“Your pervy little speech about forearms has gone viral!”
I ran a hand through my hair and winced when it caught on a tangle. “Define viral.”
“Everything you said has been set to music, stitched by thirst trap guys and commented on by half of booktok. Your social media accounts have had two million views since the interview. You are every romance reader’s favorite author slash cringe queen.”
“Oh great, I’m sure I was voted most likely to be a cringe queen in high school,” I deadpanned.
Anastasia snorted. “The publisher wants a new series ASAP. Luna Darling, this is your moment in the sun, and we need to keep you there. We’ll do special editions and merch and all sorts of stuff.”
“Wait, I’m still doing edits on my current pain in the ass. I don’t have time for a moment in the sun. I need to be in the dungeon fixing commas.” I glanced toward my coffee machine, which was slowly dripping liquid enthusiasm into the pot.
“Babe, I have faith in you. And, unfortunately, that old saying of striking while the iron is hot totally applies here. You gotta write while the iron is hot, or strike while the plot is hot, or type while the—”
“I get it. I get it.” I ran a hand over my face. This was my dream job, and it was getting more lucrative by the day. I just had to get used to dividing my time between being productive and being the face of my books’ marketing.
“So you on board with that?”
I poured coffee into a mug and settled onto the couch. “Sure, I just need someinspiration.”
Ana laughed. “I might be able to help you with that.”
“Please don’t send me a stripper gram.”
She snorted. “If anyone needs a half-naked man, it’s you, but no.”
I rolled my eyes. I reached for my laptop and woke up the screen, my mind already on the edits that needed to be done.
“Since you are the hot author of the moment, the publisher is assigning you a handler for the tour. Exciting, right?”
“Wait, what the hell is ahandler?”
“Okay, so he’s a bodyguard. Don’t worry, though, it’s just a precaution. A few book influencers have gone a little feral over your interview. Some of the events could be crowded and chaotic. He is mostly there just to look intimidating and keep order. I promise.”
“What? Anastasia, I’ve never had an issue with crazy fans before. Are you thinking I’ll have a fan go allMiseryon me?” Loved that book, but had no desire to be Paul Sheldon meeting his Annie Wilkes.
“You’ve had some weirdos before. This interview will bump that up a notch. We’re not worried about you being kidnapped or anything. Your guard can keep people from wanting you to sign their tits or whatever.”
I snorted a laugh. “I think he’ll be bored.”
“Don’t worry, the publisher is footing the bill, and the guy is supposed to be the best. Discreet and professional.”
I mulled that over for a moment. This didn’t feel real. Surely, no one was that interested in what I had to say. “I don’t need a babysitter, Ana. I admit I can get a little distracted, but I’m not totally naive.”
“Look, it’s out of my hands. This is an opportunity for you to get new fans, meet them, and get them excited about your nextbook. We just can’t risk something happening, that’s all.”
“So this is more of a heads-up than a discussion?”
“Well, the guy has already been hired, so yeah.”
I chewed my lip. “I don’t like this.”
She sighed dramatically. Drama was Anastasia’s bread and butter. “Look, you need character inspiration, and the publisher wants you safe. You can just think of the whole thing as a research exercise. Maybe your next main male character can work in private security.”
I perked up. “Okay, I guess I can do that.”
“Don’t scare him off. Don’t make his life harder. Let him do his thing and just observe like the little people watcher you are.”
She hung up before I could ask any more questions. That was probably for the best. I had to get some edits done, pack for my flight tomorrow, wash my hair, and book a rideshare. Instead, I opened my social media and started scrolling. The first video that came up was a close-up view of a man’s forearms while he lifted weights. The caption read:
