Read Online Room Service by Vanessa Stark - Free Book Online Page A

awe-struck smiles. Brightly coloured conference lanyards hung about their necks. They were writers — published and unpublished — their sense of pride clear and almost luminous in their eyes.
    If only I could hold my own head so high .
    ‘Miss Raven!’ A woman wearing a red beret and a blood-red shift dress rushed towards her, her lanyard declaring her Raunchy Writers of Australia Conference Co-ordinator — Sheryl-Ann . The woman extended a hand to Natasha.
    ‘Hello, Sheryl-Ann,’ said Natasha, giving the woman a firm hand-shake and wondering all the while if the woman had noticed how damp Natasha’s hand was.
    ‘Miss Raven, may I call you Natasha?’
    Natasha nodded.
    ‘Let me say how pleased we are to have you as our honorary guest for this year’s conference.’ Sheryl-Ann let out a small squeal and gave Natasha’s forearm a quick squeeze. ‘I’ve read each and every one of your forty-seven books and I am dying for the next one.’ She fanned her face and leaned in to whisper. ‘Nobody writes sex scenes like you. Nobody . God, Gabriel is the hottest character alive.’ A small groan escaped her pouty lips. ‘That scene in the kitchen with the... um…what was it? ’ Sheryl-Ann clicked her fingers, the shiny red polish on her nails flashing while she sought the right words.
    Whipped cream… carrot…argh… what was it?
    ‘Zucchini?’ Natasha held her breath.
    Sheryl-Ann furrowed her brows and narrowed her eyes. ‘No. I remember now, it was honey. I don’t recall a zucchini…’ Her green eyes suddenly widened. ‘Is it going to happen in the next book?’
    After half a beat, Natasha winked and shrugged one shoulder. ‘Maybe.’ Her answer seemed to appease Sheryl-Ann for the moment and Natasha finally exhaled.
    Natasha fingered the key-card in her hand and pictured stripping off her stale travel outfit and standing beneath a cold shower. Though the hotel air was borderline icy, she continued to flush with heat as more and more eyes turned to stare.
    ‘Natasha Raven,’ they murmured with reverence, as though she were the Queen of England. It turned her stomach.
    I don’t deserve this .
    ‘Excuse me.’ A young woman of about twenty years shuffled up beside Natasha, her heart-shaped face blushing pink. ‘First timer here.’ The girl raised her fluorescent pink lanyard that read — Budding Erotic Writer .
    ‘Hello… Emily,’ Natasha said politely, after reading the girl’s name. She was about to excuse herself when the girl’s mouth widened into a huge grin.
    ‘I just wanted to tell you that I can’t wait for your work-shop.’ The girl paused to read from a sheet in front of her titled Workshop Schedule. “Get Your Sexy-On: From Your Sheets to the Page.” Her grin widened. ‘It’s booked-out. I was the last one to get a seat.’
    Natasha swallowed thickly, her throat suddenly dry, her pulse booming in her ears.
    ‘I’ll be there too!’ other voices chimed in, as women swarmed around her.
    ‘Thank you all so much for your kind words,’ Natasha said behind a forced smile. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, ladies, I came in on the red-eye and the shuttle bus I took broke down so I was stuck on a highway for two hours. I really need to freshen up in my room.’
    Sheryl-Ann came to the rescue and waved the crowd away with a flick of her hand.
    ‘Your workshop is not until tomorrow morning, so please feel free to relax for the rest of the day, or, if you feel up to it later, you may wish to join us for sunset cocktails at the bar on the second floor.’ A mist of hope swirled in Sheryl-Ann’s eyes.
    Natasha forced another smile, which could not have been more difficult than if she’d chiselled it out of rock with a toothpick.
    ‘Sounds great.’
    ‘Wonderful,’ said Sheryl-Ann. A dark shadow seemed to pass over her features, dimming her green eyes and stripping the radiant smile from her lips. ‘You know, your books helped me through my divorce.’ She sighed and shrugged. ‘I