Jordan:That stuff will kill you
Iris:Wait, Jordan... are YOU actually a spin instructor named Zach?
Astrid:I sure as hell hope not
Jordan:I have a confession...
Iris smiled, then started tapping out her next pithy reply when an email notification from Fiona popped onto her screen.
“Shit,” Iris said, wincing as she tapped on her email app. She shouldn’t even read it. While her agent worked at all hours of the day, Iris knew it was perfectly acceptable for her to delay her own work until the morning, but she was a glutton for punishment.
Hey Iris,Fiona’s email started,I wanted to check in and see how the novel was coming along. Are we still working through the ornithologist on a Caribbean island idea?
Oh, Jesus, no, they were most definitely not still working through that idea. While a hot bisexual scientist who studied birds was appealing, Iris knew zilch about poultry and, honestly, didn’t give a shit about the mating habits of parrots.
I’m here for brainstorming if you need it, but a gentle reminder thatgetting this book in on time will be the best bet for building your brand. We want book two to release no later than a year after your debut.
Iris stared at the screen. She’d heard all of this before. The romance world moved fast, the fans hungry for more and more, and while Fiona had assured her that they could ask her editor, Elizabeth, for an extension, it really behooved Iris’s career to keep things moving.
Simon—Jordan’s twin brother and a literary fiction writer—had been absolutely appalled at the timeline. His lot took years to pump out a single two-hundred-page novel that then won them Booker prizes and spots on the National Book Award longlist.
If you’re struggling,Fiona’s email went on,I’ll tell you what I tell all my clients dealing with a block—take a break. Do something creative that has nothing to do with writing. Take a pottery class or learn how to make sushi. Anything that’s low stakes and gives your brain the space to come up with something brilliant!
Iris glared at that hopeful exclamation point, but Fiona’s idea wasn’t all that bad. She could think of a few low-stakes creative activities she’d like to engage in right now, though none of them involved a class. After the dating ambush tonight, followed by the shaming of Iris’s way of life that seemed to be a new family tradition, Iris would welcome a distraction.
A human-shaped, no-strings-attached distraction.
Iris:Anyone up for an impromptu night out?
Astrid:It’s ten-thirty
Iris:So that’s a no for Astrid
Jordan:I go where my woman goes
Iris:Thrilling life you two lead
Claire:I’ve got to open the store in the morning—my manager’s on vacation
Iris:I assume that means you’re also out, D?
Delilah:Look, I’m VERY comfortable with my current situation, as Claire is... never mind
Claire:BABE
Delilah:
Iris:No, please, keep going. Fodder for my dead-on-arrival novel
Delilah:I swear to god, if my admittedly mind-blowing love story ends up in one of your books, Iris, I will connect all of your freckles with a Sharpie while you’re sleeping. I have a key to your place, I’m not afraid to use it
Iris:“Delilah Green didn’t care about anyone and consistently forgot the names of the women she slept with. Until she met Claire Sutherland.” I like it. Catchy
Astrid:Laugh out loud!
Delilah:Astrid, use a damn emoji, and Iris, I’m buying a fresh pack of markers
Claire:Babe, she would never
