STRIPTEASED: A Standalone Reverse Harem Romance (Roommates Book 1)

“Do you want something to drink?” I asked Ronnie. Since she’d done me the favor of looking at my story, it was the least I could do.

We’d ended up at a table in the outdoor section, which was quieter than inside. When people came to Romano’s, they usually dressed up and probably didn’t want to sit out here with insects buzzing around the lights.

“I’m fine.” She looked to be all business, like her brother, but without his flirtatious manner. “I forwarded your story to a buddy of mine.”

“What?” I yelped. Then I blushed. The few other diners around us stared for a few moments before returning to their own affairs.

Ronnie was matter-of-fact. “I don’t write romance—he does.”

Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm down. I’d been nervous enough about sending my writing to Tonio’s sister, and now a perfect stranger had it. But there was nothing I could do about it now, and I didn’t want to offend someone Tonio loved. “Um, I didn’t think there were a lot of male romance writers.”

Ronnie tilted her head in the same way her brother sometimes did. “There are more than you think. Most use female pen names.”

I nodded, but I couldn’t stop fixating on the fact that someone else had seen my story. “I didn’t know a real romance writer would see my writing. Tonio said it would just be you.”

Ronnie shook her head slightly, a small smile on her lips. “My brother knows as much about being an indie author as he does about flying a fighter jet.”

“Indie author?” I echoed.

“Someone who self-publishes. That’s what you’re trying to do, right?”

“Right. I mean eventually. It’s just that…”

“My brother asked me to help, and that’s what I did,” Ronnie said a bit sharply as she stared me down. But then she sighed and tilted her head to the right. “It’s always hard showing your work to someone else, especially in the beginning. But this really was the best thing I could do for your story. I don’t know what romance readers expect and Brad does. But I did read the first few chapters before I sent it to him to make sure it wasn’t awful.”

She spoke with a directness that was a little startling, but oddly enough, that last part reassured me. “So you didn’t hate it? The part you read, I mean.”

Her expression softened. “No, I didn’t hate it. It seemed like it hit the right notes. I mean, it’s not my genre, but the story was engaging enough.”

There it was. The first compliment ever made about my writing. Before, I’d been told it was a waste of time or a foolish thing to do. Now someone had said my work was engaging. Or at least engaging enough. “Thank you.”

“Tonio told me that no one had ever encouraged you to write. No one ever encouraged me, either.”

My shoulders relaxed, I smiled at her. “What do you write?”

“A little of this and that,” she said vaguely. “No fiction, though.”

I nodded, not wanting to pry.

“Let’s talk about your next steps,” she said, suddenly business-like again.

“Next steps?”

She peered at me the way a teacher might a slow student. “I assume you want to self-publish your story.”

“Well, yeah, I mean, someday I’d like to.”

“Why someday?”

“Because… well, I don’t know anything about self-publishing.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

I stared at her, part of me excited, but the other part trying to stay grounded. “I don’t think my story’s ready.”

“Brad does,” she said simply.

“He read the whole thing?”

“Yes. He says the central romance is well developed, but there are some parts that need to be strengthened. He had some suggestions—I’ll forward you his email.”

I felt like I was several steps behind this fast-talking woman who seemed to expect me to move ahead at a lightning pace. “Okay, I’ll work on that, and then at some point, I’ll have to find an editor, right?”

Ronnie tapped her red nails on the table. “Not ‘at some point.’ Soon. This isn’t traditional publishing where you submit your manuscript and you might hear back from an agent or editor by the time the next solar eclipse rolls around. Self-publishers write fast, put their book together quickly, and get it up online so people can buy it. I was under the impression that you don’t have a job right now.”

Ouch. “No, but I’m looking.” Knots formed in my stomach when I thought about how my current living arrangement might look to her. “Tonio, Knox, and the twins have been really generous, but I want to pay my own way. I wouldn’t want you to think that I’m taking advantage of them.”

Ronnie shook her head, dismissing that. “I don’t interfere in how my brother lives his life, and he sure as hell had better not interfere in the way I live mine.”

Her strong words made me grin. I could just picture her and Tonio calling each other by their full first names and bickering like the twins often do. To my surprise, Ronnie smiled, too.

Then her smile faded. “To be clear, there’s no guarantee you’ll make a profit with the first book or even the first few. But being an indie author means you write, publish, and repeat. There’s no sense in tweaking a book for years. You make it as good as you can and you get it up online.”

“On Amazon?”

“There, and other places, if you like. If you really worked hard, I bet you could have it up for sale by the end of the month.”

“But that’s in just over two weeks,” I protested.

“The cover’s going to take the most time. And you’ll need to go through Brad’s suggestions and then get it proofread.”

“I don’t know how to do all those things.”

“You’ll learn. Everyone needs help at first.”

This was all happening so fast. “Are you sure you want to help? You don’t even know me.”

She looked at me for a moment before continuing. “Don’t tell him this, but I’d do pretty much anything for my brother. And it seems he’d do pretty much anything for you, so yes, I’ll help.”

“Thank you.” She didn’t know it, but I was thanking her both for agreeing to help me and for what she’d said about Tonio and me.

She nodded. “You’re probably going to need more than just my help, though.”

“I don’t know any other authors.”

“You need a team to help you, but they don’t have to be writers themselves. Someone’s got to do the grunt work.” She grinned, and I couldn’t help smiling back.

“Like who?”

She gestured toward the building behind us. “There’s a very large man in there who seems very happy with you tonight. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile that much.” She paused for a moment. “Actually, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him smile at all.”

“He’s a sweet man.”

Ronnie stared at me in astonishment. “Tonio said you were the Knox Whisperer… I guess it must be true. It seems like you’ve got them all eating out of the palm of your hand, and that’s good. You’re going to need their help.”

I squirmed in my seat, worried again that Ronnie might think I was taking advantage of the guys. But her no-nonsense attitude about self-publishing was exciting. Could I really have a book out in a matter of weeks? There seemed like only one way to find out. “What all do I—we—need to do?”

“Let’s make a list.”