I woke this morning to crisp, chilly air and a stiff, downright cold breeze. We shivered, we complained and we realized summer really was gone. OK, so I live in Miami and it dipped into the 60s last night. Even though it is still expected to reach 80 later today it still struck home; summer is over. Yeah, yeah, I know. I probably have limited sympathy from almost everyone out there but when you've been experiencing record temperatures in the 90s for so long, it takes a body awhile to adjust.
I have hopes it will be ideal writing weather because I've hit a flat spot in my book that I need to fix. There's too much sex for one. I may have gotten just a little carried away. Or my characters did. I need to back it up some so that they can learn a little bit more about each other first, but my hero wants to get down and dirty right away. It works for him but I think I need to keep some tension going until a little later in the book. The problem is when it's cold, I think of bed, and when I think of bed... Oh, well, hoping for a productive week where I can do some rearranging to keep the tension building and the conflict ongoing through to my HEA.
Irony — The Final Cliché
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