Stars Dancing [Dreams-To-Lovers Romance]

"Come in, come in, girls. Wimpy's in the living room waiting for you. I'll grab us some juice and be there in a minute," Paddy called out, ushering us into their home. The air conditioning was a welcome contrast to the morning damp outside.

"I've had a night to think about it, and I'm ready to call George MacIntyre at the Guild and turn everything we have over to him, but I won't do that, Sam, unless you're ready," HC said as Rhoda and I settled on the sofa.

"No objections from me, HC." Who was I to complain about that plan? If HC knew someone who could help us, I was all for it.

"Okay, then if we're all in agreement, I'll call him. You three ladies hang on the couch. I'll be the focus of this video, but if I forget something, Paddy, wave to me, and I'll make an excuse to pause it, okay?"

We all nodded, taking seats on the sofa as HC placed the video call.

"Mr. Maron, I wasn't expecting to hear from you today. How've things been in Miami?" a voice asked through HC's pad.

"Glad you asked, George, glad you asked. I wish I could tell you how delightful and sunny it is, but I'm afraid my life has been overtaken by cloudy skies that you probably don't want to hear about but need to."

"Worrisome. Go on."

"There's this thing writers need to manage in order to produce high quality books and keep the publishing industry flourishing. It's called productivity. And I find my productivity badly damaged as of late. And not because I'm in poor health or lazy or some such, but because of a distressing multi-corporate scheme I've spent days trying to unravel. Are you listening, George?"

"You can see by my face that you have my undivided attention, Mr. Maron."

"Good because this one is going to go down in the history books. You are familiar with Discord?"

"Of course. I belong to many servers."

"Have you ever had a conversation on one server then days later found your words, your exact convo repeated in another server with different usernames?"

"What?!"

HC nodded. "You heard me. I have screenshots of this occurring to me many times. And imagine, for a minute, if you will. My livelihood is words, George. I write them; people buy them. But no, someone on Discord is STEALING THEM and reproducing them with a new username."

"And that isn't all. You know what beta readers are, and you know how important they are in the publishing business. I have more than one on my payroll and consider them essential employees. These are staff I simply cannot work without."

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

"Discord initiated an all-out psychological distress assault on one of my employees. To the extent of causing her panic attacks, yes, they are documented, and precipitating the need for her to fly to Miami in order to discover whether or not I am, in fact, a real person who employs her."

"This is expensive, and a tremendous waste of time when we could have been producing my next book, but I'm not done George. The ruse doesn't stop with Discord. There is at least one entire fiction on Purple Road that is a piracy of an out of print paperback book. There are Reviews that are repeated seventeen times under different usernames."

"WHAT?!"

"I cannot tell you if Purple Road is aware of what's going on or if they're involved in the deception too. All I can report to you is the facts as I have experienced them. And I am not a happy man this morning, George. Do unhappy men write best-selling books?" HC finished.

"Well, you could probably write a damn good murder mystery right now, Mr. Maron. You know I need your files. Everything you've documented. And then I need time. There will be questions, but this won't go unevaluated."

"That's the answer I expected, George. I'm glad we're on the same page."

"I await your findings, Mr. Maron. And— HC, I'm sorry. Really sorry. Thank you. For everything."

HC's face broke open in a smile, "Glad to see you doing so well, kid. Keep up the good work."

"Thanks. You'll be hearing from me."

"I better."

The video ended, and HC looked at us with a grin.

"That's all? It's over?" I asked.

"Not over, but it's out of our hands for now. Like he said, investigations take time. There will be questions, inquiries, and we'll have more to do. The biggest thing is to keep on our toes and continuing documenting everything we see that's off in Discord and Purple Road."

I nodded, "Fine, but can't we leave off for a bit? Go shopping? See Miami? Actually have a vacation?"

"Let's do it. Girls day!" Paddy clapped. "Bye, honey, enjoy your Seattle couple, we're off," she said, pulling me and Rhoda towards the door.

"Yeah, like I can write a cozy latte scene right now. George was right. Murder's more appropriate at this second," HC grumbled.

"Then get to dismantling people, dear, we're gone," his wife waved.

We were almost to the door when HC called out. "HAAAAA! Hot damn, girl! Sam! Log in to Purple Road right now!"

I did as he asked and couldn't believe what I found.

Purple Road Poetry Contest 2859 Winner Day 2: Ayela Scarsdale, "Unwritten Dreams."

"I won?" a small voice came out of my mouth.

"I won?" slightly stronger.

I looked at HC, face blooming in a giant smile. "I WON!"

"You got it, girl! YOU WON!" he boomed, arms wide.

I turned to Rhoda, "I WON!"

"YOU WON, SAM!" We jumped up and down, grabbing each other and squealing. "Yeeeeeee!!!!"

"Oh, it's 'Unwritten Dreams?' Paddy asked. "I thought it would be 'A Thousand Tiny Deaths' for sure."

"I know," I agreed with her. "'Unwritten Dreams' is an odd one. Maybe all the other poems for that day sucked or something?"

HC's deep laugh boomed, "Well, 'What's For Dinner' is in third place and 'A Fella Called Shoe' was second, so I'd say you have a future as a comedy writer, Sam."

We had a good laugh, then HC bustled us towards the door. "Off with you! Shop! Celebrate! Enjoy the damn hot sunshine! Boil yourselves in the Miami heat, then we'll go out for dinner tonight and celebrate the win. Let's not leave those dreams unwritten, ladies. Live big while you have the chance!"