Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 153946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Part of me wished I could have seen it. The other part was just happy I was finally able to hold Warrior I without falling over.
I studied my face in the mirror. Thanks to Bernie’s torture sessions and my hours at the icehouse, I’d lost ten pounds and felt stronger than I had in years. I looked better too.
Closing my eyes, I zoned out for a little while, loving the feel of fingers tugging at my hair.
Then Bernie said, “Romance novel? I thought she was finishing a book in her fantasy series.”
I gasped but managed to keep from turning my head (I didn’t want those scissors taking a tragic detour), glaring at Chick’s reflection. “Why would you tell her about that?”
“Why wouldn’t you?” Bernie countered. “You know those are my guilty pleasure.”
“I thought chili fries were your guilty pleasure.” Bernie gave off heroine vibes. The kind of heroine who was way too busy scaling mountains and dating twenty-something strippers to read about someone else doing those things.
Tony patted my shoulder. “I love them too. They’re my weakness.”
Chick gifted him with his Hollywood grin. “I’ve been going through them as fast as I can order them lately. But August’s is still my favorite.”
He’d started reading them in order to properly critique mine, but he’d quickly become an addict. Now that I’d finished writing, he had a list of them for me to read so we could discuss them. “Which is why she has cover art waiting in her email and a copy is with my favorite editor as we speak.”
“What?!” I squawked, causing several heads to turn in our direction. “Sorry.”
“It’s a great book, August. Your contract is fulfilled, and it said nothing about owning the rights to your work from a different genre,” he told me. “I’ve read it and it’s thankfully very specific. I think you should self-publish ASAP. But tell me to butt out and I won’t push again.”
It was a good idea in theory. It would save me from the endless void of what-happens-next I tended to fall into while waiting for copy edits and a publishing date. But self-publishing would mean releasing without a net. Doing my own advertising. My own promotion. Tooting my own horn.
I was horrible at all of that. I loved talking to my readers and giving away books, T-shirts and e-readers. But the actual hustle needed to sell books? That was not my forte.
“I can’t believe I’m cutting an author’s hair,” Tony said with a bemused smile as he snipped away. “I used to spend weekends with my Nonny when I was in high school, practicing on her curls and reading her romance books. She loved Scottish highlanders.”
“At nineteen I started reading Nora Roberts,” Bernie confided. “That woman helped me redecorate my old house and learn to cook.”
I stared at her reflection. “Nora Roberts taught you to cook?”
I’d seen her at a few conventions, and she’d never even said hello to me.
“Her books did. Fully half of every book she writes is filled with people preparing food while discussing how to fight a big bad,” she informed us with a grin. “Or decorating houses and painting cabinetry while being stalked by serial killers. It was all so detailed and interesting, and of course, sprinkled with small bursts of sex, usually with the woman on top. As she should be.”
“She does give great mystery,” I conceded, because who hadn’t read Nora? “I was never any good at that. And my story is nothing like her work, B.”
Chick nodded. “That’s true. Less decorating and cooking. Bigger bursts of sex in multiple positions.”
“I like the sound of that,” Tony murmured, sending an interested grin in Bernie’s direction. Or Chick’s. From my vantage point it was hard to tell.
But Bernie definitely looked more intrigued instead of less. “I may have started with Nora, but I’m currently into the kinkier end of the spectrum. Lots of motorcycle bad boys and hockey players. One series I stumbled onto was a free read about farmers in Nebraska, of all places, having BDSM threesomes. So dirty. I ate that up like candy.”
“Nebraska, you say? I’ve always wanted to go there,” Chick said with a wide smile. “But August is right that this might not be your cuppa. It was inspired by a tall, gorgeous family man who works on cars, appreciates strong women and is so together he’s the definition of competence porn. It’s hot as a wildfire and funny as hell but…”
“But I don’t want to read about my brother. I hear you. Doesn’t mean I can’t tell all my friends and students about it when it’s published. He might get a lot of new female business at the garage.”
I didn’t like the sound of that.
Tony set aside his scissors and turned my chair around to face him. “Time for styling,” he said, bringing a few bottles over to his tray. “You wrote a romance about her brother? Color me intrigued. Do you have a pen name and are you going to put it on BookTok? If so, I’ll share it.”