By around ten that night the total of added reviews was over two hundred. Orelia’s star rating had been lowered to 3.30 out of 5. The two-star ranking was so close he could taste success. His eyes felt as though he had minute paper cuts sliced across his corneas. He needed sleep.

When he put his head down, he slipped off to the twilight zone of nothingness within seconds. He slumbered as a man who’d already won his battle.

The next morning, he noticed a few four and five-star reviews populated among his scathing comments, moving the book’s rating up to three-point-seven-five. Several even commented on the low reviews, condemning them as written by trolls and accusing the reviewers of never having read the book.

“Well, you’re right,” William said to the screen. Another habit he’d developed. Talking to inanimate objects. This had better work before he went crazy beyond repair.

Today he’d contract other Fiverr people to write extra reviews. If he set a daily budget and spread them over time, he wouldn’t burn out, or his actions appear suspicious.

So far, he’d spent two hundred and twenty-four dollars on the campaign. He’d limit his budget to five hundred for the week. He got smart and hired one of the Fiverr contractors to book other Fiverr reviewers, which freed him up to work on the next part of his plan.

He needed time to think too. Reviews popping up on Orelia’s book’s page were satisfying, but his efforts hadn’t affected her sales one bit. The Mysterious Heart still ranked in the top fifty books on Amazon, Apple iTunes, Kobo and everywhere else. Her stupid romance would probably appear on the New York Times Best-seller list for the fourth week, no matter what he did.

Didn’t people read reviews anymore?

William had checked Orelia’s website and Facebook page. In fact, he’d stalked her blog these past few weeks. He now spent the morning writing nasty comments on her most recent blog posts (those fake email accounts had come in handy).

In the last half dozen posts she’d made, she’d gone on and on raving about the fantastic sales results of The Mysterious Heart.

Ugh, how many times can you thank readers and express surprise at your success? Of course her book sold well. The publisher clearly invested a bucket-load of money on promotion. It was impossible to miss the subway signs, the posters in bookstores, full page ads in women’s magazines and ads in his Facebook feed. For heaven’s sake, did Facebook think he was a brainless person who read Orelia Mason’s books?

If you weren’t aware a new Orelia Mason book had been recently released, you were living under a rock. He thought he’d even seen her name on the cover of Vanity Fair when he was at the newsstand. Of this he was uncertain because he’d averted his eyes. If that was her on the cover, he couldn’t bear it. He told himself he’d made a mistake and refused to pick up the publication.