4 Star Review!
Miranda inhaled the faint, fresh scent of bleach and rubbed her cheek against the smooth linen beneath her cheek. Awareness seeped in slowly, bringing with it a certain knowledge that she wasn’t supposed to be in bed. She inhaled and realized the room didn’t smell like her hotel room, which had a faint odor of used cat litter. She’d decided that morning she’d never again stay at that particular hotel.
Thus far, Las Vegas hadn’t impressed her. It was crowded, tawdry, and artificial. She longed for the quiet of her back yard where flowers bloomed, birds chirped, and occasionally the donkey down the road brayed.
No, she wasn’t in her hotel room. And the air didn’t have that antiseptic-and-vomit smell of a hospital.
Memory returned with a gasp of horror. She bolted upright, eyes wide open with terror. She launched herself toward the open door and never made it. A steely arm hooked around her middle and drew her against a newly familiar body.
“Let me go!” Miranda shouted.
“Shhh,” Sindre soothed and wrapped his other arm around her as she thrashed against his hold. She could not overpower his size and strength, yet he took care not to harm her.
“Shhh,” he repeated.
“Don’t shush me! Let me go!”
“I can’t,” he said.
“You mean you won’t,” she retorted in a bitter tone as her struggles subsided. She felt him move behind her, felt the press of his lips against her mussed hair.
“I can’t,” he reiterated. “You’re mine and I am yours.”
“Possibly,” he acknowledged in a mild tone. “If I release you, will you bolt?”
Miranda wanted to answer honestly, but wasn’t that stupid. She wanted to lie, but knew he wouldn’t believe her. Hell, she wouldn’t believe herself either. So, she pressed her lips together in a thin, firm line and said nothing.
“I suppose that wasn’t a very smart question,” he admitted with a small chuckle. “Now I know how Atlas felt when he saw his Chloe.”
“Who?” she blurted.
“And old acquaintance,” Sindre dismissed the question. “Of course you’ll run.”
He shifted his hold on her and scooped her up in his arms. She yelped and started struggling again with as little effect as before.
“Stop thrashing about or I won’t be responsible for how I subdue you,” he warned. She immediately went limp, though he felt the heat of her enraged glare. “Good girl.”
“This is illegal,” she snarled.
“What? Carrying you? You’re my wife. Tens, if not hundreds, of millions of people watched our wedding this morning.” He carried her from the bedroom to the sofa in the small suite.
“You coerced me.”
“A little.” He sat down and positioned his bride more comfortably on his lap, anchoring her against his body with the light, immovable pressure of one big hand. He reached over and plucked her glasses from a small table adjacent to the chair and held them in front of her. With a mutinous expression, she accepted the offering and settled her spectacles in place. Somehow it was better to see clearly, even when the vision offended her.
“A little?” she shrieked. He winced at the shrill tone piercing his ear drums. “I want an annulment now!”
#HollyBargo #SpringfieldOHBookFair #Winter #Books #Authors #HenHousePublishing
I restricted event participation this year to local events, which proved to be a smart decision on my part. Of the four events I attended, the latest was on December 15 in my hometown, Springfield. To be perfectly candid, it didn't go well. Most of the 16 participating authors sold nothing.
I have no complaints with regard to the venue: that was satisfactory as far as accommodations go. Event planners can't control the weather, so the day's cold, dreary drizzle likely put the kibosh on any desire people may have had to attend. Higher Ground Books & Media were well-organized, so no gripes on that score. The timing--two weekends before Christmas--was good and should have inspired attendance, so I can't chew on sour grapes for a scheduling conflict.
Therefore, what do I have to complain about?
Truly, I have no complaints, just confirmation of my opinion that it's best to hold an event such as this where people already like to gather. A conference room tucked away in a hotel ain't that.
If you read this blog, then you'll know we're already gearing up for the Winter Book Fair in February. We have five registrations remaining, due to one cancellation. (She's moving to Florida in early February.) The Winter Book Fair has some pros and cons for participating vendors to consider:
I think the pros outweigh the cons, especially considering the value authors get for their registration fees.
Maybe we'll grow to the size where the brewery can no longer accommodate us. If that happens, we'll need to make a decision as to which is in participating authors' best interest and, perhaps, consider piggybacking on the crowd-drawing attraction of another event. I know of two organizations that already do that: Basement Health Association holds an annual membership meeting and workshop in conjunction with the World of Concrete in Las Vegas, NV, and the North American Power Sweepers Association holds their annual convention in conjunction with the National Pavement Expo. It works well for them.
Higher Grounds Books & Media is considering holding their third annual author fair in conjunction with another group, perhaps at a craft fair or some such type of event: preferably at a venue that draws a good crowd. I'll wait to see the promotional material before deciding whether to give it another try.
FYI to those who regularly read this blog: I will be on vacation--and unplugged--from December 22 through January 1. Go ahead and send me an email message or post a comment, just don't expect a response until after New Year's Day.
#SpringfieldOHBookFair #HollyBargoBooks #HenHousePublishing
#Books #Reviews #Authors
#HenHousePublishing #HollyBargo #SpringfieldOHBookFair