From Death's Savage Passion, by Orania Papazoglou:

[For those keeping score: This mystery novel from the 1980s about romance writers moving into the "romantic suspense" field has to be the "shop-talkiest" work of fiction I've ever read. It wasn't a bad thing--it was educational and didn't really bog down the story.]

***

Her bright yellow bathrobe flapped [flapped!] over her bare feet, making her look like a particularly exuberant monk.

***

"Fans"--she shook her head resentfully--"are the only problem with the Russian Tea Room."

I didn't tell her she'd have less trouble with fans if she stopped sending her heroines to dinner in her favorite restaurants.

***

["Are You a House Name?" dept.]

"The way Verna was going, she was turning into a house name."

***

In a suite full of paper, there are paper rustles, paper sighs, paper complaints. Paper shudders and snaps in the ghost breezes, the ghost drafts. Writers' offices, literary agents' offices, publishing houses all sound like haunted mansions after dark.