Plotting to Win by Tara Chevrestt Page B

only three hours.
    After a few minutes ticked by, it came to her. She thought of the last e-book she’d read and quickly typed the title in the Amazon search engine. It had been her kind of romance, a solid story, and she’d found no errors while reading it, meaning they had good, trained editors. Today’s reader demanded perfect books, and shoddy editing could put them off fast, not to mention a publisher that just threw as many as books as possible out there with no thought to quality wouldn’t last very long.
    Felicity knew this from all the snarky Amazon reviews. One little typo, and folks demanded a refund, it seemed.
    There it was. A few clicks of the keyboard and the Amazon book page appeared in front of her. She scrolled down to book details. Ah, ha!
    She had her starting point.
    And when this challenge was over, she’d take care of Plan B.
    The black curtain whooshed open.
    “Time’s up. Please print your email submission, being sure the publisher name is clearly in the send to box, then fingers off the keyboards. Convene in front of the desk in twenty minutes.”
    “Whew.” Victor met her outside their caves. “I hope I chose a good one.”
    “I had too many to choose from.” Felicity shook her head. “I take it yours was narrowed down some. How many e-book publishers take crime fiction?”
    “Well, what I write could also fall under mystery. I guess you could say I stand on the line between the two.”
    “I understand that.”
    The two held gazes until the air between them seemed to crackle. Felicity looked away, uncomfortably warm. She tried to bring dirty-playing Felicity back to the front, but though still angry, she couldn’t aim it his way.
    He shifted, leaning against the dividing wall. “Thanks for the tip earlier. I found it online. It prevented me from making a major mistake.”
    “Well, you did help me on the head-hop thing. If we get another writing challenge, I know to watch for that.”
    He was watching everyone around them, so she was able to allow her gaze to travel the full length of him, all six-foot-something of leanness. Today, he wore a white tank top and low-cut jeans, not attire that usually got her heart racing, but on him it worked. She thought she even saw a tattoo on his right shoulder blade. She reached a hand out to move the strap and her breath caught in her throat. His skin, just inches under her hand, beckoned her.
    “Are you ready to be judged?”
    Felicity dropped her hand to her side and listened to the chorus of groans and sighs. Bring it , she wanted to scream, but outwardly, she remained calm.
    But they were all here to be judged and critiqued.
    “Let’s go.” If Victor had noticed her about to touch him, he wasn’t making an issue of it, for which Felicity was grateful.
    She followed him to the back and awaited her fate. Footfalls sounded as everyone else positioned themselves. Hands were shoved in pockets and arms were crossed. Deep breaths were taken in a false effort at calm. Felicity caught Tiffani’s eye and gave her a sweet smile. The other woman’s eyes widened and she quickly looked away.
    Uhm hmmm. You just wait .
    “Mr. Peters has gone over the publishers you have selected to submit your work to. Here is what he has to say.” Ophelia sat straight behind the long desk and waited a beat. “Victor.”
    He merely nodded.
    Anthony Peters looked down at them from the desk. “Good query. I guess you all learned that already.”
    Another nod, and a smile this time. Even his half smiles were hot. Felicity fought the urge to roll her eyes at herself. That little girl’s room was rubbing off on her. At least he was distracting her from her anger though.
    Mr. Peters continued, “You chose a decent publisher for your genre: mystery, crime fiction. They have no bad reports. They pay on time, have good editing, but their sales leave much to be desired. Did you think to look that up?”
    A crease formed on Victor’s brow. “Short of emailing every