setting him aflame. “And you are too,” she added softly.
“Are too what?” he asked around the lump in his throat.
“Capable of love. But first, you got to love yourself, and I don’t mean the arrogant I’m god’s-gift-to-women type of love yourself, but the I-am-worthy-of-love type of love yourself.” With one last penetrating glance, she rose from the table and took her notebook with her.
Victor stared after her, shocked and confused. He’d said that out loud?
Chapter Eight
“You are gathered here for your second elimination challenge. The winner of the e-book publisher challenge, Felicity, will be able manipulate this challenge. Whoever loses this challenge will be closing their manuscript and going home. One of you will continue on to become the next bestseller, 100,000 dollars richer, with a Bright House publishing contract in hand.”
Felicity only partially listened to Ophelia this time. She was more focused on the table in front of them. It had a row of pencils on it. Whatever they were doing, were they writing by hand? That could take a while. She shoved her hands in her jeans’ pockets, not sure what else to do with them as she waited to hear the assignment and figure out how she could manipulate it.
Ophelia spoke again, standing right in front of Felicity. “We’ve addressed the process of writing a query, choosing a publisher, and today we talk about another major milestone in an author’s life, and a necessary step for being a bestseller. Working with an editor on making your book all it can and should be and then some.”
“Oooh.”
“Oh no,” A man groaned. Victor? She fought the urge to glance around. Something told her he would be a know-it-all during the editing process. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“Felicity,” Ophelia beckoned her forward, toward the table, “you have the power to match an editor with an author. Editors, please come out and introduce yourselves.”
Six people stepped out from behind a screen — three women and three men. They wore a mixture of eclectic attire. Some had chosen a suit and tie combination. One was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Two wore dresses. One was scantily clad. Felicity wrinkled her nose. She’d make sure she wouldn’t assign that one to Victor.
Why not? It may throw him off his game , her evil gremlin whispered. Because I don’t like the idea of him checking out other women! Felicity shook her head just enough that no one would notice and focused on the editors in front of her.
“My name is Steve, and I have twenty years editing experience. I work for a major publisher in New York. I don’t argue or waste time. If you want your manuscript to sell, you just listen to me,” a bald man in a suit said, his voice no-nonsense.
“My name is Lucinda, and I work for an e-book publisher that’s been in the business for five years. My authors do pretty well. I’m familiar with head-hopping, grammar, punctuation, etcetera. I’ll make your book great,” the scantily clad redhead said.
“I’m James. I work for a solid publishing house in California. I’ve been editing for fifteen years. I especially enjoy military and historical,” another suited man stated.
I will not give him to Roy then . Felicity’s gaze traveled to the next editor, a very modestly dressed woman.
“I’m Tabitha. I have seven years with a children’s book publisher.”
Felicity’s eyes widened. Oh, oh, oh. I know who I’ll give her to .
“My name is Brent,” an African-American man spoke up. “I am well-known for fact checking. If you don’t have your facts right, I’ll take you down. If you give me inaccuracy, you don’t deserve to be heard … or read. I’m a stickler for facts.” He smiled, a flash of white against dark.
A woman in a business suit with her hair pulled back into a severe bun, her mouth a firm line on her face, was next. “My name is Ms. Friar. I am the hardest editor you will ever have, that’s if you
“Are too what?” he asked around the lump in his throat.
“Capable of love. But first, you got to love yourself, and I don’t mean the arrogant I’m god’s-gift-to-women type of love yourself, but the I-am-worthy-of-love type of love yourself.” With one last penetrating glance, she rose from the table and took her notebook with her.
Victor stared after her, shocked and confused. He’d said that out loud?
Chapter Eight
“You are gathered here for your second elimination challenge. The winner of the e-book publisher challenge, Felicity, will be able manipulate this challenge. Whoever loses this challenge will be closing their manuscript and going home. One of you will continue on to become the next bestseller, 100,000 dollars richer, with a Bright House publishing contract in hand.”
Felicity only partially listened to Ophelia this time. She was more focused on the table in front of them. It had a row of pencils on it. Whatever they were doing, were they writing by hand? That could take a while. She shoved her hands in her jeans’ pockets, not sure what else to do with them as she waited to hear the assignment and figure out how she could manipulate it.
Ophelia spoke again, standing right in front of Felicity. “We’ve addressed the process of writing a query, choosing a publisher, and today we talk about another major milestone in an author’s life, and a necessary step for being a bestseller. Working with an editor on making your book all it can and should be and then some.”
“Oooh.”
“Oh no,” A man groaned. Victor? She fought the urge to glance around. Something told her he would be a know-it-all during the editing process. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“Felicity,” Ophelia beckoned her forward, toward the table, “you have the power to match an editor with an author. Editors, please come out and introduce yourselves.”
Six people stepped out from behind a screen — three women and three men. They wore a mixture of eclectic attire. Some had chosen a suit and tie combination. One was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Two wore dresses. One was scantily clad. Felicity wrinkled her nose. She’d make sure she wouldn’t assign that one to Victor.
Why not? It may throw him off his game , her evil gremlin whispered. Because I don’t like the idea of him checking out other women! Felicity shook her head just enough that no one would notice and focused on the editors in front of her.
“My name is Steve, and I have twenty years editing experience. I work for a major publisher in New York. I don’t argue or waste time. If you want your manuscript to sell, you just listen to me,” a bald man in a suit said, his voice no-nonsense.
“My name is Lucinda, and I work for an e-book publisher that’s been in the business for five years. My authors do pretty well. I’m familiar with head-hopping, grammar, punctuation, etcetera. I’ll make your book great,” the scantily clad redhead said.
“I’m James. I work for a solid publishing house in California. I’ve been editing for fifteen years. I especially enjoy military and historical,” another suited man stated.
I will not give him to Roy then . Felicity’s gaze traveled to the next editor, a very modestly dressed woman.
“I’m Tabitha. I have seven years with a children’s book publisher.”
Felicity’s eyes widened. Oh, oh, oh. I know who I’ll give her to .
“My name is Brent,” an African-American man spoke up. “I am well-known for fact checking. If you don’t have your facts right, I’ll take you down. If you give me inaccuracy, you don’t deserve to be heard … or read. I’m a stickler for facts.” He smiled, a flash of white against dark.
A woman in a business suit with her hair pulled back into a severe bun, her mouth a firm line on her face, was next. “My name is Ms. Friar. I am the hardest editor you will ever have, that’s if you
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