CHAPTER 17
We enter Earl’s bookstore a month later. I barely recognize it, because all the isles that are usually filled to the brim with books have been pushed aside and chairs fill the room. I cringe when I see a huge blow up with my face and the cover of my book on it. Gil puts a comforting hand on my back, pushing me forward. It’s like an out of body experience to feel this much reluctance to enter this place where I usually feel so at home.
“Come on,” Gil says. “It’ll be over before you know it.”
We decided to have my book launch here instead of in some big city. My publisher tried to fight it, saying that I had to reach as many people as possible, but I went off in a huge Morganologue about the power of the internet and the authenticity of my hometown, and I convinced her to let me have it here.
Earl steps away behind his counter when he sees us coming in and walks over to us with his arms wide open. I get the biggest bear hug there is and gladly return it.
“I’m so proud of you, kiddo,” he beams.
I blush. “Don’t be, it’s the fourth book. It’s not anything new.”
“Oh no, not that, I’ve been proud of you as an author forever. No, today I’m proud of you because you’re going to get some inhabitants of Charlington in this store who I haven’t been able to get in here ever. They just won’t be able to not come and see what this is about, and they’re going to have to get in.”
We all chuckle. Then Earl’s eyes fall on Jonah.
“Like this one.” The smile on the bookstore owner’s face widens while Jonah’s face flushes as he mutters something about different priorities.
When Earl finally lets me go from his embrace, we make our way to the back of the bookstore, where I’ll sit until I’ll read a passage from my book before I do some signing. We mostly expect locals to come in, but I’ve heard that some of the local Bed and Breakfasts have all their rooms booked as well. Morgan Pike, local attraction, putting Charlington on the map.
Good thing they don’t know what I’m up to when I’m visiting Dominium.
“Morgan, baby,” a shrill voice yells. It’s one of my most favorite and least favorite voices of all times. Edith, my publisher, makes her way over. She’s the epitome of a business woman and has an authentic Karen hairdo. I feel sorry for all the nice Karen’s out there, but somehow that’s the name that stuck.
Edith saw my work and signed me on without hesitation, making her my favorite person ever. But she’s also on my ass whenever I slack, making her my least favorite person ever. Her eyes roam over my guys.
“Which one do I blame?” she asks with one squinted eye.
I reluctantly told her I no longer wanted to write romantic novels after this book, but that I wanted to try the reverse harem genre instead. Once I explained what that meant, Edith quickly dubbed the genre to porn books and wasn’t thrilled. Apparently I’m a sure thing, meaning I’m making her a lot of money. Stepping into a new genre? That’s making me a risk. And publishers don’t like risks.
I point my thumb at Gil, and she focuses her predator’s eye on him.
“You made my girl venture into porn?”
“What?” Gil asks in surprise. “What the hell did you tell her?”
I haven’t told the guys about my conversation with her about my change of genre. For a second I contemplate fucking with Gil and telling him I’m changing my career into making adult movies, but chicken out at the last moment.
“I told her I want to write a reverse harem after this.”
Gil’s shoulders relax.
“And now I have to broaden my publishing horizons and see how I’m going to get an audience for those kinds of books. How are we marketing this? Where do I find a good editor? Do we make deals with companies in the sex trade? Get you personalized vibrators that match the characters of the books?”
Edith takes off in a tirade that makes me laugh. I haven’t even written a word yet and she’s already trying to sell it. God, I love that woman. She takes us to the back while she keeps rambling the whole way through.
I look up in surprise to see Miss Frieda and Miss Patterson already sitting in the front row, both with their knitting work out. The store hasn’t opened to the public yet, so I raise a brow in question when Edith takes us past them.
“Frieda has an understanding with Earl, dear,” Miss Patterson says without the ticking of her needles missing a beat.
Miss Frieda raises her brows suggestively. “We asked him to come in early and I promised to stop hitting on him.”
Dean laughs. “Should I feel offended or flattered she used the same strategy with me?” he asks.
“Let’s go with flattered,” I answer as I pat his arm.
Edith is still going on and on about opening cans of horny housewives to read my newest best seller as I eye the other side of the front row. There’s some seats reserved for Meggy and Kellan, and Shelby and Stan. The guys are staying in the back with me, because I still get stage fright, and I feel better knowing they’re close.