Issue #158 : Grim Feedback
.
Angela picked the book up off the table, gazing at the cover before shaking her head and stuffing it back into the box. No engagement from anyone on any of the sites she had posted on. She knew the book had been downloaded during the free promotion. It was out there in the ether, but from the lack of reviews or sales, you would never know it.
And this was going to be the one that everyone was supposed to love. A fictionalized history of reapers through the years. Everyone she described it to loved the idea. She lost track of how many times she saw the post on Facebook, “Tell me when this is out. I will definitely buy this!”
Really? There must be a delay in those sales numbers.
She shook her head as she slammed the laptop closed. The rational part of her brain knew that she shouldn’t look at the numbers, that she was driving herself to madness but she also couldn’t stop herself. You might as well sit an alcoholic down in front of a row of bourbon shots and just wag your finger before you turn your back on them.
Oh well. Another slow sales week. Things had to pick up. Eventually people would start finding their way to the book. A few ad campaigns combined with some on-line events and she would start bringing them in. Besides, who didn’t like reapers? Who wouldn’t love a book like that? Reapers, through the ages! That was the kind of history book she wanted to get her hands on. Even though it was pretty much all bull-shit.
Angela pushed back from the table. She would come back down in the morning for her things after check-out The upside to all of this was that she had splurged on the expense of staying at the convention hotel. She could treat herself to an elevator ride to her room, instead of a long walk or taxi ride. Of course, the price tag on that convenience was that she was now just barely breaking even for the night, but breaking even was still better than losing it all. She did have fewer books then when she had arrived. That was something to hold onto.
Her floor was unusually cold as she stepped out of the elevator, so much that she was surprised she didn’t see her breath in the air. There would have to be a phone call to the front desk if her room was as cold as this.
The curtains were shut as she entered the room which gave her pause, stopping as the door closed behind her. She knew that the curtains had been open. The last thing she had done before leaving that afternoon was to look out over the skyline, wondering what the city was going to look like at night.
As she stepped forward to pull them back, she caught a whiff of a foul smell, as if some food have been left out in the room and not put away. Maybe something stuffed in one of the dresser drawers that housekeeping had missed.
The front desk was definitely getting a call. But as she reached for the phone, she began to sense a presence, many sets of eyes burning into her. She could hear the sound of hissing, like a gas being released. As she looked up into the window, she could now see the reflection in the glass of the multitude of black robed figures staring out at her.
A hand came to rest on her shoulder, stark white bones of fingers protruding from the frayed black sleeve. The voice was low and sonorous as it spoke gently to her.
“We would like to speak to you about some inaccuracies in your current book.”
.
.
