The time has come. The final installment in the Fangirl Confessions Series releases on Tuesday, October 28th, and I’m so excited to share Ronnie and Michael’s story with you.

It’s been a whirlwind of excitement at the Philly Comic Convention! From actors in cosplay to face-offs with sexy security guards, confrontations with handsome directors, and daring rescues by artists, there’s some swoon-worthy romance blooming on the convention floor. Now, join Ronnie as she uncovers the secrets of our favorite author, Michael DeHart, creator of the Space Vendetta Series. Careful, things are about to get a little steamy. 😉🔥

I’m obsessed with the Space Vendetta series—every movie, every book, every piece of fan fiction I can get my hands on. So when I found out the elusive, ridiculously hot author, Michael DeHart, is signing books at Philly Comic Convention, there’s no way I’m missing it.

Meeting him is everything I’ve ever dreamed of…until I mention a certain fan fiction writer and watch him turn pale. Weird. But he still gives me his number and promises to read one of my stories, so who cares, right?

Then a new fic update drops that night. A chapter with a detail so specific it could only have come from me—or him. Now I know his secret. And the complicated line between fangirl and forbidden romance is about to get very blurry.

Check out the teaser from Chapter One below. 😘

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Chapter One

I squint in the dim light of the Irish pub and search for a familiar face. Not that it will make a difference, since I’ve never met these women before.

“Ronnie?” A cute brunette pops up beside me, her bright eyes and friendly smile relaxing me immediately.

“Yeah,” I reply.

“Vicky. I go as JustMyStarShip.” She hugs me. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

I blink at the unexpected contact, then hug her back. “Me too.”

She withdraws, beaming, and points to a clustered group of women at the far end of the restaurant. “Come on, the girls are dying to meet you.”

They all turn as we approach, and introductions are made. I’ve spoken to all of these women in our online forum, and it’s nice to finally meet the fangirls in person. It’s not hard for me to remember names once I put a face to them. I greet each in turn before sliding into a seat beside Jessica.

As we wait for the server to make the rounds again, I scan the group. Ginger, Jessica, and I sit on one side of the table with Beth, Madre, Jen, and Vicky opposite. It’s a cozy spot, a perfect setting for a fun first date. I take in the details, already mentally outlining a story to use this setting.

Everyone breaks into little side conversations, and Vicky turns to me as Jessica decides to bounce out early.

“So how was the trip from St. Louis?” she asks before sipping her cocktail.

“Uneventful.” I skim the menu to find something tasty, but first, I need a margarita. “I did manage to finish the next chapter of my new Space Vendetta fic.”

“Really?” Vicky grins wickedly. “Are we going to get spice with this next update?”

“Girl, it’s a slow burn. You don’t get any spice in the first dozen chapters.” I laugh. “I promise it’s coming. Pun intended.”

“Oh, I can’t wait. I love the combo you’ve got going on,” Vicky says. “There aren’t enough fics for that pairing—Jastin and Rayina are, like, the perfect duo.”

“Yeah, it’s a shame we’ve never seen them together in the films.” I sigh.

“Oh, are you talking about your latest fic?” Jen jumps into the conversation, her eyes bright.

“Yeah.”

“I love the idea of that pairing.” Jen nods. “It’s a shame the author doesn’t read your fics to get ideas for the next book.”

“They interact a little in the books but nothing romantic.” I wince. “Sorry, spoilers.”

Jen waves her hand. “It’s okay. You’re our go-to for source material since you’ve read all the books.”

“Yeah, and all the fics ever written for the series,” Vicky adds.

My face heats, but I brush it away. “What can I say? I’m a dedicated fan.”

“Well, if you’re such a huge fan, you would already know Michael DeHart has been added to the roster for the Space Vendetta panel Sunday, as well as for a book signing tomorrow.” Vicky winks.

“Get out of here!” I pull out my phone and check the Instagram page for the convention. Sure enough, there’s been an update to the roster, and Michael DeHart, author of the Space Vendetta series, will have a table open for a short time on Saturday. “Holy shit.”

“I know, right?” Ginger jumps into the conversation. “Looks like he’s a surprise last-minute addition. It’s so cool.”

“Are you going to try to find him tomorrow?” Vicky turns back to me.

“Hell yeah!”

My excitement is momentarily derailed by the realization I didn’t bring any books for him to sign. Shit.

“I don’t have anything for him to sign.”

“I’m sure you can think of something he can sign…” Ginger gives me a bawdy wink.

Just the thought has my body overheating, and I fan myself. “The last thing I want is to get kicked out of the convention because I asked him to sign my boobs. This is a comic convention not a rock concert.”

“Who says it can’t be both?” Beth smiles wickedly.

“It can, but it would be a good way to get kicked out.” I turn to Ginger. “I will not be one of those fangirls who accosts the author of Space Vendetta justbecause he’s the ultimate hottie—drop-dead gorgeous and talented as fuck.”

“No one at this table is advising or encouraging you to rub those sexy curves all over him.” Ginger sips her lemon drop martini.

“While I’m sure he’ll appreciate the view”—I smooth my hands over my chest—“according to the interviews I’ve watched and articles I’ve read, he’s notoriously shy and typically doesn’t do big events. An open signing is a huge win for fans.”

“I’ve heard the same,” Ginger adds. “All we need is an overzealous fan overstepping boundaries and fucking it up for the rest of us.” She glances teasingly at Beth.

“What? I’m not going to cause a scene this weekend.” Beth says, indignant. “If we need to worry about anyone, it’s you.” She points at Ginger.

With a mock gasp, Ginger feigns insult. “I told you. I’m not going to do anything stupid. I’m just going to ask a single question.”

“Sure.” Beth laughs. “I know you better than you think I do.”

The waiter’s return dissolves the conversation. After everyone else orders and I ensure he knows I want a spicy jalapeño margarita, he asks if I want anything else.

“Your phone number?” I tease, unable to control myself. He’s cute but not really my type; I just like keeping people on their toes.

He stammers for a moment, looking flustered.

I laugh. “I’m just messing with you.”

“Good, because that would be hard to explain to my girlfriend.” He sighs with a wobbly smile. “I’ll get your drink and put the orders in.”

“Thank you,” Ginger calls after him before turning to me. “Oh my God, Ronnie, I can’t believe you did that.”

“Did what?” I ask innocently. “It’s just a little harmless flirting.”

“Are you going to do the same thing when you see Michael DeHart tomorrow?” Ginger asks, her green eyes fixed on me, long lashes fluttering.

“You should.” Madre looks up from her phone. “Please. I live vicariously through you guys.”

“I forgot,” Ginger says with a gasp. “Madre’s our only taken fangirl.”

“How long have you been married?” Jen asks.

“Twenty years next fall.”

“Holy shit, I didn’t realize you’d been married that long.” Ginger nods appreciatively. “Bravo.”

Madre heaves a dramatic sigh and laughs. “You guys make me feel so fucking old.”

“You are the oldest in our group,” Beth points out. “Hence the name—Madre.”

“If you were my kid, I’d ground you forever.” Madre laughs at Beth’s horrified expression.

“Seriously, what’s your real name?” Ginger leans forward.

I know it, but I don’t out her to the rest of them.

I guess I lied earlier. Madre is the only fangirl I’ve met in person, but only because I saw her at the airport on the way here.

“Bonnie,” she says.

“Bonnie suits you,” I say with a smile. “What I really want to know is how you got pulled into the Space Vendetta fandom when you’re so obviously obsessed with Throne of Ashes?”

“Yeah, I’ve wondered the same.” Jen turns to her.

“I love both and found them around the same time.” Madre smirks. “But Throne of Ashes has dragons and magic, and something about those two things captures a piece of my heart.”

“You’ve written over thirty fics for that fandom alone,” I say, skimming the list of her contributions on the FandomArchive. “That’s dedication.”

Madre laughs. “My list of fics is nothing compared to yours, Ronnie.”

“Wait, how many fics has she written?” Vicky asks, curious.

“Holy shit.” Ginger claps a hand over her mouth. “Sixty-seven—and that’s only for Space Vendetta.”

The rest of the girls stare at me in disbelief.

“What?” I ask. “Trust me when I say I don’t hold the record. That honor goes to VendettaDaddy—they’ve written eighty-one fics.”

A ripple of murmurs runs through the fangirls.

“Some aren’t very long, but that writer knows the fandom and the source material better than anyone.” I’ve read every single fic, and I’ve been a fan of their work from the beginning.

“Even you?” Beth asks.

“Even me. Whoever they are, they’re hardcore.”

“Not like VSpaceV,” Madre says.

“Wait.” Ginger holds a hand up. “Why is that name familiar?”

“VSpaceV was on a different fandom site. There was a huge scandal with one of their works. It upset a lot of fans, and they got massive hate.” Madre looks between me and Ginger. “They took everything down and went silent.”

“How many fics did they have?” My curiosity grows. I thought I knew everything there was to know about the Space Vendetta fandom, but this is the first time I’ve heard of this scandal.

“Not nearly as many, but the material was so raw, so visceral, it caused an uproar.” Madre pauses as the waiter delivers my margarita.

“When was this?” I sip, and the tequila and spice of the jalapeño warms me through.

“Back when the internet was still young and more like the Wild West.” Madre eyes each of us in turn. “Probably before some of you were born.”

“We’re not that young.” Jen laughs.

“Still.” Madre shrugs. “Most people don’t realize Michael DeHart didn’t create the Space Vendetta universe, though he turned it into what we know it as today.”

“His dad came up with the idea.” I add this little random piece of trivia that really doesn’t impress anyone. “They worked on it together when he was a kid. His dad got inspiration from an old comic books of the same title, and Michael wrote the books. Both are used in the creation of the films.”

“Really?” Jen stirs her drink. “I didn’t know that.”

“It’s not typically advertised.” I frown. “His dad died when he was eighteen, just after Michael finished his first draft. So he took on all the creative processes and grew the series to what it is today.”

“That’s an impressive feat.” Ginger lifts her glass in salute. “To the creators of Space Vendetta, the fandom that brought us all together.”

“I’ll drink to that.” I raise my glass to hers, as do the other girls. We drink, and right at that moment, our food arrives.

I’m starving, and the burger on my plate looks amazing. The rest of the meal passes in relative silence as we dig into our food.

Afterward, we head back to the hotel where we all decided to stay. It’s two blocks from the convention center and within walking distance of almost anything we could possibly need during our weekend in Philly.

My room is two doors down from Ginger and Beth. Madre and Jen are also sharing a room, though I’m not sure where Vicky and Jessica are. I decided to get my own room since I like having space to decompress after big events.

Tomorrow is going to be amazing. I’m so stoked to finally see Michael DeHart in person. He’s such a huge influence on my own writing, and—I’m not going to lie—I’ve had a crush on him for ages.

Michael DeHart shouldn’t look as good as he does. He should be paunchy and balding with glasses, but he’s not. The man is a goddamn adonis with an inverted triangle–shaped torso telling me he works out that upper body and can probably bench more than my bodyweight. He’s impressive as hell. I’m curious to see if pictures and videos do him justice.

All I have to do is stay calm, don’t fangirl too hard, keep my inside thoughts in my fucking head, and we’ll be golden.

He’s an author, Ronnie, not a rockstar. Don’t scare the man.