Author Anonymous_ A True Story - E.K. Blair Page 0,11
change of clothes and a mist of perfume, we are out the door. The girls are already at the table and waiting for us when we arrive. We drink and gab as only authors do. It’s a lot of gossip and sex talk. Most of these women have loud and strong personalities, so I tend to sit back and take it all in as they go back and forth.
“Congratulations on your last book, Madilyn,” Amy, the author sitting next to me says.
“Thank you.”
“Didn’t it hit the New York Times?”
“Yeah.” I respond excitedly.
“How do you keep the momentum?” she asks, garnering the attention of a few of the other girls at the table.
“I honestly don’t know.”
“What are you working on now?” another author asks me.
“Good question. I’m having a case of writer’s block. I need to find some inspiration, so I’ve been listening to a lot of music, but nothing is sparking.”
The waiter delivers another round of drinks, and as I take a sip of my lemon drop martini, Kristen, another New York Times bestselling author says to the whole group, “You want to know where I go for inspiration?” When eyes turn to her, she sets down her glass of wine and continues. “There’s this fetish website another author told me about.”
“FetLife?” Amy asks.
“That’s the one. Have you been on there?”
Amy nods and a few of the other girls announce they’ve gone on it too.
“I’m seriously the last to know about everything,” I whine in jest. “So what do you do on this website?”
Kristen looks at me from the other end of the table. “It’s kind of like Facebook for the freaky. Don’t get me wrong, there’s light stuff on there as well, but it’s a lot of different people who have various fetishes from polygamy, BDSM, swingers, group sex, voyeurism, foot worship, to adult babies and shit like that.”
“What the fuck is an adult baby?” Brooke asks as I laugh and then take another drink.
“You know, people who wear diapers and act like they’re a baby.”
“People are into that? Like, sexually?” I ask in disbelief.
“It’s a real thing,” Amy confirms. “That site has so much stuff I’ve never even heard of. But you can join groups and message people. I had to do that for one of the books I wrote.”
“The threesome one?”
“Yes. I wound up in a group chat with this triad. They were actually really nice and forthcoming, allowing me to ask questions and stuff.”
“That book was so hot,” I tell her and then turn to Brooke, knowing she doesn’t read any of these books, and boast, “Seriously, you should read it. It was off the charts when it comes to erotica.”
We continue to chat books when our food arrives, and once we are done, Erin suggests we hit up one of the night clubs. Everyone is game, so we hail a cab and make our way to a club filled with some of the hottest people I’ve ever seen. Brooke and I take a couple shots before hitting the dance floor. We dance with each other, dance with random guys, dance with the other girls, all the while laughing, drinking, and living it up until the early hours of the morning.
The sun is on the horizon as we load into a taxi van and head back to our hotel so we can get a few hours of sleep before we have to pack and fly home. With booze on our breath, we all say goodbye until we see each other at the next signing. I spend the next few hours as Madilyn passed out in my bed and then guzzling countless Gatorades in the airport while I hide my bloodshot eyes behind my sunglasses.
“Another awesome Vegas trip.”
I look over to Brooke and smile. “I couldn’t agree more.”
It’s edging close to midnight as I pull the car into the garage. When I grab my luggage from the trunk and head into the house, irritation slaps me across the face the moment I flick on the lights. The girls’ books and art supplies are strewn across the living room, and the kitchen sink is filled with dirty dishes.
Goodbye Madilyn; hello Tori.
A glow peeks under the bottom of my bedroom door, and I do my best to bite against the bitter taste of annoyance as I walk in and see Landon lying in bed, watching television.
“Welcome home,” he says. “How was your trip?”
“Fine,” I snip as I wheel my luggage into the closet.