backpedaling, I try to flip the conversation. "I mean my book. I haven't been writing these characters for that long. They haven't whispered all of their secrets to me yet."
Giving Emma wide eyes, I plead for help, only to get a shrug in return.
"What's the name of your book?"
"The Duke's—" At Emma's head shake, I stop. "Corsets and Quadrilles."
"What's a quadrille?" Charity asks.
"It's a dance between four or more people. It starts in pairs, but then more people join in."
"Well, that's appropriate." Another author laughs. "How many people are joining this dance?"
"Right now, it starts with Lady Sydney. Then there's her lover Lord Cedric, although she had a mini interlude with Lord Roderick. But it's not a reverse harem."
"No that would make it a ménage," someone else remarks.
"No, I mean—"
"Don't forget Major Percy," Emma chimes in from the side.
"Oh, right. But Major Percy won't share a lady. He's done with all the camp followers who serviced the troops on the battlefield."
"I love when one of the harem members has to be convinced," Charity adds. "That's why people love Chasm in Nailed To The Heart. Well, and the fact that he has a dinosaur-sized cock."
Laughter fills the room as Meg asks readers to nominate their favorite cocky character. The crowd seems fairly evenly split between Charity's Chasm, Grayson's dragon alpha, Weston, and another author's octopus shifter, who specializes in full-tentacle massage—inside and out.
Watching the readers argue about their favorite characters, defending them as if they were their
own spouse or child, is a fascinating experience. The small details they bring up, that often stump the authors who wrote the story, make me realize how passionate they are about the books they read.
I really want Lady Sydney to get some of that love some day. Or Cedric, or Roderick. Even Percy's heart deserves a measure of that love being sprinkled like magic throughout the room. In this place, characters live and breathe through the readers. It's a miraculous gift to watch them come to life through the readers' eyes.
As the clock heads to the top of the hour, Meg opens the discussion to reader questions, targeting one author at a time. The majority of time is spent with Eva Grayson, until Meg cuts off the flow, insisting on moving to Charity and the other two authors, before finally getting to me.
I stare at the clock, wishing the hands would move faster through what is bound to be an embarrassing silence, since no one has read my book. Instead, a voice pipes up from the back of the room, and I realize that Christina and her friends have been here all along.
"I really loved The Duke's Rose, even if it wasn't a reverse harem." Christina's sweet voice swells down the aisle. "How much steam is there going to be in Corsets?"
Giving me the opening I need, I smile in relief. "Corsets is more of a slow to medium burn." I watch faces for a reaction before adding, "Although, there's an incident on horseback between Lady Sydney and one of her…men that gets pretty hot."
Suddenly, more questions start to fly at me, asking when the book will be out and if they can preorder. I'm surprised when someone asks,"Where did you get your cock shirt?"
A chorus of other voices clamour for the same information, until I finally throw up my hands in surrender.
"Emma made the shirt." I gesture to Emma standing off to the side, watching her give a small wave to the crowd. "She's my best friend and PA." At that, Emma grins and nods. "She assures me that we will be doing a newsletter only giveaway for a few of these if you sign up at our table. In the meantime, we have books to sign and some other cute t-shirts to raffle off."
I'm interrupted by Meg, thanking the group for joining us and reminding everyone about the next panel coming up after a reset.
Corsets and Quartets Page 34
