I was awakened by the annoying sound of the phone,

reached out, trying to make it stop. “Hello,” with my

best 7 A.M. voice.

“Is this Deidre Collins?”

Doesn't she know it's Sunday?

“Yes.” I would have fallen back to sleep, but then—

“This is Marcie Steiner, I’m sorry if I woke you.”

I couldn’t believe it! I threw back the covers. She’d had

it for two months now. My throat went dry, my chest heavy

with excitement.

“I’ve finished reading your manuscript. I have just the

right publisher for you. That is…if you still want me to

represent you.”

Now is the time for me to speak. I stand, swallow and

then sit back down on the edge of the bed.

“Yes, I’d be honored.” Where the hell are my cigarettes?

Oh yeah, I stopped smoking last month.

“Go back to sleep, I’ll call you later and we’ll get the

contract started.” The phone clicked and then, no one was

there.

What does she mean, go back to sleep? I’ll never sleep

again!” I might get published! I leapt toward the

bathroom and splashed water on my face. Coffee, I need

coffee. There will be rewrites. Not to mention the sequel

is only half finished. No time to hesitate. Let’s get

started—

Oh, what’s that damn noise? Go away! I opened my eyes,

it's 9 AM. Was I dreaming?

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