Gemotions

The email arrived at precisely 6:00 AM, as if the author, a former colleague named Mark, had been timing his moment. “Just wanted to say, the book’s doing great! You’re getting so much positive press, you lucky dog!” Sarah reread the message.

She let out a frustrated grunt. She threw her phone across the bed, where it landed with a soft thud against the pillows. She sat up, her back stiff. The book painted her as some sort of reclusive genius, which was patently absurd. She was, in reality, a rather anxious accountant.

She scrubbed a hand over her face, feeling the familiar prickle of a headache beginning to form. She was going to need a lot of coffee, a lawyer, and perhaps a very long vacation.