Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
(Which I think is not only a catchy motto, but a really good one. Anyway.)
“So, while I gather all the details I can about hashtag FraudTwins, I just wanted to do a quick post to say that of all the cool and hotly anticipated new releases that we’ve all been waiting for from Eden Le Fay and Winter Page and whoever your favorite author is, there’s one that might fly under the radar and I want to bring it to your attention.”
(I started holding my breath at this point in the video.)
“And, I want to be clear, this is not sponsored. No one is paying for this. I just happened to stumble across a new author and grabbed a copy of her book and, you guys, this woman can write. Her name is Cynthia Lear and her new book is called Filling the Gap.”
(At which point, a photo of the book appeared next to her face and I almost fainted. She went on…)
“And here’s what’s really interesting. I actually managed to get my hands on two copies.”
(Which is when a photo of the white cover with the black lettering appeared next to her face on the screen and I almost fainted for a different reason.)
“And I read them both, back to back. Because, honestly? I couldn’t stop. And what’s really wild is they’re almost exactly the same book, but they’re not at the same time. One of them does everything in a very traditional way that I love, but the other one… Well, no spoilers, but it’s not like anything I’ve read before. It’s not going to be for everyone, for sure, but it is so good. Ugly-cry, you guys. Ugly-cry. I’ll post a full, in-depth review of both on my site, but seriously, there is an exciting new voice in the romance world who doesn’t seem to be interested in playing by the rules! Which is sick. So, run to grab up copies of her stuff, like, now. Oh, and, according to some people I’ve talked with, she looks like me.”
(Then she put up a photo of me on the screen next to her.)
“I don’t see it. No shade, she’s super-cute, but I can’t get past the differences in our hair. So, drop a comment and tell me what you think. Do I look like Cynthia Lear? Yes or no? Okay! Until next time… Easy reading.”
And then a big kiss emoji appeared on the screen and the video started over.
I watched it roughly three dozen times.
And then…
And then I saw the pre-orders for the official release of FTG—which I have scheduled for next week—go through the roof. Not only that, but I started getting messages through my website asking if both versions would be available for purchase.
And not only that, but the first two books in The Purity Principle series have also seen massive sales spikes. They were sitting at around sales rank eleventy-trillion in the Nile store, and now they’ve both managed to crack the top fifty. And not just in the romance category. In the whole store. I seriously need to send Audrey Saint a gift basket for telling Lesperia to come to my table. Fruit or chocolate? Know what? Both. And maybe a pony. I think Audrey lives on a ranch.
Anyway, that’s what happened. It’s been a hell of a few days. So, right now, I’m just trying to take a breath while I plan my next move. And thus, here I sit, legs dangling in the pool, head tilted back, sun shining on my face. Which, while also literal, does have a not-at-all-hidden allegory attached.
“I talked to my mom,” I tell Brit, feeling the warmth of the rays on my skin.
I can feel her head turn to look at me even without opening my eyes. “Really?” I nod. “Who called who?”
“I called her.”
“And what did you two talk about?”
“This and that. The weather. How her book is coming. How Dad’s doing.”
There’s a pause before she says, “And?”
“And that, at this moment, I’m one of the bestselling romance authors on the planet.”
There’s a breeze that causes the palm fronds to rustle.
“No shit.” Britney sighs.
“No shit.”
“What did she say?’
“She was surprised.”
“I’ll bet.”
I lower my head and look at Britney, who has her mouth open, waiting, expectantly. “And then she asked a bunch of questions.”
“Like what?”
“Like, ‘When did you start writing romance? Why didn’t you tell me you were writing romance? How did you become a bestseller so quickly?’ All that kind of stuff.”
“And you said…?”
“I told her that I’ve wanted to write it forever. She asked why I never told her before. And I explained it was because I was afraid she’d judge me for it.”
“You did?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You said that to her?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Wow.” A beat. “How’d she take it?”
“Y’know, I have to be honest, I don’t really ... care.”
In the ensuing silence I can almost hear the gears turning in Brit’s brain.