“You used my real laugh in your book,” she says, calm and ice-cold. “Page 117. ‘A laugh like wind chimes in a storm.’ I haven’t laughed since you left.”
Julian Hart hasn’t published a word in a decade. His agent drops him. His publisher offers one lifeline: a mass-market romance novel under a pseudonym. “Write what you know, Julian. Love.” shahd fylm Erotica Moonlight 2008 mtrjm may syma 1
He steps inside. A bell chimes. Nora looks up. The laugh dies. “You used my real laugh in your book,”