The scariest part of writing is when people read it. I recently finished a novella that I have really enjoyed writing. Sarah was wonderful enough to offer to read it. _{Which means someone is reading my words!}

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

I am doing my best not to hover as she reads BUT that is so hard. The best part is that she is finding things in my writing that she has questions about, which is making the story better.

Anyone else want to read it? Here is the back cover:

Hester Pestle has run The Quiet Tincture, her family’s potion shop, for as long as she can remember choosing anything. The shop chose her first. She was good at it before she ever asked whether she wanted to be.

Cade Kilner arrives in Thistlehollow on assignment for Verdant Standard, the potion conglomerate. His job is to assess the market, sign a lease, and open a branch three blocks from her door. He has done this in four other towns. He is good at it. That is the problem.

On the same evening, in the same cluttered bookshop, they each buy a leather-bound journal. The journals are paired. Whatever one of them writes, the other one reads. They agree to the only rule the form requires: no names. No specifics. Just two strangers, honest in a way they cannot manage in person.

By the time Cade realizes who his pen pal is, his branch is already open. Her shop is already failing. And the kindest thing he has ever written was to the woman whose livelihood he came to dismantle.

A cozy fantasy about craft, scale, and the math of small towns.

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