By The Book Ny Times Novels & Stories

"Whatever you want to do, I'll be with you." I originally thought that press conference would be the beginning of my revenge. But I underestimated the media's nose for news and underestimated Ethan's influence. Just the day before the press conference, the front page of *The New York Times* published a deep report that shocked the world—"The Ivy Blooming on the Ruins of a Tycoon's Empire." The writer was a Pulitzer Prize winner. With an extremely sharp pen, he tore open the glamorous robe of the Smith family to reveal the lice crawling underneath.

“What do you mean?” “You’re reading a book,” I scoffed. “What is it about?” She beamed. “Did you think that I never read?” “I’ve never seen you read anything,” I laughed. “Oh please, I do read and guess what? There’s an open book festival of ‘Sincerely, Yours Too’ tomorrow in Manhattan. I was thinking we should go. I’d like to meet the author.” She handed me a pamphlet about the open book festival. I looked at it and just thought that she wrote about things that only women found interesting and it wasn’t going to benefit me to be there. “I will arrange for a driver to take you there, I have a golf session with one of my clients.”

The city disappeared beyond the windows. The rain softened into background noise. Lois recovered first. "You got lost." Walter blinked. "What?" She approached with a smile. "The financial district is four miles that way." A faint crease appeared between his brows. "I'm aware." "Then why is New York's busiest billionaire standing inside a bookstore on a Tuesday afternoon?" Walter looked entirely too calm. "I came for my coat." Lois glanced toward the hook behind the counter. The coat that had been visible from the entrance.

“The conventions I attend are usually so dull compared to all this.” “This is relatively small. You should see the BookExpo America at the Jacob Javits Center in New York City. That one is about three times the size, but for your debut, I believe this event is perfect. You’ll have a better opportunity to talk to people who are interested in your book and not just looking for freebies.”

They were all adjusted alphabetically. He then randomly picked a book. ‘If I had your Face – By Frances Cha’ He read the title. He opened the book. On the first page, there was her name and a date written. The date when she either got the book or started reading it. He flipped through the pages. She had underlined some context. Marked notes somewhere. Scribbled replies to some lines. He laughed to himself. There was this line she had highlighted, “In New York, you can talk to anyone about anything at any time and have a conversation so long you'll fall a little in love with that person, and then never see them again.”

Emma answered the call, still nestled against Jake's side on the couch. "Maya, this better be good, because your timing is" "Em, thank God you answered. Are you sitting down?" Emma felt a chill of premonition. "What's wrong?" "It's not wrong, it's incredible. *The New York Times* just called me. They want to do a feature story on your emotional authenticity breakthrough, and they're considering your manuscript for their fall literary fiction recommendations." Emma stared at Jake, seeing her own shock reflected in his expression.

I spot a burgundy mustang and know that's the one I want to drive I hop in the car and head towards NYU. _______________________________________________________________________________ Hey Guys, I'd really appreciate if you guys could review my book for goodnovel Okay, So I have a friend and she's Writing this Book called The Troubled Alpha Female On webnovel It's an amazing book so far so please go check it out. Love you guys- Dailyy.Alex03

He wasn’t sure what he was going to watch since he didn’t watch TV that often. **** Beverly was at The N.Y. offices catching up on her email. The N.Y. was a two-year-old news website that put out a hard copy magazine every month. Some people called it a gossip rag. Whatever it was The N.Y. was the most popular online site in New York. The N.Y. was popular for not holding punches and printing anything about anybody newsworthy. Beverly had just made full-time employment. The pay was better than being a temp all over the city, but she still had to watch her pennies. New York was not a cheap city to live in.

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The New York Times feature published on a Sunday in November. I read it at the kitchen counter in the Capitol Hill apartment at seven in the morning with Eleanor in the carrier against my chest and Julian beside me with his coffee and the Washington November morning outside the window doing what November mornings did which was arrive cold and clear and entirely without apology for what the year had cost to produce them. The feature ran to four thousand words.