Operation: Redemption (Cupid City Security #9)

Prologue

Serayah

It had been a whirlwind of a book signing.

My author table was sitting toward the front of the room, closest to the door, in a room full of other romance authors.

I seized the opportunity to meet and greet new readers who had never read my books before.

They came up in droves, bought books, and asked me to sign.

I was more than happy to, tired fingers or not.

The adrenaline rush of getting to be a part of something that brings so much happiness to people is one that I hope never goes away. Every reader who approached my table was eager to meet, take a photo, or have me sign their things. That means a lot to me, after all the hard work I put in.

The final reader of the afternoon came up to my table to have me sign his book.

“Hi,” I greeted him, “What’s your name?” The man appeared to be middle-aged, with spikey hair on top and dressed in all black.

His eyes looked sunken like he hadn’t slept in weeks, and he even looked a little pale.

He didn’t look like my usual reader, but who was I to judge?

He sat the paperback of my most recent release, Biggest Fan, down on my table for me to sign.

He wasn’t in the mood to talk, but I wanted to know how to sign it, so I asked him, “Who should I make it out to?”

“Um… I really love you… I… I mean your books.”

Smiling, I said, “Thank you. I appreciate that. So, who should I make this out to?”

“I’m your biggest fan,” the man said, and then he just stood there and stared at me, like he was exploring every part of my face.

The intensity in his eyes was haunting, void of any emotion, and just dark.

I was starting to get uncomfortable, so I said, “Well, here. I’ll just sign it, and you can keep it or gift it.

” I signed it, Thanks for supporting my work!

Enjoy! Serayah Flores. “There you go.” I gently closed the book and handed it back to him. “Thanks again for coming.”

He took it, opened the front cover, and read my note before snapping at me, “You didn’t say anything about me being your biggest fan!

I’m your biggest fan! I’ve read every single book you’ve ever written.

I have them all at home.” The man looked like he was spinning out of control, making my eyes dart around the room, hoping to see security staff nearby.

Finally, I leaned into my personal assistant, Cara, who was sitting next to me, and told her to get help.

The man just kept going and going. “I have shelves of your work. It’s me.

I’m your biggest fan, and you didn’t even say anything. I told you!”

Just then, the security guard grabbed the man’s arm. “Sir, the signing is over. Please come this way.”

“Get your hands off me,” the man was cracking. Another security guard came up and grabbed him by his other arm to drag him out. As he did, the man yelled. “I’m her biggest fan. Serayah! Don’t forget me! I’m your biggest fan!”

Then he was gone. I was a bit shaken by the interaction and felt like I wanted to cry.

Goosebumps crawled across my arm. I had never had that happen before.

I’d heard stories about other authors experiencing mentally ill, obsessed fans, but it was the first time that it happened to me, and when it hits home, it hits so much harder.

Another author who was at the signing approached me from her table with worry in her eyes. She asked me if I was ok. Blowing out a breath, I said, “Yeah, fine. My goodness. I didn’t expect that to happen.”

“Breathe, girl. Sometimes we get a crazy one. Come on. Let’s go get a drink. You need one after that.”

I agreed to it, but I still felt unsettled for the rest of the evening. Every time I tried to enjoy my time, his voice kept replaying in my head, “Serayah! Don’t forget me! I’m your biggest fan!”