Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
I blink, trying to make sense of these two. “So, you want me to come in for cake?”
“Cake and news,” Aaron adds. “Cady, we need to get Hazel some cake. Like, now. Go to that shop—”
“Actually, you don’t have to get me cake.” They don’t need to roll out the red carpet. “I’m happy to come by cake-free. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
We say goodbye, and as I march toward their building, I text TJ, trying to figure out why they want me to visit.
TJ: Maybe the hot guy on the cover of your last book wants to show off how he grew his six-pack into an eight-pack.
Hazel: And the answer is no cheese and no fun.
TJ: I believe in cheese and abs.
Hazel: And I have a time-share in the sea to sell you.
Soon, I arrive at the skyscraper, giving my name to security. Up I go to the twelfth floor, and the second the elevator doors open, Cady and Aaron squeal. Aaron’s blond. Cady’s blonder. They escort me into a conference room, pawing at me the whole time, asking about Hugo, my favorite wine, how my day is going.
I love their enthusiasm, but I don’t want to be touched this much. I don’t say a word, though, except great, everything is great.
Once I take a seat in the room, my editor, Ramona, pops in the doorway, tucking her stick-straight brown hair behind her ears as she beams at me. “They told me you were coming by. Are you excited?”
“Um, sure. I love coming by,” I say, even more confused.
Ramona shoots the publicity twins a seriously look. “You didn’t tell Hazel on the phone?”
Cady has the good sense to look chagrined. “She was around the corner. We wanted to tell her in person. You tell her!”
Ramona tuts at them then turns to me. “It’s every writer’s dream. We want to send you on a special book tour. If you’re amenable,” she adds, a diplomat in a way the publicist pair is not.
Tour the country, meet with readers, sign books, and chat about stories? That is the ultimate fantasy. “Amenable? Of course I’m amenable,” I say. Inside, I’m elated. I haven’t been canceled. I’ve been…continued. “Whatever is involved, I’m game,” I say, but wait. That’s not true. “Unless it’s a bungee jumping tour. Or, say, one of those tours where you have to walk across rickety bridges with roaring rapids one thousand feet below.”
Cady’s jaw drops. “There are tours like that?”
“People like to be scared, hon,” Aaron says, sagely.
Ramona cuts in. “We won’t be sending you bungee jumping. But we had this great idea that, since The I Do Redo is set in France, we’d send you on a week-long luxury train tour across Europe with several lucky VIP readers. You’ll stop in various cities and do signings and events along the way, and you can show readers some of the locations from the book. How does that sound?”
Like a premise for another book. Like fodder for a train romance. Like…gah.
I can picture it now, all elegant and Orient Express-like. Maybe they even want me to dress up in a velvet evening gown, with jewels and satin gloves, and offer toasts to old-fashioned luxury as we rattle along the coast. Then when I go back to my sleeper car at night, I’ll plot a swoony story where our heroine meets a handsome stranger on the train, perhaps somewhere in the French Alps.
No, wait. He’ll be a billionaire from a small French village. He’ll step on the train wearing a tuxedo, and his dark gaze will be full of dangerous secrets. When he seduces her, they’ll have the kind of sex I’ve never quite experienced but want to—book sex.
Well, it’s the best kind. The lady always Os. Usually two or three times. I’m seriously jealous of my heroines.
“I can leave this weekend,” I say.
Cady and Aaron chuckle, then clap. “I knew she’d say yes,” Cady says.
Ramona laughs briefly then gets down to business. “Great. There’s a brand-new luxury train service that just launched. We’ll be partnering with them. JHB Travel,” she begins.
“Oh! I heard of that endeavor. It’s owned by some reclusive billionaire who made his money in green energy,” I say. Perhaps Mr. B will be the billionaire I meet on the train. Yes, life imitating art, indeed.
“Exactly,” says Ramona. “It’s perfect for VIP tour groups and such. We want to start in Rome, have you make a stop in Spain, then a few stops in France. Paris, of course because of The I Do Redo.” Immediately, I hope the trip aligns with Rachel’s, “And then we’ll finish in Copenhagen.”
Copenhagen isn’t a common setting in romance, but I do love a Viking hero too, so…yay. “I’ll get to check Denmark off my bucket list,” I say.
“We need to get everything set up, but we’d like to send you in a month. If you’d like any basic lessons in any of the languages, we can arrange for that too.”