Page 8 of Plot Twist

Can’t stand all that up-your-own-arse shit. We’re all trying our best. These groups are meant to be supportive. Thought I’d get a barrage of abuse in response but luckily everyone seemed to get on the same page pretty quickly.

That’s when I knew Riley was a good egg. The kind of person you wanted in your corner. And to my surprise, she was now in my corner.

Riley had an actual publishing deal for two books. The first one had been a piece of cake, she said. When I read it to give her feedback just before her final edits, I was captivated. The words were beautiful, her characters so believable and the steamy scenes left me more than a little flustered. Before I knew it, I was turning the pages of her manuscript in my hands at three o’clock in the morning.

She was also my biggest cheerleader. Riley said the early chapters of my book for children were ‘hilarious’. I’d danced a little bit when she’d said that. Of course, some of the credit had to go to Rae. My story,Queen Bee, was based around two girls who were at drama camp together, battling it out for the lead role. They kept getting annoyed with one another for being so similar. I guess it was a take on what could have happened if Rae and I hadn’t teamed up at the start. I knew my characters, Anna and Rosie, would become firm friends for life by the end.

I wasn’t sure if I could write their happily ever after now.

Riley was also struggling. Her second story wasn’t flowing nearly as well as she’d hoped. I’d read every single word of her latest false start and tried to offer constructive criticism. But the truth was, it just didn’t have the same flow. She had lost her mojo.

Me:Funeral was awful. I cried, finally. Yay. Go me. I have a heart, after all.

Riley:Sorry to hear it. . . Worse than you thought?

Me:Long story but my ex-boyf was at the funeral.

Riley:Whaaat?

Me:Turns out he was The One.

Riley:Eh?

Me:What kind of romance writer are you? Do I need to spell it out?

Riley:Your ex-boyfriend was going out with your best friend?

Me:Yup. Put that in your Mills and Boon and smoke it.

Riley:And you didn’t know?

Me:Nope?But everyone else did, apparently. They were planning to get married. Wtf.

Riley:Ach, shite. That’s really balls, Becca. Bet he was a tool, anyway.

Me:SUCH a tool. You should have seen him, parading around in his Scottish skirt like he owned the bloody funeral.

Riley:Sure they’re all tools, aren’t they? Exes are ex for a reason and all that. Bet he was the biggest tool of them all.

I smiled a little and poured myself a small red wine. Then topped it up because, well, now I had company.

Me:Just wish I could pack up my bags and fly off somewhere fabulous. That’s what they usually do in novels when they need to escape from a shitty ex-boyfriend, isn’t it?

Riley:Me too. I’d go on a yoga retreat. Or writers’ retreat.

Me:More like rehab for me. Although, I have always wanted to go on a writers’ retreat. Just spend the whole day frolicking around with my novel.

Riley:Me too. Writing all day. It’s all rose-tinted glasses at the start of a novel. You can’t get enough of each other, then you spend so much time together that you can’t even look at each other any more.

Me:Oh you’re totally right! I loved my first few chapters but then I hit the middle of the story and I’m just like. . . meh.

Riley:Exactly! The saggy bloody middle. Now I can’t even get the start of mine done.

Me:The saggy bloody middle. . . sounds exactly like my relationship with he-who-shall-not-be-named.

Riley:Your ex is. . . Voldermort?

Me:No. Voldermort would be an upgrade, believe me.