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Summary
“Good,” Colin’s mouth curves upward as he hums, using his pen to underline ‘writers block.’ He leans forward, hands on his knees as he meets her eyes. “So, I'm thinking…while we’re both here, what if we swapped genres? You write a romance novel, and I will write one of your realistic fiction books–that way, the change in what kind of thing we’re writing about will break both of us out of this…creative lapse in judgement.”
Penelope snorts, raising her eyebrows in complete and true disbelief. “Me…write a romance novel?” She says, her voice flat. “There’s no way you’re being serious.”
“Fine. But we make it a contest. We have to finish this book by August and whoever sells the most copies wins. The loser has to endorse the book of the person who wins, repeatedly. I’m talking social media, press tours, when you’re giving out recommendations at the Notting hill bookshop, all of it,” Penelope argues firmly. “I want my name and the name of my books to be in your mouth, constantly.”
Colin, looking a little awe struck by the initiative she’s taken, grins proudly. “Deal.”
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a polin fic that takes a spin on Emily Henry's Beach Read