Read Topped for Free Online

daunting. I’ve started using it to give teasers about my latest books, and I’ve seen some really good results. I think the YouTube thing is just a hassle and a half, but Periscope is a great way to connect.”
    I perk up at the idea of something that isn’t a hassle.
    “We can do everything through our phones?” Evelyn asks, looking over Vanessa’s shoulders. “No fancy cameras or anything needed?”
    “Nope! It’s all here. Twitter runs it, so the integration is pretty seamless. Live streaming is becoming hugely popular, so it’s the perfect time to jump in. All you do is set up an account and boom, live streaming.”
    “Perfect!” I am already digging through the App Store for Periscope. “We are going to interview some hot cover models. I can attach it to my Twitter account?”
    “Certainly can.”
    “Oh my god, this is my favorite.” Evelyn smiles at me and I smile back, and suddenly things don’t seem as scary. “I have my Twitter account linked to my Facebook author page, so I can get that out fast and easy. Let’s just hashtag everything #RoseHeartModels,” she says, and I can practically see my name in lights already. So! Brilliant!
    “This just made my day. Evelyn. Vanessa. You win.” I hug them both, but a little halfheartedly because I am running low on the form of Vitamin C that is specifically found in fermented grapes. One cannot properly celebrate unless one has a glass of fruit salad before her.
    “Are you going to Entwined’s party tonight?” Vanessa asks as we file out of the last classroom of the day. “They’re having a big to-do in Ballroom C!”
    “I saw.” I would die to get picked up by Entwined. They’re one of my top five publishers. But I’m also exhausted and in dire need of said red. How am I expected to dazzle a publisher when I’m practically a zombie myself? “Piiiiiinoooooottttttt” is not what they want to hear when they ask for a pitch.
    “I absolutely plan to, but I think I’m going to hit the hotel bar for a bit and soak up everything I learned today first. If I don’t process some of it, my head may actually explode. Want to join me for a drink?”
    “I’m going to try to get into the party early to start glad-handing some editors.” It’s sweet of her to pretend she hasn’t made the right connections to get picked up by a publisher. She’s phenomenal . And so is the money she pulls in. No one can afford her is why she hasn’t gotten picked up. I’d hate her if I didn’t love her so much. Just a shame that the super-dark thriller boning isn’t my game, I’d love to write with her. “I’ll see you there?”
    “Yerp!” As if I’d totally pass over an opportunity to talk to Entwined. But first, The Quiet. The Liquid Courage.
    “I’m going to go to my room, actually.” Evelyn looks apologetic. “My editor is meeting me later, and I am dying for a nap.”
    “Nap away! I’ll see you girls later!”
    We part ways and I make a dash for wine. A wine dash. A Wash? No. A Wish. The bar is pretty empty. Everyone must still be milling around the conference center. Works for me, because I get prime seating at the bar with the sexy bartender and an endless supply of mid-level cabernet. I love cabernet. I love anything red and grapey that my ticket to the conference gives me a discount on, let’s be honest.
    I take a long sip and sigh happily. Then again for good measure. A good sigh expresses it all. Writers’ conference, wine, hot bartender. And my makeup still looks flawless, so he’s been giving me a wink or two while organizing glasses. Jane’s gonna get a bonus. Bailey’s in that coffee tomorrow, girl!
    This is what living the dream looks and feels like. Or the glamorous part of it, at least.
    The inner-monologue-tape-loop runs through its usual cycle in my brain again. ‘I sell enough to live on, but I’m not a household name.’ A glass of wine and a tired body (read: sore feet that shouldn’t have worn heels) in, I can admit that