Chapter 1
There are few things in life as bittersweet as finishing a truly great book. It seems almost silly, but I feel like every great book has left a hole in my heart, like a long-lost love. As I put my Kindle down, I grab my coffee mug and down the now-cold dregs and sigh to myself. A good author makes you happy; a great author makes you cry.
I sit back and look out at the mountains in the distance, not quite prepared to head inside and face the real world after having my heart broken by … words. The second-floor balcony of our house – that is, my boyfriend and I’s house – had, since nearly day one of us buying it, become my preferred reading spot. My sanctuary. No matter the weather, if I had a spare minute I’d spend it here.
For once, I had a few days between projects, so I’d been essentially living on this balcony, devouring the bibliography of one ‘Dani Collins.’ I hadn’t intended to become obsessed with her, it just kind of happened. A friend loaned me one of her books, and I read it in the span of four cups of very strong coffee. A quick e-trip to Amazon later and I owned all of them. That book that just tore me up? That was the last one. The book hangover struggle is real.
The thing that stuck out more than anything else was her ability to write characters with depth, and the fact that I shared the profession of one of my favorites helped too. But none of that was going through my head right now, just the separation anxiety I felt. I send Erica (the friend who introduced me to Dani’s works in the first place) a text:
Me: That’s it. I’m broken. Done. I’m not ever reading again.
Erica: … Lol. Finished velocity I take it?
Me: Fuck you. You should’ve warned me.
Erica: I did. Repeatedly.
Me: So when’s her next one coming out?
I could practically hear her laughing through my phone, but then she sent me an invitation on Facebook. Pulling it up, it seemed to be for “Collins’ Collective.” A fanclub? That seems a bit… obsessive. I couldn’t help but feel like a 12 year old with a crush; the warmth ran into my face. Was I really about to join this group? Shit, I already clicked Join. I guess the answer is ‘yes.’
Looking at the clock, I realized I’d just spent over half an hour browsing through old posts. Apparently her next book is coming out in less than a month. A month’s not too bad – I can handle that. I’ll just have to fill the time with … well, I can re-read a lot of books in a month!
I throw my phone in my pocket, grab my Kindle and coffee mug, and head inside. As soon as I open the door, a wall of delicious smells hits me and draws me straight to the kitchen. Paul is facing the oven and listening to music at obscene volumes, as per usual when cooking, so I can slip in behind him and grab him undetected. After squeeling like a little girl, he hits pause on the nearby speaker and turns around to give me a kiss.
“You’re going to pay for that later. You know that, right?” He chastises, holding a sauce-covered spatula in a mock-threatening fashion.
I just smile wider and give him another kiss. “What’s for dinner? I smell … curry, and ricotta?”
“Yup! I was craving Indian, but I had all this pasta. So we’re going to have butter chicken lasagna. Uh, assuming it isn’t terrible. I’m not sure yet.” Paul is unconventional, to put it mildly. Never one to sit still, he made his career on stumbling into the new trend before the new trend even existed. His passion in the kitchen, and in the bedroom, was equally out of the box.
“This. This is why I love you, you big weirdo.” I give him a big hug and wander off to my office.
He shouts after me, “dinner’s in 45! Be on the lookout for Italian-Indian music to set the mood!” Such a strange guy. But that’s why I fell in love with him, and we’ve worked out great for half a decade now. I wouldn’t trade him for the world.
Chapter 2
When I die, I want my epitaph to read: “Everything went better than expected.” I don’t want a life that will be talked about for generations, or a life of misery. I just want a life in that nice Goldilocks zone in the middle. That is the polar opposite of Paul. He always has to push the envelope, be a pioneer, create the next big thing. To his credit, it’s worked out great for us; I make a decent living myself, but we could both sit around the house all day for the rest of our lives without thinking about money ever again. But that doesn’t stop him from spending twelve-plus hours a day at his computer, tinkering away on his new creation.
I learned early-on in our relationship that he would come up with the Next Big Thing (TM) about once a week, like clockwork; the boy has more ideas in an afternoon than I have in a year. But occasionally I’ll realize that I haven’t seen him for 36 hours and find him propped up on his desk, typing furiously away. That’s where he is right now, and I know better to interrupt him when he’s like this. Instead, I run down to the kitchen, make him a quick plate with one of the burgers I just cooked, and put it on his desk quietly.
He sees me put it down and spins his chair around, his characteristic, exhausted grin breaking across his face. “Thank you, lovely! I’m sorry, I’ve been in my own little world all day. You will not believe the shit I’ve got in the works.”
“I know how this goes. Just message me if you need anything, okay?” I give him a kiss and wander back to my office to relax for a bit. I pop open Facebook and see a dozen notifications; not common for me. Turns out, all but one are from that Dani Collins fan group. Having never heard of her before Erica loaned me her first book, I didn’t realize just how big – or at least rabid – her fanbase was. I couldn’t help but feel like an outsider, having just found out about her now; I hate feeling like I’m at a disadvantage in joining a social group, and it made me hesitant to really jump in.
However, most people who joined the group seemed to write an introductory post to say hello to everyone else, so I figured I should do the same. It took me close to an hour to write two tiny paragraphs, not because of the writing itself, but because I didn’t want to seem like a raving lunatic fangirl… even if that’s how I was feeling.
Hi Collective! I’m a new fan compared to most of you guys, but Erica got me into her recently and I’ve read every. single. thing. So that brings me here, with the other superfans. I’m still recovering from ‘Velocity’, so please take it a bit easy on me!
A bit about myself: I’m Sarah, an avid reader, a biotech researcher (just like Toni from ‘Out on a Limb’!), living in Denver with my boyfriend and four cats. I enjoy long walks on the beach and– woops, this isn’t my dating profile. I look forward to getting to know everyone, and thank you for letting me join. :)
It took all of about 30 seconds before the comments started streaming in from – seemingly – all over the globe. So many ‘welcome’s, I could hardly keep track. A few people jokingly warned me about the risque nature of the group, and a few others apologized for Erica having subjected me to “us weirdos.” I couldn’t have felt more at home!
Things began to slow down pretty quickly, so I figured it was as good a time as any to walk away from the computer, lest I be glued to my screen any longer. I pushed away from my desk and walked towards the door to the hallway. As soon as I cracked the door, Paul’s snoring echoed its way to me. I walked over to his office and glanced in, to see him there with his head laying on his hands, neatly clasped together on his desk, cuddling his keyboard.
I could hear him mumbling something unintelligible to himself as I walked up to him; the more tired he was, the more likely it became that he would end up talking in his sleep. All it took was a light nudge and he woke with a start, turning to face me. “Did I say anything embarrassing?” he said, slurring his words as he wiped the drool off his mouth with the back of his hand.
I chuckled and couldn’t help but think back to his ramblings about his mother fighting a dragon, a few nights ago. “Not this time, sleepybutt. Let’s get you to bed.” He nodded and followed me to our room. He stripped out of his clothes and fell into bed. I leaned over and gave him a gentle kiss and quietly told him, “sleep well and sweet dreams and I’ll see you in the morning. Love you.”
He barely got the words “love you too” out, before promptly passing out again. As I walked to the bathroom and stripped down, I heard his snore-mumbles begin again and smiled at his peaceful form. Reaching into the shower to start the water and get it nice and hot, I began thinking of one of the sex scenes in Velocity, the book I was rereading at the moment. I’m not sure if the girl was just very tiny or her boyfriend was super strong, but either way he managed to lift her up and press her back against the shower wall as they made love.
As hot as the idea was to me as I shampooed my hair, the reality of shower sex was far, far less appealing. I remain impressed by the sheer fact that neither Paul nor myself ever broke anything trying to make it work. We’re both on the fluffy side, and Paul – having never done a day of real work in his life – couldn’t have lifted me if he tried, and he certainly had. We’re both sexual creatures by nature, so we’ve done our share of experimenting. It hasn’t always been the best, but we’ve had a lot of amazing sex over the years and we seem to just keep getting better at it.
As I soaped up my body, my thoughts drifted from Paul to Dani. I couldn’t help but be curious about the author behind the words; I’d be lying to myself if she hadn’t turned me on like crazy at least a few times. What was she like? I didn’t even know what she looked like, how old she was, whether she was a mother, a wife. I really didn’t know anything about her. All I know is that, based on what she writes and how she writes it, she’s someone I might really click with.
Chapter 3
The brisk air of the balcony was a lovely contrast to the heat of the shower, as I stepped out and sat in my usual chair. I popped open my laptop and pulled up Facebook, only to see that I had dozens of new likes and comments on my post. Half asleep, I scrolled through the comments, occasionally grinning at one, or groaning at a bad joke. Then I saw that Dani had commented on my post herself! I had no idea that she was a member of her own fangroup, and I instantly felt nervous. Had I been too far out there in my post?
Welcome to the group, Sarah, and thank you for reading!
Okay, that was innocuous enough. Generic, almost. Am I disappointed that it wasn’t more personal? I guess that just because I’ve been in her head through her books, it’s pretty unreasonable to expect a first ‘meeting’ to be personal. But still, she replied to me! Even in my disappointment, I’m still fangirling like crazy.
I write a quick comment thanking everyone for their kind words and then sit idly for a few, just thinking. This lady whom I have never met – never even seen – has really gotten under my skin, in the weirdest way. Time to Facebook stalk, obviously. A quick click on her comment gets me to her profile, and my jaw drops. She’s not just an amazing writer, but absolutely gorgeous.
Her profile doesn’t say, but I’d guess she’s around my age, not quite thirty. Her brown hair falls in curls just below her shoulders in a way that mine never, ever has. Rarely has anyone made my head spin like this, just jumping all over the place. First thought: She’s just as beautiful in real life as she was in my mind while reading. Second thought: She’s beautiful, intelligent, a capable writer, and apparently a competent pianist too?! This is not fair.
Browsing her photos, I see her doing signings all over the place. I can see her passion for the fans, and it just makes me like her even more. But on top of it all, I see that she’s from the Denver area, too, and she’s having a release party for her new book in just under a month, right here in town. I have to go, obviously.
Fortunately, Erica is a night-owl like me and was online. I sent her a message immediately:
Me: Dani Collins is having a release party in Denver in a few weeks. We’re going, just FYI.
Erica: Yes yes yes yes. I’m so there. Not that you’re giving me much choice.
Me: I’m glad we see eye to eye on this. Grabbing tickets now and heading to bed. Night!
Erica: Night
A quick trip to the party website later and we had tickets and now I’m just left with impatience. And, unfortunately, a job to do tomorrow. I shut off my displays and went to bed, to curl up against my adorable, very loudly snoring boyfriend and fell asleep nearly immediately. But as I drifted off, Dani’s profile picture popped into my mind one last time.
Chapter 4
For the better part of a decade now, I’ve spent most of my waking hours in a lab like the one I’m in right now. Clean white walls, aluminum work surfaces, hard tile floors. This is home to me, unwelcoming as it may have seemed to me once. I work in medical research for a non-profit, and it’s essentially a boys club; a few women work in other labs in my building, but I’m the only one working in this lab, focused on gene therapies.
In college, I was one of three women in my program and as a consequence of that, every single person assumed that we would have to be best buddies. I mean, we all loved biology and shared the same sex chromosomes; clearly we should all be pals! Except that one of the girls – Sharon – was a raging bitch. But yet any time we had a class together, we’d always be partnered together in a show of support for “women in the sciences.” I just wanted to be a scientist in the sciences.
The other was my first and only girlfriend, Ashley. It didn’t last long, only a semester and a half, but we had a good run. At the time I thought I might love her, but it was really just college experimentation. Between being drawn more to my computer than to parties and my strict parents forbidding dating, I didn’t have much experience with either sex when I got to college. Then – in the words of Erica – I “slutted it up” for a while, dating half a dozen guys (and Ashley) by my Junior year. It taught me two things: 1) I need a real connection, and 2) I’m definitely not completely straight, but women tend to irritate me, so what’s a girl to do? When you exclude hookups and dislike most of a gender, it makes relations with that gender a bit difficult.
I met Erica at the same time I met Paul and she’s one of only a handful of women I consider friends, probably because she acts more like a guy than even Paul does. She’s very much a lesbian, but outside of drunken talk of threesomes that never happened (which is for the best, I have no doubt), our relationship has always been strictly platonic. I feel like I should talk to her about my little infatuation with Dani, but frankly, I feel kinda silly doing so. I mean, I know essentially nothing about the woman outside of her writing.
Needless to say, my mind wasn’t on my work all day, but whose brain ever is when you’re coming back from a break? I got my work done and got out as soon as possible. When I pulled into the garage at home, I saw Paul’s car; not a surprise, given that he works from home almost every day. If I had a dollar for every time he said, “I’ll never again work a job where I have to wear pants,” I’d be a rich lady.
He was sitting on the couch, one leg crossed under the other, engrossed in something on his laptop. I kicked off my shoes and walked over to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing the side of his head. “Hey honey. How was your day?”
He turned to give me a kiss and smiled. “Long, but productive. I’m guessing you helped me into bed last night? I saw drool on my keyboard this morning and I’m assuming you didn’t leave that there.”
“I’m honestly amazed I didn’t have to carry you. You’re not as young as you once were – you can’t pull all-nighters back-to-back anymore. You’re gonna end up with a permanent imprint of your keyboard in your cheek if you keep this up,” I admonished, jokingly. “Seriously though, it’s not good. You have to get some decent sleep tonight. Doctor’s orders.”
He laughed and rolled his eyes. “Fiiiiiiiine. Want to see what kept me up, though?” He switched windows on his laptop and typed a command, turning the screen to face me before hitting enter. After a second of nothingness, color-changing unicorns began raining down his screen, their wings fluttering as they fell.
I looked at him, looked back at the screen, looked at him again, and then just let my face fall into my palms. “You were up for 36 hours working on this?!”
He just laughed harder and hit escape, turning the laptop back to himself. “It’s for a 72-hour art contest. The theme was mythical creatures and this just hit me. Can’t help myself when inspiration strikes! But really, what else am I going to do? I’m bored and this helped, even if only for a couple days.”
Sighing quietly, I nuzzled his neck and said, “I know, love. None of your ideas have stuck for a while, have they? You’ve seemed more and more restless lately.”
“Not one. I have what feels like an endless stream of project concepts, but none of them really hold my attention. But you know me; art projects like this always help jumpstart things.”
“Well, I hope so. I want you back to your normal, crazy self. But really, lovely unicorns. I didn’t know they gave acid to My Little Ponies.” I grinned and hugged him tight from behind.
“Yeah, yeah. You know you’re jealous.” He closed his laptop and put it to the side, rising up and circling the couch to give me a kiss. Truth is, he wasn’t wrong. I’ve always been jealous of his drive, but I don’t envy the stress it puts on him when he’s not working on something he deems worthy.
We sat down for dinner a bit later. He started telling me about the book he had just finished, about an astronaut stuck on Mars and believed to be dead. I vowed to read it, after he explained the lengths that the character had to go to in the quest for survival. In turn, I told him all about Dani Collins’ books and then, apparently too eagerly, about the signing and the Facebook group.
He cocked his head a bit to the left and smiled, finally saying, “So do you have a crush on the author or one of the characters? I know that look. Well, and you just went about twenty minutes without taking a breath.” He may not be the most social of people, but he has always been able to read me.
I flushed instantly and too quickly replied, “Neither, she’s just a great writer.” But then he raised an eyebrow at me inquisitively and I followed with, “Okay, maybe a small crush on her. So what? It’s not like anything is going to happen; I don’t even really know her, we’re just both on Facebook and I’ve read her books.”
“If you say so, lovely,” he said with a grin as he collected our plates and took them to the kitchen.
Chapter 5
The next three weeks of work passed by quickly. About six months ago, my organization received a very generous donation from a family helped by one of our treatments. Their daughter has a very rare disorder of the lungs and they were told that she wouldn’t see the age of six. They didn’t accept this and went on the hunt for anything that might help her; that’s how they got in touch with us.
We had been working on a new treatment for smoke inhalation victims, but the similarities to the little girl’s disorder were clear. After some trial and error – and an unusually fast decision by the FDA to allow this in the first place – we managed to get our treatment protocol to work for her. She’s probably going to have to do a breathing treatment once a month for the rest of her life, but she just turned 12 and she’ll likely outlive us all.
It’s stories like that one that keep me working here. I could be making ten times as much elsewhere, but here I have the ability to change the world, if only for one little girl and her family. But as a thank you for our help, the family donated enough to start a new lab in Boston. So I flew there to help set up the new facilities and make sure that the employees there were on the right track. We’re going to do great things with their money; their little girl won’t be the last saved by our teams, that’s for sure.
Despite the crapload (a technical term) of work I had on my plate, I still managed some reading in the hotel at night and I was more excited than ever to go to Dani Collins’ release party. It almost looked like I was going to have to fly right back to Boston after the party, but thankfully I wrapped everything up there in time.
I got back to Denver the night before the party and passed out nearly as soon as I got home. I’d pay for that soon as the jetlag caught up with me, but it was worth it to get a solid 10 hours of sleep.
The next morning, I woke up with a horrible travel hangover. It took three Excedrine Migraine, a pot and a half of coffee, and Paul’s famous bacon before I felt close to human. By that time, it was already nearly noon and I had a lot of preparation to do. It had dawned on me on the flight home that I hadn’t even considered what I was going to wear to the party. I sent Erica a message:
Me: Wtf do you wear to a book release party?
Erica: Clothes
Me: Smartass. Formal? Casual? I guess the key thing is, should I be in a t-shirt or a dress or something in between?
Erica: You’re way overthinking this, but I don’t know what I’m going to wear either. Let’s get some lunch and go shopping.
Me: Sounds good. I’m craving a good sandwich anyway.
Erica: I know just the place.
I must’ve passed the restaurant three times before finally seeing the tiny sign above the door and walking inside. It was a tiny little storefront, but every table was occupied; they’re clearly doing something right. I spotted Erica in the corner and made my way over. “How do you always find these awesome little hole-in-the-wall places?”
“After we shuffled offices a while back, I got put next to the food critic. The guy is an absolute goldmine, even if he is a pretentious boob.” She took a bite out of a muffin and offered me the rest, which I waved away. Erica works for the biggest newspaper in Denver, not that that’s saying much anymore; journalism isn’t what it used to be.
“The part that surprises me is that you guys still have a food critic on staff. Why not just pay some blogger two cents a word to write your column? It’s not like there aren’t enough foodies in Denver.”
She grimaced a bit and shook her head. “Your guess is as good as mine. I’m surprised I have a job at all either and I cover actual news.” Taking a sip of coffee and getting back to her usual peppy self, she said, “Regardless, this place is friggin’ awesome. They make the best Cuban in the city.”
It didn’t take any convincing to get me to try that, so I walked up to the counter and ordered, getting a large black coffee along with my sandwich. A few minutes later, it was delivered to my table in all its glory. Ham, roasted pork, Swiss cheese, pickles, and mustard all coming together to make my mouth happy.
After a single bite, I looked at her and said, “Holy shit. You weren’t kidding.” She just laughed and popped the remnants of her muffin into her mouth.
“So really, what should I wear? I don’t want to be too fancy and stick out, or be way underdressed. I don’t want her to think I’m weird.” Shit. I hadn’t meant to voice the last part.
Erica looked at me sideways and I could see the realization coming over her. “Okay, this makes so much more sense now! I can work with this. There’s a boutique about three blocks from here; they’ll have the perfect dress, I’m sure.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, knowing the answer already. Erica knows me too well to pull the wool over her eyes like that.
“I haven’t had a conversation with you in a month that didn’t involve her – Dani Collins. I’m not stupid, Sarah, even if my life choices may act as evidence otherwise sometimes.” The right side of her smile twitched as if she was holding back a laugh, but she didn’t seem to be continuing.
After a moment I just sighed and decided to spill the beans completely. “Okay, so hiding from either you or Paul is next to impossible. Yes, I have a crush on her, but it’s just that and nothing more. Hell, don’t you? She’s definitely your type and I know her writing got to you as much as it did me.”
This time she didn’t even try to hold back the laugh. “I may have diddled my dumplings to her books once or twice, but you seem to have a crush on her. That’s a bit different. What’d Paul say?”
“Nothing really. I just don’t think he understands that I’m just a random fan to her.”
“But you clearly want to change that or you wouldn’t be freaking out about what to wear. It’s a party with a bunch of book nerds like you and I; it’s not exactly the Queen’s ball or whatnot.”
Well, she had me there. I thought for a moment before responding. “You have more experience here than I do. What’s my gameplan?”
“Get to know her; I don’t even know if she’s into women, though she certainly hasn’t shyed away from writing about it. Also, calm down. She’s going to see you being nervous from a mile away, though telling you that probably isn’t helping, is it?”
“I hate it when people tell me to calm down. If it was as easy as just doing that, I would have already. Anyway, I guess that’s what I’ll do then. Just need to figure out how.”
We bantered a bit over another cup of coffee and then went to the boutique. They had a stunning deep purple skirt and a nice lacey black blouse that worked perfectly with it. I had my outfit for the night.
Chapter 6
I’m usually a pretty confident person. I’m successful, I’m well-educated, I think I’m pretty good looking, I have a boyfriend who loves me. But walking into the bar that had been rented out for the release party, I felt like my awkward 15-year-old self, about to walk into her first dance. The ease with which Erica handled this made me feel even more nervous; why couldn’t I keep my shit together?
Not wanting to seem like a crazy alcoholic, I walked us around the bar the long way instead of bee-lining to it, then waited for the bartender to serve the other customers. I don’t know if he was picked for tonight specifically, but the very obvious muscles under his thin white shirt and the perfect smile he flashed me had me stunned for a moment. Erica stepped in and ordered quickly to let me recover and I asked him for the same; a Grey Goose and tonic with lemon. Erica has been ordering that same drink for ages, but I hadn’t thought to try it until a few months ago; it instantly became my drink of choice.
After handing him a card for the tab, I took a seat on one of the stools, looking outward as I sipped my drink. “So what do people do at an event like this?”
Erica leaned back against the bar and said, “Drink, mingle, get swag, and get your books signed. Some folks from Collective are also here and wanted to grab dinner afterwards; I’m probably going to go, depending on how much I drink.”
“Have you seen her yet? I’m guessing she’s in that mob of people over in the corner, but I haven’t seen her at all. I can’t imagine being in a room where every single person knows who you are and wants your undivided attention. I kinda feel bad for her, you know?”
Erica thought about what I said for a moment and then chuckled to herself. “If she’s anything like her leading ladies, she’s nothing if not an extrovert; she’s probably eating this up. Plus, you want more of her attention than anyone here, hooker.” I blushed a deep red and she grinned in response; she knew how right she was.
“Hey, none of that. I’m just here for a nice evening out and to get a copy of her new book early.”
“Sure, we’ll go with that. You’re getting low already. Want to grab another drink and find some of the Collective folks?” She finished her own drink and twisted around to put it on the bar.
“Sounds good to me. At least around them you won’t pick on me.” We ordered a second round as I downed the rest of my glass, then made our way over to the group of women wearing Collins’ Collective t-shirts; we had found our people.
After some introductions, we all chatted like old friends. Book people have a way of making you feel included, even if you were a relative newcomer. One of the ladies – Sonya – had seen my intro post in the group and remembered that I worked in biotech; she was a biology student and was interested to hear about my work. We rearranged the circle we were standing in to be next to each other, then talked science for half an hour. After friending each other on Facebook, we agreed to talk later, and Erica and I went back to the bar to restock.
After we got settled at the bar, I casually said, “Looks like I wasn’t the only one who made a new friend.” Shortly after I split away from the group to speak with Sonya, I saw Erica do the same with another woman. Except I saw a lot more flirting going on there than in our conversation.
She just smiled and sipped her drink. “It’s a good night, isn’t it?”
A short time later, I saw someone go onto the small stage in the corner and tap the microphone to verify it was working. I didn’t recognize her, but she was wearing a Collins’ Collective shirt. She called the crowd to attention and then began.
“Thank you all for coming out tonight. We’re here to celebrate the imminent release of ‘Admiring the Infinite’, by our very own Dani Collins.” The crowd cheered and applauded at this, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was a part of something bigger than myself. Bigger than the people that were in this room.
“It feels like just yesterday, we were here for the release of ‘Velocity’. Then again, I’ve been beta-reading this book since the early days; it hasn’t felt so quick for some of you! But now we’re here so that Dani can ruin your life again. So without further ado, come on up.” The crowd went wild as Dani climbed onto the stage and took her place behind the pedestal, saying something to the other woman and laughing.
“Thanks, April, for the introduction, and thank you all for coming. My fans mean the world to me and it warms my heart to see a packed house for a book release.” She paused and her smile sent tingles down my spine. Pushing a stray brown hair behind her ear, she continued. “I know that you’re all eager to get your hands on ‘Infinite’ before everyone else, but I wanted to read you all my favorite scene and do a little Q&A first.”
She opened a copy of the book to what looked like about a quarter of the way in and began to read. Her voice was slow and steady, the rhythm driving itself into my mind. All I can think is: I would give my right arm to have her read me a bedtime story.
“Travis stood at the door to their apartment, his hand on the doorknob. He looked poised to leave, but something was holding him back. He turned to face her and spoke calmly, ‘This is the last time, Elizabeth. This can never happen again. I hope you know that.’ She ran to him and fell into his chest, her tears transferring mascara to his white t-shirt.
“She pulled herself away and then kissed him hard, mewling, ‘If this is really it, make it count.’ They kissed in the way that only old lovers do, with a passion that is only matched by their knowledge of each other’s desires. The sadness of the situation melted away as they realized, in their own way, that it was always going to end.”
“They had been in this bedroom often enough to not rush, so they stood gazing at each other for a few moments after the last of the clothes had been shed, before they fell into each other. She bit his neck gently as he slid into her, the way he had so many times before. There was no awkward mismatch of rhythm, no poorly thought out words. Just them at the end.
“The pace accelerated as he looked into her eyes, silently begging for release as she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him in tighter. Their breathing – initially in synch – became more and more ragged as they neared the edge together for the last time. He pushed himself more up on his arms to give a better angle and thrust harder and faster into her, driving her off the cliff and giving her just what she needed.
“She let out a low moan as her body began to shake, her muscles drawn tight as bowstrings as the orgasm ripped through her. A few moments later, he drove as deep as he could and let go, his essence flowing into her as he similarly convulsed.
“He stayed for a last few dying thrusts before his arms gave out and he rolled off to her side, deftly managing to not hurt her in the process. He took her hand and laid it on his chest as he regained control of his breathing, then lifted her hand to give it a light kiss, before he got up and got dressed.
“‘Just remember,’ he whispered. ‘I will always love you, even as infinity is looking back at us.’ Then he walked out the door and out of her life.”
When Dani finished reading, the silence was deafening. Unsure of how to feel, we slowly began to clap, then to cheer. If she meant to turn us on, confuse us, and make us cry all at once, she had succeeded admirably. God, she’s good at what she does.
Chapter 7
After the intense scene reading, it took us all a minute to get into the right mindset for the Q&A section. I kept thinking about what she had read and wondering how the characters got to such a terrible place; how had they been hurt? I guess I’ll find out when I read the book. I really don’t see myself getting much sleep tonight.
I started paying attention to reality just in time to hear a woman near me asking what Dani was working on now that Infinity is ready to come out. Dani grinned and looked around for a moment before answering, “Well, I hadn’t intended to talk about this quite yet, but I’m just too excited about it. ‘Out On A Limb’ is getting a sequel.” Everyone – including myself – went absolutely nuts. That was the first book of hers that I read, and it was my absolute favorite of hers.
She must’ve known we would react like this and she let us get it out of our systems before continuing, “It’s going to be a while, since I’m really just getting started. But I’m confident you guys are going to like what I have planned. Once it gets closer to being done, I’ll have an actual release date and all that, but right now you’re just going to have to wait.”
The next question was just what I was thinking, “You said that this was a more risque book than you’d written in the past. Can we expect more of what we heard earlier? And thank you for doing all this.”
“Thank you for reading! I like to think there’s a little bit in this book for everyone. If you like steamy sex scenes, you’re covered. If you like things a bit more mild, there’s plenty of that too. If you’re anything like me, these characters will break your heart in a way that it’s never been broken before, but I think you’ll enjoy the rewards.”
A few standard questions came in a row after that. “Where do you get your inspiration?”, “Which character do you relate to the most?”, “How did you get your start and how can I become a writer?” I’d read enough of her interviews to know the answers to all of these already and it was clear that she was bored of answering them every time she appeared in public.
I hadn’t intended to ask a question, but I wanted to break up the monotony. I raised my hand after she finished answering a question and was surprised to be called upon immediately. It took me by surprise for a moment, but after a beat I asked, “Why did you choose for Toni to work in a biotech lab? It’s such an obscure choice that it took me by surprise, being in the same field.”
A wide, slightly crooked smile broke across Dani’s face. “It may seem like an odd thing for a romance writer, but biology and technology have always been huge passions of mine. When I was thinking of what she could be, the answer came to me instantly. In a lot of ways, Toni is who I would be if I hadn’t dropped out of college to become a writer.”
That answer struck me for a number of reasons. First and foremost, Dani is a nerd. Holy shit, she’s a nerd. That instantly made her a million times more attractive in my mind. Secondly, Toni was predominantly a lesbian. Maybe Dani is like her in that regard too. She never mentions partners in her interviews or Q&As, never posts pictures with any online. Maybe she’s in the closet?
The Q&A wrapped up a few questions later. I made my way back to the bar with Erica and sat down. I turned to her and excitedly whispered to her, “Dani is a nerd! She keeps getting better and better.”
She laughed at me and put her hand on my shoulder, “You’re so damn cute when you’re in schoolgirl crush mode, even if it is a bit sickening.”
We sat at the bar and enjoyed our drinks – and being off our feet for a few minutes – until they announced we should line up for book signing. The ticket cost included a hardcover copy of “Admiring The Infinite”, so there were stacks of copies on a table where the signing was taking place. As we stood in line, I idly wondered how the cheap folding table they were using managed to hold so much weight; that many books wasn’t exactly light.
One of the ladies from the Collective was standing nearby and struck up a conversation with Erica and I. “I was really surprised to hear her read such a steamy scene. I don’t know what the background is, but that was definitely sexy as hell. Not that I’d expect anything else.”
Erica nodded and replied, “She hasn’t said much about the story this time around. I wonder what we’re getting ourselves into.” We bantered on about the book, speculating about what was going on as we got closer and closer to the signing table.
Once only a few people were left in the line in front of us, I grabbed Erica’s arm and pulled her close, whispering, “I’m so nervous, my hands are shaking like crazy. We really should’ve gotten another drink.”
She snickered and shot back, “Or a Xanax.” I mean-mugged her for a moment before noticing the gap in front of us and moving forward, inching ever closer to Dani.
Finally it was my turn and I was about to introduce myself when Dani spoke up. “Sarah, right? Hi! I remember reading your introduction post in the group. It’s hard to miss that gorgeous purple in your hair. Thank you for coming out tonight.”
I suddenly lost all ability to form coherent sentences and I have no doubt that my face was pure crimson. She not only recognized me, but compliments my hair, then thanks ME for coming to the party? What do I possibly say to that?
“Uh– thanks. I mean, you’re welcome! I didn’t think you’d know who I was, honestly. But thank you, you’re too sweet.” Smooth.
“I have no doubt you’re a busy woman, but biotech is one of my great fascinations. I think that learning more about it would help with Toni’s character development in the new book. Could I buy you dinner and pick your brain sometime?”
My eyes widened and I said instantly, “Absolutely. I’d love to!” Yes, very smooth. Way to keep your cool, Sarah.
She gave me another of those adorably crooked smiles and said, “Awesome. I’ll message you on Facebook soon to figure out a time. Now, time to get you your book and stop holding up the line.” She winked, then signed the book and handed it to me. I thanked her for it as quickly as I could and walked back to the bar, where Erica met me a minute later.
I was staring at the signature on the title page: “To Sarah, never stop chasing the infinite. XO” After comparing with Erica, I was slightly disappointed to see that she had gotten the same thing. Regardless, I was going to have dinner with Dani Collins!
“Have you regained your ability to words yet, Sarah? To your credit, you handled that better than I would’ve thought you would.”
“Holy crap. Did that really just happen?” I looked at her as I sipped my drink, still in awe.
“Yup, you totally have a date with Dani Collins. High five?” She held her hand up and put on a mock-serious look.
Scowling at her, I insisted, “It’s not a date; she just wants to learn.”
“Oh, I have no doubt she wants a biology lesson.” She laughed and ducked to avoid me smacking the back of her head. Clearly, she knows me too well.
The party didn’t last long after the signing concluded. People started to filter out and Erica asked if I wanted to join her and some of the other Collective ladies for dinner.
“I’m kinda tipsy and should probably get home; I imagine Paul’s made dinner by now, so there’ll be stuff there.”
Then she said the two words that blew my argument out of the water: “Dani’s coming.”
“Way to bury the lede. Aren’t you supposed to be a journalist or something? Yes, of course I’m going.” She grinned wider and elbowed me in the side softly, in a way that reminded me of my grandfather after one of his terrible jokes.