“Why someday?”
“Because… well, I don’t know anything about self-publishing.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
I stared at her, part of me excited, but the other part trying to stay grounded. “I don’t think my story’s ready.”
“Brad does,” she said simply.
“He read the whole thing?”
“Yes. He says the central romance is well developed, but there are some parts that need to be strengthened. He had some suggestions—I’ll forward you his email.”
I felt like I was several steps behind this fast-talking woman who seemed to expect me to move ahead at a lightning pace. “Okay, I’ll work on that, and then at some point, I’ll have to find an editor, right?”
Ronnie tapped her red nails on the table. “Not ‘at some point.’ Soon. This isn’t traditional publishing where you submit your manuscript and you might hear back from an agent or editor by the time the next solar eclipse rolls around. Self-publishers write fast, put their book together quickly, and get it up online so people can buy it. I was under the impression that you don’t have a job right now.”
Ouch. “No, but I’m looking.” Knots formed in my stomach when I thought about how my current living arrangement might look to her. “Tonio, Knox, and the twins have been really generous, but I want to pay my own way. I wouldn’t want you to think that I’m taking advantage of them.”
Ronnie shook her head, dismissing that. “I don’t interfere in how my brother lives his life, and he sure as hell had better not interfere in the way I live mine.”
Her strong words made me grin. I could just picture her and Tonio calling each other by their full first names and bickering like the twins often do. To my surprise, Ronnie smiled, too.
Then her smile faded. “To be clear, there’s no guarantee you’ll make a profit with the first book or even the first few. But being an indie author means you write, publish, and repeat. There’s no sense in tweaking a book for years. You make it as good as you can and you get it up online.”
“On Amazon?”
“There, and other places, if you like. If you really worked hard, I bet you could have it up for sale by the end of the month.”
“But that’s in just over two weeks,” I protested.
“The cover’s going to take the most time. And you’ll need to go through Brad’s suggestions and then get it proofread.”
“I don’t know how to do all those things.”
“You’ll learn. Everyone needs help at first.”
This was all happening so fast. “Are you sure you want to help? You don’t even know me.”
She looked at me for a moment before continuing. “Don’t tell him this, but I’d do pretty much anything for my brother. And it seems he’d do pretty much anything for you, so yes, I’ll help.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t know it, but I was thanking her both for agreeing to help me and for what she’d said about Tonio and me.
She nodded. “You’re probably going to need more than just my help, though.”
“I don’t know any other authors.”
“You need a team to help you, but they don’t have to be writers themselves. Someone’s got to do the grunt work.” She grinned, and I couldn’t help smiling back.
“Like who?”
She gestured toward the building behind us. “There’s a very large man in there who seems very happy with you tonight. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile that much.” She paused for a moment. “Actually, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him smile at all.”
“He’s a sweet man.”
Ronnie stared at me in astonishment. “Tonio said you were the Knox Whisperer… I guess it must be true. It seems like you’ve got them all eating out of the palm of your hand, and that’s good. You’re going to need their help.”
I squirmed in my seat, worried again that Ronnie might think I was taking advantage of the guys. But her no-nonsense attitude about self-publishing was exciting. Could I really have a book out in a matter of weeks? There seemed like only one way to find out. “What all do I—we—need to do?”
“Let’s make a list.”
18
Emma
“Did you enjoy the party?” I asked Knox as he moved around his room, getting ready for bed. The others had insisted that I stay with him tonight, even though I had a few nights ago.
“Best birthday ever.”
“Really?” I was perched on the edge of his huge bed, already wearing the big t-shirt I liked to sleep in.
He nodded, unbuttoning his shirt. “Didn’t get to celebrate much in foster homes. Maybe a special dinner if they remembered.” He pulled off his shirt to reveal the huge muscles barely contained by his white undershirt. He looked hot, but more than that, he looked steady. Solid as a rock. As if his past experiences had made him unflappable. When I was with Knox, I felt a stability I’d never felt before. He always made me feel safe even if I hadn’t been aware of feeling unsafe.