Scarlett squinted at the tiny picture of the author on the back cover. "He's kinda handsome. Would you say he looks better or worse in person?"
Sierra double-checked the picture to be sure. It was a fairly accurate rendition though he wasn't smiling the same way he had been when he was with his sister. He looked a lot better when his smile reached his eyes.
"About the same. His smile here looks kind of fake though. That's better in person but other than that…"
"You should totally date him! He's good-looking, brilliant, and can prevent you from your inevitable demise in some totally embarrassing way that will make it onto 'dumb ways to die' lists on the internet in the future," Scarlett said with a laugh.
Sierra scowled at her sister. She and Sam had teased her about this a lot over the years.
"Whatever. I don't plan on running into him again so stop thinking whatever it is you're thinking. I'm going to go shower."
As much as she hated being teased, she couldn't deny her sister was right about one thing. She wouldn't be able to date anyone unless they actually remembered her. She didn't know if that was even possible.
Sierra sighed. This wasn't worth thinking about, anyway. She didn't need love. What she needed was a way to get a job in her field and she still hadn't figured out how to make that happen.
Nathan Grant and her ongoing love problems weren't anywhere near as important as that. It was better to push irrelevant thoughts out of her head.
===
Every time Nathan ran into that incredibly unlucky woman, he was reminded of her existence until she was out of his sight. Then he felt that gaping hole in his memory until he ran into her again.
It was unsettling. What was her deal?
Having her show up in so many of his visions was strange enough since he had never had one about the same stranger twice before. The fact that he couldn't seem to remember her until he saw her again was even weirder.
When they were apart he knew there was someone he was curious about but couldn't recall a thing about her. He only knew it was a 'her' at all because of the purse incident.
Amber was so excited about how he took down that thief that she talked about it in detail every time he saw her for a while and that helped him remember. Otherwise he wasn't sure he would even be able to remember how he helped her. He forgot all the other incidents until he ran into her again.
After two weeks Nathan had helped her out nine times. She hadn't been very happy to see him after the time at the gym and he realized he had been rude and tried to apologize. She wasn't terribly receptive though.
The tenth time—when she would have been hit in the head by someone opening the door to a dryer in their complex's laundry room—she regarded him through narrowed eyes. "You're a mystery writer, aren't you?"
He blinked at her in surprise. "Yeah. How did you know?"
"My sister is your biggest fan."
Oh. Well, that was flattering. He knew he had fans since his newer books wouldn't sell so well otherwise but he had never met any. He was too much of a recluse for that.
His editor wanted him to do a book signing event once the novel he was working on came out and he was dreading it. Small talk with so many people sounded awful. He wasn't good at things like that at all but since he was making a name for himself in the literary world, they thought it would help with sales.
"Be sure to thank her for me," Nathan said for lack of knowing how else to respond to a comment like that.
To his surprise, the woman let out a small laugh. "That isn't the reaction I expected from a bestselling author. I can forgive you for insulting me if you sign her copy of your latest book the next time I run into you."
"…you're anticipating running into me again?"
"It already happened this many times. I'd say it's more than likely."
She had a fair point. "I can do that. What's your name, anyway? You obviously know mine because of the back cover of one of my books so I figure it's about time I know yours."
The woman cracked a smile. "Sierra Nolan. Nice to officially meet you, Nathan Grant."
"Likewise. See you around, probably," Nathan said as he grabbed his laundry basket and headed back to his apartment.
He had that same strange feeling of déjà vu that was nothing like his power the moment he walked out the door but shook it off. He had only been doing his laundry, right? He always did laundry on Tuesday mornings because it was when the laundry room was least crowded.
He continued feeling strange as he got back to work but he got back into his writing groove after a while. His characters sprang to life under his fingertips as he typed away at top speed.
This was his favorite part of the writing process. When he already had everything mapped out, knew what he wanted to do, and simply had to fill in the details as he wrote. Sometimes the characters took him in directions he didn't expect but that wasn't a problem as long as he stuck to the basic storyline he had gotten approved by his editor.
Sometimes it was a problem though, like when he discovered he liked writing about side characters more than the main characters and wanted to focus on their story too much. That had happened more than once.
What could he say? His characters were the friends he didn't have in real life. He felt more attached to them than he did most people. He had little control over which ones he liked over others.
In his fourth novel he sympathized with the antagonist more than the protagonist for some reason and ended up writing him as a more relatable character than he originally planned. He had gotten feedback about how people loved how conflicted they felt because they knew what the antagonist was doing was wrong but were still rooting for him.
Finding out that people identified with his characters on a strong emotional level was one of his favorite things about publishing what he wrote. Back when it was only a hobby, he was the only one.