Though it was nice to go on vacation, the lack of internet really threw me. It appears that some people in Europe think that having internet flowing through the guest rooms is unhealthy. So while I was skiing and visiting my husband and friends, my muse decided to take a semi-vacation as well. But the minute I arrived back home, she started jumping all over the place.
I am a liner writer. I don’t like to write scenes out of order. I also research as I go along. So while I’m researching Innsbruck, Austria and the best route for my H/H to get to Nancy, France. My muse skipped a head to Nancy and insisted I write a scene that happens there. This caused some consternation on my part and digging in of the heels on the part of my muse.
So now I’ve written my hero’s black moment, (yes, I gave in) but I have no idea what he did to make everyone so angry with him. Things are going so well in Innsbruck. Oh, and somewhere along the line, his groom got married.
What do you do when your muse starts acting up?
Here is an excerpt. Huntley’s aunt, Horatia, has decided to take a hand in his romantic problems.
Shaking her head, Risher went to the wardrobe and took out one of the dressing gowns. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Horatia smiled wryly. “So do I.”
Several minutes later, she heard a door down the hall open and close again. Booted feet ran down the stairs and the muted sounds of people getting out of the way drifted up. Risher glanced at her and Horatia nodded. “It won’t be long now.” Taking a seat at her dressing table, she waited.
Horatia turned at the loud and insistent banging on her parlor door. She raised a brow at Risher and tried to keep her lips from twitching.
“Where is my wife?” Huntley roared.
Good Lord, he sounded just like his grandfather. “You may as well come in. I have no intention of holding a conversation with you through the door.”
The door slammed open and bounced against the wall. He stood in the door. Anger and concern warred in his darkened face. “Where is Caro? I searched all over the inn. She wouldn’t go anywhere without telling you.”
She raised a brow. “Caro has left.”
His jaw clenched. “When?”
Horatia glanced away from him and back into the mirror, signaling Risher to continue dressing her hair. “A few moments ago.”
He groaned and the sound of his boots echoed in the hall. “Well, maybe he’ll finally realize what he needs to do.”
“I certainly hope so, my lady,” Risher agreed. “I would like to see them settled before we leave for Paris.”