That didn’t say much—it was still early in Minneapolis.
She let out a breath, shoulders easing, and opened her other email, her writing one. The one that contained nice things like book signings, and fan mail, and...
An email from her publisher.
Her stomach dropped when she saw the subject line. She’d known it would come. She’d just...hoped for later.
From: Miranda Henson
Subject: Book 2 progress check-in
Hi Emma,
I know you’re at SDCC, but just checking in on those new chapters for the sequel you promised by the end of last week. Everyone’s dying to see what happens next with Lucen and Catlyn. No pressure (except, well, a little). Let me know if you need anything!
Miranda
Emma sighed. She’d lost count of the times Miranda had emphasized that right now, she hadmomentumand needed to build on it.
The “otherwise” was always unspoken, but she felt it lurking at the edges. If book two didn’t materialize soon, all that heat around her name could cool down fast.
She had a sinking suspicion that the real reason Miranda had pushed to get her to Comic-Con—with her PR manager in tow, no less—was to keep that spark alive a little longer. To buy her time she wasn’t sure she’d earned.
She closed the email, marking it unread. At least the tone was still light and friendly.
It wasn’t like her to fall behind, whether in her day job or on her writing deadlines. But lately, the cursor kept mocking her on the empty page. Even when she tried forcing herself through, the words came out flat, trite, cliché.
Her synopsis was done, every turn for Catlyn and Lucen mapped out. So why wouldn’t the damn magic just unfold?
Well, it would have to wait a bit longer.
She exhaled and turned her head to the window, watching the city slide by. Glass buildings, palm trees, and wherever she looked, Comic-Con had swallowed the city whole.
Banners stretched across intersections and every single billboard promoted film trailers or upcoming events. Even the cab driver had a Deadpool bobblehead stuck to his dashboard.
Outside a 7-Eleven, a haphazard group of cosplayers sipped their morning coffee: a Sailor Moon, a Wednesday Addams, and the Predator, his helmet tucked under his arm.
Emma couldn’t help it—a silly grin spread over her face.
She was really there.
And the realization hit like a jolt of electricity—so was he.
She instinctively opened Instagram, and there it was again: a fan edit of Darren Cole as Lucen. She’d first seen it last week, less than an hour after the announcement thatThe Bonds of Lightwas officially in development at Netflix.
The limited series deal was so fresh that the ink had barely dried, including Emma’s shiny new executive producer title Leah had all but bullied her into demanding.
Nothing was greenlit yet, but still. If all went well, her story might actually be brought to the screen. She still couldn’t quite believe it.
This version of the edit had new audio: a low, haunting cello riff laid over slow-motion footage of Darren turning, shadows catching on his jaw like they worshipped him.
The text overlay read Lucen’s unofficial tagline:He is the villain. He is the love story.
Emma swallowed.
She recognized the clip. It was fromMidnight Dominion, Darren’s early breakout role as Sebastian Vale—the cunning, exiled prince of a gothic fantasy kingdom.
The role had turned him into a YA icon and had made Emma swoon through countless late-night study breaks back in her tiny dorm room.
