One spurned editor, one groveling prodigal artist and one hundred thousand eavesdropping fans.
Lindsey Cartwright didn’t set out to become the Wicked Witch of Comics. But then she fell for hot-shot artist Kent Farrington…and got dumped. When he walked out, he left her with no explanation and zero sense of humor.
Kent knows he’s got a hard road ahead if he wants to win Lindsey back. He’ll need to catch her at the perfect time, in the perfect place. What could be better than the biggest comic book convention of the year?
“Um, hello Mr. Farrington. Kent Farrington. Mr. Kent Farrington? I was, I mean I’m a big fan of you, um, your work? I was wondering, could you, um, spare a minute? To talk? To me? Um, over there?” Amy twisted her hands together until they looked like an Escher drawing. She glanced over her shoulder at Lindsey. “I’m really, um, honored to meet you. Maybe I could, ah, get you a drink?”
Kent watched Lindsey tense, ready to lunge at him if he so much as breathed in a derogatory manner at her assistant. For a New York City girl, she was as transparent as a shop window.
“The pleasure is all mine. I’m glad you like my work. I’d love to talk to you, but I have a previous engagement.” Kent took Amy’s hand and shook it. “I will be happy to chat with you tomorrow afternoon if you’re available.”
“I don’t think I will be,” Amy said. “I mean, I’ve got to work at the booth. I’m going to be busy all day, and if I don’t get to talk to you tonight I’m afraid I can’t, I can’t, I—” Amy sputtered to a stop. She looked back at Lindsey for help.
“It’s okay, Amy,” Lindsey told her. “You can have the whole day off tomorrow if you’ll keep Mr. Farrington out of my hair.”
“Would that be figurative or literal?” Kent reached past Amy toward Lindsey’s French braided hair.
Lindsey jerked backward, spilling the remainder of her drink. “Oh lovely. Now I need a refill.” She hurried around the other side of the platform, but Kent darted around and met her next to the tarot reader’s table.
“Look, it’s your turn,” he exclaimed, grinning at the awkward youth who had been about to sit down. The kid, who penciled two of the company’s least selling books, conceded to Kent and held out the chair. Kent slapped a twenty on the table. “Here, do the whole shebang, past, future, Freudian slips.”
“I don’t want to do this. I’m sticky,” Lindsey hissed as he pushed her into the seat.
“Mmm, good,” Kent whispered against her ear. “I like you that way.”
“My emotions swung from crying to laughing and back again.” ~ Manic Readers
“One Ring To Rule is a refreshing story that spells thrills the minute it starts.” ~ Coffee Time Romance
“All the necessary ingredients whipping up a delicious novel, making it a delectable read.” ~ Red Roses For Authors
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