Hannah's Hero - Ruby Dixon Page 0,13

but I nod. She doesn’t quite understand.

My agent lifts her glass of champagne and clinks it to mine. “You’re going to be a star, Hannah Beckett. At this time next year, everyone in the world is going to know your name.”

I take a sip of the champagne, but it just sits funny in my stomach. I’m too excited by what she’s saying. “You really think so?”

“Honey, all the stars have lined up. There is maybe one big book a year that gets a push like this, and it’s yours. Next Tuesday, when your hardcover drops, you’re going to be on the front table of every bookstore in the country. There are posters of your cover in Germany, and in the subway in London. And I hear some really, really big names are interested in the movie adaptation. The director hasn’t said who yet, but he said they’re very close to signing an Oscar winner.”

It’s a dream come true. “All for my book? Really?”

She laughs. “Don’t be so modest. How many debut authors get television spots on morning shows?”

I’m still nervous about that, but I won’t have to think about it until Tuesday morning, the same day my book drops. My agent Kimmie says that everything’s designed to get my cover on everyone’s mind, right down to the shockingly lurid red cover with the block print emblazoned across the front. “What can I do until then?”

“Relax, get a facial to tighten those pores,” Kimmie says, gesturing at my nose. Then, she puts down her glass and reaches into her oversized purse. “And sign this early copy for me, so I can put it on my brag shelf.”

I take the pen from her, and the book, and lovingly gaze down at my name. It’s embossed in shiny silver—HANNAH BECKETT. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

All my wildest dreams are coming true. After two years of struggling to put the right words on paper, my book, In Search of a Hero, is finally going to meet the world. Biting my lip as if that’ll hold back the pride bursting through me, I try to flip the book open.

My fingers fumble against the dust jacket, and then I drop the pen.

Kimmie frowns at me.

“I’ll get that,” I say, reaching under the table to pick the pen up again. I retrieve it, then try to open the book once more, but I keep flipping to the wrong part of the book. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to find the right page, the title page, the one that I’m supposed to sign. Frustrated, I keep turning pages, but as I do, I realize they’re all blank…

I wake up with a gasp, staring up at the ceiling of the cave.

I’m covered in sweat. My khui hums, but I ignore it. I’m still rattled by what I just dreamed. Even though it was a dream, I can still feel the pen in my hand, still feel the embossed lettering of the dust jacket as my fingers move over the book.

My book. The one I’m never going to see on the shelves, because I was stolen by aliens two days before my massive international launch and book tour were supposed to begin.

A sob chokes in my throat.

It’s selfish to cry over what’s lost, but I really, really did lose everything. I thought I was going to be rich and famous, to live my dream of being an author. To see my book made into a movie. Now all that’s going to happen and I just won’t be around to see it. I stuff the corner of my fur blanket into my mouth, biting down on it to hold back my sobs. It’s so unfair.

Across the room, Callie rolls over restlessly, and I can hear her khui humming. Someone else groans. “We’re trying to sleep, Hannah,” Penny murmurs. “Take it outside.”

“Sorry,” I choke out. I wake up crying a lot, and while people were sympathetic at first, haven’t we all shed tears over what we’ve lost? Except the others are trying to move on and I’m still stuck in the past. In my mind, I’m still seeing that book with my name on the cover. I’m still drinking champagne with my agent.

I’m still waiting for a bright, amazing future that will never come.

I choke back another sob and stagger out of the room, wrapping furs around me to keep out the cold. It’s awful tonight, my breath puffing even in the sleeping cave, where all