Buckling Down

Some of you have your own creative ventures and probably understand that some people are perfectionists, while others feel like what they're doing is never good enough. Some procrastinate. Some are afraid to share what they've done with others. Some have a combination of any or all of the traits above or any number of others. If you've been here a while, you know I probably can admit to any or all of those depending on the day. Haha. It's worse when you combine those with real-life issues, like a demanding day-job (or starting a new job), or health issues, or family issues, or a myriad of other things that come up in people's day-to-day lives. I know some authors who have had multiple real-life issues tumble down on them all at once, though, and they've still forged a path through to write or meet deadlines. They give me something to work toward in my own life.

One of my goals right now is to finish my revisions on the first book in a short contemporary series that's been languishing on my hard drive for a long time. I started the series quite a long time ago, and when I had about half a dozen of them done, I met an editor at a conference and pitched the books. She was excited about the series and asked me to send her material. Then she went on maternity leave and never came back, and her replacement wasn't interested, so I let the books collect dust for years before I dug them out and let a reader friend take a look at them. This is where that perfectionistic tendency comes in. Haha. But I do intend (assuming I can keep those faults and doubts under control, lol) to release at least the first couple this year, now that the Medusa's Daughters Trilogy is complete, and along with revisions, that means getting with the cover designer to come up with a series logo and each cover, plus getting onto the schedule for the formatter...

But not today. Today is Mother's Day, and the boys are going to be here soon, and we'll have dinner and hang out this afternoon. So I have a little snippet for you this week from Protecting Medusa.

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            He should have known better.

            When he woke in the morning, he stretched, then put one hand out to find her.

            Gone. Sighing, he opened his eyes and looked around the room. Mena was gone. Of course.

            He sat up, and the blankets fell to his lap. Listening hard, he heard faint sounds from the kitchen, and he relaxed.

            He threw back the mound of blankets and grabbed his jeans, stepping into them before he gathered the rest of his clothing and padded down the steps, the wood cold beneath his bare feet.

            In the kitchen, Mena bent at the waist, peering into the refrigerator. She’d obviously showered, her inky hair still wet against her sweater, her wool skirt and boots hiding her long legs. She shot him a wary glance as she straightened and closed the fridge.

            “Good morning.” He dragged one hand over his head, aware he was rumpled from sleep.

            Her gaze slid from his hair to his bare chest to the unbuttoned waist of his jeans, and pink tinted her cheeks before she dragged her gaze back to his face. “I was going to make breakfast. Would you like something?”

            Yeah, you, back in bed, naked. “What were you going to have?” he asked instead. He had plenty of time, and Aggie would be here soon with Jason.

            “Eggs and toast. I think Mom has some bacon or sausage in the freezer, if you’d like.” She bit her lower lip, her green eyes wide and dark. His attention went to the tiny round mole at the right corner of her mouth. He wanted to lick it.

            He set his things down at the bottom of the stairs and took a step toward her.

            She flinched as if she’d retreat, then held her ground, eyes filled with caution and only the barest shadow of desire.

            He smiled, more to himself than at her. “Good morning, Mena.” One more step brought him within arm’s reach, but he waited.

            The pink in her cheeks deepened. “Good morning,” she whispered.

            He touched her chin. “Are you all right?”

            She blinked as her entire face reddened. “Yes.” She looked away.

            “Good.” He tipped her chin up and kissed her, hard.

            For a second, she stood there, frozen, and he thought she might pull away, but then her lips parted, and he relaxed, sliding his tongue along her lower lip, dipping into the warmth of her mouth. She’d brushed her teeth, tasted of mint. He changed the angle of the kiss, one of his hands catching her nape to slide his fingers into her damp hair.

            She set her hands on his shoulders, and a soft sigh met his tongue.

            He gentled the kiss, then lifted his head just slightly.

            Her eyes were shut and her mouth swollen. She was gorgeous.

            He kissed her again, lightly. And again.

            When he straightened this time, her fingers dug into his shoulders, and she swayed just a little. He steadied her, watching her eyes flutter open. Desire and wariness mingled there in opposite proportions now.

            “Eggs and toast are fine.”

            She blinked up at him, a tiny frown marring her forehead for a few seconds.

            “I’ll just grab a shower, and then we have work to do.” He didn’t want to, but he released her.

             “What kind of work?” She dropped her hands to her sides.

            “My buddy is on his way to boost the alarm system. I want him to do your place, too. Then you and I need to go away.”

            “What?” Annoyance chased the desire right out of her eyes. “I can’t go away. I have work to do. And I was just gone for three days.”

            “At your place. Not quite the same, and not far enough to get this Harvester away from our family.”

            She clearly wanted to argue with him, sparks snapping in her eyes, but she pressed her lips together instead.

            “We can talk about it over breakfast.” He picked up his things and went into the guest room. He shut the door, then grinned when something soft hit the door almost at the height of his head. Good thing she’d waited till the door shut and used something light. Her aim was pretty good.

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I promise after this afternoon, I'm back to revisions and other things on the writing to-do list. A planner I like comes with stickers, and one of them says 'Get over your BS already'. I stuck that on today's block, it seemed appropriate to the 'it isn't perfect' thoughts. Do you get hung up on things like this in your own projects? I'd love to hear what you do to get past the blocks.

Until next week, happy reading!