Better than the Book (Charitable Endeavors #4) - M.E. Carter
Chapter One
Celeste
I come to awareness, peeling my eyes open slowly. Glancing around the room, I notice the sun isn’t even up yet. I’m not surprised. I’ve been so stinking excited for the Prince of Darkness convention; I haven’t slept well in days. Too much excitement and too many nerves. Because today is the day I will meet Hunter Stone.
He is the most amazing actor, even if he is on a stupid vampire TV show. Not that I have anything against paranormal stories.
Scratch that—I have a lot against storylines involving super long canines and sucking the blood of innocent young virgins. And yes, I know they aren’t all like that. My blogging bestie, Carrie, has made me try enough different versions I recognize why it’s a popular genre. But for me, it’s a no-go. I mean seriously, why would anyone fall in love with Dracula for fun? I don’t care how much he sparkles or whatever, a wooden stake is going right through his heart if one of those creepy creatures gets near me. Any other reaction is just stupid.
Not stupid, however, is Hunter Stone. Last year, I saw him in a tiny two-man show called, “Get Up,” and I fell in love. Not actual love. Just actor obsession-love. Not actual obsession—okay, maybe a little obsession. He was nothing short of amazing in his role and I knew then he was on the cusp of greatness. If only he would have stuck to theater, there is no doubt in my mind he would be the future of Broadway. In my dreams, I would be right there with him, working backstage to help support his performances and bring them to life.
Except, he joined the cast of Prince of Darkness, the popular vampire cop drama on television. Do I hold a grudge that he gave up all he holds dear in the theater to run around with fake teeth?
Only a little. But I also get it. Being a working actor isn’t easy. You take jobs you may not necessarily enjoy so you can eat. And if the opportunity to play a bit part to supplement your income comes along, you do it.
It’s not Hunter’s fault he’s so damn good they made him a regular. Natural talent like his just can’t be contained. In fact, they should be thanking him. He’s the only reason I watch that dumb show anyway. Every week. Twice. I didn’t even have a television until he joined the cast anyway. They owe him for my loyalty.
Fortunately, his role is still small enough that the add-on tickets I purchased to get his signature and a photo with him weren’t too terribly expensive. I can’t wait to show him the “Get Up” playbill I still have. While I don’t keep a memento from every show I attend, it was truly a remarkable performance. In my wildest fantasies we’ll bond over our mutual love of the theater and we’ll start a beautiful friendship that turns into future collaborations. I’ve dreamt of it many times.
My dreams are over for the night now. There’s no use in trying to get any more sleep, I might as well start getting ready for an epic day. I’d much rather be early than late and besides, I’m sure there are already people milling about the hotel before the convention starts. I don’t mind doing a bit of people watching.
Rolling over, I place my feet on the small rug next to my bed and try to get my equilibrium to settle. I hate not getting enough sleep. It always makes me feel nauseous until I get moving. A solid eight hours of uninterrupted slumber is needed for me to function properly.
I take a deep breath and blow it out before making my way to the tiny kitchen Anna and I share. New York living is expensive, especially when you’re just starting out. Stage Managing for small theatre companies doesn’t pay much and while the blog I run with Carrie helps supplement my income, life in New York City is expensive. We all dream of a fancy apartment near Central Park, but my reality is, I share a matchbook size one-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn with my roommate, Anna Logan, known on the stage as Anna Kay. An aspiring musician, she’s a great roommate and not just because she’s super organized and clean but also very chill when she’s home. She also travels frequently for gigs so we’re not falling all over each other every day. Since our place is less