Here is another excerpt from my romance Love, in writing. You will need to read through this to be able answer the my question in the The Romance Review Anniversary Party’s :
‘Margaret, relax. You are going to hyperventilate if you carry on like this.’ Mandy grabbed Margaret’s arm and pushed her down onto a nearby chair. ‘Here, take a sip, it will calm you.’ She handed Margaret a glass of champagne.
‘I should never have agreed to have the book launch here. What do I know? I write love stories, Mandy, love stories! Nobody knows who I am, very few people even know where Kommetjie is. Why would he do this to me?’ Margaret wailed and took the glass of champagne. She downed it in one gulp.
‘I said have a sip,’ Mandy giggled and took the glass. ‘Come on, smile, the first guests have arrived. This might be exactly what our shop needs. More feet. A better bank balance. Remember that. And please remember to eat something, will you? And no more champagne for you.’
Margaret got up slowly and looked around her shop. She and Jen had cleaned and polished the small bookshop over the last two weeks. Everything sparkled. She pushed her shoulders back. She was proud of her little shop, she hadn’t asked for this book launch. If people didn’t like her shop, they could simply leave. Somehow, she would survive. She grabbed another glass of champagne and tried to relax.
Large boxes full of Graham’s latest book had arrived the previous day. Jen had unpacked the boxes and put a few on display, but the bulk was still in boxes. Peter, Graham’s agent, had arrived much earlier and had set up a table on one side where Graham would later sign books that the guests, with any luck, would buy. He’d fussed all afternoon, hadn’t stopped complaining for a minute and was currently walking up and down the rows of books, muttering. She wanted to throttle him at this point. Where was Graham? He was supposed to be here to take care of things.
Then she saw him and her breath simply left her body. He was dressed casually in jeans and a deep blue shirt. He smiled at someone and Margaret turned around and gulped down the champagne in the glass. If his smile could do this to her from a distance, how was she supposed to survive an entire evening of Graham Connelly? She grabbed another glass from a nearby waiter and downed the champagne again. She hardly knew him, didn’t even like him much, why would she have such a physical reaction to the guy?
Since The Kiss two weeks ago, she had trouble concentrating on anything. She would find herself staring into space, thinking about Graham, about his kiss, about his mouth, about the way she had melted into him. The vivid, erotic dreams she’d been having the last fortnight left her limp, tired and irritable.
