Now I'm just gonna spend what's left from the wedding fund on books to help me escape my miserable life.

Pushing away from the desk, I go to the bathroom and stare at my bleary appearance. My hair is in a lumpy ponytail, my eyes rimmed with red, and nose red as well. I've spent the day eating ice cream and am almost surprised it doesn't already show on my otherwise trim body. A true bookworm introvert who hates to leave the house, I've done a thirty-minute yoga video religiously every day in my living room for the past three years since leaving my mom's house. With striking blue-green eyes and dark hair, I'm pretty but also plain.

According to Jason. What a bastard. I can count the number of compliments he's given me since we met on one hand. Our relationship is always like a rollercoaster: brief periods of euphoria followed by months of despair.

I wash my face before returning to my desk.

"Take me away, mysterious LF," I tell the laptop.

I go down the checklist I made of essential characters that appear in every one of LF's books. Part of the fun is figuring out who is whom before the author reveals it.

"I've got the Fool, the Betrayer, the Devoted-but-Doomed guy, the Red Herring, the Loyal Second-in-Command, Beautiful Maiden, Love Interest, Villain, a bunch of minions . . ." I pause. My thoughts go to the Shadow Knight. "The Hero. Hmm. Can the biggest, most violent, mysterious, and relentless badass - with no possibility of redemption - be a hero?"

I lean back and sigh.

"No, he can't," I answer my own question. "And a . . . creature like him can never have a love interest. No one in their right mind would want to be with him." Normally I'm able to spot the end game of a novel a couple of chapters in, but this is something different entirely. "How can a book have no hero or love story? What the hell is LF doing?"

The Shadow Knight is unlike any of the characters LF has ever written about. He doesn't fit any of the profiles of the characters LF includes in her books and thinking about him makes me feel . . . edgy. Scared or uneasy because he seems so real. When I read his passages, I can almost hear his deep, gravelly voice and smell the scent of horse leathers.

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Which is silly. It's the sign of a great author, not me going crazy. Besides, what reader fears fictional characters?

"So we have a romance with no hero and no love story." I rest my head on my desk, exhausted. "I didn't think that was possible. At least he's sexy."




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