Gemotions

The party was in full swing, the music loud, the champagne flowing. David clutched a glass, making small talk with a group of literary agents. He knew that the news of the plagiarized author had made him look like a prophet, the author of the very works that were stolen!

He felt a light buzz in his head, a delightful sense of power. He’d always felt like he was on the cusp of something great, and now, it was clear that he had the material, not the author. The way that he'd thought about them as an obstacle, was a complete misread. It was all a little bittersweet, but he would not let them win.

The crowd around him shifted, and one of the agents turned to him, a knowing look in her eyes. "So, David," she said, her voice a low hum. "Tell me about your latest manuscript…"