Just recently I started work on Book Two in my Montgomery’s Sin series. I took time, made a plan (so unlike me) sat down to write and for the first time since I started writing I struggled to put words down. They normally flow unheeded, but I had to drag each and every one of them screaming from my brain to my fingers and onto the computer screen. Those characters of mine hid, reluctant to play, in mists just beyond my reach.

After a couple of weeks and barely any progress by my normal standards, just 15,000 words, I received Barbara’s Redemption from my editor. While I would normally edit one book and write another at the same time, splitting my day between them, I didn’t. I abandoned my Montgomery’s Sin book and turned my back on that damnable Vampire and the even less cooperative Archangel.

The edits are now complete for Barbara’s Redemption, I just need a final pass over to make sure I’ve grabbed any errors before I wing it back to my editor. So, I trawled my files looking for a book I wanted to write, checked out some of my ideas, stared for long moments at Book Two. Then I opened the file and read it.


I really liked it. No, I mean really. Every single word I’d hauled out painted a picture far more vivid in my head of the characters I believed were playing with me. There they are, right in front of me in full technicolor.

So pardon me if I’m not too communicative right now, but I have a story to write.