Finally! It finally feels like fall here in Pennsylvania the last few days, and I’m so happy about that. Even better, it looks like the fall weather is going to stick around all week. That will certainly make it easier for me to pack for the New Jersey Romance Writers conference later this week.
I’ve been taking a harder look at my first couple of shifter stories, and how I need to tighten up the over-reaching conflict for the series. Going to have to do some more rewriting. It will make the stories better, and it’s a definite pitfall of being a write-by-the-seat-of-your-pants writer, rather than a plotter. My brain just doesn’t work that way, and I’ve tried more than once to plot out my stories. I guess the good news is the only deadline I had for wrapping these up was my own, and not a publisher’s deadline. (Though I would rather have the publisher’s deadline, because I work better with real deadlines!)
Anyway, I will be spending some time working on making this series conflict stronger, but not until after I get back from the conference. We have an insanely busy week coming up at the day-job, and I’ll be out of the office for the conference for two of those five days. I’ll do my best not to feel guilty about that, but I am absolutely going to have a great time at the conference and attend some workshops bound to get my creative juices flowing. There is one on my must-list about self-publishing that will come in handy for my Medusa trilogy.
I’m also looking at my goals for this year with an eye to revising them (yes, again). There are some that are just not doable in the next two and a half months, but some things I can still accomplish that will put me closer to making more of my goals next year. Yes, I do start thinking about goals for the new year this early. I had a good chat with a writing friend yesterday that made me take a fresh look at some of my goals for the future, and I’m sure a few of the workshops on my list for this weekend will also give me ideas for refining and adjusting my goals, too.
( Photo by Glen Bowman on Foter.com / CC BY )
Before I go back to my notes for my shifter series, I have a little story snippet to share with you.
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India closed the file full of wedding pictures on her laptop and set the computer aside. Tessa and Harley had sent the rough shots as soon as they arrived from the photographer. Dozens of them, including one of her looking wistfully at her brother and new sister-in-law. She pushed to her feet and paced to the window.
Sighing, she reached up with one hand to unclip her hair from the neat twist she usually wore for work. That alleviated a tiny bit of the pressure in her head, but the rest was internal. She tossed the clip onto her desk and used both hands to rub at the base of her skull.
It had been a long week. Her uncle Adar had stormed into her office early Monday morning, growling about her treatment of his shiny new wife at the wedding reception, then a report she’d sent to Boris’s secretary had gone missing before lunchtime, and things had gone downhill from there.
Her only consolation right now was that she had one day left till the weekend. Of course, next week, she’d be stuck in Shifter Alliance Conference meetings in New York City all week. She stared down at the traffic and pedestrians on the street below, resting her forehead against the window. If she were going to New York to shop, that would be one thing, but with the conference schedule, she wouldn’t have time to wander the city on the hunt for any fabulous shopping opportunities or bargains.
She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Work. She needed a vacation. Somewhere on a beach, with room service.
She straightened and returned to her desk. She needed to get through next week before she could think about time off. And right now, there was a scheduling report on her computer–she should have been looking at that instead of Harley and Tessa’s wedding pictures, since the report was due this afternoon.
She leaned forward in her chair and turned the computer back around, tapping the keys to bring up the report again. Rubbing her temple to ease the ache in her head, it took her a few minutes to refocus her attention on the screen. Work.
An hour later, she’d nearly finished compiling the report, when India felt eyes on her, making the fine hairs at the back of her neck prickle. She looked up, frowning. No one. She tapped her fingers on the desktop, shifting her gaze to the window.
And then she saw him, standing at the window across the street.
Her heart leaped into high gear, and she tried to slow it down, tried to convince herself it was just her imagination, just a little wishful thinking left over from the weekend. Her imagination.
Even though she knew it wasn’t.
Rory was here.
Heat flashed through her, molten, and left her shivering. If she tried to leave the office, her legs would never hold her.
She couldn’t see his face clearly from here, but she didn’t need to. She knew it almost as well as her own, even after all this time.
She shut her eyes and turned back to her desk.
Her phone rang, and she nearly jumped out of her chair. Laughing at herself, she picked it up. “Hello?”
“Hello, a rúnsearc.” The lilting Irish accent teased her ear, familiar, sexy.
She went still, except for her racing heart. “What do you want?” The question came out hoarse, but she couldn’t help it. Her imagination went wild. Memories, good and bad, flooded through her.
He chuckled, and arousal stirred in her belly, spreading outward. She knew what he wanted. “Have dinner with me,” he said after a second.
“No.” She was a little surprised she’d managed to sound like she meant that.
“You’d really make me wait until the meeting next week to have a meal together?”
India shut her eyes. He would be there. Dear Gods.
“India, a rúnsearc?”
“Why are you here?” She should have just repeated her refusal and hung up.
“Why do you think?”
To torture her, obviously. Every part of her wanted to go to him, even now. “Because you’re a glutton for punishment,” she muttered.
He laughed again. “For you? Of course.”
She’d meant herself, and she flushed, trying to ignore the slow, thick trickle of heat in her veins, the building throb in her belly.
“But the pleasure is so much better,” he whispered.
A moan tried to climb her throat, and she covered her mouth with her free hand to contain it.
“I know you remember, too. How good.”
His words had every part of her body on high alert. Of course she remembered.
“Have dinner with me. Please.”
“When?” She’d meant to say ‘no’ again. Really.
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I was on the verge of saying how much I love Rory, but then I realized I said the same thing about Harley. I meant it, too, about both of them. It’s true, I love them both, and all of the other heroes in my shifter series. Someday, I hope readers will feel the same way.
Now I’m going back to work, and I’m going to enjoy my fall weather all week long. I hope you all do the same!
( Photo by Andrew Gustar on Foter.com / CC BY-ND )
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