A Novel Experience: A Love Between the Pages Novelette Page 4

  “I’m so, so sorry,” I stammered as I attempted to step back from the warmth of his grasp. Truth be told, I’d have gladly stayed encased in arms for the next sixteen hours or so, but I had places to be, not to mention it how inappropriate it would be to wrap myself around a complete stranger and never let go, no matter how strong the urge was.

  “I would say we have to stop meeting like this,” he said, “but I’m finding having you in my arms is a real pleasure. And I’ve never been one to deny myself.”

  My face twisted in disapproval. That was cheesy at best, maybe even a little creepy. Brushing the thought aside, I spoke without thinking, anxious to make it to my seminar.

  “Th-thank you. I’m afraid I’m in a real hurry. Otherwise, I’d do a better job of showing my gratitude for saving me.”

  “It’s okay. I promise you, I’m going to collect on that offer later,” he warned with a seductive smile, making my cheeks flush a deeper shade of scarlet.

  Finally stepping back, I gave him an awkward smile before turning and sprinting to the elevators. The low rumble of his chuckle echoed in my ears. Did he think I was a joke? Cary Elwes had just become Cary Elwass to me.

  I made it to the ballroom reserved for the workshop in the nick of time. Readers were already pouring in, but my co-presenter—and woefully my competition and known frenemy—Alexis Lane was already seated, making apologies for my tardiness. She was a fine writer but wholly self-absorbed. I’d never had a conversation with her that didn’t center on herself whether it be her life, her writing, or whatever she had for her most recent meal. You know the type—smiling angel to the masses, back-biting bitch behind closed doors. According to Caroline, she was beyond jealous, no matter she was also a successful best-seller. We played nice in front of everyone since we wrote in the same genre and were often paired together at these things. People seemed to think we were “besties” or at least wanted to. I’ll tell you though, there was more saccharine between us than a nineteen-seventies diet soft drink.

  “It’s about time you got here,” Alexis hissed to me, her hand over the microphone in front of her on the dais. Fixing me with a delighted look, she continued, “You look a little ragged this morning, Stacy.”

  That was the last thing I needed to hear, and she knew it. Nobody about to make a presentation to a hundred or so people needed to hear they looked like shit, let alone someone as uptight as me.

  “Thanks, Alexis. You’re looking quite… rumpled… yourself,” I snarked back as I slid into my seat.

  “Ah well, you know how these conventions are. If you can’t get laid every night, it’s a waste,” she said with a flick of her wrist as if the sole purpose of her appearances was to add notches to her proverbial belt. After I nearly threw up in my mouth at the idea of her shagging some random she met in the bar, I wondered how her readers would feel if they knew she wasn’t as sweet as her books. No, she was more like a character in the novels you’d find on the other side of the hotel. The erotica authors had their own little niche, far from us, with the steamy contemporary writers wedged in between.

  Despite my phony-baloney company, I managed to forget about my less-than-perfect physical impression and focused on being engaging with the only people in the room who mattered—my fans.

  “Stacy,” a lady in the third row stood up, calling for my attention. She was probably in her mid-forties, had a bad haircut, and what my mother would call a “pleasingly plump” figure. “I absolutely adore your High Road Home series. Ellen is probably my favorite main character of all time! What was your inspiration for her? Are the stories based on your life at all?”

  It was a common question. I’d love to honestly say I’d had the small, hometown upbringing where the boy next door was my one true love even if I had to cross valley and stream to be with him. The sad truth was my life was a lonely one. I might make jokes about not having had a date in ages and being an introvert, but I really did long for someone I could spend the evenings drinking wine and watching bad movies with or tucked up in bed in the dark of the night. That didn’t make for engaging conversations with the readers though, and I’d learned they truly wanted to believe their favorite authors’ stories were based on their lives in some way because then they felt like they were a part of their world.

  “I draw inspiration from nearly anything,” I replied. “Some scenes are inspired by random what if thoughts, others from experiences and situations I’ve found myself in but given a new tilt if that makes sense?”

  A woman with long, jet black hair stood up. She was dressed much flashier—racier even.

  “Tell us what we really want to know. Is your sex life that boring in real life?”

  I gasped. In the years I’d been writing sweet romance, not once had anyone called my love scenes boring. Without thinking, I turned my head to the side to see Alexis smirking at me. I worked my jaw a few times before giving an awkward chuckle.

  “I hate to say it, but Ellen’s sex life is leaps and bounds more interesting than mine has ever been.” It was the truth. Might as well admit it, letting them think it was a joke. A small chuckle went through the crowd. To my surprise, Alexis leaned toward her microphone.

  “We just can’t have that now, can we ladies? I say we drag Miss Stacy over to the darker side of this conference later and show her some of the things she’s missing out on. What do you say?”

  I was even more flabbergasted when a rousing cheer went up. Did my fans read smut? I always imagined them to be the conservative types who didn’t need all that graphic material. Had I been wrong?

  Once again, Alexis covered her mic and leaned toward me to whisper in my ear.

  “Hang onto your white cotton panties, girlfriend. Shit just got real.”

  Thank you for reading my book, whether I am a new-to-you author, or one of your one-click favorites. I’m a reader, just like you, so I know the joys a good book can bring. If you liked this one, please consider leaving a review with your favorite outlets, so other readers might take a chance on me, too. (Plus, I read them all. I really like knowing what you think, what you enjoyed, what you didn’t. It helps me bring more enjoyable content to you!)

  If you do like me, (and I really hope you do!) you can follow me anywhere and everywhere.

  Amazon:

  https://www.amazon.com/Heather-Guimond/e/B017VINKRI

  BookBub:

  https://www.bookbub.com/profile/heather-guimond

  Facebook:

  http://facebook.com/heather.guimond

  Goodreads:

  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14246125.Heather_Guimond

  Instagram:

  https://www.instagram.com/authorheatherguimond/

  To be notified of the release date before anyone else (and for a chance to win an ARC!) sign up for my newsletter at:

  http://heather-rayne.com/heather-g

  Get to know me by joining my Facebook readers group, Heather’s Dirty and Flirty Harlots!

  https://www.facebook.com/groups/DirtyandFlirty/

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  The Novel Approach