Meet and Greet

Meet and Greet By Shawna Jeanne “Oh my God! It’s Kimbra Leigh!” a man gushed as he approached. Even over the noise in the dealer room, his voice rang out loud and clear. “I love everything you’ve ever written!” Kimmy Leighton suppressed a groan as she turned off her k****e. Everything? she thought, plastering a smile onto her face before she looked up to see who was standing in front of her author table. No one’s read everything I’ve ever written. That’d be impossible. Out loud, though, she didn’t say that. Instead, she rose to greet the two handsome men looking over the books she had on display and asked, “So you’ve read a few of my stories?” “I’ve read everything,” the blond guy in front said. He was tall and lean with a surfer’s haircut, careless curls that looked as if he’d just run his fingers through them moments earlier, and when he looked at her, his pale gray eyes were disarming. Damn, Kimmy thought, reaching one hand behind her to grab onto the back of her folding chair in case her knees buckled. Where’d they find you? And can I get one for myself? Mentally she filed him away to use as a character in her next book. One corner of his mouth pulled up in a crooked grin, and she felt herself smiling in response. The rest of the dealer room disappeared; all that existed for her was this sexy man, those crystal eyes, his thin lips. Even his companion didn’t matter, though Kimmy should’ve been talking to the other fellow, as well, trying to engage them both. But damn, this guy! “Everything?” she purred, all too aware that she was flirting and unable to stop. He was gay, she knew it; he had to be—she wrote M/M erotic romance, and the only men who read it were into other men, not the women who wrote the stories, but she couldn’t help herself. “Come on now…” From beside Surfer Boy, his friend spoke up. “Oh yeah, everything. He isn’t lying about that.” Kimmy shifted her gaze to him, just a quick look, then did a double-take. It was the premise for a porno, right here in front of her author table in the dealer room at Q Con 2015. They could call it something along the lines of Hot and Hotter, perhaps. Because next to Surfer Boy stood Mr. All-American, the boy next door, with close-cropped dark hair and smoldering eyes, tanned skin, and a full mouth Kimmy suspected pouted all too prettily. Oh God, she thought, taking a deep breath to steady herself. Sweet Lord. A two for one special today. Here’s my next story, right in front of me. You can’t make this stuff up. Suddenly she felt hot all over, flushed and sweaty. Would it look bad if she picked up a brochure promoting her latest series and started fanning herself? Probably, but surely guys like this got that sort of thing all the time, no? Women fainting as they walked by, men falling at their feet, children wailing, the sky opening above them as clouds parted… “He’s read all your stories,” All-American was saying, oblivious to the effect he had on her. “You’re like his one insta-buy on sss. The moment you have a new release, he downloads it without even reading the sample. He gets the notifications first thing in the morning before we even get out of bed.” They’re together, how perfect is that? Kimmy ran a hand over her forehead. Was it hot in here, or was it just her? Seriously, she was about to melt. “That’s so sweet,” she said, hoping she didn’t pass out. “What’s your favorite book?” All-American glanced up and she was talking to him. “Oh, I don’t read.” A flicker of annoyance spiked through her. “At all? Nothing?” “Not even directions,” Surfer Boy said with a laugh. “That’s why we got lost coming here.” “Hey,” his friend snapped, “we’re here now, aren’t we? We didn’t miss anything. Today’s the first day of the convention. You only came to see her anyway.” Kimmy frowned as she looked from one man to the other. “What? Who, me?” “You’re my favorite author,” Surfer Boy gushed. All-American shook his head as he picked up a book to read the back cover. “The whole way here, I had to listen to him reading one of your stories out loud. Which one was it, again? It had a lot of s*x in it.” “That narrows it down,” Kimmy joked. Surfer Boy sighed, and for a scary moment, she thought he was going to swoon. “More Than Once. Just came out yesterday and already it’s my favorite.” “They’re all your favorite,” his friend muttered. “This one’s my absolute favorite.” Something about that phrase struck Kimmy and she pulled back from the table. She’d heard it recently, or read it in a message or an email. She knew it from somewhere. “Wait a minute. Do I know you?” Surfer Boy flashed that crooked grin of his and held out his hand. “I hope so. I email you, like, all the time. I’m Darryl Baker,” he announced, pleased as if she had guessed it herself. “We’ve chatted online before, too. I’m kleighfan22030. You said you recognized the zip code because you went to college there.” “Yeah, I remember.” Kimmy nodded as she shook his hand. “Every time I have a new book come out, I always look for an email from you. I know you’ll send me something saying what you thought about it. I love that.” “I love you!” Darryl cried, laughing. “God, your stories! Scott likes them, too, even though he doesn’t read them. He listens. This is Scott, my partner.” Kimmy shook Scott’s hand, as well. “I listen to the dirty parts,” Scott said with a leer. “For a woman, you sure seem to know how to write about two guys getting it on real well.” It was something Kimmy had heard often enough before. With a laugh, she admitted, “I have a vivid imagination. And a pretty good collection of porn, too.” “Well, we’re in room 510,” Scott drawled, “if you want to come on up sometime this weekend…” Darryl elbowed him roughly. “Don’t listen to him. God! You can’t just proposition her like that.” Embarrassed, Kimmy suggested, “You know, I’m on a few panels tomorrow, and there’s a Meet and Greet on Sunday—” But Scott gave her a simmering stare. “How about dinner instead? Tonight? You have any plans?” “Um, well, actually…” Kimmy glanced at the clock on the wall above the door. It was quarter to six; the dealer room would close in fifteen minutes. The truth of the matter was no, she had nothing planned for the rest of the evening. She’d been invited to the Queer Electronic and Small Press Erotic Romance Convention—or Q Con, as it was called colloquially—as a guest speaker, and over the weekend would be participating in several panels on writing erotic romance, publishing e-books, and promoting herself online, but her first panel wasn’t scheduled until Saturday afternoon. To pass the time, she had booked a table in the dealer room to sell some of her paperbacks, and so far hadn’t managed to move a single copy. But the convention was still young—Friday was limited to check-in and set-up, mostly, with some sort of party in the hotel ballroom later in the evening. Kimmy knew if she sold anything, it would be after her talks or, more likely, on the last day of the con at the Meet and Greet book signing, when people had money to burn. She was at the convention by herself. She’d probably meet a few other authors she knew online during the course of the weekend, have lunch or dinner with them at some point, but tonight she was free. “The dealer room closes at six,” she said. “I was just going to grab a bite to eat in the hotel restaurant…” “We’re going out,” Scott told her. “There’s a little strip mall not far from here—we saw it on the way in. A McDonald’s, something Asian, Darryl said he thought he saw a Mexican place tucked back in the corner.” Darryl’s eyes widened with excitement. “You like Mexican? Oh, tell me you do! You have to!” Unlimited tortilla chips and a cool margarita would be worlds better than anything she’d find on the hotel menu, Kimmy knew. “Sounds good,” she said. “If you’re sure you don’t mind me tagging along…” “Honey, please.” Darryl pulled Scott into a tight hug. “Dinner with Kimbra Leigh! This is the best night ever!” “I thought our wedding was the best night ever?” Scott countered. Darryl slapped him playfully on the shoulder. “You know what I mean.”