@Darkromanceforlife2025: Bang, Bang! was mid tbh
@Spicyromancereader101: Has anyone tagged @tia_amboro_author? Did you see this? You’re being accused of being a man and using AI to write your book. The world is so messed up!
@TechbroSiliconvalley: Didn’t know romance books were this lucrative #AIAuthorHereICome
@Pinkspinesandporucpines: I love Harper’s reviews, but… she gets paid for them? How can we trust anything she says? #shocked
4
2 DAYS LATER
@CalebFitandFierce: statement posted to Instagram stories 11.57p.m.
Hey FitFam,
I want to take a moment to address the situation that unfolded a couple of days ago with @harpersbookhaven. As you know I spent last month spearheading a campaign in the hopes of eradicating online bullying; hey, we all gotta start somewhere, right? We can’t stamp out bullies unless we’re all on the same page and change takes time. In saying that, I want to make it clear I don’t condone Harper’s actions. This incident has highlighted that Harper’s core values don’t align with mine, which is why I’ve decided to end our relationship. I wish Harper all the best and hope she can reflect on her mistakes and grow from this experience. Please, let’s not spread the hate – Harper’s a good person who’s lost her way. I urge all my fans to buy a copy of Bang, Bang! to support author Tia, who I’m sure is feeling hurt right now. Let’s turn a negative into a positive, and who doesn’t love a good cowboy romance?!
Peace, love and kettlebell swings. Caleb.
5
‘Kettlebell swings? Peace, love and kettlebell swings?’ Lily scoffs as she hands me a cup of Earl Grey tea and plonks on the other side of bed. She’s dressed and ready for work while I’m wearing a ratty set of pjs that have become a second skin since I took to my bed to hide three interminable days ago. ‘I can’t believe he had the gall to tag you in the story. He’s the bully here.’
I stretch, trying hard not to weep. ‘Yep. His Instagram story is being shared at a galactic pace.’ I don’t tell Lily I didn’t get a wink of sleep after I got the notification around midnight. I rearrange my expression from hurt to stoic to try and fool her that all is well when really, I want to curl into a ball and howl.
She gives my leg a supportive pat. ‘People love drama. They’re his followers sharing it anyway, not yours.’
From the inside, it looks like the entire internet is against me, but I’ve had support from my friends in the book community, it’s just their voices aren’t as loud as the trolls.
‘His breakup post didn’t even make it to the grid. Caleb clearly doesn’t want his follower count to suffer the same fate as mine.’ It hurts, but what can I do? That’s the alpha male mentality for you: when things get hard – disappear. ‘He’s completely ghosted me. The guy isn’t answering my calls, texts or carrier pigeons.’ The sting of that compounded by the online fallout is a lot to handle. Why do I always pick the wrong sort of guy? Are cinnamon roll heroes just fodder for books? The men I tend to meet are dominant, assertive and emotionally unavailable; here we have Caleb, case in point.
I can’t help but remember the mysterious island bookshop reel I landed on a few weeks ago. I bet life is simpler there, with only the sea breeze and incoming tide to contend with, and maybe a tipsy cocktail-swilling holidaymaker or two…
Lily moves to open the curtains. I squint against the sudden brightness. ‘I’m sorry, Harper. God, he’s a dud. And if this is the way he ends relationships then you’ve dodged a bullet, don’t you think?’
I manage a tiny nod, roiling in my terrible taste in men.
‘Whoever reads his drivel – kettlebell swings, urgh – are just as awful. Are you OK, though? This is a lot, all at once.’ Lily’s eyes are wide with sorrow. My attempts at appearing stoic mustn’t be very convincing. I’m blindsided by Caleb’s callousness; even though our relationship is – was – in its infancy, it felt like we had the makings of something special.
‘Yeah. I’m OK.’ I give her a wobbly smile as my composure cracks. ‘It’s just so humiliating being dumped on Instagram stories. Then there’s the fallout from the live. My life is an actual dumpster fire and it’s all my fault.’
Lily gives me a sad smile. ‘Your Bookstagram page will recover, right? People have short memories.’
My Bookstagram collabs pay for a chunk of my living expenses, so it’s a real concern the snafu I made has already had a direct impact, with followers leaving in droves which I’m sure will have a domino effect on future paid promos. I fumble for my phone and swipe it open, bracing myself for impact.
‘My follower count has tanked.’ My chest tightens as I scroll through notifications. The nasty comments aren’t from the book community but rather from vultures enjoying the juicy nature of a stranger’s downfall. It only gets worse as I read one vitriolic message after another.
There’s been a huge spate of unfollows, and those are bookish types. They don’t want to be associated with someone accusing a debut author of such a heinous thing, and I get that. ‘It’s being called #BangBangGate. Strangers are sharing fabricated interactions with me, painting me as this horrifically catty backstabber. Should I call them out for lying?’ As I read these fictions, they grow increasingly absurd. ‘Apparently I trashed a bookshop once!’
‘What! No, God, no, don’t engage.’ Lily’s voice rises. ‘Any denials your end will only exacerbate the situation and gain more attention from trolls?—’
‘Who, by the look of their profile pictures, are mostly middle-aged men.’
‘That tracks.’ Lily gives me a knowing nod. ‘Basement dwellers. Look, it’ll blow over. These things always do. You’ll be in the doghouse for a while, and then you’ll bounce back.’
I check my emails. More bad news. ‘When it rains, it pours.’ I choke back a sob. ‘My brand ambassador partnerships and upcoming promotional posts have been cancelled. All of them.’ To be expected, when you’ve made accusations like I have. ‘Thank God I’ve got my job at the bookshop. At least that’ll keep the wolf from the door until I fix this.’
If it even is fixable, that is.
