face J.A. Fox onstage while she speaks. The floral centerpieces are small and tight, giving a sense of richness while not obstructing views, and the place settings gleam with gold edging on the plates, crystal glasses, and gold flatware.
Toward the back of the room, there are smaller round tables set up with four workstations per table. That must be for the workshop portion, I think, patting my bag once more. I did manage to get one more chapter done after skipping the sex scene like Aleria suggested, but I need today and J.A. Fox to help get my juices flowing again. My writing ones, obviously . . . I’m not discussing sex scenes with J.A. Fox, that’s for sure. It’d be like talking to the Queen of England about blowjobs. She’s probably done it before, but I do not need that visual in my head.
Shit . . . too late.
Before that imagery gets so embedded that eye bleach won’t remove it, I see her . . . the one and only J.A. Fox. She’s wearing a black dress, and her gray hair is smooth and sleek. She looks almost grandmotherly, like she could bake a killer pineapple upside down cake, but inside her head is a brilliance unmatched in the current romance genre. Hell, in any genre. She’s created a market all by herself, decades in the making, and is still creating unique, interesting stories.
She’s standing by the famous art piece that inspired her latest best-seller. The Black Rose is smaller than I’d thought, not much bigger than a piece of printer paper. Maybe I just assumed it was large because of its importance? Together, the sight is a dream come true, and I feel drawn toward it like a tractor beam drawing a cow up into an alien spaceship.
I’m so lost in J.A. Fox being real and right in front of me that I trip over my scrambling feet. The hiss of a giggle behind me slices through my gut, but before I can blush in shame—or hit the ground face first—I hit a hard body and arms wrap tightly around me.
“Oh,” I exclaim too loudly. Another giggle, this time with an accompanying chorus of cleared throats, sounds out behind me. But when I look up into the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen attached to a man who’s just as appealing, the symphony of pity from the other authors disappears as I focus on mapping the flecks of brown and gold at the center of these eyes.
It has definitely been too long since I’ve done my own ‘research’ on sex because my body, that wanton, thirsty hussy, perks right up at the feel of his body and his eyes focused on mine. He’s so close I can smell the mint he must’ve eaten earlier, and my ovaries, the dried-up peach pits in my gut, start doing a hokey pokey as they come to life and start turning themselves around.
“Who are you?” I ask breathlessly.
At my girlish question, he chuckles too, and the moment is broken. I belatedly realize what an idiot I look like—tripping over my own feet and falling into some stranger before staring up at him with lustful, worshipful eyes like I’m ready to have his babies right here and now.
I struggle to upright myself, my knees not quite ready and buckling ever so slightly. To my horror, the hot stranger catches me . . . again. “Careful now.”
“Guess she takes ‘head over heels’ a bit literally, huh?” someone stage whispers behind me.
Finally vertical and steady, I clear my throat and try to salvage some dignity. “Sorry. I got a little star struck there.”
“It happens. I sometimes have that effect on women,” he says with a cocky smirk that somehow still looks charming. “Just don’t break anything.”
“No. No, I meant . . . not you . . .” I argue stupidly, going pale. He doesn’t believe my lie, but I stick to my story. “By her. That’s J.A. Fox,” I whisper like he doesn’t know that. If he’s here, he must’ve been invited and know who she is, right? Male romance authors are unusual, and now that my head is on straight, I’m instantly curious who he is. Speaking of straight—oh, God, is my dress okay? I check to be sure it hasn’t crept up my thighs or a boob hasn’t popped out. All good, thankfully.
“Sure. She’s . . . who’d you say?” he says, glancing over his shoulder at the Grand Dame who’s thankfully unaware of