Max writes funny stories that come true.

He swears he means well. His first novella made Anya fall in love with him—and caused one poorly-attended funeral. When his plots go wrong, Max patches things up—apologies, ice cream, the city’s best extrasensory healer. His typewriter still works. His characters are still alive. Most of them.

But Anya is done being his muse. She wants the truth, not another revision.

For ten years Max has refused to write about Vera, his abandoned childhood friend. Now, Vera is back, demanding a brand-new fictional life he owes her.

As Vera’s new chapters bleed into reality, Anya starts to dissect the drafts with forensic obsession. To give her the honesty she’s hunting for, Max must write the one secret he’s always edited out.

It’s heavy and cold. And it’s hiding in Anya’s gym bag.

A surreal story about the lies we tell to survive—and the ones that refuse to stay on the page. For readers who like slow-burn suspense, dark humor, and reality just a little bit broken.