Stranger Danger (Lucy McGuffin, Psychic Amateur Detective 4)

He flushes. “I must sound like a schoolboy. It’s just I’m very excited. Mr. Quicksilver read my novel, and he’s going to edit it.”

I struggle to keep my expression neutral. “Oh, he is, is he?”

“He told me I had a lot of talent. And with some hard work I could become a published author.”

“With a New York publisher?”

“Mr. Quicksilver is opening his own company. He’s going to publish a select group of talented writers and help them get their big break. Not that I would call myself talented, but since … ”

“Mr. Quicksilver has?” I prompt.

He nods enthusiastically. “He’s going to publish my book,” he says proudly.

“Congratulations,” I manage to choke out.

I think I have a pretty good idea where this is going, but I’m going to have to dig deeper to make certain. I just hope my acting skills are good enough to pull this off. I wet my lips and try to act nervous. “Hoyt, do you know if Mr. Quicksilver is looking for any more authors? For this publishing program of his?”

“Why? Do you know anyone who might be interested?”

“Actually… I do a little writing myself. Nothing up to Mr. Quicksilver’s standards, or yours, I’m sure, but I’ve written a few romances.”

He smiles indulgently. “I’d love to read one sometime.”

The bigger the lie or the deception, the stronger my physical reaction. If I keep talking to this guy, I’m going to need a neck brace.

“So how much does he pay? For a novel?”

“You mean, as an advance?” He chuckles. “Oh no, Lucy, that’s not how it’s done. You see, publishing a novel is quite expensive. There’s the copy editing, the formatting, the cover artist, and that’s just the beginning. There’s also a lot of promotion needed. Mr. Quicksilver is doing the developmental edits himself. He can’t be expected to do that and pay for the rest of the expenses.”

“So … you paid him?”

“No need to look so worried, my dear. I’ve seen the charts. I should make my money back and double it within the first week alone. You could do the same yourself. If Mr. Quicksilver liked your work.”

Something tells me that “Mr. Quicksilver” will most undoubtedly like my work. Or anyone else’s, if they cough up the dough for this con of his.

I’ve never understood the expression seeing red before, but right now I’m seeing purple and every other color under the rainbow. He’s running a publishing scam! And this guy is his accomplice. How many poor, unsuspecting saps have they taken in already?

“So, Hoyt, what do I have to do to get started? And is it very expensive?”

“He has a very easy payment plan. You could put down as little as five thousand dollars. You own your own business, so that shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

“Five thousand?” I make a face. “I don’t know—”

“Three thousand then. Don’t waste this opportunity, Lucy. J.W. Quicksilver is going to personally edit and promote your novel. I can’t think of money better spent.”

“Let me think about it,” I say.

“Don’t think too long. There’s just a few coveted spots left.” He hands me a card with his number. “If you know any other aspiring authors who would be interested in the program and they sign up, Mr. Quicksilver might be able to waive your fee.”

“Sounds like a great scheme.”

“Doesn’t it?” Hoyt says, not picking up on my sarcasm.

We get to the front of the line. Hoyt steps to the side and makes a flourishing motion with his arm, waving me on. “Ladies first.”

“Thanks, don’t mind if I do.” I walk over to the table where Mr. Fakey Pants sits, surrounded by a stack of books that he didn’t write but is taking credit for. He thinks he’s King of the World. I’d love nothing more than to pick up one of those hardcover books and smash it over his head. I should probably mention this violent streak of mine during my next confession.

“Hello, my dear.” The fake J.W. smiles up at me. “Can I sign a book for you?”