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SIX MONTHS AFTER THE DEATH OF ROSE FONTAINE, NO HEIR APPARENT IN SIGHT

By Holly Denton

“She’s irreplaceable. Both as a writer and a best friend.”

The words of powerhouse romance editor Keira Madison are accompanied by a single tear. It’s clear that six months after the tragic death of bestselling author Rose Fontaine, she’s not recovered from the event that turned her professional and personal life upside down. Her famously sharp wit has been understandably dulled a bit, the turquoise eyes surrounded by a constellation of freckles seem less full of life. And while losing the woman she considered her closest friend has been emotionally devastating, Madison must put her feelings aside and focus on what seems to be an impossible task.

Finding a writer who can capture the romance market in the same way Rose Fontaine did. In many ways, it’s like trying to find a new best friend.

“Her voice was so unique, and her plots were damn clever,” said Madison. “Readers could never anticipate the endings of her books. Her work was never formulaic and she always came up with something new. So many writers do the same book over and over while just changing the characters. With Rose, each book was unique, each one had its own formula. Every time we released one other authors tried to copy that formula, but no one ever could.”

Madison and Fontaine began their publishing journey together, she the rookie editorial assistant fresh out of college and Fontaine the young author looking for her first break. Madison found Fontaine’s manuscript for Soul Mate in what is known as the “slush pile”; a place where unrequested manuscripts go to die. Together they watched it become the bestselling romance novel of all time. Madison acquired the nickname “Cover Girl” since she came up with the concept for one of the most famous book covers in publishing history and continued to inspire Fontaine’s other dust jackets. Soul Mate sold more than forty million copies and was developed into a hit movie, making Fontaine incredibly rich while rocketing Madison up the publishing ladder. The “Rose of Romance” as she became known now has more than 200 million copies of her books in print.

“We were both new to publishing, the same age, and had a ton of stuff in common,” said Madison, voice cracking. “We just clicked and became incredibly close in a short time. Since we were both freckle-faced redheads people thought we were related, and it felt like we were. For thirteen years she was the sister I never had. I miss her terribly.”

While the two shared common interests and a tight personal bond, Fontaine would never let Madison peek at her works-in-progress. “She never gave me a concept, an outline or a synopsis. She wanted me to be as surprised as the reader so I never got a manuscript until it was finished. Which is one of my problems with her last book. She had one chapter to go and I have no idea how it was going to end. I’ve read it three times and can’t figure it out. Neither can anyone on our staff. And even if I did figure it out, I’d have to find a writer who could copy her unique voice to finish it. Good luck with that. So right now it’s sitting on my desk and I doubt it will ever be completed. It would be a wonderful legacy for her because it’s a spectacular book, but it’s in limbo.”

Meanwhile, revenue for the publisher has dropped considerably without the best-selling author cranking out two books each year.

“Every day I come to work hoping I won’t hear it, but someone always says it. We’ve got to find another Rose. And I have to resign myself to the fact it may never happen. I keep thinking of that line from Shakespeare. A rose by any other name wouldn’t smell as sweet.”

Gretchen Beckett, who hated her full name and insisted on being called Gretch, was the perfect assistant for a romance editor. Keira smiled as her right-hand girl entered her office and handed her the morning mail. Keira studied Gretch’s face, hoping for a smile from the spunky woman who was the clearing house for gossip in the publishing office. A grin meant someone on the staff had read something wonderful and Gretch would be chomping at the bit to tell Keira first.

Alas, no smile.

“How was your weekend?” asked Keira, not really asking about her personal life.

Gretch shrugged. “Four smoking-hot men with zero personality.” The curvy twenty-eight-year-old doe-eyed brunette snapped her ever-present chewing gum. “Sorta like the guys I usually date.”

“Those aren’t dates, Gretch, they’re exercise.”

Her assistant sat, her short leather skirt riding up on her thigh. “Hey, girl’s gotta scratch an itch.”

“Yeah, and you’ve got sexual poison ivy. So, did you read all four books I gave you already?”

“I tried to read them. Just like the Mets, oh-for-four. Didn’t even get out of the batter’s box. Swing and a miss for the golden sombrero.”

“The what?”

“When a batter strikes out four times in one game, it’s known as getting the golden sombrero.”

“Oh.” Keira looked down at the legal pad which held her notes on the books in question. “What was wrong with Tryst in the Mist? The synopsis sounded great.”

Gretch twirled her long necklace as she blew a bubble. “Well, said tryst pretty much missed. Foreplay was about two paragraphs. The actual tryst was one. And the writing wasn’t up to your standards. See Dick chase Jane. See Dick nail Jane. See both light up a cigarette. The end.”

Keira ran the pencil down the pad. “How about the erotic one, Seduction Place?”

“If I lived on Seduction Place I’d move out due to the lounge lizards. It read like a bad porn movie from the seventies. All I needed was synthesizer music while I was reading.”

“You’ve been watching late-night Cinemax again, haven’t you?”

Gretch smiled as she shrugged. “It saves me from actually talking to my dates and it’s a convenient method of foreplay. Worth the ten bucks a month.”

Back to the legal pad. “The sweet romance… Down the Aisle?”

“I left the writer at the altar around halfway through. Big time head hopper. Honestly, I didn’t know whose point of view I was reading, and it would change in the middle of the scene like one of those body-switching movies. When the priest said ‘Speak now or forever hold your peace’ I actually yelled ‘Stop the wedding!’.”

Last one. “Man-a-holic sounded like a funny rom-com.”

“I’d be an alcoholic if I had kept reading. Not a single laugh in the first ten chapters. Lotta rom, no com. Sorta blows the hell out of the premise.”

Keira shook her head and exhaled. “Anyone in the bullpen excited about anything the morning?”

“Nope. But I’ve already got the two trainees digging through the slush pile, so you never know what you might find.”

“Don’t I know it.” Her mind wandered back to her first days at the publishing house, when she pulled Rose Fontaine out of the massive pile of manuscripts. She couldn’t help but smile.

“What?”

“I was just thinking, before electronic submissions we actually had a slush pile room that was filled about six feet high with real paper manuscripts. It looked like something from one of those hoarding reality shows. One day the pile fell over while I was sitting on the floor reading and it actually buried me in an avalanche of paper.” The phone interrupted her thoughts and the name she saw on her cell made her eyes widen. “Holy shit, it’s Bella Farentino.”

“And she only calls when she’s got something good. Put it on speaker. Gretch wants to listen.”

Keira sat up straight. Gretch leaned forward as she answered the call and engaged the speaker. “Hi, Bella!”

“How’s my favorite romance editor?”

“I’d be better if I found the next big thing.”

“Yeah, I hear ya. Seriously, how you holdin’ up, kiddo? I read the article about you in The Post last week.”

Keira’s eyes misted at the thought of her best friend. “Hangin’ in there, but it’s tough. I keep seeing things that remind me of Rose. Still can’t believe she’s gone.”

“You were a good friend to her, Keira. And the woman was an absolute gem.”

“She was the best. So, did you just call to check on me, or have you got something that will brighten my day?”

“Like I said, I read the article in The Post, and I’ve got the answer to your prayers. No disrespect to your dear friend, but I found the next Rose Fontaine.”

Keira and Gretch both sat up straight, eyebrows up. “And this person would be…”

“Debut author named Alex Bauer. The book is called Ring Girl. Honest to God, the best romance I’ve read in years. Funny as hell and will make you cry at the same time. A lot like Rose’s books with the same snarky voice. Went through the whole manuscript in one shot, kept me up till three in the morning. The author has an incredible style. Anyway, I’m calling you first.”

“And how many editors are you calling today?”

“One. You. I’m giving you an exclusive. You’ve always been fair with me, Keira, I trust you and consider you a friend. Besides, the universe and the New York Post tell me you need some good fortune and I need a good deed to balance out what I’m gonna tell the priest in confession this week. But I will tell ya, if you want this book, it’s gonna cost ya. Because after the exclusive, you’re gonna have to take a number to get it.”

“If you found the next Rose then money is no object. How long do I have?”

“Till close of business Thursday. If you don’t want it or your offer isn’t acceptable to the author, I’m sending it out Friday. And then I guarantee it will go up for auction. If you want it, you gotta pre-empt it. So you’ve got four days. But guess what, Keira?”

“What?”

“You’re only gonna need one of those days.” Keira heard a keyboard tapping. “Okay, it’s on the way to your inbox. Enjoy.”

“Bella, I can’t thank you enough. I really appreciate you thinking of me.”

“You’ll be thinking of me tomorrow, honey. And when you do, be thinking of a big number that will knock my socks off. Tell Jill to open up the vault. Operators are standing by.”

“I’ll start reading right now. Bye, Bella.”

“Talk soon, kiddo. And smile. God and Bella love you.”

Keira hung up, quickly flipped open her laptop and clicked on her email as Gretch got up and moved behind her. She looked up at her assistant. “Gretch, I can forward it to you.”

“Nah, we gotta read the first part together. I wanna see the look on your face that you had when you found Rose.”

Keira smiled as she maneuvered the mouse over the email attachment from Bella. “Ready?”

“Let’s rock.”

The manuscript opened and page one filled the screen.

By page ten, both women were beaming.

“So who was that?” asked Alex.

“The number one editor in romance, Keira Madison. She’s the one who discovered Rose Fontaine.” Bella reached behind her and pulled a New York tabloid from the credenza, flipped it open, then handed it to Alex. “Here’s an article about her that was in The Post on Friday. It’ll help you get familiar with her, since I think it’s a stone-cold lock she’ll buy your book.”

Alex looked at the paper and studied the photo above the article. “Hey, this is the editor I saw at the writer’s conference. The one who said romance was the easiest genre to crack. She’s indirectly responsible for the book. What a wild coincidence.”

Bella reached for her candy jar, grabbed a Hershey kiss, unwrapped it and leaned back as she popped it in her mouth. “Small world. Serendipity is a beautiful thing.”

“She single?”

“Why?”

“I’ve got a thing for redheads. And she seemed pretty cute from a distance.” He looked at the photo again. “Looks even better here.”

Bella rolled her eyes. “Ah, so that’s why your heroine is a tall, skinny redhead and looks exactly like Keira. Ring Girl is your own personal fantasy.”

He shrugged. “It’s fun creating Miss Right on paper. Anyway, is this Keira available? When I heard her talk she went on this funny rant about how she never meets men in her profession. I listened to her for a few minutes and she sounded like she had a lot of spunk. Also my type.”

“She wrote the book on spunk. Well, let me ask you this… is the male love interest in your book based on you? Emotionally, I mean.”

“Pretty much. Why?”

“I’ve known Keira a long time. And what you’re written describes her perfect man.”

His eyes widened. “Really.”

“Yep.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Is she currently seeing anyone?”

“Had lunch with her a few weeks ago, and she’s still spending Saturday nights with a bubble bath, a book and a bottle of wine.”

“Terrible waste of an attractive redhead.”

“Huh. I always thought she was kinda plain.”

“She’s my type. All men have a type, you know.”

Bella put her palms up. “So, you want I should fix you up?”

“I wouldn’t mind meeting her. You know, see if there’s any chemistry beyond the initial attraction. Since, you know, you think I might be her type.”

“Hmmm, let me get this straight. You want me to play Jewish mother with a woman you can’t meet because she has to think you’re a woman despite the fact that the qualities of the male character in your book are basically yours and those she has conveyed to me that are necessary in her dream guy. Please explain how I am supposed to make this happen.”

“Yeah, I guess that might be a problem. This sounds like a romance novel in itself.”

“So, you want a date with the redhead, figure out a plot twist.”

Keira looked at the clock, saw it was ten minutes till six and hoped her publisher hadn’t left for the day. She dialed the extension and drummed her fingers on the desk while it rang.

“Keira, I was just about to leave—”

“Jill, hang for sixty seconds. I’ll be right there.”

“This important?”

“Extremely.”

“Okay, but hurry. I’ve got a dinner date.”

Keira hung up and bolted out of her office, dashed down the long hallway that led to the corner office occupied by the publisher. The door was already open and she saw Jill Howland looking at the skyline. “Thanks for staying,” she said, out of breath.

The forty-year-old publisher turned to face her as Keira leaned over and rested her hands on her knees. “Sweetie, you gotta get out of your office and work on your cardio.”

“Later. Anyway, I found her.”

“Found who?”

She stood up straight. “The next Rose Fontaine.”

Jill’s eyes widened and she plopped down into the chair behind her desk. “Seriously?”

“Bella Farentino sent the book over this morning. We’ve got an exclusive for four days, but you’ll want to pre-empt this. It’s incredible. I spent the entire day reading it. Didn’t even go to lunch.”

“You didn’t have lunch?”

“Okay, I demolished that box of chocolates you gave me.”

“Ah, your sweet tooth rears its ugly head.”

“Anyway, I just emailed the manuscript to you. It’s called Ring Girl. Debut author named Alex Bauer. Seriously, Jill, you need to stay up all night if you have to and read it. You’ll need a cold shower when you’re done.”

“That steamy?”

“That’s the amazing part. There are no sex scenes. It’s a sweet romance but an incredible turn-on. The hero is off the charts. He’s everything women want in a guy, and more. And the chemistry between him and the heroine is smoking hot. Plus, just like Rose’s books, it has an ending no one will ever see coming.”

Jill studied her face and slowly nodded. “First time I’ve seen you smile since…”

Keira bit her lower lip for a moment as her eyes welled up a bit. “Yeah, I know. But even Rose would admit this writer has an amazing voice. And the book has a really clever plot, just like her books did. Look, Bella gave us four days and I trust her, but I want to lock this up as soon as possible just in case this rookie author goes rogue and does something crazy like switch agents and hire an uncle. I want to present our best offer first thing in the morning.”

“You’re that sure?”

“Gretch read it too and she was all flushed like she usually looks after a Chippendales show. She just left for the bar downstairs to find the nearest breathing male she could ravish.”

“And… how does the good Catholic girl know how Gretch looks after a Chippendales show?” Jill raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Hmmm?”

Keira blushed. “I, uh, ran into her one Saturday night when she was leaving the club. I happened to be out for a walk. On, you know, my way to confession.”

“Uh-huh.” Jill chuckled a bit. “Okay, I’ll read it tonight, but let me make a call first.”

“Jill, please don’t call the CEO. You know he’s a cheap bean-counting sonofabitch and doesn’t understand romance.”

“I wasn’t calling him. I’m breaking my dinner date.”