A Rogue No More - Lana Williams Page 0,4
ending had given her fits. Even now, she bit her lip, wondering if she’d handled it properly. “I worried that might have been a step too far.”
Mr. Raybourne leaned forward, his green eyes alight with excitement that set her heart racing for an entirely different reason. “It was perfect. Have you considered writing another book?”
“If I had, would Artemis Press be interested in publishing it?”
“We’d be honored.”
Delight filled her, but she tried to hold back her eagerness. This was a negotiation after all. “I was hoping for an update on the sales of the first book. The number of copies printed was less than I’d hoped.”
“We should discuss a second printing based on strong sales. I believe they’d increase if word were to spread of a new three-decker to be released soon.”
She curled her toes in her half-boots at the excitement that swept over her even as she tried to mask it. She’d dreamed of this moment for a long while, ever since Caroline, her older sister, had suggested she write one of her stories to sell to the broadsheet. The extra money had been welcomed by their family at the time, and Annabelle had been thrilled to contribute in a meaningful way. But even more, the step had given Annabelle hope that she could become a truly successful author whose books would be read by thousands. The idea was equal parts thrilling and terrifying.
Though Caroline insisted she was well on her way to accomplishing that, Annabelle knew one wrong move could change all that. If the next story she wrote wasn’t as good as the previous one, or she offended someone with her writing, or if her identity was discovered—any of those factors could crush her dreams.
She didn’t want merely one book. She hoped for half a dozen. The idea made her positively giddy.
But the notion of trusting her fragile dream with the man on the other side of the desk was troubling on every possible level.
“May I inquire as to your experience in publishing?”
He straightened in his chair, the light in his eyes dimming. “No more or less than my father’s. He enjoyed reading a variety of books and took it upon himself to assist in seeing some of them to publication.”
“With the hope of profit?” In her mind, profit meant success. Perhaps because her family had been so desperate for funds the past few years.
Caroline’s marriage to the Earl of Aberland the previous year had eased that desperation considerably. In fact, her mother had suggested Annabelle stop writing, much to Annabelle’s dismay. Lady Gold didn’t understand the fire that burned within her daughter to write the stories that came to her.
Annabelle had yet to understand it either. She only knew that if she didn’t write down the scenes playing out in her mind, they wouldn’t leave her in peace but continued to rattle about in her head. The feeling that overcame her when she managed to write a perfect passage was like nothing else—pure joy.
Give that up? Never. It was her salvation.
She wished her mother had something similar to give her enjoyment. Annabelle’s father, Sir Reginald, had been in poor health for some time, though it had more to do with his mind than anything else, not that anyone beyond the family knew the truth.
His occasional memory lapses had grown worse over the past three years until they didn’t dare allow him to run the shipping business he’d started, nor could they allow visitors to call. No one could guess what he might say or what bad decision he might make. Heaven forbid if he let it slip that Annabelle was A. Golden. Then again, Annabelle wasn’t certain he actually knew.
“Profit is definitely a consideration,” Mr. Raybourne said, bringing Annabelle’s thoughts back to the conversation. “Would you prefer to sell the copyright to us for this story?”
“Certainly not.” Outrage spilled over at the very idea. Receiving a small fee for the story but nothing beyond that was unacceptable. She’d thoroughly researched the four main methods of publication prior to this meeting. Whether Mr. Raybourne was familiar with them all would help her decide if he was qualified to publish her next book. “I should’ve known you’d suggest something of the sort. The previous contract was a profit-sharing arrangement.”
“I’m well aware.”
“I propose this one be published on commission.” This venture placed much of the risk on her own shoulders, but with great risk came great reward. Should the book be profitable, she stood to benefit significantly. She had