Hello June

As I write this, it's the last day of May, and I'm looking at June on tomorrow's page of the calendar. That means a fresh start, right? New writing goals, a new to-do list. And yet a lot of the same things that exist month to month, the same weekly chores, the day-job... That can be good and bad, the routine, but routine can also feel like a rut or hamster wheel after a while. The last year or so, it's felt like rut or hamster wheel here for me, depending on the month.

So while I'm finalizing these June writing goals, I'm thinking about what I can shake up to get out of the rut, off the hamster wheel. I need to do something a bit different, I think, to get things moving in the right direction again, rather than plodding along on the same path. As much as I want to get these short contemporary stories and tiger shifters finished and ready to go out into the world, I think I'm going to take the month away from them to work on something else for a few weeks so I can go back to them with fresh eyes. (Don't worry, Misty, I'll still send you the first of the short contemporaries, haha.)

Before I get back to tweaking these June goals, I have a snippet for you from Freeing Medusa this week.

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            Hunter hated not having some kind of plan. He always had a plan. Or he used to always have a plan. Until Katharine came into his life.

            “Just go,” Ryder had said.

            So they sat on the beach the next day, blending with thousands of vacationers as if they weren’t on the run from would-be murderers. He wasn’t thrilled about sitting out in the open this way, but it seemed the Harvesters wouldn’t expect it, even if they somehow stumbled on them.

            Kat lay on her stomach, long legs crossed at the ankle as she faced the water, transfixed.

            That was the only good thing he could see about this–her naked delight at being at the beach. Knowing she’d denied herself this pleasure for five long years to stay safe made him sad.

            It also made him angry. How could anyone subject another human being to that–to reduce them to prey? Like animals, so every decision made was for their safety and survival, never for pleasure.

            As if his tension had reached out to touch her, Kat turned to glance at him over her shoulder, her smile fading. “Thank you.”

            He forced himself to smile at her, to mentally shrug off his annoyance. “No one should have to give up something that makes them happy.”

            Her eyes turned somber at his words, and she rolled onto her side to look fully at him, making him wish she’d bought the orange bikini he’d pointed out when they went shopping earlier. Instead, she wore a purple, one-piece bathing suit that covered her from the top of her shorts to a reasonably modest spot on her chest. And over it, an unbuttoned denim shirt, to hide her tattoo.

            Just in case.

            That annoyed him all over.

            Katharine let out a slow breath. “Sometimes things are important. Staying alive is important. The beach, not nearly so.”

            Hunter leaned nearer to brush back a wisp of hair from her temple, weighing her words. “Staying alive is important, but not much fun if you sacrifice all the things you love.” He realized half a second too late what had just come out of his mouth.

            Her gaze flickered away for a second, and she forced a smile. “Well, I’m here now. Who knows when that might happen again?” She rolled onto her belly and reached for her sunglasses, hiding her eyes.

            He dropped his hand to the blanket, heart hammering in his ears. He’d said a little too much, and she knew it. Damn. He took a steadying breath and released it. She’d let it go, which was good. For now.

            But he’d bring it up another day. Hopefully when they weren’t hiding out.

            Which made him aware again that they were hiding out from killers. He needed to be alert, but not too alert and draw unwanted attention to them. Fuck, he was out of practice. Surveilling guys trying to screw their insurance companies or cheating spouses didn’t require the same level of attention he’d needed on the force.

            He blew out a slow breath and set one hand on the back of Kat’s calf, feeling her start. “Should’ve gotten you a bucket and shovel, too, to build a sand castle,” he said gruffly.

            A reluctant smile curved her mouth when she looked over her shoulder at him. “I’d only use the bucket to collect seashells.”

            “We can do that, too.”

            She shook her head. “Too many people now. It’s best right after the tide goes out, like in the mornings.”

            He smiled. “We can do that, too,” he repeated.

            She laughed. “Maybe.” She turned to face the water once more, but with less tension in her muscles.

            Hunter felt a bit better. He let his gaze slide over the families and other couples and groups of kids around them on the beach. No one who stood out, who looked as if they shouldn’t be there. Nothing to make the hair on the back of his neck stand up as it had the other day in the park. Still, he needed to stay on guard. He lifted his own sunglasses from beside him on the towel and put them on. Dark enough to hide his eyes, so no one knew he wasn’t simply enjoying the beach but watching. Searching for potential danger.

            Keeping Katharine safe. His new job.

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What do you do when you feel like you need to get out of a rut? Do you have a standard you swear by, or do you just wing it? I'd love to hear about it!

Until next week, happy reading!