Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 93400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
He chuckled. “Whatever you’re doing, keep it up. The publisher is going to love this. And the love story you’re weaving in is perfect. I like the slow burn of it all.”
Greer instantly popped into my mind. “The fresh air here has been good for me.”
“How much more do you think you’ve got to write?”
I looked down at my word count. “I’m over sixty thousand.”
“Jesus, have you been writing day and night?”
“I spent all day writing yesterday, and then toyed around with a few things here in the cabin. Then, a neighbor lady who knows the owners of the cabin stopped by for a bit. After she left, I wrote until about one in the morning. Got up around six and have been writing since. I’ve got plans for the rest of the day, so I’m going to stop for now.”
“Good, good, give your brain some time off. Too much marathon writing and you’ll get tired and lose focus.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Russ, I do believe that is the first time you’ve ever told me not to write.”
“Wait a minute, I didn’t say don’t write. I simply said don’t let this burst of inspiration burn you out. Remember, it’s a marathon, not a sprint.”
I glanced at the clock and saw that I had an hour left before I needed to pick up Greer. “Trust me, it’s not simply a burst of inspiration.”
“That’s what I want to hear. I look forward to reading the whole manuscript when you get it finished. Just remember, the deadline is in a month.”
I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. “How could I forget when you remind me every day?”
“That’s my job. Talk soon, Hudson.”
I rolled my eyes. “Right. Talk soon.”
He ended the call before I could even move the phone from my ear. I took one last look at the manuscript, saved it in the three different places I liked to save all my work, and then closed the draft.
I opened up another Word doc and started to write down some thoughts I’d had the other night while on the rooftop of Greer’s place. I’d never written a romantic comedy, but for some reason, a story line came to me on the way home. I even dreamt about it last night. I had to push it out of my head so that I could focus on the book I was writing, but now that I had met my word count on Amnesia, I started to type my ideas for the rom-com.
After ten minutes of putting my thoughts and ideas down, I stood and started to head upstairs to jump in the shower before going to get Greer. A knock on the front door caused me to pause. Then, I dropped my head back and let out a moan.
I already knew who it was. Jean. She had stopped by last night and invited herself in with a bottle of wine and a cheese and fruit tray. I had been polite to her, but declined the wine with the excuse that I had a lot of writing to get in since I was planning on spending the next day with Greer. It hadn’t been lost on me how Jean had frowned at the mention of Greer’s name. I had hoped that subtle hint would tell her I wasn’t the least bit interested in her. But clearly it didn’t work.
Another knock.
A part of me wanted to ignore it. She knew I had plans with Greer, and I wasn’t in the mood to play games with this woman. Still, better to get it over with. Drawing a deep breath in, I walked to the door and opened it.
Jean stood there with a wide smile on her face and a basket in her arms. “Good morning! How did your writing go last night?”
She attempted to walk into the cabin but I stayed put, blocking her way. “It was good, thank you.”
“Great! I brought you some lunch; I thought you might want something fresh to eat instead of leftovers.”
I gave her a confused look and tilted my head. “I’m sorry, Jean, I thought I told you I had plans today.”
“You did?” she asked with a fake-as-hell surprised expression. “I must have missed that.”
“No, I’m pretty sure I told you I made plans to spend the day with Greer on her birthday.”
Jean scrunched up her nose. “Greer? Really?”
“What do you mean by that?”
She gave a half shrug. “Nothing—she just doesn’t seem your type.”
I pulled my brows in tight. “And you think you know my type?”
“You seem like a man who needs a woman who knows how to handle herself, in and out of the bedroom.”
Okay. Wow. It was time to nip this shit in the bud. “Jean, I’m going to be perfectly honest with you. I enjoy Greer’s company. She’s a friend and someone I want to be around. I’m not looking for a woman who knows her way around a bedroom. I’m looking to finish a book and spend some time with someone I have a lot in common with.”