Page 9 of The Ruse of Romancing

“‘Divine torture’ is a great way to describe it. I’ll have to pass that wording along to my marketing team.

Maybe they can use it in the next round of promotions,” I said, watching her reaction.

If the team couldn’t use it, I definitely could when I got around to paying attention to my much-neglected social media accounts.

While I was very good at scrolling through various videos and comment sections, I wasn’t the best at posting, much to Avery’s chagrin.

Maybe I’d finally get around to posting while I was here.

Joane blinked at me blankly for a moment before her face lit with realization.

“Wait, you’re saying you’re Danielle Baldwin?”

I nodded.

“ The Danielle Baldwin? The author of literally the swooniest book in the history of romantasy?” Joane reached across the table, grabbing my arm as if to confirm I was in fact real and currently sitting in her bakery.

“I don’t know that I’d go that far, though I’m flattered you think so,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck and ducking my head.

I wasn’t the best at receiving compliments, though I loved hearing how much readers enjoyed my book.

If only I could channel all of their enthusiasm into writing book two and pushing back the imposters syndrome that niggled at the corners of my mind when I thought about my book’s popularity too much.

“Wait until I tell Spencer! He’s never going to believe it. The Danielle Baldwin ate lunch in my shop.” She leaned back in her chair, grinning.

“Maybe we could keep who I am between just the two of us,” I said, flinching as I watched Joane’s face fall at the suggestion. “It’ll make writing in Cascade Harbor easier if no one knows who I am.”

“I guess that makes sense,” she said with a nod, though I could still see disappointment in her eyes.

“If it helps, I’m hoping to eat lunch here again tomorrow, if you don’t mind.

I like the vibe. It’s welcoming and bright.

Might even be the perfect place to write, assuming you have wifi?

” I could only do so much writing without the ability to research as I went.

And while I was hoping the internet back at my place would be fixed soon, it would be nice to have a few writing location options.

“Mind? I’d love it! It would feel like I was living in my own fantasy. Danielle Baldwin writing her next book here in my shop. I’m going to have to ask someone to pinch me. This is unreal!”

“You can just call me Dani, and I’d be willing to pay to use the space. I don’t want to impede business or anything.” I looked around the shop, certain its empty tables were a fluke based on the amazing lunch I’d eaten.

“If it means the sequel to Of Curses and Pomegranates will be releasing sooner rather than later, you can move into my shop. I’ll even provide you with all the coffee and pastries you can eat.” She waved at the display case.

“I hardly think that’s necessary,” I said, my cheeks heating at her enthusiasm. “Though I’d be happy to give you an advanced reader copy, once they’re available, to say thank you. Oh, and sign a copy of Of Curses and Pomegranates, if you have one.”

While she professed to be a fan, I made no assumptions about her owning a physical copy. Maybe she was a major library patron or an ebook reader. Though I’d be willing to sign her ereader. I’d done that several times on my book tour.

“If I have one? Dani, my dear, I own at least three. I’ve got the original hardcover, the special edition hardcover, and the paperback with sprayed edges.” She ticked off each edition on her fingers. “I just wish I could get my hands on the UK special edition. That cover is gorgeous!”

I nodded, knowing the exact edition she was talking about.

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t even have a copy of that edition.

They were supposed to send me one, but apparently it got lost in the mail.

Though I wouldn’t put it past my sister to have screened my mail and snagged the copy for herself.

She’s my publisher and, honestly, she probably deserves that copy more than I do after all the negotiating she did on my behalf. ”

Avery denied taking my copy, but she’d been dog sitting for me while I was on book tour so often that it was the only reasonable explanation.

“Wait until I tell Phyllis and the other ladies in my book club you’ll be writing in my bakery.

They’re going to be so jealous,” Joane said with a sigh of contentment, clearly picturing her friends and forgetting my request she not tell anyone.

“I might have to get a regular paperback too, complete my collection and have you sign every one. My personal library is going to be the envy of Cascade Harbor.”

Listening to her list off the different editions of my book still felt unreal.

How was it possible that this was my life?

And how was I possibly going to follow up my debut with a book even half as good to finish the duology with expectations so high?

Maybe running away to Oregon wasn’t far enough.

How hard was it to get to Alaska from here?

I’d go keep Sadie company at her family reunion.

Or maybe I could find an Alaskan mountain man and hide away from the world, ice fishing and doing my best to avoid hypothermia for the rest of my life.

I hated fish, but that was beside the point.

Shaking myself out of my melancholy thoughts, I forced a smile for Joane. “I’d be happy to sign all of your copies when I come back tomorrow. Just please, don’t tell anyone else who I am. I’m trying to keep a low profile.”

Joane’s eyes widened behind her glasses, and she smacked her forehead. “I forgot about that part.”

She mimed zipping her lips and throwing away the key.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” she whispered, reaching over to pat my hand. “Though fair warning, my son owns the bookstore, and he’ll probably recognize you on sight. Your book has been his top seller this year. In fact, he’d probably die of excitement if you went over and signed a few copies.”

I hesitated, wondering if I was about to surrender my anonymity, but also recognizing the town was only so big.

It was probably better I met Spencer now when I could ask him not to disclose my identity before he started a rumor circulating around town.

I was from suburbia, but if watching Gilmore Girls had taught me anything, it was that small towns loved their gossip, and a visiting author was prime fodder to make the rounds.

“I could probably do that, if Spencer promises not to blow my cover,” I said. The last thing I wanted to do was venture into a bookstore and declare who I was, but if it meant Joane would let me write in her space, I’d take the risk.

“I’ll call him and tell him the deal. He’ll keep your secret, I promise.” Joane pushed up from her chair and hurried into a backroom behind the counter.

I settled into my seat, returning my attention to my lunch.

I’d eat quickly and then head over to the bookstore.

The sooner I could get this book signing over with, the better.

Then I could return to my plans for the day: thrifting, grocery shopping, and writing.

Maybe I’d even pick up a book or two while in the bookstore, for reading in the evenings after I’d hit my word count goal.

After all, successful writers needed to hone their craft and what better way to perfect my writing than to read a book or three?

Really, it was essential author research.

And if it happened to take place on the beach, all the better.