Inked on Paper - Nicole Edwards Page 0,52

Adrian’s relationship, with the most important person in my world … the only family I had left … my best friend. Gavin.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Jake

Wednesday morning

The absolute last place I wanted to be was in the greenroom on the set of the Today Show, but here I was, wearing a hole in the carpet while I waited to go out there, smile for the cameras, and make an absolute fool of myself on national television.

Sometimes I wondered why I liked Liz as much as I did. After all, she was the one responsible for this. She knew how much I hated being in the public eye. Hell, I had anxiety attacks at book signings, but I’d managed to get used to those. But only because the readers deserved my undivided attention. Without them, I wouldn’t be where I was today.

This interview nonsense… The readers weren’t here.

No, for the fifteen minutes I was allotted on camera, I would be talking to one of the female anchors who was familiar with author interviews—or so I’d been informed. I didn’t know her name, so I was sort of going into this blind.

A knock sounded on the door.

I rushed over, pulled it open, and came face-to-face with a mousy woman sporting a headset and carrying a clipboard. “Mr. Wild, you’re up in five. I’ll take you to the set now and get you settled if you’re ready.”

There was no way I could tell her that I’d never be ready for this, so I sucked it up and nodded.

Five minutes later, I was sitting on a sofa, staring over at a pretty young woman whose name I still didn’t know, with cameras and spotlights strategically placed on the two of us while we were supposed to sit there and chat, pretending to make casual conversation.

The director, or whatever he was called, gave his signal, possibly said something, though I heard nothing over the thundering of my heart in my ears.

“I’m honored to be sitting here today with none other than Jacob Wild, author of, as many of you know, fourteen novels, eight of those having hit the New York Times best-seller list. My personal favorite, Forbidden, held the number one spot for weeks and has since been turned into a record-breaking movie. Glad to have you joining us, Jacob.”

I knew that was my cue to say something, but I was feeling a little light-headed, so I reached for my glass of water, praying like hell no one saw how my hand was shaking. Somehow, I managed a smile. “Thanks. It’s an honor to be here.”

“So, we’re going to get right to it, since I know the fans at home have been waiting anxiously for this day. It’s not a secret that since the movie’s release, you’ve sort of disappeared into the ether, and people are wondering where you’ve gone. Can you tell us a little about what you’ve been doing for the past year?”

I kept my eyes on the woman, knowing that if I looked around at the cameras or the others watching carefully, I would probably lose my nerve, what little I had. “I’d like to say that I’ve been writing,” I told her, “but that hasn’t been the case. Not until recently, anyway.”

“Right,” she said with an excited grin, glancing over at a monitor, which had information regarding things I’d told them beforehand. “I heard that you’re working on a new book. Can you tell us a little about it?”

I forced another smile, knowing I probably looked as terrified as I felt. Cameras were not my thing. It was one reason I was a novelist and not a journalist. “It’s titled…” I actually didn’t have a title in mind until right that moment. “Unexpected. Unfortunately, I can’t give you much detail about it yet, because it’s in the early stages.”

“Can you tell us one thing? Do you expect this one to be as hot as Forbidden? As you’re probably aware, women everywhere”—she glanced at the camera and smiled—“and probably quite a few men, have been somewhat intrigued by your steamy content.”

I laughed. How could I not? This was a prime-time television show, a family one, at that, so it wasn’t as though this woman could come right out and call me on the heated sex scenes. For that, I was grateful. Writing them and talking about them were two entirely different things.

“I’d like to think it will,” I told her, taking another sip of my water, ignoring the fact that I spilled some on my

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