Page 11 of Myths and Manuscripts
“Wait.” I threw an arm out toward him. “Do you actually read romance novels?”
He shrugged, taking a small sip of the cocoa Mochi had given him a half hour ago. “A few. There was only so much to do in an empty library for months.”
The image of him reading fluffy romances hidden away in his corner of the library made me laugh. It felt good to laugh and forget about my own book for a moment.
“So what kind do you like?” I leaned forward on my elbows. “Sweet romances with lots of fluff or dark romances where the villain gets the girl?”
His eyes widened. “There are romances about villains?”
“So, so many,” I said with a grin. “Actually, you’re kind of like some of them. A shadow daddy in the flesh.”
He choked on his cocoa, sputtering. “What in the nine realms is a shadow daddy?”
I scooted closer, as if I was telling him some big secret. “Well, it’s basically a guy who’s dark and mysterious. And he has control over shadows, of course.” I nodded at the shadows suddenly flitting around him. “Usually, he’s morally gray or astraight up villain withtouch her and you dievibes that are extremely sexy.”
A tiny blush swept across his face. “And you thinkI’mone of these...shadow daddies?”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the awkward way he said it, like the words were something completely ridiculous.
“Definitely, you’re the biggest shadow daddy I’ve ever met.”
He drank his cocoa slowly, avoiding eye contact until, eventually, he mumbled, “thank you.”
My stomach fluttered. That sincerity of his always caught me off guard.
“Anytime.” I downed the rest of my cocoa in one big gulp. “Now, back to my book. Thanks for reading it, but I think I’ve got the picture.”
“I don’t think you understand anything. I liked your story. Truly.”
I reached for my book, but his shadows curled around it possessively. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. “You were supposed to be honest, remember? The whole you’re not my friend or my family thing?”
“You really haven’t been listening, have you?” He picked up my book, holding it like it was something precious. “I said Ilikeyour book. It needs some work, sure, but the bones are good. You just need to stop holding back and let your emotions flow.”
I blinked at him, staring at his ashen gray skin and dark purple eyes. He was from a book, so he should know what made a story good. I’d let him read it for a reason, so if I was just going to ignore everything he said, what was the point?
“So you… you actually liked it?” I whispered. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”
He raised an eyebrow, giving me his trusty are-you-an-idiot look. “I said I liked it. Honestly, I liked it so much I was going to ask you to write the last book in my series too, but if this is howyou respond to compliments maybe I shouldn’t.”
“Wait, what?” I clenched my empty cocoa mug tight. “Do you realize how famous your series is? Everyone’s been waiting for that final book for years. There’s no way a no-name like me could do it justice.”
“There’s a contest going on right now and anyone can join.” He gave me a blank stare. “Even no-names like you.”
“That’s not really the issue here. People not liking my book is one thing, since I’m the only one who really cares about that, but messing up your series? Oh boy would that suck. Thousands, no, hundreds of thousands of fans would be knocking down my door ready to tell me what a bad job I did.”
And the pain of that massive failure would eat me alive. It had already hurt so much hearing that the story gods didn’t like my book, so I couldn’t imagine hearing that from thousands of people at once. Even if they said it in a polite way, it would still hurt like daggers in my chest. Why would I risk that? I bit my lip as the Demon Lord patiently waited for me to calm down. He was the one I’d really hurt if I messed up that final book, and I especially didn’t want to disappoint him.
“I’d probably just mess it up.” I glanced away from the surprisingly kind gaze of his. “I’m too new to this writing thing, and you said it yourself: my book lacks emotion. So what if I ruined your ending?”
He sighed. “I’m worried that’s what everyone else is going to do. All anyone’s talked about is the big battle between me and the hero. They just assume I’m going to get killed off so the golden boy can be victorious, but nobody seems to care about me or my side of the story.”
Sadness tinged his words, real enough that I caught myself looking at him again. Worry lines creased his forehead and his lips were tight. Now that I’d met him, and gotten to know him a bit, that kind of ending didn’t feel right for his story.
“So you want the hero to lose?” I asked.
“No, it’s his book, so the hero has to win, but I don’t want to be just a stepping stone to his victory. I want to be a mountain standing in his way.” He glanced up at me. “That kind of ending is something only a writer with a unique voice like you could pull off.”
Suddenly, the word unique sounded like high praise instead of the insult I thought it was earlier. He’d put a lot of thought into this and was trusting me to give him the kind of ending he deserved, instead of just letting the hero defeat him in the classic good vs evil showdown.
