There is so much I want to say about my writing, about not getting the trilogy out in a timely basis and about what my next steps as an author could be. I’m at an impasse. There are two paths (with my books) that I can see and I don’t know which to take. (And no, not writing and not publishing are not on the table.)
From Protector of the Grey House:
“It has to be.” She sighed with pleasure as she melted against him. She had a raging headache, and her stomach was upset. She felt as if her brain had been fried. It was hard to keep control of Anthony; even harder to look as if everything were fine. She had failed, as he saw her pain, but it didn’t matter. The situation was taken care of. Other than releasing him completely, she could do nothing more to change his mind. He would have to decide whether or not he wanted to trust her on his own. She moaned as Vincent applied more pressure to her aching shoulders.
Vincent nibbled on her neck. He wanted to take her blood, but knew he shouldn’t. She felt good in his arms, felt like she belonged. He turned her head to his, kissed her, and gave her a long, deep kiss. One hand massaged her neck, the other massaged her thigh. Though they were expected in the training room, he nevertheless continued his slow seduction, and wondered if she were up for a quickie. Except they almost never did anything quickly. Even if they started quick, want would take over and they would continue long past satisfaction. He pulled away from her, and growled low.