Book Talk

An introduction

Chapter 1.

Renalt, after traveling for a fortnight, was ready to be home. His queen awaited him, and after having been separated for too long...BEE BEEP BEEP...

Shit. I glanced over at my clock. It was five in the morning already, which meant I enjoyed another sleepless night trying to finish my current work in progress. There were only a handful of chapters left to the monstrosity I was working on, a lovely endearment because I had lost a good third of it when I moved apartments four months ago and ended up spending any spare time I had building those lost chapters back. I blamed the moving company and cried for days over the loss. Of all the things to go missing, my writing was the last thing I'd expected.

I stretched out my sore limbs, which were numb from being in the same position for hours. As I waited for the sensations to return with the bite of pins and needles, I tugged on the work shirt I'd placed on my nightstand before I'd gone to bed. Once feeling returned, I hobbled to the bathroom

Perhaps I could give Renalt  a heroic return...no, the war was already won, and they celebrated at the end...

I had too many thoughts running through my head as I swiped on mascara to my bloodshot eyes, and smeared lip gloss to my heavily chapped lips. Water would have to wait. I would make myself a coffee when I got to work to survive the madness of the morning shift.

It wasn't a mad dash this morning, but I was sluggish from the lack of sleep, and I struggled on the drive to work. The silent atmosphere of the parking lot was reassuring when I arrived. The mornings I opened the shop myself were the better days. I opened the shop and was grateful to find a clean store, clean counters, and clean equipment. Our new afternoon crew was great. I had a little over an hour to set everything up before we opened. I turned on the ovens, made sure the cash register was full, and the batteries in our scanner were charged.

The espresso machine was all cleaned and ready to use. There was enough milk to start the shift in our small refrigerator, and all of the tea containers were stuffed to the brim. The sweeteners did need a refill, alongside lids and stirrers. 30 minutes until open, the tinkle of the bell brought me from my thoughts.

"Eliza, we've got corporate coming in today, so Regina called me in to help you out," it was Jenna. She was perhaps the closest thing I had to a friend. We didn't do anything outside of work, but we did message each other.

"Oh! Okay, I have everything ready and was just fiddling around until opening time," Jenna gave me a knowing smile.

"You're always on point, I'm surprised you haven't asked to become a manager,"

"I could never, I barely have enough energy to do my own thing at home when I leave here as a regular employee," I replied, tucking away my phone where I was writing notes on my book to add in at a later date. I didn't add that as a published writer, I didn't have the extra time to take care of any issues that may arise and need managerial expertise. Not to mention, I couldn't deal with conflict.

"What do you do at home?" Jenna said with a small laugh. I began making a coffee with our dark roast, and some heavy cream.

"I read, exercise on the occasion, and watch my television shows," I told her. It was true. When I wasn't writing my next book, I was happily engrossed in someone else's work of art. And I would go for walks in my spare time. Any spare time I had today would be spent sleeping, though. I was already so tired.

"Oh! That reminds me. I wanted to tell you about this new author I found. Her book was in this small shop Abe and I visited last week. And I was absolutely hooked. I did some digging because I wanted to read more of her works, and she's a new and upcoming author, so there wasn't much on her. She goes by the name Z. Amber. It's obviously a fake name. Have you heard of her?" I had to take a steady breath. She was talking about my work, my first book. The unpleasantness of the acknowledgment caught me off guard, but I had to suck it up. My publisher had known my writing would become a hit. Otherwise, she wouldn't have agreed to take my work.