Page 1 of Paper Hearts & Plot Twists

Part 1

Before the Conference

An excerpt from Emily Parker’s Whispers of the Heart

So gentle and sweet, he holds me tight

Against his skin, cherishing the night

He covers my eyes, his lips devour mine

Dwelling in him, feeling so divine.

A hand ’round my throat, holding so tight

Sweet lips caress, he’s such a delight

“Good girl,” he whispers and my heart pounds

My head floats; this feeling so profound.

Chapter 1

An echoing thud reverberated through the room as the book landed on a pile of others just like it. Miles grabbed another from a separate stack and set it in the recently vacated space. Smooth ink covered the pages in a loopy signature that read Miles Parker. He dotted the i and, at the top of the page above his signature, he wrote “Happy Reading!” He tried to write some kind of quote or phrase whenever he was signing, but after being at it for hours his threshold for long-winded messages was at its limit. The bookstore wanted some exclusive signed copies, and they were paying a pretty penny for them, so Miles slaved away at his agent’s insistence.

“Are you paying attention to me?” Benjamin asked, his voice tinged with annoyance. That same annoyance was evident in every line of his body, from his crossed arms to his tapping toes. Benjamin could easily be described as “high strung.” He wore stress and worry like a seasoned jacket and thrived off it.

“Not particularly,” Miles snarked, grabbing the next book to sign. He’d been at it for three hours already, and judging by the remaining pile, it would be another three if he continued going at this pace, which wasn’t very likely. Around the room books were stacked in various piles. There was a system to the organization, but Miles couldn’t begin to figure it out. It looked like the setting of a scribe’s room in a fantasy novel. The perfect setting for Miles’s latest book, actually.

“Well, you need to start paying attention. We need to work together if we want to gain some traction with your next deal and have it go through without falling flat.”

“I thought I hired you to take care of the details? Why am I paying you fifteen percent to make me work more?”

“You know you’d be drowning without me. I make this a world easier for you, but I can’t do it without a little support and help on your end.”

“Isn’t talking to you now support?” Miles teased. Ben’s scowl was answer enough. Miles continued, “I tried sending Larissa an email, but she never responded. I’ve also emailed other editors there and was rejected. What else am I supposed to do?” Miles asked, frowning deeply. He didn’t want to admit it, but the rejections were hitting him hard. He’d been the fantasy darling basically since he began, so rejection was new. He could always move to another publishing house, but Miles was not a quitter, and he had his sights set on this particular one. It was something he desperately wanted.

“My contact in the agency said we might get a positive answer if we change your public image a bit and you do some interviews that redact some statements you made in the past,” Ben admitted. “I think we should follow that advice.”

“I’m not going to take back what I said in interviews,” Miles said, aghast at even the thought. “That’s disingenuous, and makes me feel like a sell-out. I don’t say anything I don’t mean.”

“It might be our only chance if you want to publish with them.”

“There are always options. Sometimes you just have to pave the way.”

“Be reasonable,” Ben said. “This publishing house could careen you to number one and keep you there for who knows how long.”

“I am being reasonable. I’m not going to pretend to be someone I’m not. I’ve been number one before and I’ll get there again. I refuse to get there by lying about who I am. I’d rather get there through my own merit.”

“You drive me crazy.”

“Yet you still work with me, and I’m convinced I’m your favorite client.”

“Maybe I’ll change that, starting today,” Ben joked. He lifted another pile of books and dropped them next to Miles to continue moving through and signing, then grabbed a stack of already signed books and moved them to a box for shipping. Ben must be a sadist who enjoyed torturing him.

“You threaten that weekly. It’s turning into a pretty weak threat.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ben said, shaking his head. “But really, we need to do something to get this deal.”

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