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The timer on my computer ticks down, getting dangerously close to when I have to stop. Shit. Not yet! Fingers fly across the keys, my tongue tucked against my bottom lip as I get my characters in and out of a very compromising position. But it’s after the big,I love youmoment, so it has to happen. And truthfully, it’s my favorite scene to write.

Considering my love life does not mimic my writing, especially the end of my most recent failed relationship, I can’t help but get lost in fiction that is so much better than reality.

The timer on my laptop makes an annoyingdingsound in my ear, cutting off the inspirational music I had pumping through my AirPods.

Ugh. Fine!

I hit save on my document, unable to help my gleeful smile and the excited pounding of my heart. That was a seriously spicy scene, and I can’t wait to read it back through later and finish it. The way his fangs slid over her skin, drawing just the smallest amount of blood? Damn hot. And thank God for it. It completelytook my mind off all the other bullshit I’ve dealt with over the last week, and Lord, did I need that.

But now it’s back to reality, and I have to get to the grocery store since it’s my day off from the hospital, and I promised Kenna, my twin sister, who is also my roommate, that I’d cook tonight. I have no clue what I’ll make, but I’ll figure that out at the store. How this day flew by so fast, I have no clue, but at least I got in some solid writing time.

Good thing too, as I’ll barely have any time since I’m about to start a sixty-hour week at the hospital. Life as an OB-GYN resident is no joke. At least I’m nearing the end of my residency. Hopefully, things will slow down a bit once I’m an attending physician. I’ll have more time for me. More time for my secret writing hobby that I’m falling more and more in love with each day.

Just as I go to close my laptop, an email comes in from someone I don’t know. I’m about to ignore it until I read the company name at the end of the email address. My eyes round, and my heart picks up an extra beat.

Holy shit. No. It can’t be. It’s absolutely impossible.

With a tremulous hand, I click on it. Long paragraphs form before my eyes, and I’m hardly able to read with how adrenaline is taking over my brain. I scroll past their name and information, followed by mine and nearly throw up all over the coffee shop table.

We are delighted to inform you that after careful consideration, All That Book Romance would like to extend you an offer to publish your five-book series, Shadows of Eternity. Your work captivated our editorial team with its unique voice, compelling narrative, and potential to resonate with paranormal romance readers across the globe.

Below are the key details of our offer:

I stop reading and squeal at the top of my lungs, not even caring if I garner odd looks from fellow patrons. Which I do. But holy shit.Holy freaking shit!A book deal. A big romance publishing house is offering me a five-book deal. Oh my god. Oh my fucking god.Oh my motherfucking god!

“Um, miss, are you okay?”

My head whips over to the teenage kid wearing a green apron and a concerned look.

“I’m so fabulous I’m a damn unicorn,” I tell him, and he clearly thinks I’m on drugs because his face twists nervously, and he throws a side-eye toward the counter as if he’ll need backup. He’ll get over it, and I don’t care if he thinks I’m the crazy, high girl right now. I basically am. Still, I’m a Fritz, and getting negative public attention isn’t what famous billionaire families do. “I’m fine. I swear. Just a really good, life-changing email.”

“Oh. Congrats then.” Without another word, he walks off and lets me return to my glee.

I submitted book one to them like six months ago, and I never ever thought I’d hear from them. And they’re not just offering me a deal on the first book, but all five that I pitched them. I mean, I haven’t written any but the first book, but I can totally do this. I’ll finish the book I’m writing now and immediately jump into this series.

Even with my hours at the hospital.

It’s fine. I’ll just have to put in later nights or earlier mornings or maybe negotiate those deadlines for delivered manuscripts because, yeesh, that looks tight.

Whatever. I can do it. I’ll figure it out and worry about the details later.

Best. Day. Ever!

Quickly I go through the terms and advances, but I can’t concentrate on any of it. My adrenaline is adrenaling too hardright now. Plus, I’ll need to speak to my lawyer and negotiate stuff, but again, who cares? I’ve been secretly writing books since college and publishing since medical school. A total side gig I never thought would get me anywhere other than using it as the best stress reliever ever. Except publishing and trying to run the business of it when you’re a full-time doctor is getting to be impossible.

It’s why I reached out to publishing houses.

But now…

I can’t wait to tell Kenna and my best friend, Katy. My parents, too, but maybe not until I sign the contracts. My parents and my closest friends are the only ones who know, and I’ve sworn them all to secrecy. Growing up in the Fritz family, where over ninety percent of us are in the medical field, doesn’t go well with publishing steamy paranormal romance. Not to mention any time I’ve told people outside of my immediate circle, well, let’s just say it didn’t go well.

But Victoria Nightshade—that’s me—looks like she just landed herself a legit deal.

After shutting my laptop, I go and order myself a fatty-as-fuck frap because I’ve obviously earned it, and head for the door of the shop, skipping and singing as I go. I don’t even care that it’s somewhere around twenty degrees and sleeting. Or that there’s a newly formed sheet of ice I hadn’t noticed earlier since I was lost in my words on the sidewalk.

That is until my cute and not at all practical for winter weather heeled booties skid and slide on the ice. My arms flail and my hands fly as I try to counterbalance the slip of my feet, and in the process, the plastic top of my drink snaps off and douses my cashmere camel-colored coat in a wet mocha mess.