Sunday, March 9, 2014

Dreamer, writer and hopeless romantic: One Picture

My book signing cherry was popped yesterday.  It was a sweet and gentle lovemaking.  I met some fantastic readers, bloggers, and other authors.



I was supposed to take a lot of pictures.  But I didn't. 


I mean, I was in a lot of pictures.  That was both overwhelming and humbling.  
I met local readers, and I was able to talk to them about the Miami flavor in The Do Over Series.  We laughed at some things that might get lost on others like freezing when it's 68 degrees or Rick setting the heater to 85 degrees to defrost. 


On a side note, when I arrived at the Bahia Mar, I froze my butt off. In fact, as I was waiting for the bell hop, I was shivering. I think it might have been 70 degrees but it felt like -10.  (Just go with me on that one)

But alas, I did take one picture.  And yes, there's a little story behind this one. 


The sky was a beautiful crisp blue and the palms swayed with the wind, dancing a sensual Rumba.  But my heart was doing more of a Merengue or Salsa with it's fast beat. This was it. My first signing as an author.  

Before I could make it into the building, E.K. Blair pulled up in her SUV. Relief. I know her. Never discount the power of the pack.  There's an inherent feeling of safety in numbers.  And when I saw Daisy and Ciara, the adrenalin surging through my body at rocket speed slowed down, and I was able to function and not make a total fool of myself in an awkward, geeky, nerdy kind of way.  At least I hope I didn't. The jury is still out on that.

Ah, then Sandi showed up with my badge. I felt like a superhero.  No, I didn't have any magical powers that allowed shape shifting--as in making me a size 4 and making my muffin top vanish. No it was a badge of courage and accomplishment. 

DeNiro said it best. Yeah, he gets me.



Fast forward to the story behind the ONE PICTURE I did take.

So, after lunch, I stretched  and felt like a cow for eating too much. My only consolation was that I didn't have any cheesecake. That alone should have erased the calories I did consume. 

Pulling out my phone, I saw that Alison Bailey posted on Facebook that there was this hottie here at the signing and that I HAD to go find him. 

Huh?  What was she talking about?  There was no hot guy here. That little bit of information would have spread like a wild fire through the Everglades during the dry season.

 Alison, if you don't know already, is a little pushy and demanding. When did she think she became the boss of me?  I rolled my eyes. 

I spotted Daisy, making her way back to SL Jenning's table with Ciara along her side. Sidling up to them, I said, "Alison is smoking crack. She told me there was some hottie here." 

Daisy giggled and had the look of someone getting her hand caught in the cookie jar. "Yes, there is." She pulled out her phone and showed me his picture. 


Ciara added something about his tattoos. While I'm not an ink girl, I don't know, I was intrigued.  

"What is wrong with you?" I asked shocked. "I thought we were friends."  Shaking my head, I concluded, "You're both officially fired." 

To make matters worse, they pointed him out, getting into the elevator. My chance went poof, up in elevator fumes. Oh well. I let Alison and the girls know that I missed my opportunity to see the hottie up close and personal. 

The signing continued. I met some more readers and chatted with some bloggers. But there was a nagging feeling in the back of my mind. I'm not a quitter. This guy couldn't be gone, gone. He had to be here. So, I snuck to the other room and saw him with a crowd of people around him. Were they all for him?

I turned around and walked out, feeling like a silly school girl who was checking out the hot guy. As I planned my cool exit, I ran into an author friend, who will remain nameless. "Did you see, all those crazy women hanging on that guy? Ugh, he's okay, I guess but not my type."  I thought..."Yeah, what she said. Whatever. I'm so over the hottie, with the abs and great body." (Did I convince you? Nah. I don't even believe that)

I went back to my table but the wheels in my head kept spinning. I couldn't give up. Since I'm a woman of do-overs and believe in redemption, I gave Daisy a second chance to make it up to me. She'd break the ice. And that she did. We walked through the crowd and right up to Assad.

He was charming and offered light banter...just the right amount to make me feel like not so much like a silly school girl but like a woman. Of course, the smooth lines I could have exchanged came after when I was sitting at my table, in the other room, feeling like a little girl with a crush.

The thoughts going through my head at that moment: "Can I touch him?"


He mentioned being on the cover of my next book. I looked at him and then at Daisy. "I think he might make a good Rick."  

Without skipping a beat, he added, "Oh Enrique."

Hmm, this might work. "Yes, his name actually is Enrique."




I am a dreamer, writer and hopeless romantic. AND a firm believer in happily ever afters.

~Ana

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