第2章

“Um,well,actually…”Kimmy glanced at the clock on the wallabove 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 Meetand 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 stripmall 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 metagging 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 Imean.”

****

At thirty-two,Kimmy had sort of stumbled into writing professionally in a roundabout way.She’d always loved to read,and as a teenager had toyed with the idea of writing her own stories someday,but the journals she used to keep were filled with the beginnings of never-finished fantasy stories of princesses and wizards and castles,and of course the dashing heroes in black,with chiseled jaws and wounded hearts,rugged men only the heroines could save.All regurgitated ideasculled from the stories she’d read at the time,nothing original,nothing she could’ve called her own.

It took one writing class in college and a mean-spirited teacher who loved to make his students write book reports on the short stories in The New Yorker to make Kimmy think she simply didn’t have what it took to become a writer.No one wanted fantasy anymore,she thought.The stories she liked weresimply no longer being published.

Then along came J.K.Rowling and the Harry Potter series,and while fantasy was suddenly popular again,it was harder than ever to break into.Kimmy switched majors in college,from English to Communications,because she figured if nothing else at least she’d end up with a degree,even if she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.She tucked away her journals and notebooks,and her dreams of writing.Some things weren’t meant to be.

With the advent of the internet,suddenly everyone who thought they could write was publishing their stuff online.After college Kimmy landed a pretty good paying job at an advertisingagency,and spent a lot of her time online doing market research.And trolling message boards to see what which ads worked for customers,which ones got them talking,which ones they hated,things like that.All her snooping around paid off;it was through following links in forums and newsgroups that she first found slash fan fiction,erotic stories written by fans of a particular TV show or movie about two straight characters in—gasp!—a loving,gay relationship.

Maybe it was the long hours she put in with nothing but too much coffee and not enough sleep in her system.Or maybe it was what she needed,the right thing at the right time in her life.Kimmydidn’t know.But suddenly it was as if the discordant world around her fell into place,each piece locking into perfect precision,everything chiming together in one glorious moment of revelation.This,her mind cried out in joyous longing.Thisis what I’m meant to be doing!Right here,right now!This!

The first story she read was a short flash story under two thousand words,written about an old TV show she used to watch about paranormal investigators that she was once obsessed with back in college.It was rife with grammar and punctuation errors,but Kimmy read it greedily,devouring it from start to finish and then scrolling to the top to read it again,slower this time to really savor it.Her first thought after that second reading was,Wow.So I wasn’t the only one who thought there was something going on between them behind the scenes.

Her second thought,following hard on the first,was,I can do so much better than this crap.I write so much better than this.

Even though she was still at work—it was late,the office around her dark,but her heart hammered like a rabbit in her throat,as if she might get caught—she closed the browser and opened a blank Word document.Taking a deep breath to steady her trembling fingers,she closed her eyes and started typing.

Fifteen minutes later,she was done.It was a similar scene to the one she’d just read—still derivative,at this stage,but she’d only wanted to see if she could write a sex scene becauseshe’d never done it before,let alone one between two guys.In all the fantasy romance stories she’d started when she was younger,she had never actually gotten far enough into them to get the characters to a point where they’d even kiss,let alone do…well,this:

I stepped into my boss’s office.He was alone,leaning over his desk signing papers,but the lingering trace of cigarette smoke told me he hadn’t been for long.When he didn’t look up at me,I cleared my throat.“You wanted to see me,sir?”

Without glancing at me,he said,“Shut the door,agent.”

I obeyed,then moved to take one of the seats in front of his desk.

He sat back in his chair and leveled a stare at me I knew all toowell.“Did I tell you to have a seat?”

“You called me in here—”

“Because you’re out of line.”He stood and began to unbucklehis belt,a thick leather strop the sight of which always made my balls heavy with lust.My knees weakened at the thought of him having his way with me here,in his office,where we work.Where anyone could walk in on us and know we’re much more than director and agent.Where his secretary on the other side of the door could hear my moans of delight and passion,or the smack of that leather across my bare ass,or the way he called my name when he came.

My voice squeaked when I asked,“Here?”

His firm gaze held mine.“You got a problem with that?”

I was already fumbling for my own belt.“No,sir.”

It went on,tame by her current standards but risquéfor someone who had never written anything even remotely sexual.Kimmy’s face flushed as she printed it off,too afraid to even save a copy to the computer in case someone in the IT departmentstumbled across it and wondered what it might be.She didn’t know what she’d ever do with it,but God,it had been so damn easy to write!And so freeing to know she still had the talent,too.

Maybe she could find somewhere online to post it…anonymously,of course…