I have a little over 1 month left to work at my paying day job. My last day is April 30 and to tell the truth, it can’t come soon enough. Don’t get me wrong: it’s a good job with some wonderful people, and I will really miss them and my patients. But I need – NEED – to get on with the next phase of my life before I go bonkers.
Now that my proverbial writing genie has been release from the bottle I am antsy. I have three more novels currently being written, 2 more planned out and ready to be written, three more and different novel outlines ready to go, an anthology piece I need to finish, plus my second and third books will be released this year. Whew!
I am so thrilled to be this busy if it has anything to do with my writing. I remind myself often that I need to sit back and relax a little and not stress too much about all the deadlines I have. Some are self imposed, others are external. But regardless, I know I need to take a breath and just enjoy the moment before me.
But something internally keeps pushing me to move, move now, and move fast to get all these projects done. I know I’m not dying so I’m not on a time line that way. It’s probably that I’ve been waiting so long for the opportunity to just write and not have to work at a job I don’t want, that I’m full of excess energy and want to get on with it. Right now.
When my daughter was younger, my husband taught her the theory of delayed gratification. She wanted to buy an American Girl doll but needed a few more dollars to do it. I just wanted to give them to her and have her buy the doll, but my husband felt we weren’t teaching her to value the doll as much if we did that. So, instead he devised a system for her to learn her times tables. She had to complete each number 1-12 ( You know: 12 x 3=?) in a certain time frame that he chose. When she could do that, she would “earn” the rest of the money. She thought it was a great idea because at the end she would have her doll. What she didn’t realize was first she had to learn all the times tables, then practice them so she knew them without thinking, and then she had to write them in the time frame my hubby devised. Only when she did all this would she get the money.
Needless to say, that doll didn’t arrive in our house for a while.
But it did teach my daughter about working for what she wanted and delaying the gratification of the prize until you completed your tasks. And it was a well taught, good lesson.
I need to start thinking that way too when it comes to all my writing and my writing deadlines. Once I am not leaving the house each morning at 6:02 a.m. to get to work, I will have more time than I’ve ever had before to sit down and lay my fingers on the laptop. Five days per week, roughly 8 hours every day, and when I can on weekends. I’ve never had that much free, uninterrupted time before. I just need to remember that.
Okay, so here’s me taking a breath…letting it out…and realizing that I’m writing right at this moment!!
I guess the joke – as usual -is on me!
SKATER’S WALTZ available now in print and ebook:
amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Skaters-Waltz-Peggy-Jaeger/dp/1628308079/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1423442958&sr=8-1
The WIld Rose Press: http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=index&manufacturers_id=1235
Barnes & Noble Nook; http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/skaters-waltz-peggy-jaeger/1121186583?ean=2940150216006
I-books: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/skaters-waltz/id965678244?mt=11
She’s won Olympic gold but can she win his heart?
Figure skater Tiffany Lennox is busy with rehearsals for an upcoming ice show when the only man she’s ever loved comes home after a two-year overseas stint. She needs him to see her for the woman she’s become and not the child he knew to ensure he stays home, this time, for good. With her.
For all his wanderlust and hunger for professional success, Cole Greer comes home wanting nothing more than to rest, relax and recover. He is delighted in being Tiffany’s hero and has a special place in his heart reserved for her. But faced with the oh-so-desirable woman she’s become, he starts questioning his determination to keep their relationship platonic.
When forced by the television network to go back on assignment, Cole – for the first time in his life – is torn between his career and his heart.
Skater’s Waltz Excerpt:
One delicate auburn eyebrow rose almost to her hairline. “Cocky self assurance has always been one of your greatest assets,” she commented dryly.
Cole laughed again and pulled her down into a headlock.
“Snot nosed princess,” he said, knuckle-rubbing her head.
He’d been wrestling with her since she was a child. He’d taught her every subtle move to get the high ground, and in that moment she used the knowledge to her advantage. In one slick move, her arm came out across his neck, forcing his hold to loosen. When it did, she pulled her hand back and pushed forward, expertly flipping him in the seat.
To recover his balance, Cole leaned back into the couch, grabbed what he hoped were her upper arms, and shoved. In a heartbeat, she was lying backward along the length of the couch with him spread out on top of her.
Both were laughing and wriggling, each trying to get the upper hand.
Tiffany squealed, trying to twist her hips out from beneath him. “Let me go!”
“Not a chance. I know how your devious little mind works, and I taught you how to do this. The minute I loosen up, you’ll hip check me over the back of the couch. No, thanks.”
Tiffany burst out laughing. “You rat. That was exactly what I was going to do.”
“You know retreat and surrender are inevitable, Tiff. I outweigh you, and I’ve got the distinct advantage of your injury in my favor. Give?”
“Okay, you win.” She went limp beneath him.
The corners of his eyes narrowed as he smiled down at her. “You must be maturing,” he said. “You never used to give up so easily.”
When he removed one hand from her arm, she reached up to trace the outline of one of his eyes. Her finger moved from the outer canthus to his cheek, smoothing the skin she touched. “You didn’t have these little lines when you left.”
Cole stared down at her face.
Her finger roamed down to the corners of his mouth, outlining them, then on to the small dent in the middle of his chin. An impish grin fanned across her face. “I remember being little and wondering if I smoothed this line away would I be able to see inside you, like it was a door or some kind of opening to your insides. Dumb, huh?”
“Sweet,” he said, softly. “Little girl sweet. Never dumb.”
Her eyes traveled up to his and locked there.
“When I got older I wondered what it would be like to kiss it.”
His breath hitched.
“Would it taste like soap, left over from shaving, or would it be all spiky and nubby because you missed a few hairs. Or would it taste uniquely like you do. I still wonder about that.”
“Tiffany.”
Knowing what he was about to do, and to whom, should have sent him jumping off the couch, running in the other direction. Instead, when his head came down to hers all Cole could think about was how much he wanted to taste her again, how he wanted to lose himself in her, and how both those feelings somehow seemed right, even though he knew they shouldn’t.
Her body tensed as he inched closer. When his lips finally captured hers, she turned fluid under his hands.
Her smooth, small body slackened beneath him as his lips gently moved across hers, tasting them, savoring them. Releasing his grip on her arms, he leaned on his elbows and ran his fingers into her hair, cupping her face while holding fistfuls of the glorious mane.
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