Page 4 of Lucky Shot
I can almost see her, sitting at her desk, covered in books and coffee mugs, pumping her fist into the air. Fueled by too much caffeine and a competitive spirit. She’s the single hardest working person I know and on top of it, somehow a constant ray of sunshine. We’re a lot alike, actually. Only my optimism is on a temporary hiatus.
She’s one of the best agents in the business with more than fifteen years of experience in publishing. It’s not a world for the faint of heart. I’ve questioned if I’m cut out for it more times than I can count. Including every second since I got on a plane in Arizona to fly thousands of miles to learn hockey and rewrite my book.
If it weren’t for Molly’s belief in me and the lure of hiding away to lick my wounds, I’d still be curled up on the couch in my apartment binge-watching another reality dating show. Instead, I’m in Montana, weaving through men in cowboy hats to find baggage claim.
“Ruby?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m here. I will get it done.”
“That’s the spirit! Did you look at the videos I sent you? He’s cuuuuute.”
It probably says something that my immediate reaction to a guy being cute is to wrinkle my nose. I’m having a hot girl summer, and a cute guy isn’t getting in the way of that.
“No, not yet. It’s on my to-do list.”
Fly to Moonshot ?
Meet Mike at the cabin I’m renting for the summer
Research the hockey expert I’ll be interviewing
Interview said hockey expert to learn sports puck stuff
Spend a week editing the hell out of my manuscript
Come up with new, fabulous book idea
Sell fabulous book idea
Easy peasy, lemon squeezy or whatever. I’ve got this.
