I took volumes of notes on my laptop—learning to type fast was one of the best things I’ve ever done—and had interesting discussions with colleagues between sessions. A few people mentioned my recent notoriety, but nobody said anything disrespectful. After expecting the worst—to be ridiculed or shunned—finding myself treated much the same as always at the conference, with maybe a little more positive attention, was a tremendous relief. And either hotel security had done an efficient job or Brown Hat had lost interest, because there were no more sightings of the creepy guy today. I rode the elevator up to my floor, feeling energized and tired all at the same time, and found Alan pacing frantically along the corridor outside my room. He jetted up the hallway when he saw me. Something big had happened. “Kismet! You won’t believe it.” His grin literally stretched from ear to ear. Vibrating with excitement, he grabbed my hand, then dropped it, and raced up and down the hall again, mumbling to himself.
What do You think about Blood Therapy (Kismet Knight, Ph.D., Vampire Psychologist)?
