Prologue
Prologue
The Introduction: The introduction is like the book’s welcome mat—it invites you in, sets the mood, and gives you a sneak peek at the adventure waiting inside. It’s where curiosity meets anticipation, and the story starts to whisper its secrets
Sadie
Novels use distinct structural patterns depending on the genre. An action scene is often used to hook readers at the start of thrillers. At this point, the protagonist appears, ready to risk it all. This often turns out to be a pivotal moment. Next, we’ll encounter obstacles and plot twists. They require no further explanation. After this, the conclusion is presented.
Horror is similar but usually begins with a scare factor. Next, we get to know our hero and their backstory. The plot twists that arise from this put the main characters in danger. Although some characters typically die in this setting, the central character or characters live. This is where we conclude.
Then, of course, there’s romance. My area of expertise. Romance, similar to other genres, follows a set pattern. The plot unfolds with a delightful first meeting, followed by unrequited affection, then a circumstance compelling an admission of love, and then with a parting of ways for the couple. A sacrifice from either or both of the primary characters is a prerequisite for the final decision. Finally, someone will make a grand gesture to win back their affection. Don’t worry, we’ll get into more detail with these later.
Why am I telling you this? Well, it’s a crucial part of my story.
My name is Sadie Clark. Writing novels has always been a dream of mine. I lost my first writing competition, which I entered right after finishing college. Unwilling to give up, I made five additional attempts and eventually secured third place. The tenth time’s a charm, well, at least in my case. My tenth entry took first place, which led to some publishers showing interest. I selected Eden Hart to be the name I write under for my stories. My main reason was that I disliked being the center of attention, and I simply hoped others would adore the characters I developed.
Having written ten novels, I told you ten was my lucky number, I’m now a prominent romance writer. Well, Eden Hart, at any rate. As people walk by, they talk about or read my books, often on planes, without realizing it’s me. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Like many authors, I’ve encountered a creative block. My mind is blank. My writing is awful. I hate it. I’m struggling to meet my deadline, and the idea that my tenth book could be my last one is unsettling. Ten is apparently my lucky number, but I had hoped to keep going.
“Her heart stops as she sees him enter her small-town shop. The man she’d been avoiding for years. The man who once had her heart and crushed it.”
My editor peered at me over her laptop. Lucy Newton is a feisty brunette who, while sympathetic, will tell you exactly how it is. There’s a reason she’s among the best in her field.
Leaning forward, I groan and cover my face with my hands. “Ugh. It’s awful.”
She reads for another minute before responding, “It’s not…awful.”
I sat up again. “It’s so predictable. The characters in my mind are beginning to resemble each other, becoming a smaller group of people. It’s nearly the same, with the familiar plot and setting, but a few alterations.”
She lowered her eyes to her screen again. She knows I’m right. Hell, I know I’m right.
“Maybe you need to start over.”
“Start over?” I let out a sarcastic laugh. “I don’t even have anything.”
“Approach it from scratch, pretending you’ve never done any writing before. In my opinion, you should go outside of the city and find a cozy location for some people-watching.”
“People-watching?”
“Yes. And not just for one day. You should really take your time with this. Watch people closely, recording their physical traits, behaviors, activities, and the way they speak.”
“You think that’ll get me out of my slump?”
“It will, at the very least, offer you a new perspective on individuals and their lifestyles.”
“Luc, I don’t have time for that. My deadline.”
“Sadie, your deadline doesn’t mean shit if you have nothing to submit.”
I smirked. “Did you mean for that to rhyme? How long have you been waiting to use that?”
She raised one eyebrow. Her expression told me, while I was the most hilarious person she’s ever met, she was serious right now.
I slumped back in the chair and sighed. She was right.
“Christmas is coming up. You usually visit your sister. How long are planning on visiting this year?”
“Ten days.”
“I think you should use this time to reset your mind.”
I had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. “And if I can’t?”
She gave me a sympathetic look. “You have to.”
Even before I left the building, I could feel the cold air on my face. I adjusted my scarf a bit and pulled my coat tighter. My phone vibrated inside my bag. On the sidewalk, I stopped and began to look through my bag. I shuffled through all the unnecessary items I kept for no good reason. Finally, I felt it and quickly grabbed it to check if my sister’s name appeared.
Mellie was among the selected individuals aware I was Eden Hart. I was younger than Mellie by a few years. She found her happiness early on. Following her marriage to her high school sweetheart and having a ridiculous number of kids. Okay, well, only three. She moved to a small town and opened Melanie’s Miracles. I’ve never had such delicious coffee before. This isn’t just sibling loyalty speaking. She desired to locate her coffee shop closer to the city, but profitability was doubtful because of the existing major businesses. As a result, she moved two states away and built her company from the very beginning.
“Hey Mellie.”
“Uh-oh. What’s wrong?”
I have no clue how, but she always knew what I was feeling. Without even looking at me. It’s possible she had secret drones spying on me. I checked the sky briefly, you know, for good measure.
“Nothing. Just got out of a meeting.”
“That’s right! How’s the book coming?”
I huffed, “It’s not. Lucy wants me to take time and reset.”
“Reset?”
I explained my circumstances and passed along what Lucy had advised. I could tell you about my conversation with my sister, but I think it would be repetitive.
“Well, this couldn’t be more perfect!”
“My writer’s block is perfect?”
She giggled, “You know what I mean. It’s the perfect time to get out of the city. You’re not getting out of this one.”
I groaned, aware of my repeated cancellations of prior visits. “I would never back out of Christmas.”
“The kids miss you.”
“I miss them too.”
“You are their favorite aunt.”
“I’m their only aunt.”
Her laughter brought a smile to my face. Mellie was freakishly cheerful. Probably because she had amazing kids, a sexy as hell husband who adored her, and a successful business.
“Who’s on the phone?” I could hear Jaxon in the background.
“It’s Sadie,” she said, her voice muffled.
Before Jaxon’s deep voice came through the phone, there was a shuffling sound. “Hey Sades.”
“Hey Jax.”
“Do you still want me to pick you up at the airport?”
“Please!”
“You've got it.”
Mellie’s voice came back on. “I am so excited to see you.”
I could practically feel her jumping up and down.
“Me too, Mellie. Okay, I just got to my building. I’ll see you soon.”
The door to my apartment building opened before I reached it.
“Hey, Finley.”
As I walked by, he gave a nod. “Ms. Clark.”
“Oh,” he said, turning toward me once he made sure the door was securely closed.
Finley took building safety very seriously. It wouldn’t make a difference anyway. Finley wasn’t a doorman; he was the epitome of a bodyguard. Naturally, my idea of a doorman is based on the movie characters I’ve seen, typically wearing a button-down coat, gloves, and a hat. Finley seemed like he could easily be the chief bodyguard or a seductive assassin in my novels.
The sight of the attractive olive-skinned man in the three-piece suit always made her flustered. She couldn’t resist the impulse to run her fingers through his sleek, dark hair. She fantasized about tracing her nails down his arms while he held her against the front desk.
“Ms. Clark?”
The sound of my name made me jump, which caused the main character in my imagined hotel romance to laugh.
“I said a package came for you.”
I knew who sent it before I even picked up the thin, small package.
Speaking of hotel moguls.
Trent Donohue’s father was a very wealthy and successful businessman who had made his fortune in the hotel industry, with chains all over the country.
Trent was a genuinely good and kind person. He wasn’t the playboy type, nor did he chase women, and he never bragged about how much money he had.
So, what’s the problem, you ask?
I just didn’t feel that spark. That exhilarating feeling in your stomach. Your face flushes and your skin tingles when they’re around. Knowing that one touch alone could be your ruin. Although I can’t be certain that actually exists outside of fiction. I was certain I would not find out with Trent.
The moment I entered the elevator, my phone vibrated.
Trent.
“Hey Trent.”
“Hey babe! How did the meeting go?”
He knew I’d told him not to use that name, but I did not react.
I sighed. “It was fine. Nothing I wasn’t expecting.”
Trent knew my job involved writing and publishing, but I never elaborated. He never asked for further explanation.
“Are you sure you can’t come with me to my sister’s?” I held my phone to my shoulder as I unlocked the door.
“Sorry, babe. I have to finish up some end of the year stuff for work.”
“Right.”
With a sad nod, I put everything on my kitchen counter. That’s what I figured he’d say. It had been nearly a year, and he still hadn’t met my family. I occasionally thought he believed gifts could make up for his extended absences. While others might be content with that, I wasn’t.
“Did you get my gift?”
I flipped open the black box that was on my counter. The light reflected off of the sparkling, colorful gems. It was stunningly beautiful.
“I did. Thank you. It’s stunning, but you didn’t need to do that.”
“Of course I did. It reminded me of you.”
It shouldn’t. It’s not something I’d choose to wear.
“Now don’t think that’s your Christmas present. I have something else for that.”
I winced. “Trent, maybe we should use this time apart to figure out what we truly want.”
There was a long pause. “I don’t understand. Is there someone else?”
“No, that’s not…”
“Is it that guy from the publishing house?”
“What?”
“The person you’re always having lunch and dinner with.”
I groaned loudly. “Oh, my God. Lucy’s gay assistant, Carlo? No, I’m not seeing him. This isn’t about other people.”
The conversation was going in a different direction, and I was losing control. That’s what Trent did, though. He would talk and manipulate the situation so that you would apologize, even though you wouldn’t understand what had just occurred. I regret saying anything on the phone, but we haven’t seen each other recently.
“Don’t take your frustration out on me just because your meeting was awful.”
I felt anger rising, and my face grew warm. “I have to go, Trent. Enjoy your holiday. We’ll talk when I get back.”
“No need. Have a nice life, Sadie.”
I ended the call before he could say anything else.
Following my conversation with Trent, I switched my flight to an earlier time, packed some bags, and then crashed on the couch. Feeling drained and lacking the motivation to get food, I stared at the ceiling and gradually fell asleep.
