Page 17 of Going Viral for Christmas
“Oh?” he challenges. “What might that be?”
“That emotional stakes matter. That sexual tension doesn’t need to be buried under fifty chapters of Elvish prophecy.”
“Ouch,” he muses. “That hit harder than my MMC’s betrayal in theCourt of Thirst and Thorns.”
“Time for a few rapid-fire questions,” Shirley announces, shuffling through the pages on her clipboard. “First up—favorite writing snack?”
Soren:“Whiskey and Goldfish.”
Me:“Trader Joe’s peppermint bark and caramel blondie latte.”
“Writing music?”
Me:“Phoebe Bridgers–haunting lyrics, soft emotional destruction.
Soren:“War drums. And occasionally Hozier.”
“Your characters are trapped in a cabin during a snowstorm. Who confesses their love first?”
Me:“The woman, because she’s emotionally mature.”
Soren:“The man, because she threatened to stab him with a candy cane.”
“Enemies to lovers or friends to lovers?”
Me:“Friends. With unresolved tension.”
Soren:“Enemies. With knives and one bed.”
“What’s your most-used word during a sex scene?”
Me:“Clit.”
Soren:“It’s ‘moan.’ Followed closely by ‘thrust.’”
“Last one!” Shirley says eagerly. “What do you think your co-panelist’s most quirky habit is?”
Me:“Soren treats his swords like they’re pets. Probably snuggles them.”
Soren:“Of course I do. They have feelings, Ava.
“And Soren, what do you think Ava’s might be?”
“I bet she uses oversized mugs for her coffee. Probably has animal shaped ones, possibly one that’s a Highland cow.”
The audience howls. Shirley wipes away tears of laughter.
My skin heats under the weight of Soren’s attention on me. Then—damn it—there it is. A flash of charged eye contact. His smile loses its bite, and a gentler, more intimate expression blooms in its place.
Soren’s tongue flicks across his bottom lip, and my entire body commits treason.
My core clenches, trying to send a flare signal. The bees in my stomach? Yeah, not anxiety.Desire.
How dare my libido clock in after sitting dormant for so long. And forhimof all people? I blame the drought. I haven’t… You know… done anything in awhile.
Soren Pembry—with his carved-by-chaos cheekbones and perfectly trimmed facial hair—is thelastperson I should be reacting to inthisway.
Yet, here I am, one smolder away from applying to hisDagger Daddy Fanclub.
