Page 172 of Smoke and Fire
Not that he’d even notice, but whatever.
Outside, growing light crept in from the edge of the horizon, which left the forest steeped in black. I shivered at the creepy effect and pulled my blanket closer around my shoulders. Never had I ever and neverwouldI ever venture into the dark forest all by myself.
Bears. Moose. No thank you.
Another drink of coffee sent a bolstering shock through my system, pulling me a little further out of my sleep haze. I’d turned on every light in the RV to make sure I didn’t fall back asleep. This perpetual lack of rest was going to add up.
Still so worth it,Inner Me sang, luxuriating in the deliciousness of book fourteen’s heart-stopping kiss at the end.
“All right.” I opened the laptop. “Time to get this party started.”
Before I came into his life, Bastian had only posted occasional updates on social media. The haphazard moments when Jess appeared sent fans into wild tizzies.
He’d once posted about a RaiseMoney campaign collecting money for a company that supported special needs Olympics back in April. So many people donated to it with Jess’s subtle nudge that the fundraiser finalized within twelve hours. They even wrote an article on it, thanking her for what she did.
Fortunately, my undeniable talent for the perfect GIF had spruced up his social media accounts in the last week. Not much, or it wouldn’t feel sincere. I’d posted once every other day, responding here and there with appropriate emojis. Try as he might, he couldn’t deny that emojis had as much response power as words, particularly as tiny little visuals.
The posts themselves were easy. I’d haunted emails he sent to Priyanka—apparently she demanded weekly updates—copied some of these words and tweaked them to make sense, then put them up. The fans had gone bonkers. One post garnered 1,000 comments and made me wish I had access to see if sales jumped.
Maybe Bastian didn’t need a constant flow of books. Maybe he just needed to talk to his readers.
When I opened his email, there wasn’t much to see. A few messages from across the ocean written by readers that had already started reading. A store requesting a book signing on his next tour. Notifications from Tweetastic—wait, Jess had a Tweetastic account?—and some vague emails from his publisher that I filed into his label. The social media accounts were a different result entirely.
I scrolled through the growing, burgeoning posts. Some of them were intentional spoiler threads already filling out. Selfies with various versions of the book populated. One woman posted a picture while driving, then talked about the narrator of the audiobook making her cry because she’d waited so long for this novel.
I grabbed my phone to text him.
Dahlia:Your life is bananas.
Not expecting a response, I set the phone aside. Moments later, it buzzed with a notification. I blinked, stared at it, then checked. My heart galloped for a moment when his name appeared.
He responded so soon!
Bastian:The launch is going that good?
Dahlia:You can text this early in the morning?
Bastian:We had to pull off the road to wait for lightning to pass. I have one bar of service.
Dahlia:Then let me update you.
GIF
I sent a GIF of a child rubbing their hands together in a maniacal, menacing way, then typed all my observations in quick-time fashion.
Dahlia:Social media is raging, although the influencers haven’t posted yet. The e-book is spoken about more than the audiobook. Paperbacks have been sent, but no paperback-specific influencer has received them yet, from what I can tell. Emails are sparse. Did you know there’s a Tweetastic account?
Bastian:Oops, forgot. Sorry
Dahlia:You had so many people talking about you there, the page wouldn’t load.
Bastian:GIF
I burst out laughing at the GIF of a blushing little boy that whisperedsorryand crept out of the frame. If Bastian hadn’t had my heart before, his perfect GIF did it now.
Dahlia:Fortunately, I’ve got all day.
Bastian:Don’t you have to work at the Frolicking Moose today?
