Chapter One

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Jemma Shaw's world had turned upside down. Looking at the sales chart of their latest release felt like staring down a death sentence.

Shaw Books had just barely broken even on their latest projects. The tiny bit of profit they had made wasn't enough to put even a dent into their debts. On top of all that their only steady author had jumped ship for Park International. The largest publishing group in the country.

All if this was why Jemma was up at three in the morning with her stomach tied in knots. The last few hours leading up to sunrise she spent stumbling through blog posts on marketing and articles on promotion techniques before her head finally fell with a dull thud on the pile of papers on her desk.

. . .

"Hello?" Jemma's voice was thick with sleep as she answered the phone.

"Were you just not planning on showing up today?" Her father's Secretary sounded very annoyed that she had had to call again.
Jemma blinked her blurry eyes to get a better look at the clock. It was five till noon.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea it was this late!"

"Please quit trying to turn me into your personal alarm clock." She sounded exasperated.

"It won't happen again Miss Belle." Jemma didn't know if Miss Belle caught that sentence, she had hung up by the time Jemma finished it.

It was all the late nights of worry that had made her look so irresponsible lately.

Jemma gathered together the papers on her desk that were (mostly) drool free and stuffed them into her satchel.

On her way out the door she grabbed her keys from the hook and tried to think of an excuse good enough to tell the office without letting on how stressed she was.

Shaw Books hadn't always been like this. Four years ago it was a respectable little publishing house that had an exceptional reputation for a business of its size. They had been lucky enough to receive recognition thanks to their best known writer Mallory Woodhouse. She was a force to be reckoned with when it came to novels. Picking her up had been their biggest break.

Then the investigation started.

Mallory Woodhouse was an exceptional author. Each book was unique and well plotted, always different from one another. The first plagiarism claim came as a blow to the entire company. The second drove home the fact that Mallory Woodhouse had been profiting off of other people's talents. The third was the final nail in the coffin.

Shaw Books went from celebrated as a small business hero, to vilified for having given such an obvious scam artist such a grand stage. With the lawsuit settlements and the reports in the media they were receiving fewer manuscript submissions than ever, even with their incredibly lax guidelines and requirements.

For the last four years Shaw Books had been fighting tooth and nail just to keep its office rent paid and it's workers employed.

Jemma pushed through the double doors of the entrance and walked up to the third floor. It was a very modest space they had rented in the building, with a very industrial feel. Even though it eas November the warmth from the California sunlight outside kept it bright ans confortable.

"Jemma where have you been? You were supposed to have a meeting with the interior design team two hours ago!" Katie (Jemma's assistant) said urgently.
"I will have to reschedule them. Tell them to make up three prototypes and email them to me. I'll see what needs changing then." The book interior design team was Jemma's least favorite to work with. Mainly because it was headed by cocky Max Motif who always went out of his way to disagree with her.

Once she was settled at her desk Katie brought in the few manuscript submissions that they had received.

"Your father said I was supposed to send you to his office as soon as you got in. I forgot to mention it earlier." Katie smiled cheerfully. No matter how tense the office was she was always full of sunshine.

"Thank you, Katie." Jemma was really fond of Katie. She was the only one younger than Jemma in the company. Katie was a 19 year old intern, still in college. Jemma was a 25 year old Vice President to her family's company.

Jemma rose from her desk and headed to the only actual office they had. Her father didn't look up as she entered. His brow was furrowed with worry; his eyes were roving the sales chart Jemma had taken home with her last night. She wanted to offer a word of comfort. The tension in his shoulders was visible. His company was crumbling; and she felt powerless to do anything about it.

"Jemma," he finally looked up. "How long have you been standing there?"

"I just came in." She smiled gently and sat in the chair across from his. The desk in between them was heavy laden with all of their problems.

"Good..." He hesitated. "I wanted to see you because I have some important news. I wanted to discuss it with you first." His red rimmed eyes told her the news was anything but good.

"What is it?"

"Six months from now we will be closing the doors of Shaw Books."

The words gripped Jemma like a vice. "What are you talking about?"

"Two months from now I'll be making the announcement public. We just can't afford to do this anymore, Jem. I hoped and prayed that things would change, but we are drowning. If I can get our emoloyees and our writers onto another ship then I plan to spend the next six months doing so."

Jemma took a few short breaths. It was dizzying. Yesterday she was ready to fight, now there was nothing to fight for. "If you get them off to other companies than what are we supposed to do?"

"We'll move back home. We won't be able to afford city life. The two of us will head back to the countryside and find whatever work we can. I've already been looking to see what was available."

"We can't just give up like this. If we just get one more prominent author, if we get a real Mallory Woodhouse-" Her father slammed his fist on the table.

"There is no real Mallory Woodhouse for us! Are we supposed to edit, design, promote, and release the perfect novel in less than six months?"

"At least we would be fighting! If we push hard enough we can keep the doors open and keep ourselves from going back there." Jemma's voice cracked with desperation.

"You're just like your fanciful mother. Can't you see the fight is already over?"

"Don't compare me to her." Jemma stood cooly from her seat. "You are right about something though, I don't see the fight as over. I'm not going to just watch this company die."

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Nov 28, 2016 ⏰

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