Nathan wasn’t insulted. “You’re kind of funny.”
“I am funny. I also don’t like crowds. I can only take so much before I have to sneak a five-minute break and get some air.” Her eyes moved to me. “You can come with me if you need air. You don’t even need to make an excuse. Just glom onto mine.”
It was a surprisingly sweet offer. “I … will consider it.”
I did not want to like this woman. She’d ruined my life. Still—still—she was extending an olive branch. We didn’t have to be friends not to be enemies. “Thank you.”
She smiled, the expression soft. “No problem.” She turned back to her menu. “I’m getting the low country boil.”
“That’s what I’m getting,” I said.
This time awe was running through me as I regarded her. Maybe we had more in common than I’d thought. Not thatit mattered for any reason other than making the next twelve weeks tolerable.
“As for the readers, I’m not sure what to expect,” Bree said, turning the conversation back to business. “Will it mostly be readers of one genre? It’s Savannah, so I can see the paranormal and horror writers doing well with this thing.”
“Not the high fantasy authors, huh?” I prodded, my stomach constricting again. What if none of the readers were here to see me? I didn’t want to think on that too hard. One of my greatest fears was that I’d fallen so far between releases nobody even remembered me.
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that.” Bree shook her head. “You have a strong fan base. They’re clamoring online for your next book. I also think Savannah gets a lot of paranormal-enthusiast tourists. The locals get sick of it. I think we’re going to get a mixture of tourists and locals at these things.”
It was an intriguing thought. “I guess we’ll know more after tonight,” I said.
She nodded. “Tonight is the template. We’ll go from there.”
7
SEVEN
It didn’t go as badly as I thought it would. I was a nervous wreck right up until the readers started filing in. It became apparent relatively quickly that these readers were just excited to be able to hang out with authors—any authors—and they weren’t going to go crazy over one author and ignore all the rest. No, these were readers who loved books, not ones who loved only horror or paranormal romance and nothing else. That meant they were the best kind of readers.
“So, you don’t like reverse harem?” a young woman asked.
Her name was Lexie Harriman. She was about twenty-two, if I had to guess—she’d been carded for every drink she’d ordered—and she was asking questions about being an author. That told me she was at the event because she was interested in making writing a career path, not because she wanted to hear how Nathan was going to turn a giant blob into a hero at the end of his next book.
He was willing to tell that story over and over regardless. He’d made that abundantly clear. The guy was a tool—he had definite himbo energy—but was impossible not to like despite his bluntness and ego.
On the flip side, Brody was intense to the point of being distracting. He gave his full attention to whoever was talking to him, was earnest with every response, and looked as if he wanted to flee to the bathroom to hide when he was triple teamed by three guys with matchingLord of the Ringstattoos on their forearms.
I forced myself to focus on Lexie’s question rather than on Brody. He was holding his own, however uncomfortable, and he was not my concern. Not even a little.
“I don’t hate reverse harem,” I replied, searching for a diplomatic response. Then I shook my head. I couldn’t lie to Lexie. She wasn’t asking because she was a reader and wanted to talk about something I’d written. She was here fishing for author information. “Honestly? I don’t like reverse harem.”
Disappointment curved her lips down. “How come? Do you think people are going to lose interest in it?”
I had to work overtime to contain my smile. “I think reverse harem was a trend that turned into a trope.” I scratched my cheek as I debated how to proceed. I really did want to be helpful. “I’m not a trend writer. I also have to be true to what I feel in my heart to be able to write something.”
Lexie’s forehead creased. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t want to dump on anybody who likes reverse harem,” I said quickly. “I think everybody should be able to read whatever they want, and they should be able to enjoy it without anybody judging them. For me, though, I can’t invest in a romantic pairing that doesn’t have two people being devoted to each other. That was always my dream when I was growing up. I wanted someone to love me and only me. If there’s a third person there, it kind of ruins the fantasy. That’s just for me, though.”
Lexie didn’t look offended as much as thoughtful. “Hmm.”
“You’re younger,” I said. “Reverse harem has been a fiction thing for a good five years now. Your formative reading years were partially informed by reverse harem. That’s not how it was for me.”
“But … you think it will still sell, right?” she prodded.
“Of course.” I smiled, internally debating what I wanted to say next. “Is that what you want to write?”
Lexie instantly turned sheepish. “I’m not here to pick your writer brain or anything. I really am a fan.”
