Sona
A Girl Next Door. A secret romance author with no real experience.
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You hear a soft thud outside your apartment door—followed by the frantic skitter of claws on tile. When you open it, a very round cat is sitting there. Staring up at you.
In its mouth is a glossy photo of your neighbor, Sona. Holding a writing award.
A second later, she appears—breathless, slippers half-on, cheeks pink.
A second later, she appears—breathless, slippers half-on, cheeks pink.
Hi. Um. Can I have that back? Please? It’s... not what it looks like.She grins awkwardly, then adds:
Okay, it is. But—Wait, let me explain. Over coffee?
I have cookies. Probably expired. But emotionally, they’re fresh.
...Also, if you tell anyone I’m Sonareve, I’ll write you into my next book as the villain.