She took another deep breath to keep from hyperventilating. She’d admired Ms. Starquest’s books for years and had never imagined getting a personal invitation to the event. She had her new agent to thank for it.
As if on cue, her phone rang. Araminta hurried over to the chair by the door and dug her phone out of her purse. The call display told her it was indeed her agent, Sam Black, calling to check on her. “Hi, Mr. Black.” For some unknown reason, she couldn’t bring herself to call him by his first name. He didn’t sound like a Sam. He sounded sophisticated and cultured and just a little bit scary.
“Are you ready for your trip?”
She tucked a long, stray hair behind her ear and nodded before she realized he couldn’t see her. Her excitement and trepidation were melting her brain cells. “I’m just getting ready to load the car now. I should be on the road within the next half hour.”
“Good. I don’t need to tell you how important this weekend is.”
No pressure, though. “Yes, I know.” And she couldn’t complain. Mr. Black had contacted her because he’d read one of her three earlier books, all of which had been critically well received but had only had a limited audience. It was Mr. Black who’d taken the first book of her new series—Demon’s Wrath—and sold the first two books to a major publisher. The first book, Tiger’s Curse, had hit the bestseller lists. Very low on the list, but it was there. The second book was launching soon and the publisher had high expectations for it. The least she could do was to get out there and promote them.
“This will be good publicity for your first book and the new one. Luna Starquest asked for you personally.”
Araminta still couldn’t quite believe her good fortune. It was an amazing opportunity and she was looking forward to it.
“Call me when you get back home so you can let me know how the weekend went.” His tone was smooth, but there was no mistaking the underlying command in his words.
“I will,” she promised.
“Have fun.” With those parting words, he hung up.
A shiver raced down Araminta’s spine and she rubbed her free hand over her arm. Even though his words were innocuous enough, she’d felt threatened by them. “You’re doing too much research and writing,” she muttered. She dumped her phone back into her purse and pulled on her jacket. “You be good while I’m gone,” she ordered the cat, for all the good it would do her.
Percy jumped down from his perch and wound his way between her legs. Laughing, she picked him up and rubbed her cheek against his soft fur. “I’ll miss you. I’d take you, but the hotel isn’t pet friendly.”
She put him back down and he gave a loud grumble. Percy didn’t meow as much as he grumbled. “Besides, you wouldn’t have any fun stuck in a hotel room all day. This way you can roam the house and you have your bed and your toys.” She prayed he wouldn’t destroy the furniture while she was away.
It didn’t take her long to get her car packed, and less than fifteen minutes later she was backing out of her driveway. Percy sat on the back of the chair in the window, watching her leave. It was more of a glare really, but there was nothing she could do about it. She took one last glance at her two-bedroom cottage as she pulled away.
She turned on the radio to help drown out the voice of guilt in the back of her head. It was there along with the voice of doubt taunting her. She’d never been good in social situations, preferring books to people as a child. She had fond memories of losing herself for hours at a time in the fictional worlds of Narnia, Wonderland and Neverland.
The tendency to keep to herself hadn’t changed much as an adult. She’d gone to college and gotten work in a library soon after, but had come back to Hillsboro when her grandmother had passed away, leaving her a home and a small inheritance.
Life was good and it could only get better. As she hit the I-29, an old Rolling Stones song came on asking her to have some sympathy for the devil. She sang along as she cruised toward the city.
Araminta double-checked her appearance in the bathroom mirror. She wanted to look her best for the meet-and-greet being held in the hotel’s ballroom. Her waist-length, wavy hair was rolled up in a bun and pinned at the back of her head with several silver clips. She wished the color were more exciting, but it was plain tawny brown. She’d never had the courage or the desire to dye it, but now she was wondering if she should have.
“Get a grip,” she muttered. She was what she was and, for the most part, was very happy with her life. Her face was a little more rounded than she’d like, but then again, so was her body. “Curvy,” her grandmother had called her. “Overweight,” her mother had always pointed out.
Araminta ignored the flash of pain that memory always brought with it. Her parents were both gone now. Her father to a heart attack at the age of forty-five and her mother a year later to a car accident, leaving Araminta alone at the age of sixteen. She’d gone to live with her grandmother and had finished high school in Hillsboro before going off to college. Now she was a thirty-year-old woman who lived alone with her cat and wrote books. She was a living, breathing cliché.
“You look great,” she told her reflection. She’d started giving herself these little pep talks as a teenager and had never grown out of the habit. She turned to one side and then the other. The knee-length black skirt she wore skimmed her curves and the blouse she wore over it camouflaged her large bust. She’d exchanged her watch for a thick silver cuff to add some pizzazz.
She left the bathroom mirror behind and went back into the bedroom to collect her shoes and small purse. She slid her feet into the two-inch heels, which were quite daring for her considering she almost always wore flats. She preferred comfort over style, even though at five-four she could use the extra height.
Her purse was small, but big enough to fit her phone, some cash and her room keycard. She slipped the strap over her shoulder and headed for the door.
She’d barely left her room when she heard her name being called. Luna Starquest was gliding toward her on five-inch heels. She looked more like a fashion model than a writer with her tall, slender build and legs that seemed to go on forever. Luna was wearing a form-fitting red dress that plunged daringly in the front and ended quite a few inches above her knees. A large, thick gold chain wrapped around her neck and she wore matching bracelets on both wrists. Her shoes were covered in sparkling rhinestones.
Her face was striking, with high cheekbones and full lips, and her straight hair fell like an ebony curtain around her shoulders. “Araminta, I was hoping I’d run into you.”
“Really?” She wished she could call back the reply. It made her sound like some nerdy teenager who couldn’t believe the popular girl wanted to talk to her, although that’s exactly what this felt like.
Luna tucked her arm around Araminta’s shoulders and gave her a brief hug. “I was hoping we could go downstairs together.” They walked to the elevator and Luna hit the button. The doors slid silently open. “Look, no waiting.” Luna laughed and they both stepped in.
“Thank you again for inviting me, Ms. Starquest.”
Luna laughed again. “Please, call me Luna. And you’re welcome. After Sam brought you to my attention, I knew I had to have you here.”
Her agent had brought her to Luna’s attention. Araminta frowned. Why hadn’t he told her that? From everything he’d said to her, it had sounded as though Luna had asked about Araminta, but now it seemed as though her agent had thrust her in front of the best-selling author. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
“Is anything wrong?” Luna asked.
Araminta felt like a fool for questioning her good fortune. Why did it matter how she came to Luna’s attention? She was here and that was all that was important. “Nothing at all. I’m just a little nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before.”