Title: NOT FIGHTING FAIRE
Genre: Adult Romance
Word Count: 83,000
Hogwarts House: Callie would be sorted into Gryffindor House because she's brash, outspoken, and fearless.
35 Word Pitch:
When her dad sells his failing renaissance faire, the future looks bleak for Callie's beloved summer retreat. Now she must help the sexy, silver-tongued new owner restore it to yesteryear's glory, or it'll close permanently.
As I veered into the parking lot, a cell phone toting knight jaunted out in front of the dented bumper of my growling Chevy S-10. I stomped the brakes and finessed the clutch to keep my truck from stalling.
He was my first clue something wasn't right. Daddy didn't let anybody keep their phones on them while they were in costume, and I'd never seen him in my life. I definitely would have recognized him if I had. He had deep, brassy-beige skin, and his dark, curly hair fell all the way to his plate pauldrons.
I cranked my window down and shouted, "Watch it! You see those dents? They didn't get there by themselves, you know!" I doubt he heard me over my engine. Hell, I could barely hear me over my engine.
He clanked up the back office steps while his thumbs danced a samba across his phone. I squinted against the dust my truck was kicking up and hoped he'd make the mistake of trying to sit in one of the rickety wicker porch chairs while wearing a suit of armor. Still absorbed in his texts, he leaned a shoulder against the faux castle wall instead.
Satisfied he wasn't going to be my entertainment for the afternoon, I threw my truck back into gear and eased forward to the chained gates leading out to the renaissance faire grounds. Sir Textsalot glanced between his phone, me, and the parking lot. As if I'd park in front like a plebe.