To anyone I might have frightened with my post yesterday, I must apologize.
What about those who you annoyed? Or worse, those you’re annoying with this post?
*slowly turns to face my unexpected and dare I admit uninvited guest* Jack? Second Lieutenant Jack Walker, what are you doing here?
I’ve come to find out why you abandoned me in the wilds of Indian Territory where I’m sneaking out of the barracks to go visit the Cherokee camp while my wife has a high fever lying lifeless in our bed.
And the problem is…?
*his stare would suggest I’m a complete idiot* I’m risking my life by sneaking around an Indian camp at night and my wife is lying in bed, dying and you’re listening to chapter five of Her Reluctant Groom on audio and even worse, answering comments left on that ridiculous interview you had with that dimwit Lord Belgrave. *shakes head* In the scheme of things, a name change and who has a “tendre” for who, whatever that is, is complete nonsense. If the man is giving you trouble, forget his story and work only on mine.
Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you?
Of course I would. Other than writing just enough words that put me leaving the barracks to go wandering around after dark in search of something to cure my wife, you haven’t written anything on my book for three days, either, lest I remind you for your conveniently scheduled hair appointment yesterday.
And just why is it that only the heroes and heroines of my books can have nice hair and I can’t?
You can, too. Just schedule the appointments for the afternoon. The mornings are mine. Besides, it already looks horrific.
That’s because I just got up from sleeping on it all night.
*shrugs* I peeked in yesterday. It looked bad then, too.
Only because my husband insisted we go on a 15 mile bike ride as soon as I got home. Wearing a helmet in 90-degree weather for a little over an hour isn’t exactly a step in hairstyling.
Either way, it looked bad and you took time out of writing to ride a bicycle. Gracious, Ms. Gordon, get your priorities in order.
We’re training for a 150 mile bike ride.
And I’m trying to save my wife’s life. You must make priorities.
I do believe that’s a bit of the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you?
*face flushes* I’ve come a long way in the past 27,000 words, I’d say.
Yes, you have, but you still have more to overcome.
Why is it that those of your sex like to torture those of mine?
Because you deserve it. Should I remind you, and tell everyone here, why you deserve it?
Then go away.
Fine. Stay. As you said, this is the morning and the time of the day when I work on your book. I guess you’ll just have to continue to wander the wilds until you leave me be. I hope you don’t cause greater harm to Ella by doing so.
That’s what I still want to talk to you about. Ella and Eliza? That goes too far. Do you just have no imagination?
Now, see here. I started writing about Eliza and Patrick…er…Sebastian before I finished Marcus and Emma’s story. Of course at the time, I thought Lord Drakely’s name would be Sebastian, but when I read a very popular book that had a Sebastian and Juliet pairing, I switched their names. *shrugs* Not that it matters overmuch. I think it worked out better that way, especially when it came time to name Jack–not you, Marcus and Emma’s adopted child–
See what I mean? No imagination. You are recycling names!
In all fairness to me, I did not know I’d be writing YOUR book when I named their child. Besides, a generation and an ocean apart, not a problem. As I was saying, however, I named Eliza Eliza before Ella even entered the picture. I only recently named Ella Ella after I realized I’d outlined another book with the name Kate as the heroine. I couldn’t have two (potential) Jacks and two Kates in my books, and since well, not to sound cheap, but to be frank, I’d just had more than 5,000 book plates printed up naming you as Jack (not to mention it’s been all over my website and in the back of my books), I couldn’t change your name, too. So I went with Ella. I didn’t even give a second thought to Eliza at the time since I was writing only one book.
Frankly, I’m surprised you haven’t written the wrong heroine’s name into the wrong book.
It’s a gift.
*narrows eyes* Change Eliza.
And why not Ella?
*grins* This isn’t a friends to lovers plot, you can keep the E name.
And who says this isn’t a friends to lovers plot?
We haven’t known each other all of our lives.
No, but answer me this? Are the two of you already lovers?
So then, you’re friends?
I hope so.
I bet you do. But tell me, if she was a mail-order bride, just why haven’t the two of you made that jump.
Stop it. The situation is bad enough without you making the details known on here.
As we agreed on earlier, you’ve made a lot of process in 27,000 words. *long pause* Perhaps in another 27,000 she’ll let you kiss her knuckles.
*face goes blank, then turns dark red–jaw clenched and a muscle ticking in his cheek* It had better not. I expect something else to be happening by then.
You, too? Gracious, do any of my heroes think of anything else?
*fourteen sets of footsteps storm the stairs, making the house shake as if a sudden thunderstorm had developed”
Wasn’t it noted not so long ago that Brooke seems to always be increasing?
Yes, and I’ve suggested a time or two that perhaps you should do something so you can still enjoy the activity, but not have so many offspring, the same way I do.
Gads, Alex, my son, must you ruin such a blissful activity for the man with all of your science talk?
“Science talk” as you’ve termed it, doesn’t deter me from seeking out Liberty any chance I get. In fact, every spring when I see a hedgehog sniffing– *words died and his face turned red, looking around the room*
Pray continue. I’m very interested in whatever scientific discovery Alex shared on the matter and I’m sure Madison will be, too.
I still cannot believe YOU have to recite science facts to get your wife to shut you up with a kiss. I’m sure that’s what has led to so many spawns. I, on the other hand, have to merely exist.
Oh, stuff it, Marcus, not everyone’s wife has loved him since they were children. Some of us have to woo her and make her forget she’d once called him Lord Presumptuous.
Um, well, my heroine claimed to be in love with me since we were children, but I still had to “woo” her, as you put it.
Perhaps that’s because you know nothing about how to treat the lady you love. *Wallace’s soft eyes surveyed the room of men with something in them akin to…compassion and perhaps triumph* Unlike most of you, I had a very satisfying wedding night and all I had to do was go into her bedchamber and kiss her.
Don’t look at me. I had a wedding night, too; followed by a very enjoyable return trip home from Scotland.
And I’m the luckiest of all, I got two wedding nights!
*buries head in hands* I’ve created monsters. Randy, lust-driven monsters.
Don’t include me in that. I haven’t said anything.
No, Wes, you haven’t. But I have no doubt that’s only because you don’t want me to grow angry with you embarrassing me by revealing your primal urges on my blog and having me delay the release of your book because of it.
How did you know?
Because I know you. *turns eyes to Jack and Sebastian* Do either of you have anything to say?
Yes, I’m not afraid of you. Finish my book, or I’ll come make a blog post about my ‘primal urges’ as you call them.
Sebastian, so gentlemanly of you to issue me a warning.
There won’t be another.
You have to the 40,000 word mark to make things happen, then I’ll be bringing about a heavy dose of writer’s block.
Excuse me? That’s not very far into the book.
Then make more than one scene. A dozen would be nice.
That will NOT be happening.
No, she’s saving that for MY book.
*masculine chuckles fill the room, followed by snippets of lines: “don’t count on it”, “only in your imagination”, “lucky bast–”*
That’s enough! Get out of here, the lot of you depraved lechers. Even you, Jack. Go.
What of me?
You haven’t forgotten me, have you?
You do realize you’ve had dozens of requests for my story, don’t you?
Yes. I know. I just need more time.
How about this fall? *offers a stiff, unsure smile* After I write Gray’s story?
I suppose. *narrows eyes* Just don’t forget.
Now that they’re all gone, I can resume–
Writing my book, correct?
Jack? I thought I commanded you out.
You did. But I’ll just hang back, over here by the window, to make sure you keep writing on my book and not “resume” listening about Lady Bird’s Ladybird Memoir, a book I wouldn’t mind seeing you write…
Out! Out! Out!
Fine, but not until you open the document that contains my book. Good girl.
*deep sigh* So much for my public apology…