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Back The Messy Lives of Book People Save as PDF
Chapters (48)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. About the Author
  4. Dedication
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. THE BOOK AHEAD BLOG
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. HOW I WRITE
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. THE CONSTELLATION AFTER-PARTY
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. BESTSELLER ESSIE STARLING HAS DIED
  44. 36
  45. 37
  46. Acknowledgments
  47. Questions for Discussion
  48. Booklist

Liv pulled the covers over her head and her eyelashes brushed against the cotton. She plumped up her pillow and tossed and turned for a while, trying to summon up a Georgia Rory story to imagine herself in. She was the custodian of Essie’s last ever book, and the satisfaction of millions of readers sat firmly on her shoulders. The responsibility made her feel like she was lying in an open grave with soil being shoveled on top of her.

Tugging Essie’s scarf out of her hair and scrunching it in her fist, Liv only managed to drift off to sleep when she breathed in the scent of Fracas.

7

THE PLASTIC SLIDE

Liv eyes pinged wide open when she woke midmorning. She was supposed to be back at work for Platinum today and hated leaving her teammates in the lurch by not turning up. Her head throbbed when she called Hannah Cardinal and arranged to work extra time on a different day instead. Scrubbing herself in the shower did little to alleviate her hangover.

She was glad Jake had already left for work, so she wouldn’t have to face more of his questions. Her brain felt swollen and her tongue was as dry as sandpaper. But the manuscript and her monumental task to complete it were crystal clear in her head. Matilda was the longest serving of Essie’s assistants, having lasted seven months on the job. She might know if any missing chapters existed. If Liv had to keep up the pretense Essie was still alive, the PA could tell her more about the author’s day-to-day life. She might know something about Anthony, too.

Matilda could be as difficult as Essie, so Liv texted apprehensively to ask if they could meet to discuss Essie’s work.

Why would I want to help Medusa? Matilda fired back. What did she ever do for me?

It’s for me, not her, Liv replied. Please. I really need this.

Matilda’s response took a while to arrive. Okay. Meet me at Alchemy at 2 today.

Alchemy was a huge white block on an industrial estate on the outskirts of the city, where lots of creative businesses had their headquarters. Liv grabbed the dog-eared manuscript from Essie’s apartment on the way and carried it in a tote bag. It was so heavy the bag straps cut into her shoulder, leaving a red weal.

Her mouth fell open when she stepped inside the Alchemy foyer. The floor was covered with emerald green fake grass, and there was a small crazy golf pitch, a large sand pit and a turquoise plastic slide curved down from the mezzanine to the ground floor. The place looked more like a youth center for overprivileged kids.