Chapter One
The Babbling
You can’t truly understand the meaning of the word “humiliation” until you’ve ugly-cried in front of the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen in your life—then been escorted away by security.
—Bonnie Hamelin
A line of people stretched down the East 12thStreet sidewalk in Manhattan, disappearing under the iconic red awning of Strand Bookstore.
Though I’d gotten there early for the signing, I hadn’t managed to snag a spot under the protective covering near the front of the line.
Instead, I was somewhere in the middle of it, huddled under an umbrella with my new neighbor and friend Erin.
We’d already waited more than an hour as the line inched toward the enormous bookstore’s glass front doors.
Posters were tacked at intervals along the exterior of the building’s large, painted windows.
YES! We have Book 6!
And
Book Signing Tonight— NYT and USA Today Bestselling Fantasy Author Jack R. R. Bestia.
And
Thank you for your patience.
It was hard to be patient. For one thing, the cats-and-dogs rainstorm had upgraded within the last few minutes to tigers-and-rabid-wolves, and the umbrella wasn’t very large.
For another, a monumental experience waited at the other end of the line. I was finally,finallygoing to see my all-time favorite author in person.
Excitement simmered and popped inside me, making it nearly impossible to stand still. I’d read everything Jack Bestia had ever written.
Like the rest of Onyx Nation, as his millions of enthusiastic fans were known, I was eagerly awaiting next year’s release ofAnthem in Obsidian, the seventh and final book in the Onyx Throne series.
Unlike me, most ofthemhadn’t discovered his genius until that cable network had launched a high-budget drama series based on his epic fantasy novels.
I took some pride in being one of his earliest fans. Long before the Onyx series even released, I’d read his very first book, which most people had never heard of, and fallen head over heels in literary love.
“Are you sure this guy is worth it, Bonnie?” Erin asked in her charming Southern accent. “You already have the ebook. You could just order the hardcover online.”
“I’m sure. I want asignedbook. I want to meet him,” I insisted. “Besides, the rain will probably let up any minute.”
After spending the past few years living and working in small towns, I was finally in a place big enough to merit a stop on one of Jack’s book tours.
His success had exploded in the past few years as the TV show had led to action figures, coloring books, costumes, and board games, in addition to the audiobooks and foreign translations his bestselling series had already spawned.
This was my chance to see him in person, and I wasn’t going to let a little water stand in my way.
“Okay, if you say so.” Erin drew closer under the umbrella. “But you owe me a chick flick. Maybe two.”
My neighbor from the apartment next door didn’t share my love of books, but Erin had been the first person to befriend me when I’d moved to New York City a week ago, and she’d just earned friend-for-life status by heroically dashing across the street to The Bean and returning with two steaming hot chai lattes.
I clutched my cup greedily, letting the heat warm my chilled fingers and waft over my cold nose. The people in line around us—mostly men—groaned with envy and longing over our hot drinks.
Or more likely, it was my hotfriendthat had captured their attention.
With her long golden hair, longer legs, and the kind of cheekbones cameras couldn’t get enough of, the fledgling model wasalwayscapturing men’s attention. It was hard to miss how they stared everywhere she went.
