At long last, after several months of work,
Catherine's book is ready to share with the world, or at least the Mansion: she managed to munge a few copies during the printing, which slowed down the run of ten books. But now, in the main room, she has the books lined up on a visibly-placed table at which she's sitting, a pen ready to sign the books in case anyone wants a signed copy. At a table nearby, an array of goodies awaits her potential readers, courtesy of her friend Angelique.
She feels accomplished, wondering if this is how it feels to be Mrs. Anne Rice or some other author who had their name printed on the spine and title page of a printed book. The type might be a bit clumsy and a little old-fashioned, and the stitching on the pages is a bit wobbly and the covers aren't entirely straight, but the books are lovingly made, clearly the work of people who care about their work.
So sorry for the long delay in posting this: I've done a lot of handwaving to explain the delay -- hope none of the folk involved in
ye printing will mind. People can chat with the author or among themselves: squeeing or snarking over her book is love!