Ergo today Vyo and I scoured Borders for the copies listed on their website as being in the store. I searched the stacks, stalked the tables and finally gave up after finding her complaining to the checkout toys that her mama was a bit odd. Resigned to come back another day, I backed into a shelving cart. There, snuggled next to my buddy, Kelly Meding's excellent novels, were the lone two copies ready to be thrust onto an unsuspecting and zombie-hungry audience. I thought I heard angels for a moment but it turned out to be Vyolette's delicate digestive system. Hey, you take what you can get.
Grinning like a fool, I walked my lovely (and huge) copy to the checkout stand and tried to be cool. You know, cause I'm an author. That lasted about 30 seconds until I casually flipped to my story and held it under the poor man's nose who was asking about my Borders card.
"ME!" I said.
"You know the author?" said he.
"YES!" Pointing to myself, "I'm one of them. I'm her, that's me!" I could tell he was impressed by my command of the English language. I just have that writer vibe.
Reaching for the phone, I thought he was about to call security but instead I discussed future book signings with the very nice field manager who told me the manager had a thing for zombies and local babes who write about zombies. Okay, maybe not the last part but it could happen.
And now we dance.