Page 2 of Novel Problems

Before Tania and I split, it hadn’t worried me. Tania owned her apartment outright, and I earned enough to pay my share of expenses and Barb’s bills. And while I’d never had to rely on it, Tania’s trust fund had always given me comfort. Comfort that, thanks to the prenup and ourimpending divorce, I didn’t have anymore. Comfort Barb didn’t have either.

“If we don’t move the release date, you’ll have to submit the book by mid-July at the latest, which I know will be tight.” Emma’s voice softened. “You’re dealing with a lot at the moment, so let me know if it’s not realistic, and I’ll manage them.”

I swallowed. I hadn’t been completely honest with Emma about how much progress—or lack of—I’d made on book four. It was late May now, and mid-July was only seven weeks away. Not a lot of time to write an entire 100,000-word fantasy novel. But pushing back the release date by twelve months was also not an option.

I walked back onto the deck, hoping the fresh air would help me think.

Writing had always been my escape. Having this deadline and Barb’s future on the line would force me to get my butt in the chair and stop dwelling on recent events.Assuming I can write without Tania…

“Nope, July will be fine!” I blurted.I wrote before Tania. I can do it again.

“That’s great. I’ll let them know,” Emma said, her face bright.

I sat down on the deck chair and immediately felt something damp on my ass.

“Shit!” I squealed, inwardly kicking myself.

“What’s wrong?” Emma asked, concerned.

“I just sat on bird poop,” I groaned.

Emma grinned. “That’s what you get for abandoning me and moving to the country. Speaking of which, could you come into the city next week? The books for the pre-order promotion are ready for signing.”

I closed my eyes. This call was not going well.

New York used to be my favorite place in the world. Broadway. Incredible art galleries. Amazing cocktails. Mouth-watering bagels stuffed with lox and an inch of cream cheese. But right now, you’d have to drag me kicking and screaming back there. Tania and I had been together for five years. Five years of making memories all over the city. Five years of memories I’d just fled New York to escape.

“Could we get them sent up here?” I tried to think of a good reason why I couldn’t make the hour-and-a-half train trip back to the city and failed, leaving the question hanging.

Emma paused. “Let me check. I suspect, given you’re one of their top-selling authors at the moment, they should be able to deliver eight hundred copies to your doorstep.”

I blinked.Surely I’d misheard.“S-sorry, how many?”

“Eight hundred and”—Emma paused, presumably confirming the numbers—“forty-one.”

“Wow, okay.”

I shook my head, forgetting my troubles momentarily as the number sunk in. It still blew my mind that people wanted to read my books, let alone pre-order special signed copies.

Eight hundred and forty-one copies. Incredible, but also a logistical nightmare. I surveyed the small living room, which led into an equally small kitchen/dining room. My bedroom wasn’t exactly spacious either, nor the tiny second room, which I’d planned to use as a study. There was no way eight hundred and forty-one books would fit in my new abode.

“Um, I don’t think there’s enough room for them here.” I racked my brain, trying to think of an alternative solution that didn’t involve me catching the Metro North back to Manhattan, and came up blank.

“Let me check… There might be a local bookstore or library we could deliver them to.” There was another pause as Emma’s manicured nails clacked on the keyboard and her eyes skimmed across the screen. “According to Google Maps, there’s a café-bookstore in Sapphire Springs called Novel Gossip. Let’s see if I can pull a few strings and get the books delivered there,” Emma said.

I breathed out. “That would be amazing. Thanks, Emma.” While venturing into Sapphire Springs wasn’t part of my plan to live life as a recluse, it was infinitely preferable to stepping foot back in the city.

But my relief was short-lived as realization dawned on me.Shit.If I signed the books locally, I’d have to divulge my identity to at least one new person. My heart plummeted.

It’s still better than going back into the city—just.

CHAPTER TWO

GEORGE

“I’m sorry, George.” Ben coughed so loudly I pulled my phone back from my ear. “I slept through all my alarms and I’m feeling terrible.”

“It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it. We’ll manage.” I eyed the growing line of customers waiting to place orders and the dirty tables that needed cleaning. Sweat pricked on my face, but there was nothing I could do. Ben was sick, and there was no one I could call on for help. I took a fortifying breath. I’d built Novel Gossip, my dream café-bookstore, from the ground up, pouring my heart and soul into it for the last three years. If required, I’d work myself to the bone to keep it going and make sure I didn’t let down my customers.

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