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I follow his gaze to a table that’s apparently very popular with readers. The author’s covers all show a human woman in the embrace of a green-skinned orc.

“Isn’t it self-explanatory? I’ve actually never read a monster romance before, but maybe I should. After all, the first dick I ever saw was green—and monster-sized.”

Lewis smiles cockily and puffs out his chest. “Well, the colour may have been from the condom, but the size? All me.”

When a nearby group of attendees burst into giggles, I realise we weren’t speaking as quietly as we should have. Thankfully, they’re not offended in the slightest, but Lewis’s cheeks redden.

He rubs the back of his neck, his cockiness melting into a sheepish grin. “Sorry. Guess I need to work on my indoor voice.”

Being one of the few men here, he attracts a lot of attention. As we continue around the hall, he receives admiring glances from more than a few readers, as well as from a number of authors. I don’t know what impresses them more—the way he looks or the way he carries my books for me without so much as a peep of complaint.

The rucksack soon fills up, so I have to deposit new purchases straight into his arms. Finally I understand his obsession with the gym. Clearly, all his efforts over the last six years have been leading up to this moment. He’s needed the strength so he can lug around a crazy number of romance books for me.

We spend a full hour going around the first room before moving on to the second. I’m not sure how many rooms there are, but we’re still just on the ground floor. The event goes on until five, and I think it’s safe to say we’ll be spending the whole day here.

In the new hall, I do an initial check of author names to see if there are any that catch my eye. Oh aye, there are a few people here I really like. This is great. But then I catch sight of a certain name, and it’s like the world stops. I can’t quite believe what I’m seeing. My heart flutters, and I feel a little weak in the knees. I grab a hold of Lewis’s arm to steady myself.

Wow, he really has put on a lot of muscle over the years—but no, I can’t think about that right now. Because . . .

“Lewis,” I say, breathing heavily, “is that . . . who I think it is?”

At a table nearby are the words aurora mckenna.

I squeeze Lewis’s arm even tighter. “Is the author of the Highland Hearts and Hidden Treasures series really here? Oh God, I think I might faint.”

I always thought it a little silly when, in a certain type of historical romance, the heroine fainted. Now I realise it’s an entirely reasonable response to intense emotion.

“Don’t go fainting,” Lewis says. “If you do, I’ll have to drop all these brand-new novels to catch you.”

“You’re right.” I nod bravely. “I’ll pull myself together. For the sake of the books.”

There’s quite the queue at Aurora’s table, as I’d expect, but the nice thing about that is I get to chat with other fans while we wait. And the more we all fangirl over how much we utterly adore her, the more excited we all become about finally meeting her.

By the time I make it to the front, I’m so buzzing with energy I don’t know where to begin. Words fail me. Eventually I blurt, “May I shake your hand?”

Aurora smiles kindly, her emerald-green eyes sparkling. “Of course, sweetie.”

Eagerly I reach out and clasp her. “It’s no exaggeration to say that this is the single greatest honour of my life,” I gush.

She lets out a rich, warm laugh. “Oh, that’s such a lovely thing to hear. It’s an honour for me to meet such a passionate reader.”

Although many of her books are set in Scotland, she’s American, and her voice has a smooth, melodic quality that draws me in.

While I’ve been starstruck, Lewis has got Rival Clans, Secret Riches out of his rucksack. He passes it to me to present to Aurora.

“Would you mind signing this for me?” I say.

“I’d love to.”

She raises her pen, and I desperately try to think of something to say, but my brain is empty. What’s wrong with me? There are so many things I’d like to ask her. I blurt out the only thing that comes to mind before really thinking it through.

“My boyfriend and I once acted out a scene from that book.” I gulp and then, for some odd reason, continue rather than shutting up. “The one where Eilidh tends to Douglas’s wounds by the campfire . . .”

For the second time since arriving, Lewis’s cheeks flush red. On this occasion, mine do too.

But Aurora just chuckles. “Did you now?”

My embarrassment is short-lived because I notice a pile of books on the table, and I can’t quite believe what I’m seeing. “Is that a new story in the Highland Hearts and Hidden Treasures series? I thought you wrapped up that series years ago?”