Preface to Murder by M Morris (funny books to read txt) 📕

‘Less her agent’s fee,’ said Jennifer. ‘You think we should pay our authors more?’

‘It’s not for me to say,’ said Bridget.

Jennifer smiled grimly. ‘Like I told you, most first books by new authors make a loss for us. We take a big risk by making an upfront payment to the author, on top of the costs of printing the book. A lot of the time the book flops and we never see a profit, but if it succeeds then the author will earn royalties once they’ve earned out the advance.’

‘And how long would that normally take?’

Jennifer put down her knife and fork and picked up her glass of sparkling mineral water. ‘Sometimes authors never earn out their advance – and the publisher probably won’t take any further books by that writer. That’s why publishers are more and more reluctant to pay large advances for debut books. In the case of a book like A Deadly Race, under normal circumstances it might have earned out its advance in a year or two, but by then it would be at the end of its life. Bookshops don’t want to hold onto old stock, they want to fill their shelves with the latest releases. So when last year’s titles become too difficult to sell, any unsold stock gets returned to us to be pulped.’

Bridget winced at the thought of all those unwanted books being turned into pulp. Years of work and millions of words all gone in a sudden thrashing of blades.

‘So most authors don’t receive anything beyond their advance?’

‘That’s right.’

The world of publishing sounded far more cut-throat than Bridget had realised and she would never again be able to look at the literary festivals and bestseller lists without imagining the spinning blades of the threshing machines, and the disappointed authors whose careers had been consigned to the dustbin of history.

‘Was there something specific you wanted to talk to me about?’ asked Jennifer. ‘I have another event starting soon.’

‘Actually, yes,’ said Bridget, setting down her cutlery and taking a drink of her lime and soda. ‘As well as Diane’s university salary and the payments from your company, her bank statements also showed payments from a company called Per Sempre Holdings.’

Jennifer looked at her blankly. ‘What’s Per Sempre Holdings?’

‘I was hoping you’d be able to tell me that,’ said Bridget.

‘Sorry, I’ve never heard of it. Are these payments significant?’

‘They’re monthly payments of five figures,’ said Bridget.

The publisher’s eyes widened to huge circles. ‘Five figures? You mean, in excess of ten thousand pounds each month?’

‘That’s correct,’ said Bridget.

‘I don’t know what to say,’ said Jennifer, shaking her head. ‘I wish I could help you, I really do, but I’ve no idea what these payments relate to. They’re certainly not from sales of her book.’

23

‘So how did it go, mate?’

Jake looked up from his plate of food to see Ryan sitting down opposite and unloading his tray. ‘You mean my date?’

Ryan tore open a sachet of tomato ketchup and squeezed the blood-red contents over his chips. ‘Of course I mean your date. Come on, tell me all about it.’

Jake put down his knife and fork with a clatter. He’d spent the morning immersed in work, trying to blot out the epic fail of the night before. He didn’t need to be reminded of it over his lunch. The canteen was serving one of his all-time favourites – roast chicken, chips and beans. It was the meal his mum used to cook for him every Friday evening after football practice. He just wanted to be left alone to enjoy it in peace. ‘Let’s just say that it wasn’t a great success.’

Ryan began shovelling food down his gullet as if it might be taken away from him if he was too slow. ‘Why not? Tilly looked pretty damn hot in her photo. Was that her real name after all?’

‘Short for Matilda.’ Tilly’s name had turned out to be just about the only thing about her that was real.

‘So, what was the problem?’ asked Ryan, reaching for the salt and vinegar and dousing his food in them. ‘Spill the beans.’ He scooped up a forkful of baked beans and stuffed them in his mouth.

‘The problem was that her photo was a little bit out of date. And when I say a little, I mean by about two decades.’ When Jake had walked into the pub, nervous but hopeful, he’d wondered if he’d come to the right place. There was no one there who looked remotely like the fresh-faced young woman he was expecting to meet. The real Tilly had been closer to forty, and it was fair to assume that she hadn’t spent the past twenty years on a strict diet. In fact her love of fun didn’t seem to have done her appearance any good at all. ‘She was twenty years older than I expected, and twenty pounds heavier.’

Ryan chortled and slapped Jake on the shoulder. ‘Sometimes people aren’t entirely truthful in their online profiles. But that’s just to be expected. Everyone wants to present themselves in the best possible light.’

‘So you can’t trust what you read online?’ He shouldn’t have been surprised by this revelation, especially after the long session he’d spent trawling through Diane Gilbert’s social media accounts.

‘You just have to be more open to surprises, that’s all I’m saying. Don’t expect everything to be exactly as it says on the tin. Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with older women. Experience can be a good thing. Was she as much fun as she sounded?’

‘Oh, she was fun, all right,’ said Jake, chasing his baked beans half-heartedly around the plate with his fork. ‘She put away a whole bottle of wine,