Page 1 of Rogue's Path

Roses

Dylan

“Congratulations on your new release,” Dahlia says the moment I pick up the phone. “Maverick already started reading it. We have a debate going about who the murderer is.”

“Next time, call me. I can help you win the bet.” Every release, regardless of how well it goes, messes with my head so much. I want to celebrate, but instead, I hide out waiting for my editor to call me with the reviews and sales data. She doesn’t do that with every author she contracts with, but I’ve developed enough of a relationship with her that she does more for me than she would for the average author.

“That would be cheating.”

“And you’re above cheating when it comes to tormenting your husband?” It’s so odd that Dahlia got married. When we first met, she was terrified of her own shadow and would barely come out of her hotel room. More often than not, we’d spend a lot of conference time there.

“Only slightly. The debate is more fun than winning or losing.”

What would that feel like? I haven’t had a good conversation, let alone a debate with a man in… years. Too many to think about. This career has had all of my focus for far too long. “When is your next release going to be ready?”

“If Maverick has any say in it, next month. That man is seriously demanding. As soon as I finish one chapter, he’s readyfor the next.” The smile in her voice makes it clear that she doesn’t mind one bit.

I walk over to one of the barstools at my kitchen island and swivel it so that I’m facing the picture window overlooking the pool.

It’s the middle of winter and I’m still tempted to take a dip today. Maybe doing a few laps will help me work out some of the stress. Getting a heater for the pool was one of the best decisions I made when it came to building this house. “All readers are like that. They want more, faster with complex storylines, and all the scary vibes.” Being an indie author should make that easier, but it doesn’t.

“Sometimes I wish I went indie like you instead of getting a trad publishing deal.”

“No, you don’t. You would go out of your mind handling all the publicity stuff and dealing with readers.”

“I really would have. But having control over my schedule would make things more efficient.”

That it does. Traditional publishing is slower than dirt. I’d have already written all the books for the next two years if I was working with a publisher. They take forever to release books. But since I’m indie all those books will come out in just a few months. Ugh. Just thinking about books stresses me out today. “You can always write an indie series. But first, you need to tell me all about your wedding plans.” That should distract me from all the worry in the pit of my stomach.

“Weddings are supposed to be hard. This one isn’t. Between my mom and Maverick, they’ve taken all the stress away. It’s like all I need to do is mention something I like, and they do all the research and present me with their favorite ideas. The only thing that stresses me out even a little bit is the bachelorette party.”

Huh? “That should be the last thing to bother you.”

“I’m afraid it’s going to be boring.”

A bachelorette boring? “Impossible.” Not that I’ve been to many. Unless they’re close friends, I bow out of things like this. Wearing a dress and heels for hours on end while smiling isn’t my idea of fun.

The crystal-clear blue water keeps beckoning me. I stand up and walk over to my bedroom. My slippers are silent on the white wood floors.

“No, it isn’t. The plan is for it to be co-ed with us spending a weekend in Vegas and going to shows.”

“That hardly sounds boring.” Living down south almost requires a drawer full of bathing suits in every color and shape. Since I’m alone, I pull out a simple one-piece with high legs that will be easy to swim in. After hitting speaker on the phone, I toss it onto my bed.

“I didn’t think so until I talked to another friend.”

Uh oh. “What did the friend say?”

“She told me about her idea for a bachelorette party. It’s wild…crazy…fun. The opposite of mine.”

Why do people do this? I step into my bathing suit. “What was her idea?”

“Bar hopping with this silly little dare list.”

It does sound fun, but definitely way past Dahlia’s comfort level. She doesn’t even drink. “That sounds like it could get a little wild.”

“And fun! Maverick would lose his mind if I did something like that.”

“A man’s reaction shouldn’t stop you from doing what you want.” Why am I even saying that? There’s no way Dahlia would enjoy something like that. No way in the world.