“Oh please, we all get thatstage fright kind of thing. You’re a popular writer, and your lastbook in the Alpha Mates series was a smash.”
Trinity rolled her eyes with a smile.“You don’t have to keep boosting my ego. I appreciate it, but I’llbe fine once things get going. Just first-time nerves.”
“I was so nervous at myfirst signing that I accidentally threw a permanent marker at a fanwhen I went to sign her book. It slipped right out of my hand anddrew a black line across her pink shirt. I feltterrible.”
Trinity laughed. “Did you sign themark? Tell her it would be worth something someday?”
“Now that would’ve beensmart.”
The doors opened at nine a.m. on thedot, and a flood of people moved into the large room, some peoplewalking methodically from table to table through the rows and somemaking beelines to particular authors. Trinity had done her ownshare of fan-girling after meeting her favorite sci-fi writer,Belinda Vollun, so she understood the smiling faces and gasps ofsurprise from the people. Before she knew it, people were lining upat her table, and she was lost in a flurry of hugs, squeals ofhappiness, and reader questions. The day raced by, and despite thecramp in her hand from signing her name so many times, she wasexhilarated.
During a short lull, she leaned backin her chair to stretch and smiled at Gloria.
“Hello.”
Trinity let the front legs of thechair slap down on the floor as she righted herself and smiled atthe woman standing in front of her.
“Hi,” Trinity said,extending her hand. The woman shook it firmly, and a tingle racedup Trinity’s arm that made her shiver. It felt oddly like a lightelectric jolt. She rubbed her hands together and chuckled at theodd feeling. “You look familiar,” she said. “I’m sorry if I spoketo you today already, everyone’s faces are kind of meltingtogether.”
“I haven’t been herebefore,” the woman said.
There was something familiar about thewoman, but Trinity couldn’t figure out what it was. It was as ifshe knew her, but not in the passing-glance sort of way that she’dbeen meeting people all day. It was a deeper feeling, as if she’dknown her for years.
Trinity shook the thought from herhead, figuring she was just tired from the long day. “Oh, okay.Would you like me to sign something for you? I’ve got somebookmarks and postcards, and my books are ten dollarseach.”
The woman tilted her head, hergray-blonde hair slipping over her shoulders. Her eyes wereblue-green like the ocean, and she had a scar on her neck thatlooked almost like claw marks. It was an old scar, but it stilllooked like it had hurt.
“I’d like to ask you toconsider giving Wrath Valentine his true mate,” the woman—who stillhadn’t introduced herself—said.
Trinity wasn’t about to let somerandom fan tell her what to do with her books. Particularly herdream man. “He’s the villain. They don’t get happily ever afters,”she said with a tight smile.
“You do realize he’sdestroying the world, yes?” the woman asked.
“I’m fully aware of whatthe characters I create have done and will do in the future. Andnowhere in my plans is Wrath ever going to get his truemate.”
“So you’ll put him down,then? Because once he reaches thirty, his beast will take over andhe’ll be a threat to everyone.”
Trinity inhaled sharply. “I knoweverything about Wrath. Don’t worry about him.”
“He’s acting the way he isbecause of what you’re denying him, you know.”
Trinity scowled. “Listen, ma’am, ifyou’d like me to sign something, I will happily do that. I’ll eventake a picture with you and smile as if you’re not pissing me off.But what I won’t do is discuss what you think I should do with mybooks and characters. If that’s what you came to see me about, thenhappily go on your way, because I’m done.”
The woman stared at Trinity insilence, her eyes shimmering from the blue-green mixture to onelaced with gold. It was so damn familiar. She wished she couldfigure out where she’d seen her before. Maybe at the author-readerbreakfast that morning. Or the night before, when she and Gloriahad met readers at the hotel’s bar while enjoying strawberrymargaritas and never-ending appetizers. But wherever she knew thisunnamed woman from, she didn’t like her one bit.
The woman smiled suddenly, her eyesreturning to normal. She held out her hand, a necklace danglingfrom her fingers. “I apologize if I made you angry, that was nevermy intention. I just hate to see what Wrath and the Blood Wolvesare doing to the other packs. He’s so tortured.”
“That’s the point,” Trinitysaid. She didn’t move to take the beads from the woman.
“I made this for you,” thewoman said, giving the beads a little shake. “I apologize for mybad behavior; I simply was curious. I understand now, though. Youlove him.”
“I love who?” Trinityasked, taking the beads. It turned out to be a beautiful necklace,the gold strand woven with wooden beads and gemstones, with amedallion dangling from it. She got another jolt up her arm fromthe necklace, and she looked at the medallion, finding it was areplica of the Alpha Mate series logo, a complicated pattern ofswirls and points that was the first mating tattoo she’d drawn forher series.
“Wrath,” the womansaid.
Trinity almost agreed. Almost saidthat yes, in fact she did love Wrath, but he was fiction. A figmentof her imagination. Just like the rest of the world she’d createdin the Alpha Mates series, where people could change into wolves,vampires were haughty, and humans just hoped to survive. And thenthere were the Blood Wolves, the hybrids of a mating between a wolfand a vampire, producing children with both traits. Wrath was theiralpha, the biggest asshole on the entire continent, who only wantedeveryone else to be as miserable as he was.
She set the necklace on the table andsmiled politely at the woman, still wondering where she’d seen her.“If there’s nothing else? There’s a line behind you.”
“Just remember what’s inyour heart,” the woman said. “Remember who you love and what thatmeans for everything you’ve built.”
Confused, Trinity said, “Oh-kay.Thanks.”
The woman nodded and walked away, herlong, colorful patchwork skirt swishing with the motion. There wasa soft tinkling sound, and
