# Read the first page of Seven Days in June by Tia Williams

Read the opening of Seven Days in June by Tia Williams free, no signup. Two writers reunite years after a teenage week madly in love.

- Page: https://uncovered.ink/read/seven-days-in-june-tia-williams
- Genre: Romance
- Year: 2021
- ISBN: 9781538719114
- Read it blind (cover and title hidden): https://uncovered.ink/?b=9781538719114&s=read-page
- Buy: https://bookshop.org/a/125786/9781538719114
- Borrow: https://search.worldcat.org/search?q=9781538719114

## The opening

IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 2019, THIRTY-TWO-YEAR-OLD EVA MERCY NEARLY choked to death on a piece of gum. She’d been attempting to masturbate when the gum lodged in her throat, cutting off her air supply. As she slowly blacked out, she kept imagining her daughter, Audre, finding her flailing about in Christmas jammies while clutching a tube of strawberry lube and a dildo called the Quarterback (which vibrated at a much higher frequency than advertised—gum-choking frequency). The obituary headline would be “Death by Dildo.” Hell of a legacy to leave her orphaned twelve-year-old.

Eva didn’t die, though. She eventually coughed up the gum. Shaken, she buried the Quarterback in a drawer full of hip-hop concert tees, slipped on her ancient cameo ring, and padded down the hall to wake up Audre for her BFF’s Hamptons birthday party. She had no time to dwell on her brush with mortality.

While she’d admit to being a damn good mom and a capable novelist, Eva’s true talent was her ability to push weird shit aside and get on with life. This time, she did it a little too well and missed the obvious.

When Eva Mercy was little, her mom had told her that Creole women see signs. This was back when Eva’s only understanding of “Creole” was that it was vaguely connected to Louisiana and Black people with French last names. It wasn’t until junior high that she realized her mom was—what’s a fair word?—eccentric and curated “signs” to justify her whims. (Mariah Carey released an album called Charmbracelet? Let’s blow rent on cubic zirconia charms at Zales!) Point is, Eva was wired to believe that the universe sent her messages.

So it should’ve occurred to her to expect a life-altering drama after Tridentgate. After all, she’d had a near-death experience before.

And that time—like this one—she woke up to her world forever changed.

“A TOAST TO OUR SEX GODDESS, EVA MERCY!” HOLLERED A CHERUB OF a woman, raising her champagne glass. Eva, whose throat was still raspy from yesterday’s gum incident, coughed back a snort at “sex goddess.”

The forty women crammed around long dining tables cheered loudly. They were bombed. The book club, composed of rowdy, upper-middle-class white women on the business end of their fifties, had traveled from Dayton, Ohio, all the way to Manhattan to celebrate Eva with a brunch. The occasion was the fifteenth anniversary of her bestselling (well, formerly bestselling) erotica series, Cursed.

Lacey, president of the chapter, adjusted her purple witch hat and turned to Eva, who was at the head of the table. “Today,” she bellowed, “we celebrate the magical day we met our bronze-eyed vampire, Sebastian—and his true love, the badass unwicked witch, Gia!”

The tables erupted in squeals. Eva was relieved that Times Square’s deliriously cheesy S&M-themed restaurant, A Place of Yes, had provided a private room. And oh, what a room. The ceiling was awash in red velvet, and a web of bondage ropes and riding crops decorated the walls. Goth candelabras dangled dangerously low over the black lacquered tables.

The Menu of Pain/Pleasure was the tourist attraction. Depending upon your selection, waitstaff in bondage gear would lightly flog you or do a lap dance or whatever. If you so desired.

Eva did not desire. But she was a good sport, and the Real

Housewives of Dayton had traveled such a long way. These were her people—the rabid fandom who kept her afloat. Especially recently, as the vampire phenomenon (and her book sales) had cooled off.

So Eva chose “Cuffs + Cookies” off the menu.

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