Page 78 of A Bookish Story

He’s not wrong to call it my book. I have the passion for this project he lacks.

“I’ll get to work on this right away.”

“There’s one thing.” He lightly touches my arm and probably because of last night, a tingle flows through me. “Write this with your own style. Your voice. I don’t care if it’s different. Make the book, and the story, your own.”

“It’s Lula’s point of view, so maybe it’s okay the voices are different,” I muse. “They’re bound to be.”

He splays his hands behind his neck. “I’m so relieved we’re going to make everyone happy. There will be a sequel and I don’t have to write it.”

I chuckle at his honesty. “What does Kate think?”

“Kate is nothing less than ecstatic there will be another book, so thank you. Again.”

“She’s excited even if I’m writing? How does she know how I write?” I stand. “Wait. How do you know?”

Ryan palms a hand down his face. “Not long ago we both read the latest Desdemona book. The e-book was priced at 99 cents which is honestly too low of a price for such great work.”

I wish he’d said something sooner because I could have made a rec. That particular book is replete with open-door love scenes between Desdemona and her longtime lover, Ezekiel. It’s what they’d asked for in the book. Their specific instructions were: Don’t hold back; we’ll tell you if it’s too much. Last year was the twenty-five-year anniversary of her long-running vampire series and they wanted scorching hot scenes to celebrate and acknowledge the fact Desdemona, when alive, was a trendsetter.

And so…I didn’t hold back. I hold up a palm, clutching the pad to my chest. “I can explain⁠—”

“What’s there to explain? The writing is strong. Your voice is irreverent and funny. And that’s how I wrote Lula.”

I’m now wondering if he skipped over the love scenes in the book or actually read them. He’s not giving me any weird looks so I’m hoping for the former.

“I’m guessing the heat level should stay the same as with the book?”

I refuse to look at Ryan when I ask this question. There were a few scenes in Soulmates between Lula and Grayson that almost set fire to my e-reader.

“Yes, that would work. Might be best.”

“Okay.” I swallow hard.

“Kate is running the idea by the publisher, but she fully expects the sales from the book to mean they’ll send over a deal memo in record time. You’ll also need to sign an agency agreement with Kate so that she can officially represent you.”

“She’s offering me representation?”

My voice is a squeak. Kate is one of the best in the industry, and even I know this. She’s closed to queries and has a stable of impressive household names. I never dreamed she’d represent me. Apparently this is one area in which I didn’t dream big enough.

“You could seek your own representation if you’d prefer that. We don’t need to have the same agency but the publisher does have first right of refusal for any sequels.”

I drop the pad and spin around in place. “Of course I want Kate! I want it all! I can’t believe I’m finally, after all these years, going to have an agent!”

He chuckles. “Good, because Kate would have probably had a stroke if you went anywhere else.”

Anywhere else wouldn’t be like having Kate and the same agency who’s represented multiple bestselling books and many of my literary heroes. This time I don’t warn Ryan a hug is incoming. Instead, I jump into his arms and he catches me.

“I can’t thank you enough. You’ve made all of my dreams come true.”

Neither one of us shies away from the embrace, which is tight, and might last a little too long for workplace hours. My face is nestled into his neck, which is so warm, my arms around his strong shoulders. His hands are hovering around my behind. Then I remember to be a professional and am the first to pull away. I want to know that Ryan is working with me because he likes my writing and not because he thinks I’m sexy and wants to sleep with me.

Even so, I see the desire in his shimmering eyes. He’s given me everything I ever wanted but there’s one thing he can’t give me. Back when I dated nothing but selfish losers who put their own needs before my own, I would have loved to meet someone like Ryan.

I stay at Ryan’s later than I normally would because working here is easy and inspiring despite the distraction of the hunk in the room. I’ve been writing in my shed for the past few months, but it’s comfortable working beside Ryan as we both write. His face is almost comical. It’s one of utter concentration, but every once in a while he gets up, runs a hand through his hair and mutters, “This is hopeless. Maybe it’s time for me to quit.”

“Are you serious?”

“I had a good run.” He sighs and shakes his head.