I'm having one of those writing days where I know what I need to do, where my story needs to go and the time to take it there.
Rick, my dark blond haired, six foot tall with dark blue eyes that slip easily past a woman's defenses, hero has been whispering in my ear all morning. All of his deep dark secrets are rolling off his oh so tempting tongue, filling my head and the pages of his story.
Did I also mention that he's a shape shifter? ~sigh~
Woo Hoo...right?
Well it should be, except another hero has decided to take up residence in the background of my mind.
Russian born with nearly black eyes and a buzz cut so short it tickles your hand as you try to grab on. His shoulders are wide, his stomach ripped and naked beneath the full length fur coat he wears. Yes, real fur. His own fur.
Werewolf...
He has yet to tell me his name, but it's clear he wants his story told. Do I dare tell him to wait patiently in line or will that directive get me eaten?
Would that be so bad I wonder?
Wish me luck.....
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