Author Anonymous_ A True Story - E.K. Blair Page 0,9
organize the books that fans preordered. We bundle them, slap sticky notes with names on them onto the covers, and check them off the spreadsheet. We then verify the boxes filled with the swag she purchased: bookmarks, bracelets, magnets, and everything else readers gravitate to.
A knock on our door pulls me away from the pile of books surrounding us on the floor, and when I open it, I’m thrilled to see my friend, Erin, another author who will be attending this event.
We squeal and hug like giddy schoolgirls. When I started in this line of work, my friends faded away and I cemented myself to other authors. Writing is a very isolating job. When I’m deep in the writing process, I tend to shut everyone out. Most of my friends took it personally, but it wasn’t intentional on my part. It was just a gradual drift. Now, the majority of my friends are other authors, because we totally understand the lifestyle and are much more forgiving than those outside of this “sorority.” The one downside: the only time we get to see each other is if we happen to be at the same book signing.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Madilyn,” Erin says as we break our hug. We all address each other by our pen names. I know Erin’s real name, but never once have I thought about actually referring to her by anything other than her pseudonym. It’s an unspoken respect we authors give one another.
Erin turns to Brooke to share an embrace as well. Brooke has been with me since day one. There isn’t a book signing she hasn’t attended with me, so all my friends are her friends too. I’m so lucky she’s been able to be a part of this whole experience with me. But I notice Erin’s assistant isn’t with her, and ask, “Where’s Jen?”
Brooke’s head whips around in my direction with her rictus mouth. “How do you not know?”
I look between the two of them. “Know what?”
“Well, I only heard this through the gossip of a couple of the other authors that were at the last book signing in Dallas, but Erin would be the one to ask and confirm.”
“Why does no one tell me anything?” I accuse.
“Girl, it’s all drama in my camp,” Erin tells me.
“What happened?”
“So, remember last month in Dallas when we all went out after the signing to the Trophy Room Bar?”
“How could I forget? Brooke got me drunk on tequila, and before I knew it, I was riding the mechanical bull.”
“You owned that bull,” Brooke jokes.
“Well, Jen also got drunk and decided to sneak out with Gabe.”
“Your cover model?”
“Yep.”
Erin has used Gabe for the covers of her latest series. The fans go crazy for him when she brings him along to the book signings. Not all events will allow cover models, but Dallas did, and this signing here in Vegas will be loaded with them as well. It’s really not my thing. Most of them are just fame whores, but Gabe is a good guy and has always been the epitome of humility.
“Anyway,” Erin continues, “I didn’t know she had left with him until I got back to our hotel room.”
“No!”
“Oh, yeah,” she says with an exaggerated nod. “He had her bent over on her knees, butt naked, pounding her from behind.”
“Holy shit!”
Brooke and I explode in laughter, and then Erin adds, “On my bed, mind you!”
“Is that the story you heard, Brooke?”
She looks at me and nods. “Mmm hmm. Apparently, Jen told someone with a blabby mouth because a group of authors were talking about it over breakfast in the hotel restaurant the next morning.”
“Where the hell was I?”
“Sleeping off your hangover.”
“Well, now she’s too mortified to see him, so she stayed home,” Erin tells us.
“Did you say anything to Gabe?”
“I asked him what happened, and he just said they were both drunk and one thing led to another. He told me he called her, but she declined the call, and he wound up apologizing to her on her voicemail.” She shrugs her shoulders and says, “I mean, they’re both single, so it’s whatever. It doesn’t bother me as long as they can still act professional. I think it’ll be fine; she’s just embarrassed. It’ll all blow over with time.”
“What does he look like naked?”
“You’ll have to excuse Brooke; she was drinking on the plane.”
“Don’t make excuses for her. We all know she would ask that same question even if she were stone sober.”