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Moments later, another instant message box popped up, this time from the group moderator, and Veronica tuned the chatter out while reading the message.
ReaderAngel204: I’m so sorry, Veronica. I placed BookAddictedWhore on moderation. I’d hoped she wouldn’t show up for this chat.
Veronica Benedict: It’s all right. This isn’t anything new from her. I wish I had a dime for every time she’s called me a bitch. I could buy a pair of brass knuckles to use on her head.
ReaderAngel204: LMAO! Good one. I’ll get started wrapping things up. Just hang with us for a few more minutes.
Another instant message window opened up over that one. This time the message was from her current online stalker.
BookAddictedWhore. Can’t take the heat, bitch? You should be used to this by now. Seriously, are you going to write in Angelina as Nate and Gaston’s heroine because I can totally see her in a threesome.
Veronica Benedict: I haven’t decided.
BookAddictedWhore: Well, I just decided for you, so get to it.
Veronica Benedict: Sorry, I need to get back to the chat.
She could see the tiny icon indicating that BookAddictedwhore was typing when she minimized the message so that it wouldn’t interrupt her time left with the reader group. A few seconds later, the notification tone for Skype dinged twice, and she looked down, noting that she had messages from two sources. Shit.
Another reader asked her a nicely put question regarding the hero of Bound at the Bonfire. She continued on, answering questions and giggling and laughing with the rest of the group members. This was one of her favorite groups to chat with, with the exception of a few asshats. The ones who talked dirty didn’t bother her nearly as much as the ones who sought access they had no right to. Like BookAddictedWhore, they mistook fun naughtiness for an opportunity to be rude and ask questions to which the answer was none of their damned business.
No, BookAddictedWhore, I’ve never had anal sex. Fucking bitch. Even thinking those words made the heat in her cheeks increase. She could still hear her mother’s superior tone of voice echoing in her head. You are much too intelligent to use such language, young lady.
She tried to focus on the chat. She smiled when she saw the next chat room message pop up.
Caressa MacFarland: I think that Veronica will blow us all away with what she writes no matter what genre it’s in.
Veronica smiled when lots of people chimed in behind her with the same sentiment. Leave it to Caressa to raise the standard in the group.
Veronica Benedict: Thank you, Caressa. Thank you, ladies.
Caressa MacFarland: No, thank you for sharing the sneak peek into your current work in progress, Bound at the River Bridge, with us tonight. I look forward to reading it and I know your readers are going to love it.
Caressa messaged her privately a second later.
Caressa McFarland: I hate when that bitch shows up at live chats. She was firing questions at you faster than you could answer them and then got pissy at you for not answering fast enough. There’s no pleasing some people. Is she still pestering you privately?
Veronica Benedict: Yes.
Caressa MacFarland: Ignore her. Both publicly and privately. She’ll find someone else to stalk eventually. Don’t respond to her because it just encourages her.
Veronica Benedict: I already have messages from her waiting for me on Skype. I know, I know…I never should’ve added her as a contact on Skype. I also wish I’d taken a pseudonym like you did.
Caressa MacFarland: Live and learn, honey. I’d delete her and block her everywhere I could. A lot of promoting in this business is trial and error, and your readers love you. Thankfully, most of them are normal.
Veronica couldn’t have known that BookAddictedWhore would wind up being such a toxic force until it was too late. She hated looking like the mean guy, but this particular “fan” had to go. She regretted not protecting her privacy by taking a pseudonym when she began writing sweet romance several years before. In her mind, she’d had nothing to hide and no one to hide from. But that was before she’d discovered firsthand that there was no such thing as privacy online.
She’d learned to protect her privacy in reverse, by changing her apartment lease and all her other bills and personal contact information to her middle name, Louise. The switch had been a huge pain in the ass, and hadn’t worked in a couple of instances.
