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Life Conspiring

I’d love nothing more than to be an author, first and foremost.  For that to be my primary focus all the time.  Writing gives me a solace and a creative outlet that I need to function, and to be able to put the words on a page, and craft a story I can share with the world is one of my greatest joys.  Sometimes greatest frustrations too, but that’s a different blog post.

But it can’t be my primary focus, not right now.  Maybe not ever.  And I deal with that in my own way.  But because it’s not, there is a lot of life I have to deal with and sometimes it gets in the way of writing.  And sometimes it feels like it’s all conspiring against me.

The last few months have been stressful, incredibly so, as I’ve been dealing with issues at the evil day job that keep getting worse.  The last week and a half, there’s been family issues too, things going on that I can’t control and that all I can do is worry about. The combination has taken it’s toll on my poor brain.

Basically, I’m a piping hot mess of worry and that’s not the most conducive mindset for writing.  I’ve been able to scrabble out a few words.  The flash fics too.  And I will keep plugging along.  But things are slow.  It’s hard to get the focus.  And I’m putting pressure on myself in a lot of directions.

The point of this post?  To say that I may be scarce for a bit longer, and that I’m not doing much writing.

Brandon and Jared will entertain you again on Friday with their continuing saga.  They can’t wait to share it with you.  I can’t wait for you to read it either.  The flashes will happen no matter what else goes up here.  And I’ll be back just as soon as I can

Flash Fic Friday

Flash Fic Friday

**Brandon and Jared return again, this time trapped by snow in a mountain cabin.  Enjoy!**

I woke up sticky, sore, and smiling.  Last night had been so good, exactly what we needed and wanted.  I was sure Jared left bruises on my hips and hickeys on my throat.  We’d been apart for weeks, and he’d been particularly aggressive.  I was surprised he hadn’t attacked in the airport or the car, managed to keep it to just a passionate kiss or four, and was able to restrain himself until we got all the way to the mountain cabin I’d rented for us.  I’d finally finished filming Robber Barons and I was desperate to spend some quality time with Jared.  I needed it.

So I rented the seclude cabin on the mountain.  It wasn’t far from the resort but the eight rental cabins all afforded a great deal of privacy.  When I had perused the website, it hadn’t taken me long to make up my mind.  I had my finger hovering over the book button the entire time I talked to Jared.  I clicked it as soon as he’d given permission.  But last night had been worth it all, to have him own me so thoroughly and completely.

Tucked against his big body, I was overly warm, but I snuggled even closer.  It was the only place I truly wanted to be, and even though he was still sound asleep, I was more than happy to stay right there and enjoy the quiet.

Which, now that I thought about it, was a little too quiet.

Unease started curling in my gut.  I listened hard, trying to figure out what was wrong.  And then I realized it.  There was no hum of the heater, no faint electrical buzz from the clock on the bedside table.  In fact, it sounded like a blanket had been thrown over everything.  I sat up, pushing the quilts down, and was attacked by a frigid cold that had me shivering.  But I still got out of bed, despite turning into one big goosebump, and made my way to the window.  Last night, before we’d closed the curtain, we were able to see the glow from the resort down the road.  When I pulled the curtain aside, I saw nothing but white.

I made my way, quickly and quietly, out of the bedroom and into the front room.  The huge picture window along the front of the cabin confirmed my worst fears.  There was nothing but snow, feet of it, piled up in all directions.  And it was still coming down.  I swallowed hard, shivering in the freezing air, and willed myself not to panic.

“Brandon?” Jared’s voice sounded a bit muffled, like he was just emerging from our blanket cocoon.

“O-out h-h-here,” I stammered.

He was at my side in an instant, his dark brown eyes assessing.  He grabbed the afghan from the back of the couch and wrapped it around my shoulders before he hugged me tightly to him.

“We’re s-s-snowed in,” I said, hating that my words were fighting me.  It had been so long since I’d stuttered in front of Jared, and it was making me angry that the situation was getting to me.  I was with Jared.  There was nothing to worry about.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You know I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Jared said as if he’d read my thoughts.  He kissed my forehead, then my eyes and nose, before giving me a quick but passionate kiss. Then he led me toward the couch and urged me to sit.

He didn’t seem to be fazed by the cold, or at least, he wasn’t physically reacting to it.  And I couldn’t tear my eyes off his ass as he knelt in front of the fireplace, and set to work lightly the wood already inside.  It only took him a few minutes before he straightened and then pulled the screen in front of the flames.

“It’ll be warmed up in here in no time,” he said confidently.  Then he leaned over me to drop a kiss on my head.  “Stay here for a bit, all right?  I’m going to check things out.”

I nodded, even as I smiled.  “Yes, sir.”

His grin was gorgeous, and I was rewarded with another kiss, before he strode into the bedroom.  I noticed a book of amenities and services the resort offer, and picked it up.  A moment later he reappeared in sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt, and then he started poking around the cabin; first in the kitchen, then in the back storage closet.

“There’s a generator in the closet, and gasoline,” Jared said with a smile, as if that made everything better.  I had to grin in response, and I held up the binder I’d been leafing through while he searched.

“It r-runs the fridge and the hot w-water heater.”  I opened the book to the page and then handed it over.  “Emergency protocol.”

Jared was instantly absorbed, reading.  I slid across the cushions until I could snuggle up beside him.  The fire hadn’t made things warm enough yet, and Jared was always the best source of heat.  The man was like a furnace.  He didn’t say anything as he memorized the protocol.  My man was a Marine, and he’d make do, but he liked it better when he was prepared. When he was done, he snapped the book shut and laid it aside.

“We’re going to be fine,” he assured me.  I loved his confidence.  I always had.  It was one of the first things that drew me to him.  His confidence was because he was solid, and solid was what I needed desperately.  I nodded fast, and pushed in closer.

“There’s no reason to worry,” he said quietly, pulling me in tight.  “It said this happens from time to time, but they have procedures in place.  We’ll be fine for at least a week, but the resort staff will get to us before that time elapses, even if the snow doesn’t clear.”

I nodded again even as I crawled into his lap.  Jared didn’t hesitate to wrap me in his arms, and position us so I could push my face into his neck.  I inhaled deeply, taking in his earthy, musky scent and letting it calm me.  I loved the way he smelled, and it triggered me to feel safe.  Every dang time.  Also horny, because Jared was incredibly sexy, but that could wait.

“Brandon,” he said, his voice dropping to a lower register.  The things that voice did, the way it flipped my switch, was a marvel to me.  I took a deep breath and let it out, and with it the anxiety and tension left too.  He gave a hum approval, and his big hands cradled my head. “There you go.”

I gave him a small and shaky smile.  “Sorry, sir.  I’m sorry our vacation got ruined.”

Jared started, and then his eyebrows scrunched together like he was confused. “Ruined?”

I blinked.  “Because of the snowstorm?”

Jared’s expression cleared, and then his eyes filled with lust. In a lightning fast move, he had me pinned beneath him.  The growl he let out made me shiver and arch against his body.  “We’re stuck together, unable to leave, unable to see anyone else, with nothing to do but eat, fuck and talk.  And not necessarily in that order.  By what definition of the word is that ‘ruined’?”

Well, when he put it that way….

I spread my thighs so he could fit between them, pulling my knees up to bracket his hips.  “I love you, Jared.”

Jared was too busy sucking up another mark on my neck to answer, but I didn’t need the words.  I trusted him completely, and I knew how he felt.  I tilted my head back so he had better access to my neck, and didn’t even try to stop the whine that escaped.  His answer was a growl that vibrated my skin, but he didn’t seem in any hurry to move things along.  Jared was in the mood to take this slowly.  I clung to him, watching the snow fall, and grinding my hips against him.

How could I have ever thought our vacation was ruined?  It was perfect.

Flash Fic Friday

Flash Fic Friday

**Something like Trust released on Sunday! Join Jared and Brandon as they tell us some more of their story….with dinner on a balcony and a slow dance. Enjoy!**

I knew what Brandon sounded like in all his moods.  And it was my job to give him what he needed.  So when I distinctly heard the strain in his voice—he was trying very hard to hide it—I suggested rather forcefully that he come home for a visit.  Three months was a long time to be away, especially for Brandon.  He’d managed two trips home in that time, and we talked every night, but it wasn’t enough.  My boy needed grounding, needed quiet and stillness, or else his anxiety spiked to dangerous levels.

It was hard for him to live such a public, chaotic life when at his core, he was a consummate introvert.

Brandon couldn’t come home, though, no matter how much we both wanted that.  There was only two weeks of filming left, and despite how much it had been wearing on him, Brandon was actually enjoying himself.  There were rumors that what started out as a one shot miniseries would be given a second miniseries as well, a second season.  Brandon was over the moon, thrilled to be able to portray his character a second time. Even though neither of us wanted to be separated for another six months while he filmed in Vancouver, it was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up.

But that was still up in the air, and we would deal with that if it happened.  For right this moment, I was more concerned with my man on the edge of breaking when he still had two weeks left of work.  He couldn’t come to me, so I went to him.

He’d given me his spare key on his first trip home, just in case of emergency, and I used it to let myself into his nice, if not overly fancy, hotel suite.  It smelled like Brandon and I inhaled deeply, taking it in and relishing it.  It had been too long since I had smelled him.

I didn’t linger overlong.  The night before he’d told me it was his early day today, and that meant he’d be home by five.  That didn’t leave me much time.

By the time I heard him fighting with card reader, I was ready.  I pushed open the French doors that lead from his tiny living room out onto an awesome balcony.  I’d set the table with candles, though the wind was trying to blow them out, the music was playing softly, and I had already laid out the meal.  It was his favorite, Zane’s lasagna.  My brother had taken it straight from the oven and packed it up in such a way that after the three hour drive and the forty-five minute wait, it was still warm, but now the perfect temperature to eat.

I was waiting in the living room when Brandon came in, grumbling.  He saw me, and his entire body went stock still.  He didn’t even breathe.  I didn’t say anything.  I didn’t have to.  I just opened my arms and he came running, burying his face in my neck.  I held him to me, squeezing almost too tightly, and he just trembled and sighed, the relief pouring off him in waves.

“N-n-needed this,” he muttered into my skin.  I dropped a kiss on his head, then pulled back far enough to look into his eyes.

“I know,” I said with a smile, and then I leaned down to kiss him properly.  When we finally broke apart, we were both panting.  I tilted my head toward the balcony.  “Come eat.”

Brandon’s smile grew huge.  “Zane cooked for me?”

“Of course he did.  He knew what you needed.”  I gave him a pointed look.  “And so do I.  Which is why I’m here with your favorite meal.” I paused as familiar notes caught my attention.  The British redhead singing about waiting for someone to come home.  “And your favorite song.”

Brandon’s sigh was deep and content.  “And my favorite person.  Dance with me?”

It wasn’t exactly easy to dance to this song, and he looked and sounded relaxed.  Which he hadn’t been in weeks.  I pulled him in close, fitting his body to mine as we began to sway to the beat.  I could do nothing else because I loved him so much.

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What Works For Me

As you can imagine, I follow a lot of blogs/authors/sites having to do with the m/m community. It’s a great place to be and most of the time there’s a lot of fun and entertaining things.

Sometimes authors talk about their processes, how they get the words on the page, what weird quirks they have, and I love that. I love hearing how other people’s brains work. So these posts/conversations alway catch my interest. 

But sometimes they turn into instructions, about how one HAS to write or should be doing it and that’s when I’m left feeling inadequate. Like I’m doing it wrong. 

I hate that. 

It’s only recently that I’ve come to accept that my process is what works for me and it’s not wrong or bad or anything else. It’s right, for me, and that’s all that matters. 

Look here’s the thing. I don’t write everyday. Sometimes it’s better for me not to write for a whole week, even two, and then really get into the zone and write non stop for ten hours on a Saturday. 

I need concrete motivation. I like to set the timer for an hour and write like mad until it goes off, and then take a break and play a game or something. Yes an hour. Not 15 or 20 minutes. Yes an hour is a long time.  But that’s what I need. That’s the sweet spot, the amount of time that works best for me. 

And I need accountability. Which is where my rough outline of major plot points comes in handy. Not only does it give me a basis to write off of, but it allows me to hold myself accountable for what needs to get written. And once I gave myself permission to view that outline as completely and totally changeable I was able to use it in that manner and to get stories written. 

So this is what works for me. I’d never presume to tell anyone else this is how they should do things. It took me a lot of trial and error for figure out what I need as a writer to work, and it took a long time to accept that this is okay. Because there are a lot of how tos out there that are very specific about what should be done in order to be successful. But we’re all different and our brains work in different ways. This is how mine writes a story. 

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The Good News

Something Like Trust is out! Woo!  You can get it directly from Amber Allure or hop over to ARe.  It’s not up on Amazon yet, but that should be soon.

I hope you get it and I hope you like it.  These guys are near and dear to my heart.  There is something about their relationship that I just love, and I’m so excited for them to be out in the public and for everyone to have a chance to read their story, should they wish.

If you haven’t read the first one, this story definitely stands on it’s own.  You won’t have any trouble following along.  Each book in the series will work just fine as a standalone.  Except maybe the last one, but that’s far down the road at this point.

Because I’ve just (finally!) started writing Something Like Peace, and I’m more than five thousand words in.  This one has been a challenge from the beginning; first it got pushed off to the third book, then it was replotted three times, there was the whole drama with losing the outline and having to do it all over again.  Day job has been crazy stressful for months now, and I’ve been working long hours.  It’s been one thing after another, keeping me from writing it, and some of it has been my own head.

But now, I’ve begun.  I just jumped right in.  And I can see the whole story taking shape before me.  I don’t know when I’ll actually get it done, but I’ll do my best not to procrastinate.  At least, not too badly.

So sit back and enjoy Something Like Trust. It’s on sale all week at Amber.  Take advantage of it.  Enjoy Jared and Brandon and watch them fall in love.

And know there is definitely more to come in this series.

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Release Day!!

SomethingLikeTrustWhile working security for a popular prime time television show, reservist Jared Connors meets guest star Brandon Culpepper. They are immediately drawn to each other, quickly discovering they are exactly what the other needs in a friend and a lover.

Even though Brandon is in town for only the duration of his guest-starring role, the men agree to have a short-term affair. When the filming is finished, however, it’s harder to let go than either man expected, but Brandon has to leave for another role. Their resolve for their relationship to end is soon tested when each realizes their emotions are more involved than they originally thought.

But figuring out a way for their very different lives to fit together seems an impossible task. Can they trust each other enough to find a long-term solution? 

Sound fun?  There is something about this story that I completely adore.  I love the relationship between Brandon and Jared.  I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I do.

So.  How about an excerpt?

You can buy it here.

“What about you, Brandon?” I liked saying his name. I liked the way it felt in my mouth.

He blinked those pretty eyes. “What about m-me?”

I grinned, doing my best to be charming, then turned so I was standing next to him. I made sure I was close enough that he could sense my presence, but I didn’t want him to feel pressured. I let my gaze scan the set, taking it all in, even as I spoke to him.

“Are you gay? If I were to ask you out, say for dinner at a quiet little hole-in-the-wall, out-of-the-way restaurant that has outstanding food, would you say ‘yes’? Or would you tell me that I’m barking up the wrong tree?” I knew I wasn’t, but I thought I’d give him the easy out if he wasn’t interested in me. I was fairly certain I wasn’t wrong about that either, but I was willing to give him the option of bowing out gracefully.

He let out a small, quiet laugh. “Barking is for d-dogs, Jared. Are you a dog?”

I heard the worry underneath the question he’d tried to say jokingly. I turned quickly, and gave him my full attention so he would not miss how serious I was.

“No, Brandon,” I assured him, my voice low but utterly sincere. “I am not a dog.”

Finally, he looked me in the eye of his own volition, his entire being focused on me. He studied me, and I let him. Then he took a deep breath, and I knew instantly that he believed me. Was, in fact, willing to trust me.

“Then I would say, yes, Jared. I am gay. And yes, I’d like to go to dinner with you.” His voice was soft, but there was no hint of the stutter that usually plagued his words. The relaxed set of his shoulders gave me the idea that he was comfortable in my presence, and I had to wonder if the stutter came out only with his nerves. The thought made me feel smugly proud.

“Outstanding,” I said, letting myself smile. “Are you free tomorrow evening?”

Flash Fic Friday

Flash Fic Friday

**I’m going to preface this one with the disclaimer: the Admiral said I could!  Enjoy an end of summer barbeque and an unexpected but welcome kiss.  Also, you can find the Admiral’s version of the story here.**

The barbeque was Katie’s idea.

I wasn’t exactly up to a party, but she deserved to relax and have a good time with family and friends.  My sister was rock star awesome, and I couldn’t ask for anyone better.  So if she wanted to take Labor Day off, and just party all day, then I was not going to stop her.  Everyone else seemed to think it was a good idea, swarming in and bringing so much food I wasn’t sure that it would all get eaten.  Uncle Jimmy was manning the grill, with Uncle Tommy standing close by and assisting.  Katie’s best friend Cindy was flitting around, making sure every dish was full and that everyone had what they needed.  Katie herself was standing in a group of friends and family, laughing her head off at something, and looking radiant in the sunshine.  My sister deserved this, and it made me happy to see her so carefree.

I pulled the afghan a little tighter around me and leaned back deeper into the Adirondack chair.  It was comfortable, much more so than any of the other deck chairs, and I was happy to be sitting in the fresh air.  It had to be at least eighty degrees out here, though it was cooler where I was sitting in the shade of the awning, but I was still cold.  Losing thirty pounds over the course of a couple of months would do that to a person.

Chemo was the devil and radiation was its evil twin.

Being sick sucked so badly I didn’t even have words.  But I was fighting the cancer trying to eat my body.  And my beloved sister was the one to drag my ass to appointments, clean me up when I was too sick and weak to move, soothe me when the pain was too great, take care of me in all the ways I needed.  She was the best, and if she wanted this barbeque then that’s what she got.  Even if all I wanted to do was curl up and take a nap.

“Kate says this round worked.” Trent’s voice startled me, making me jerk, but I found a smile for my friend.  He’d been there, helping us both out, since my diagnosis.  I was lucky to have him, I knew it.  But I was also glad I’d never made my move when I was healthy.  He’d have been stuck with a sick boyfriend, and that just wasn’t fair.  At least now I got the pleasure of his company, and when he helped out, I knew it was because he wanted to instead of because he felt he had to.

“Cam?”

I glanced up at him with a sheepish smile.  He grinned back and perched on the arm of the chair.  He radiated heat, and I couldn’t help but cuddle in.  “Yeah, we’ll see.”

“You don’t sound hopeful,” Trent said, his voice ever so slightly disapproving.

I sighed, and then snuggled in a little more.  “They said it worked last time and I had to have another round so…”

“Yeah, I hear ya,” Trent agreed.  One big hand started rubbing up and down my arm.  “You look better than you did last week though.”

I smiled for him.  “Yeah, I feel better.  Not great, mind you.  Not yet.  But a little better.”

“Good,” Trent said.  Then he cupped my chin in one hand, tipped my face up, and kissed me.

For a second I was so surprised, I didn’t even react.  Trent’s patient exploration didn’t cease though, and a moment later, I made a hungry noise and pushed into the kiss.  He felt so warm, so alive, his lips soft and coaxing, his tongue a wet, hot heat filling my mouth.  I reveled in it, whining just a little as I tried to get closer.  And then I realized I was kissing Trent, and I pulled back with a gasp.

“What?” The kiss was unexpected, but I was definitely all for it.

Trent’s smile was serene, and he was stroking his thumb along my cheek.  His eyes were filled with affection and something more that I didn’t dare put a name too. I wanted it, but I was scared to believe it.

“I’m tired of waiting for you to get better.  I should have done this a year ago, before you got sick.”

Oh, that was a harsh reminder.  I pulled back a little further, but Trent wouldn’t let me go.  I scowled at him.  “T, you can’t—” I made a frustrated sound.  “I’m sick and I might not get better.  I might have months, maybe a year more.  If this didn’t work, then there’s a time limit on—”

He cut me off with another quick kiss.

“Days, months, years–and I’m hoping for a whole shit ton of years–whatever time you have left, I want to be with you.”

For a long moment, I didn’t say anything at all.  I felt like I should be noble, to push him away and save us both from heartbreak.  But he was so warm and alive.  Someday my dick would work again, and I’d be able to enjoy that a hell of a lot more with Trent than by myself.  But even more than that, his smile eased my soul.  It always had.  It was selfish to say yes, to tie him to me that much.  But I’d wanted him for a long time, and he was now telling me he wanted me too.  Sickness and all.

“Yeah,” I said softly and something settled in my soul.  “Okay.  Yes, please.”

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Relaxed…Mostly

So I took a few days off from the evil day job, and I went away for a couple of days, and it was lovely and relaxing and just wonderful.  There’s something fantastic about being on your own, without an agenda to follow.  I got a little lazier than I intended, but a swift kick got me moving again and I had some great experiences and saw some great things.

And now I’m back.  A little more relaxed.  A little more recharged.  I needed it pretty badly, and it didn’t last nearly long enough of course, but it’ll do me for now.  With some of the stress lifted from my shoulders, I feel more grounded.  And that’s a very good thing.

I also got an insanely good plot bunny, with pictures, that I’ll be filing away for a bit.  But I’m looking forward to pulling that out in the future and writing it.

A relaxed writer is a happy writer.  And hopefully now I can begin to make headway.

And just a quick reminder!  This Sunday, Something Like Trust releases!

Flash Fic Friday

Flash Fic Friday

**Another prompt to which the Admiral and I both wrote.  Check his out here.  And read two stories about a summer movie in the park and geeks.  Enjoy!**

“We’re almost there, Nate.”

I chanced a glance sideways.  “Almost where?” I asked, knowing it would never work.  The look on Kyle’s face let me know he was disappointed I even tried.

I was bored out of my skull, and he still wouldn’t tell me where we were going.  No matter how hard I pouted or what sexual favors I offered.  He just kept driving, a smug little grin on his face.  If I didn’t trust him so much, and love him so hard, I would have been truly worried.  But I did, so I honestly had no qualms about riding for two hours to some unknown destination. That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to pout about it though.

A few more minutes passed, and then Kyle pointed out the window.  “Here we go.”

I turned to look, then sat up straight, my eyes nearly bugging out of my head.  The banner proudly proclaimed “Star Trek in the Park.”

“What?  How? What?” I sputtered.

Kyle laughed.  “I’ve been worried for weeks you were going to find out about this and beg to go, and that would ruin my surprised.”  He pulled into the parking lot.  It was mostly full, but he managed to find a space way in the back where he could park his little coupe.  “Double feature once it gets dark enough. Star Trek: The Motion Picture and then the reboot Star Trek with an intermission in between.”

“I love you,” I breathed, leaning into him and kissing him hard.  This was the coolest thing ever.  What was even better was that Kyle wasn’t into the show.  He didn’t have the love of it that I did.  But he loved me, so he watched.

We got out of the car, and Kyle retrieved a blanket and a small cooler out of the trunk.  It looked like we were set.  I couldn’t stop grinning. It didn’t even falter as I took in all the people streaming into the park from the lot.  A lot of them were dressed in costume to a degree.  I could have easily done the same.  If I had known, that is.  I tamped down the niggling of resentment that tried to work its way into my brain.

“Hey,” Kyle said, drawing my attention to where he was fiddling with something in the trunk.  When I turned, he gave me a wicked grin, then held up a piece of fabric.  It took me a second to recognize it as one of my t-shirts.  The one designed to look like the science uniform worn on The Enterprise.

I threw myself into his arms.  He’d thought of everything.  I’d bet money that my favorite snacks were packed in the cooler.  I kissed him again, very thoroughly, before I stripped off the shirt I was wearing and replacing it with the one that proudly proclaimed my geekiness.

Kyle waited until I was ready, helped smooth my hair back into place, and then took my hand. “Let’s go. Marvin and Lee got here hours ago, and they said they’d save us a spot.  He even promised it wouldn’t be too out in the open.”

I laughed, pleased down to my toes. “So we can snuggle?”

“Or something,” Kyle said with a suggestive eyebrow waggle.  I laughed again, and bumped his shoulder with mine.

We spotted Marvin easily enough, even with all the people.  Mostly because he was literally jumping up and down and waving his arms above his head.  He looked ridiculous, but I adored him for it. Just before we got to the place where they were waiting, I tugged on Kyle’s hand.  When he stopped, and looked at me with a question in his eyes, I just smiled.

“Thank you for this.  It’s awesome.”

“I love you,” he said with an easy shrug.

I kissed him and then we started walking again.  Nothing more needed to be said.

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Let’s Panic, Shall We?

Since the beginning of this year, I’ve been working out a rough outline from which to work for everything I’ve written.  Though it’s prone to change and is by no means super detailed, it gives me a chance to work out plot holes before hand and to have something to guide me while I write.  It’s been working incredibly well, to have a little guidance, and during two novellas and a short story, I’ve come to rely on it.

So yesterday morning when I went to open the outline for the next story and couldn’t find it anywhere, you can imagine that I freaked out a little.

Okay.  A lot.

I’d put in the work, I’d replotted the dang story three different times, and that one was the right one, finally, the story that was supposed to be written.  And even though I wrote it a few weeks ago (okay, a month), I hadn’t opened it again because between work and my own brain, I wasn’t ready to start it.  And then I was and the document was not there.

Or anywhere.  I scoured my entire hard drive.  I looked everywhere.  I handed the laptop to someone much more tech savvy than me, to see if he could find it.  And it wasn’t anywhere.  It was just gone.  Like I never saved it in the first place.  Which is the only explanation I have even though I’m an obsessive saver…to the point where I do it every few minutes sometimes, and back up my back ups.  I save to the hard drive, two different flash drives, and also the cloud. But this document I needed, my outline, no longer existed.

So I had to start from scratch and write it all over again.

Which sent me into a panicking tailspin.  I was utterly certain I wasn’t going to remember something important that I wanted to write, and it was going to be less of a story because of it.  I had another doc where’d I’d written down a few snippets from scenes that I had seen in my head over the last few weeks, so that gave me a little bit to work with.  And then, miracle of miracles, I found a hand written version of the very basic plot details.  I breathed a sigh of relief.  It wasn’t everything, and my hand writing was bad enough that I could not read all the words, but I had the very general plot, and the main plot points, and I could recreate my outline from there.

Which I did.

And saved it to every damn thing.

We’re good now. Panic has passed.  I definitely have my outline.  And I’m once again excited to write this book.