Page 1 of Going Viral for Christmas
One
AVA
You know what’s trending right now? My downfall.
Sponsored by pacing issues, heatless handjobs, and one very dramatic ShelfSpacer with editing software.
Recent Goodreads reviews include:
Cringe writing.
Painfully boring.
Flat characters.
And a third-act sex scene so anatomically confusing that someone made a diagram. With arrows. Labels. A red circle that read,“This is not where the clitoris lives.”
So yeah, I’m a little on edge.
My latest book,The Boyfriend Deadline,was supposed to be my swing at the big list. Instead, I overshot the heat and landed in humiliation instead. It’s flopping in real time—memed, mocked, and massacred—by readers who think my heroine deserves jail time for her metaphor choices.
In the cruelest twist of irony, I’m expected to smile through a live panel today with fantasy’s favorite weapon-wielding himbo, Soren “The Blade”Pembry.
Apparently, the internet isn’t satisfied with mocking the Queen of Steam’s latest disaster. It wants a front-row seat to my public execution.
No pressure.
Renata—my publicist and resident sadist—calls being here a“relatability rebrand.”She swears the solution isn’t another aesthetic reel or annotated-edge giveaway, but me getting “authentic.” Reader intimacy. Real-time charm.
So, here I am atThe Great Booksgiving Festival.AKA a hotel ballroom with pumpkin towers leaning like Pisa, lo-fi remixes of “thank u, next” by Ariana Grande, and a rogue turkey mascot gyrating in slow motion. It’s like someone gave a former sorority social chair a corporate Amex and a line of cocaine, then shouted,“Make it festive.”
One more maple-spice latte and I’ll combust.
A squeal detonates across the room. I flinch, sloshing foam on my wrist, then turn.
Thereheis.
Soren Pembry.
My viral rival.
Six feet of swagger in leather boots and a face that makes readers forgive war crimes. A long, gleaming sword hangs at his hip—because subtlety died with chivalry.
The crowd parts like he’s biblical. He signs books, kneels for selfies, probably cures seasonal depression with a single wink, all while blessing the people with his cheekbones.
A cluster of women inDagger Daddy Fanclubtees swarm him with their glitter pens and questionable boundaries. One of them hands over her chest as though she’s offering up real estate. Soren signs his name across her skin with a smile that could power a small city. The turkey mascot nearly face-plants trying to watch.
Jesus!These people treat him like he’s a collectible action figure with limited shelf availability with an NSFW accessories pack.
Can’t say I blame them. On-screen, he’s hot. In person, he’s gravitational. Pure filth and fantasy. A morally gray villain who smirks from the shadows—a little dangerous, a whole lot cocky, and swoony enough to make you forget he poisoned a village three chapters ago.
I must say, I wasn’t prepared for this level of attractiveness. He’s clearly winning.
The crowd.
The algorithm.
The vibe.
