Page 72 of Royal Charmer
Once tea ends, the tables are cleared, and I go up to the head table with Sarah and Lauren. Sarah is American; Lauren is British. There’s a podium with a microphone at the end of the table for our reading.
“I’m so nervous,” Sarah whispers. “Why do I have to go first!”
“I’d trade places with you,” Lauren says in a low voice, “but I don’t want to go first either.”
I’m supposed to go last because most of the readers are here for me, and the publisher wants them to give these new authors a chance with their full attention. “I was nervous my first time too,” I whisper. “Just remember it’s not about you. It’s about your characters, and the readers want to hear what they’re up to.”
“That’s a good way to think of it,” Sarah says. “Did I mention my girl crush on you, or should I say author crush?”
I laugh. “Yes.” Earlier, Sarah asked me to sign her Alice Segal books and gushed over me. I’ve done the same with favorite authors, so I totally get the excitement. “And now that I have your books, I can’t wait to read them,” I say to them both. “Just as soon as I’m past my deadline.”
Sarah grabs my arm. “Oh my God, I have my first deadline. I’m so stressed. It took me five years to write my first book. How do you deal with the pressure?”
A voice at the podium catches my attention. It’s the publicist from our publisher welcoming everyone.
“Email me,” I whisper to Sarah. “Always happy to talk shop.” Lauren gestures to herself, and I nod. “You too.”
After the publicist introduces Sarah, I listen to her read a long excerpt from her story. Her voice is breathy, and she stops a few times to sip water, but she gets through it without passing out. I’m not saying I passed out at my first reading, just that I was a little light-headed.
Polite applause rings out, and she takes her seat, guzzling down the rest of her water. Lauren goes next, and her voice is fairly strong, so I return my attention to my book. I’m going to read an excerpt fromThe Duke’s Dare. I love to read the first groveling scene out loud because it’s funny, since the duke has never had to do anything so undignified before. Last time I was here I read from my more recent bookThe Viscount’s Victorysince it was a new release.
Lauren finishes and promptly sits down. I listen as the publicist introduces me, and try not to squirm. It’s weird to hear someone talking about you when you’re right there, especially if it’s in gushing publicist speak.
I stand once she finishes, and the applause is deafening. I smile and head over to the microphone. “Wow. Thank you. All I had to do was stand and you ladies gave me a rousing round of applause. Guess I can go now.” I fake heading back to my seat, stop, and shake my head. Everyone laughs.
I return to the microphone. “Seriously, thank you very much for the warm welcome. This has been such a wonderful experience with the high tea and meeting all of you and my new friends, Sarah and Lauren too. Weren’t they wonderful? I can’t wait to read their books. Definitely check them out after this and get them to sign your copy.”
Sarah and Lauren beam at me, and I smile. I had plenty of support from more experienced authors when I was starting out and love paying it forward.
I hold upThe Duke’s Dare. “I’m going to read one of my favorite scenes for you. Can you guess which one?”
“Is it sexy?” someone hollers.
I laugh. “I think it’s best if you read those scenes without hearing my voice in your head. Better to hear the duke’s silky voice.” I tuck my hair behind my ear, blushing even though I’m the one who wrote it. “I’ll just get to it.” I open the book and begin to read:
“Of course I should like to accompany you shopping.” His voice lowers to a silky purr. “After all, it was my fault your ribbon was misplaced.”
“Misplaced? You probably tied it to your bedpost as a souvenir!”
“He sounds like another scoundrel!” a masculine voice booms, startling me.
My head jerks up, and I gasp, my heart racing.
Several women whisper loudly, “Prince Lucas.”
All eyes turn to him standing in the middle of the ballroom dressed in a light blue dress shirt and gray tailored pants. His hair is rumpled like he ran his fingers through it, the only sign of possible distress over our fight and breakup this morning. I can’t believe he’s here.
“Please continue,” he says casually as if he isn’t the only man standing in a room full of women romance readers.
His eyes belie his casualness, locked on mine in an intense fierce gaze. I gulp. Is he going to make a scene? He’s already making a scene!
When I remain frozen in place, he goes on, still in his weirdly casual tone. “I know this story. The scoundrel fares very well, doesn’t he?”
“Please sit down, sir,” I say, adding politeness to the casual game and a dose ofI don’t know this man.
“Yes, ma’am,” he says in feigned deference and sits on top of a nearby table. His guards shift closer to the table.
I smooth a shaky hand through my hair, desperately trying to get back on track. “Sorry. Where was I?” The words blur in front of my eyes, and I blink them back into focus. “I’ll just begin again.” I take a deep breath and begin to read, my voice not entirely steady.
