Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
“I have no idea. Ego, probably? Doesn’t want people to know he’s the mind behind all the insanely hot shit that goes on in those books? Maybe he’s worried that if people know he writes hot-as-fuck erotica, he’ll never get to write his sci-fi whatever? I have no idea. That’s the point.”
“Then what is the point?” (Which, I have to admit, I feel I’m maybe missing.)
“That there may be a more insidious reason.”
“Insidious?”
“Is that not the right word? Like… sneaky. Or deceptive or devious or something.”
“Then that’s the right word. Those are almost literally all the dictionary synonyms.”
“Then yeah. Insidious.”
“Insidious how?”
“Raylen Star. Remember when she told you to be careful of liars? Well, she repeated the warning to me in the elevator.”
“K. And…?”
She just looks at me, raising an eyebrow. And, suddenly, my mind starts racing and I start gnawing at my nails harder and harder. Because it now somehow clicks. I get what she’s implying.
And I immediately go on the defensive.
“So he writes some books under a nom de plume. So what? Lots of people do that. Have done that. Hell, I do that.”
“Yeah, but this is way, way more ornate than that. Cord, think about it…” She sighs, tries another tactic to get me to listen, I suppose. “Your last boyfriend. Penis.”
“Peter.”
“Same thing. The one who stole the earrings your Yaya gave you. You remember him?”
“Yeah, Brit, obviously I remember him. I would like not to, but thank you for reminding me.”
“That was just a pair of earrings. This could be way worse.” There’s a moment where neither of us says anything and we just let the thick air settle around us. Then Britney continues. “I know that Leslie is a special kind of bitch, but… what if she isn’t wrong about her whole plagiarism thing? What if, in fact, Steve is SS? And what if, in fact, Steve plagiarized her? Think about it, Cord. You’ve read the Master Choke stuff. It’s hot. Like, really fucking hot.” (She seems to lose herself for a second, remembering how hot those books actually are. Then she re-gathers.) “I kinda doubt a guy, especially one who seems kind of just as… nice and bro-y as Steve, could come up with that shit on his own. So, think about it—”
“That is the fourth time you’ve told me to ‘think about it.’”
“So then think about it! He steals Raylen or Leslie or whoever’s stuff, then it hits. Really hits. If people find out some bro-dude is writing this stuff, they’ll surely be more suspicious, so he gets his sister to masquerade as SS and no one’s the wiser.” Britney’s eyes go wide. “Oh, shit! Maybe he’s set her up as the fall girl! If they get busted, she goes down! He’s using everybody!”
Britney grabs a blueberry muffin and mauls the top off with her teeth.
I feel like I have woken up inside a cuckoo clock.
And then I feel my face flush. Yes, she’s amped. Yes, she’s talking crazy. Yes, she’s probably still drunk from the night before.
But she’s also my dearest friend. My friend who tells me the truth when nobody else will. My friend who truly, genuinely always seems to have my best interests at heart.
And this Steve Smith is just a cute, tall guy with a big cock who I happened to let choke me a little last night.
And now, I start to spiral. Internally. Just as the muffin Britney’s eating seems to be chilling her out.
“Ugh. I really needed to eat. Sheesh. Okay, know what? I think I’m starting to sober up and, now that I am, I hear how crazy it all sounds. Just… last night when you left with him? And after he pushed up on you so hard yesterday morning and you gave him your book and… I dunno. Again, I was drunk and maybe I went off the rails a little. I just… I love you and I got weirdly protective and worried and this is a big day for you and… I’m sorry. Let’s go and get you ready to go sign some books, okay?”
She’s smiling now, but it’s strained. And, unfortunately, there’s no way she can put the water back in the faucet because…
He wrote Master Choke? And last night he… and we…
Raylen Star says he plagiarized her work.
He went out of his way to ask for my manuscript.
He used it to get my Skinny Laminx off.
And yesterday, he said…
“Woman, it inspired me to—”
“Steve?”
“Hmm?”
“You were saying? Inspired you to…”
“It inspired me to tell my sister to rewrite the ending of Slay Me Wild.”
Oh, God.
Like, every time one of them would find out my parents used to be big TV writers, they’d see it as some kind of an angle.
I can’t stop the thoughts from careening into my head, and now I can feel myself turning into some kind of unhinged conspiracy theorist.