An unwelcome manuscript from an unknown, unpublished author? Sheila scoffed at the notion. She’d been in the publishing game for decades. She knew better.
But she stared at the bound stack of papers on her desk. Compelling characters, sexual tension, an engaging plot. It was the most gripping romance novel she’d ever read. And she’d read them all.
Sheila stared at the aspiring author sitting across from her. Rough hands, silver hair, surprisingly male.
She knew what she wanted – his novel and a night out. So, she did the unthinkable.
“Tonight, I’m buying the rights and the drinks. Sound good?”
The Weekday One Hundred 