Face Off

Histories, quirks, scars, desires and needs. The men of Twisted Intent have all of these. They’ve had them for weeks and weeks. Until yesterday, however, the boys had no faces.

That’s right. Hair, eyes, jawline, cheekbones, lips and brows had been ignored entirely by this veteran romance writer.

Appalled at this revelation, I got myself to a thesaurus and lashed myself to all manner of synonyms.

Now that appropriate noses have been found, we can all breathe again.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Lisp

Evading a spiteful spit of tornadoes in the wee hours of the morning is conducive to little except dodgy sanity…

*pauses, reviews the mouthful of wordy words just spat and reconsiders*

Dodgy sanity and thesaurus lisp, I should say.

Neither one of us need suffer through this, I believe.

Good day.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

The Dogs Have It... Obviously.

It’s one of those mornings when the best I can do when met with a blank screen and the pushy blink-blink-blink of a cursor is…

Huh?

Honestly, that’s it.

All words beyond a single syllable have fled like royally peeved rats off a burning barge.

Creativity is null and void, declined by the haughty sales-clerk and cut up into little strips of burning shame.

Really.

Actually, everything other than the “Huh?” today is courtesy of my dog.

My muse.

A four-legged thesaurus with no thumbs but a set of incredibly flexible furry toes.

Who needs a treat.

Right now.

RIGHT NOW!

Until tomorrow…

Dog and Chloe