Publishers Marketplace did not clarify that this was a romance novel.
No, that much I learned fromKirkus, actually, and it was almost a year later when it happened. My publicist, Adriana, called Evan around Thanksgiving to ask if I was emotionally sound enough to receive some bad news. (This would later become a refrain, not just from Adriana, but from Jax and even Evan himself in the months to come.) Evan decided to field the news for me, so I received the watered-down version of the fact that, apparently, Beckett’s story was entirely similar toHoliday Island, at least based on early intel. It was getting tremendous accolades in the trades, including a starred review fromPublishers Weekly,Booklist, andKirkus. Ev was able to snag an e-copy via NetGalley, and upon reading it, he called me, emotionally sound feelings be damned.
“Mel,” he said. “We need to talk about Beckett Nash.”
I sighed, trying to ignore the churning in my stomach that still happened when I heard his name. “What about him?”
“I read his book.”
“And?”
“It’s too similar to be a coincidence.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, first of all, it’s a romance. Pure and simple. And straight-men-writing-romance is not really a commonplace thing, so it’s getting him a lot of, well… Let’s just say, people are paying attention.”
“Um, okay,” I replied, failing to see the issue.
“There’s more, though,” he said, swallowing. “The sex scenes. They’re exactly the same as yours.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I wish I was. Three scenes in total. The first one takes place in a casino bathroom, the second is at the outdoor spa after closing time, and the third one is in a very fancy bungalow.”
At this, I went quiet.
“You understand what this means, right?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Beckett Nash’s novel comes out on May first. Yours doesn’t come out until the end of July. And if they’re too similar…” His voice trailed off, but my brain began to compute the rest.
“Jesus, Evan,” I seethed.
“I’m going to talk to Jax about changing your release date,” he said.
“Pushing it up or pushing it back?”
“Up, I think. As far as possible. The closer to his release you are, the less likely readers will be to think you stole anything from him.”
“But I have a whole bunch of marketing events booked for July and August. And,sidebar, I didn’t steal a single word of that man’s novel.”
“Obviously,Iknow that. But readers don’t know how the industryworks—how saturated, how few tropes, how stories all start to sound like one another after a while,” he continued. “It’ll be fine. Summer’s a whole season. If we can push you to May, I’ll work with Jax and Adriana to book more events. You can handle a few more in May and June, right?”
“I mean, I don’t love it, since that’s during the school year.”
“We’ll do weekends. Night stuff will only be local. I’ll help you. We’ll make it work.”
I sighed. “Okay,” I agreed. “Whatever you think is best.”
“Thanks, Mel. Now, I have to ask you something.”
“What?”
“It’s a friend question, not an agent question,” he warned.
“Go ahead.”
