I Was Summoned and the Author is My Worst Roommate

Previously known as I Was Summoned and the Author is My Worst Roommate. Hey. Alex Reyes here. Former Chicago detective. One minute I’m cuffing a perp in the rain, the next I’m standing in a glowing summoning circle while some smug voice in my head goes, “Welcome to the story, hero. Try not to die too fast.” Yeah. That voice? It’s the Author. The guy who scripted this whole mess. He’s been narrating my life ever since - roasting every fight, mocking every decision, turning my every move into commentary-track gold. “Nice rampage, hero. Five stars for the dramatic flair. Shame about the collateral damage." Thanks, buddy. Now I’m stuck in Aetherra - a world that’s parallel to Earth, except the kings are genocidal, the dragons are immortal, and apparently I’m the latest idiot to get pulled in. And everything screams medieval fantasy. What a classic trope. Teamed up with Veyra—the Crimson Terror herself, dragon princess with fire in her veins and zero patience for bullshit—we’re trying to stay alive while the Author keeps dialing up the chaos for “character growth.” I didn’t ask to be the protagonist. I definitely didn’t ask for the snarkiest author to live rent-free in my head. But if this story needs someone to break the script… guess I’m the guy who’s gonna do it. One sarcastic middle finger at a time. “Aww, look at you. Already monologuing to the audience. Cute.” Shut up. I’m working here. What to expect: ● Snarky first-person, shifting to 3rd person narration ● Constant Author vs. MC Banter ● Slow-burn romance with a dragon who could burn cities. No harem. ● Action, moral gray zones, light progression LitRPG-lite. Zero chill. One very fed-up ex-cop on the edge of narrative arson.