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But tomorrow is New Year's Eve, so there'll be one more celebration before I . BULLET is book 9 in the Lords of Carnage MC series, and can be read as a .. A warrior. She's the strongest woman I know. Before I knew it, she set my life As it turns out, learning to ride a pogo stick takes something else that I did not have.
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- Pedalpalooza calendar
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- Watch ‘The Warriors’ Recreate Their Last Subway Ride Home
- The Gurkhas: The Worlds Toughest Fighting Elite.
Tipping her head back, she slides her tongue into the shot glass and scoops the Jello into her mouth and down her throat. She chews a few times and swallows, then sticks out her tongue dramatically and coughs at the alcohol. Her tongue is dark blue. Then Kayla again. Inwardly, I cringe at the thought of her ralphing up blue puke all over my interiors. She gets up, though, and stumbles a little on her high heels so I have to steady her. Kayla lets out a little bleat of laughter. Everyone calls goodbye to us and we turn toward the front door of the bar, Kayla wobbling beside me on her heels.
She must think that look is sexy, because she does it to me a lot. Even though I bought the house over a year ago, a lot of my stuff is still in boxes. Shit hit the fan shortly after I moved out here. A nice one. Are you ashamed to be with me or something? I make it clear to every woman go to bed with. Kayla blinks a couple of times uncertainly, like she was expecting me to argue with her.
She opens her mouth to fire back at me, but pauses. Then finally:. She goes back inside to the restrooms that are by the front door.
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I wait for her, trying not to get pissed at the insults she hurled at me. Oh, I had been — for all of three weeks or so. The team had signed me for last season, and everything was all set.
I even moved here to Springville and bought my house. But then, all the fucking shit hit the fan, and… well, I ended up getting un -signed.
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And sitting out last season completely. I shake the thought from my head, for probably the millionth time. I need to move forward. All I can do is hope things keep going in the direction they are, and that the team will sign me for this season. My agent has told me as much. I know I can perform. I know I can make myself one of the most valuable players on the team, if they just give me a chance. Which means that any whiff of trouble makes the owners and managers gun shy. Kayla takes fucking forever in the bathroom.
I wait, then wait some more, and finally, she comes back out of the bar, smelling like re-applied perfume. But underneath the cherry red color, I can see the blue tinge on her lips from the Jello shots.
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I was anticipating another big argument when I dropped her at her place. Pussy like this is too much damn work. Even though I want to get out of there, I wait with her until the Uber arrives out of a sense of obligation. The whole time, she sits on a bench with her arms and legs crossed, pointedly ignoring me. A few minutes later, a Toyota sedan pulls up. I grimace and look apologetically at the guy. I wait as he rummages inside the car and pulls out a scrap of paper. I can hear Kayla bitching at him, but he ignores her.
He holds out the paper and a pen to me. I sign it on the roof of the car and then hand it back to him. I watch the Uber drive off, and take a deep breath of relief. Instead I decide to just go home and call it a night. The voice is female.
In the light of the street lamp, I can just make out the silhouette of a woman in a dress. From here, it looks like she has a killer ass. And legs to next Tuesday. I watch in amusement as she continues swearing a blue streak and starts pounding on the hood.
Watch ‘The Warriors’ Recreate Their Last Subway Ride Home
The corners of my mouth quirk up. Curiosity gets the better of me.
Instead of walking over to my SUV, I cross the parking lot and head toward the chick beating up on her car. I may as well spend the next few minutes playing hero to this chick. I was just talking to a new acquaintance at a dinner party a few weeks ago. No way! Fast forward to today. How have I done it?
The fact is, I certainly have learned a lot over the last few years about writing.
The Gurkhas: The Worlds Toughest Fighting Elite.
But every single time I start a new book, I still take a deep breath, look at the blank screen on my monitor, and will myself to believe that it will work out. And so far, it always has. A pantser is someone who does the opposite: just starts writing.
In a way, I guess I think about plotters vs. I start out every novel with a sense of who my main characters are. I know their names, what they look like, and what their childhoods were like. I know what their internal and external conflicts are, and how those conflicts are going to get in the way of their falling in love. I know that by the end of the novel, they will have surmounted those conflicts, and declared their undying devotion to each other. I might even have some ideas for a few funny, or sad, or tense scenes. But beyond that — the novel evolves the way it wants to evolve.
One of my favorite things about writing books is letting the relationships between the characters develop organically. When the characters show me the way — where they want to go, what they want to do — their relationship evolves more naturally.
I put my hands to the keyboard, and let the characters tell me who they are. And probably with Petunia sitting right where she is, too, taking up most of the space on my desk. This is my home office. It used to be a second bedroom, which is where my stepdaughters would sleep when they were over for the weekend. But now my stepdaughters are grown and living on their own. So right before I decided to go full-time as an author, Mr. Go make one you like. And I do like this space. No one goes in it but me, for the most part.
My daily commute is about ten seconds — from the front sun room where I hang out with Mr. Loveling until he has to go to work, to the back of the house, and my office. I know a lot of authors like to write in coffee shops, or at the library, or even just sitting on their couch with a laptop in their laps. I do occasionally work in a coffee shop like yesterday, actually. It turns out, I need the predictability of a set routine in order to write well. I like to write first thing in the morning. Sometimes I go out to the gym or for a run at lunchtime, then come back and write some more.
But the bulk of the writing I do happens in the morning — before I have to see or interact with anyone except for Mr. Loveling and the cats. That picture up at the top? I took it literally right before I started writing this post. Petunia is now sleeping in the same spot — stretched out all over my papers, of course. And start writing for the day. But when I see that sexy little number in over her head at the biker bar, I want to pummel the son of a bitch who threatens her.
Hell, I want to do so much more.