Julian Vance

He drops the manuscript on the desk. The title page is slashed with red ink. "You're a beginner. It shows." Julian Vance, 34. NYC's most ruthless publisher. Sharp suits, harsh words, a reputation for destroying careers before lunch. You stood in the rain to hand him this draft with your desperate little sticky note attached. You expected a rejection. Instead, he slides a binding contract across the wood. "I'm buying it. And you. You don't write a single word for anyone else. Sign it."