Page 114 of Mistaken Impression

Let me know what you think.

Best wishes,

Blake’

I re-read it, hoping it doesn’t sound too obsequious, and then attach the file, and press ‘send’ before I can change my mind.

I didn’t bother to explain to Delilah the ways in which I’ve changed my novel. I’m sure she’ll work it out for herself soon enough.

I get up to fetch myself another coffee, just as my laptop pings and I sit down, surprised to see I’ve received a reply from Delilah… already.

‘Blake,

It’s good to hear from you. You had me worried when you bolted back to England, but I’m glad you’ve been busy.

I’ll find the time to read through your manuscript in the next few weeks, but if you’ve made enough improvements, I’ve got someone in mind who I can send it to.

I think it’s only fair to warn you, they’re probably going to ask if it can be turned into a series. Standalone books are harder to pitch and sell, so is that feasible?

Let me know.

Best,

Delilah’

She didn’t seem that worried when I told her I was coming home, so I wonder if she just feels sorry for me now, after everything that happened. That said, I’m not sure pity is one ofDelilah’s strongest traits, and I fire off a quick reply, telling her I’ve got a few ideas for a second novel.

Now isn’t the time to outline them to her, but as I wander into the kitchen, I let them percolate around my brain…

I like the idea of a limited number of suspects being involved. It keeps things simpler, and I’m contemplating setting the second story in a theatre. It’s something I know a little about, and I rather like the idea of creating a strong female lead, and then having her killed off. I’d base her on Kennedy Black, I think, with Evie Harper in the audience and, therefore, on hand to interfere in the official investigation, which can be run by her love interest… the police inspector.

It’s all coming together nicely in my head, and I grab a cup from the cupboard, wondering whether to have Kennedy whacked over the head with a piece of scenery, or stabbed with a prop dagger that turns out to be real. Either would do…

Chapter Eleven

Ella

I look up, startled by the sound of a car pulling up outside the house. I don’t know why I’m surprised. It’s Friday, after all… and that means Hunter and Livia will be here for the weekend.

Fortunately, they didn’t come back last weekend. It might have been Thanksgiving, but Hunter called to say they were going to visit Livia’s parents, and would that be okay?

“Of course it will.” I struggled with my tears. Not because he wasn’t coming home, but because I’d done nothing but cry for days.

“I know we said we’d meet your boyfriend, but we can do that next weekend, can’t we?” I didn’t reply, unable to say a word. “Are you okay, Ella?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just tired.” That wasn’t a lie. I was exhausted… and hurt, and confused.

“We’ll be down next weekend, so we’ll catch up then. Okay?”

“Sure.”

Drew called the following day to let me know he’d been sent on an assignment to West Virginia.

That meant I was alone. And I wasn’t sorry about that.

If they’d come home, they’d have found me in tears, just like I was when I got back here, after running out on Mac. I may have called him ‘Blake’ when I left him, but he’ll always be ‘Mac’ as far as I’m concerned… even if we’re not friends anymore.

I didn’t even consider going back to my apartment, but just drove straight home, knowing I’d got some clothes here, plus the ones in the trunk of my car that I’d taken to Vermont with me.

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