Work In Progress (Red Lipstick Coalition #3) - Staci Hart Page 0,2

You are a mess, Amelia Hall. You have to tell him who you are. Janessa will shit a brick if you don’t.

I swallowed the sticky lump in my throat, arranging the book pile without purpose. “I…I’m Amelia Hall. W-with the U-USA Times.”

The book closed with a soft thump.

“Amelia Hall? As in the blogger for Halls of Books?” The question was thick with meaning.

The blood in my body rushed from every extremity, racing up my neck in a blush so hard, I could feel the tingling crawl of it on my skin.

Like a dummy, I looked up. An affirmative word was on my stupid, fat tongue, stuck there in my mouth like a gum ball in a water hose. I nodded.

He was smirking, lips together, a tilted smile that set a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “You’re the blogger who hates me so much.”

I frowned and spoke without thinking. “I-I don’t hate you. I just hold issue with your idea of romance.”

The words left me without thought or attempt or desire to reel them back in.

I might not be able to order a pizza over the phone, but I could stand up for a little old lady who someone had cut in front of or the kid who was getting picked on. And my ideals. I could stand up for those too, especially when questioned.

The corner of his sardonic mouth climbed. “Well, lucky for me, I don’t write romance.”

A derisive sound left me. Lucky for all of us. “I don’t hate your books,” I insisted.

He shrugged and took the next book off the pile to sign. “Wouldn’t guess so from your reviews. My least favorite phrase on the planet is unforgivable sin, thanks to you.”

The heat in my cheeks flared again, this time in defense. “Your world- building is incredible. Your imagery is so brilliant, sometimes I have to set my book down and stare at a wall just to absorb it. But every hero you write is, frankly, an”—an asshole, was what I was going to say but instead landed on—“ unkind man.”

He nodded at the title page as he scrawled his name. “Viggo?”

“He left Djuna because she was pregnant with his half-breed baby. And she took him back even though he wouldn’t even commit to her for good.”

“Blaze?”

I rolled my eyes. “He didn’t come for Luna because he was more worried about himself. He could have saved her from the Liath!” My hand rose in the universal sign for what the hell and lowered to slap my thigh with a snap.

“Even Zavon? He’s everyone’s favorite.”

My face flattened. “He cheated on her out of spite. That, sir, is the ultimate unforgivable sin. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she took him back for no reason. He didn’t even apologize.” I said the words as if it were me he’d cheated on. Honestly, it felt that way.

He slid the book to me and picked up another. But he didn’t sign it. Instead, he turned that godforsaken smirk on me, which subsequently turned my knees into jelly.

“But he loved her. Isn’t love enough to forgive?”

It was that tingle again, climbing up my face like fire. “Of course it is, but your heroes never make heroic decisions about the women who love them. In fact, they don’t seem to love their women at all, not enough to sacrifice their own comfort. They’re irredeemable. Why isn’t love enough to make them act less like assholes?” I clapped a hand over my mouth, my eyes widening so far, they stung from exposure to air.

Something in his eyes changed, sharpened with an idea. He was otherwise unaffected, chuckling as he opened the book and turned his attention to his Sharpie again. “I mean, you’re not wrong, Amelia.”

The way he’d said my name, the depth and timbre and rolling reverberation slipped over me.

I blinked. “I’m not?”

His eyes shifted to meet mine for only a heartbeat before dropping to the page again. “You’re not. Every time I publish a book, I wait for your review to see if I’ve finally won you over.” He closed the book, pushing it across the table to me before reaching for the last. “Would you consider helping me with my next novel?”

Somewhere, a needle scratched. Tires squealed from a pumping of brakes. Crickets chirped in a chorus in an empty room.

Help him?

“Yes, help me,” he answered as he signed. I didn’t realize I’d spoken the question. “I could use a critical voice on my team. I have a feeling they’ve been