Page 71 of Role Play
“TikTok recommendations,” I explain, following him. “Viral videos about books. Daphne, Sora’s best friend, mentioned it’s a huge driver of sales these days.”
“You already met her best friend?” Taio calls over, continuing his contempt for my situation.
I ignore him, scouring the display that’s dominated by fantasy romance—lots of wings, horns, and mysteriously glowing eyes. But there are contemporary titles too, their covers more bold and graphic than the women’s fiction I’d been examining.
“Romantasy,” Taio says authoritatively. “That’s the hot thing getting hotter. Romance plus fantasy elements. It’s sweeping the publishing industry, the biggest return on investment forbookstores right now. That’s all you see in book boxes these days.”
“How do you know all that?” I inquire.
He shrugs, looking almost embarrassed. “I might have Instagram.”
“You?” Saylor laughs. “Mr. ‘Social Media Is for Validation-Seeking Sheep’?”
“Also for research purposes,” Taio mutters. “Also for work.”
“For work,” Saylor repeats skeptically.
“Professional development,” Taio insists with a straight face.
“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Saylor snickers. “Because I’ve got some professional development scheduled for later tonight.”
Taio smirks. “Work or play?”
“Play. A double inning if I’m feeling ambitious.”
I roll my eyes at their antics. “Can we please focus on why we’re here?”
“Yeah, good point. Let’s focus on how Hawk is clearly falling for this writer girl,” Taio counters. “Calling her your girlfriend to random bookstore clerks? That’s not in Rina’s escort handbook.”
“Rina has a handbook?” Saylor asks, momentarily sidetracked.
“Figure of speech, dumdum.”
I’m starting to regret bringing them along. “We’re here to understand what Sora’s up against in the market.”
“Well, her books aren’t here,” Taio points out, gesturing around the store. “That tells you something.”
The observation stings, though I know he doesn’t mean it cruelly. I’ve been systematically scanning every shelf, every display, hoping to spot Sora’s name. But there’s no trace of her work in this carefully curated space.
“She’s indie published,” I explain, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my gut. “Getting into physical bookstores is toughwithout a publisher behind you.” I glance to my right and in the distance there’s an entire themed display filled with her father’s books. J.P. Cooper has his own section, even though it’s anindiebookstore, and they can’t leave an inch of shelf space for his daughter’s work. Suddenly, I’m taking it personally.
“So she’s competing with all…this”—Saylor waves a hand at the sprawling romance section—“but without the distribution.”
“Exactly.”
“Rough gig,” Taio comments, sliding a book back onto the shelf.
“A big publisher could get her into stores like this. What she really needs is an agent to take her on and get her some attention.”
“But instead, she has you,” Saylor observes. “Bit of a downgrade, I’d say.”
“Thanks,” I deadpan.
“No offense, mate, but you’re not exactly Simon & Schuster. What do you honestly think you can do for this girl?”
“I don’t know,” I snap, more sharply than intended. “But I’m going to try. That’s the deal.”
“The deal?” Taio fixes me with a look. “Or is it something else now?”
