Chapter 1 Manhattan, New York “I used to be Amish.” The extra-hot, double shot, oat milk latte burbled in Darcy King’s stomach. She clutched the cup in an over-caffeinated death grip, fearing any moment it would crumple and cascade coffee down her white cashmere sweater. “At least my family was…back in the day.” Everyone—every editor and staff writer and editorial assistant and freelance photographer like herself and, oh yes, the terrifying Editor in Chief of Hudson Magazine, Margo Ricconi-Gladstone herself, stared. Darcy shifted on the three-inch wide windowsill at the back of the conference room where she perched with the other freelancers lucky enough to gain access to editorial meetings and desperate to maintain that status. She swallowed hard, tasting coffee and fear. She’d been advised repeatedly to fly under the radar. Drawing attention to herself and in so doing, the ire of every senior staff member was not necessarily wise. Some staff...
"Like all great books, this one gets you thinking." And like enticing reviews, this one gets me thinking. Trees are like outer space or the deep sea -- so much vast mystery to explore.
ReplyDeleteCan you tell me about "the chinaman?" Is that an actual character name in the book? Looking forward to our gathering today.