Chapter 6

Bellini and Maisie

To: Bellini O’Donnell

From: Maisie Brown

Subject: Roxy Belle is missing

Hello, Bellini,

Greetings from your favorite literary agent! I hope you and the cats are doing well.

Looking forward to seeing the next installment of your Roxy Belle books.

Calm my nerves. Tell me I’ll have it by the end of December.

If I know that book is coming, then I’ll have a Merry Christmas. If not, I’ll be drinking.

Maisie

To: Maisie Brown

From: Bellini O’Donnell

Subject: Merry, Merry Christmas from Roxy Belle

Hi, Maisie,

I am sending Rudolph to you to help calm your nerves. He’ll be carrying wine and cake.

Don’t worry!

I’m writing while wearing a Mrs. Claus hat and my slippers with Christmas ornaments!

Bellini

To: Bellini O’Donnell

From Maisie Brown

Subject: Sure you’re writing?

Now I’m worried. Can you tell I’m worried? Do you hear me gnashing my teeth? Did you hear my blood pressure go up?

You don’t like Christmas.

I’ll take the wine and cake, but I know you’re not wearing a Mrs. Claus hat or slippers with Christmas ornaments.

You STILL haven’t started the next Roxy Belle book, have you?

Be honest.

Maisie

To: Maisie Brown

From: Bellini O’Donnell

Subject: Santa brings gifts to people who don’t lie

No, haven’t started it, but never fear—a story is percolating. Like eggnog at the North Pole. Wait. Does eggnog percolate? I don’t think so. The story is baking in my head like sugar cookies. Like peppermint schnapps. Like pecan pie on Christmas Eve.

While the story is percolating, I will be running my mother’s bar in Montana. I have told you about this bar. It can be a wild and edgy place. I am also planning a Christmas show that we do every year to raise money so all kids get Christmas presents. I’m going to be a tad busy.

But don’t you worry! Don’t you gnash your teeth. Don’t you be a grinch!

Roxy Belle is dancing in my head wearing a red T-shirt that says “Christmas Rocks.”

Bellini

To: Bellini O’Donnell

From: Maisie Brown

Subject: Vodka

I knew it. Nothing’s done. No story is written. Not a word.

You’re going to make me drink a straight shot(s) of vodka. The Grinch is looking better to me each day. Perhaps he will write his memoir and send it to me.

Portia, your dear editor—remember her? She is not going to be pleased.

She’s scary. She could eat the Grinch.

Maisie

To: Maisie Brown

From: Bellini O’Donnell

Subject: Jingle Bell Vodka

Don’t drink vodka, Maisie. You know even one shot makes you feel ill.

I will get a book to you by the end of December. LATEST, early January.

VERY LATEST, end of January.

I do not fear Portia.

With Santa’s love,

Bellini

I closed the lid of my computer. I would write another Roxy book. I had to.

This is how I make money. It is how I pay for my home in Oregon and feed my cats.

I put my head on the lid of the computer. I knocked my head against it, hoping an idea for my book would miraculously pop into my brain.

But even if it did, when would I have time to write it?

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