Page 8 of Bookgasms
My hands come up to swat at my husband when he tries to kiss me. “Absolutely not, Vic. I’m on a roll. Sage and Lyra are about to get it on. You’ll have to wait a few minutes.”
I hear him chuckle, but I ignore him as he leaves me alone.
He knows better than to bother me when I’m writing. It never ends well for either of us.
Diving back into the scene, I lose myself to my characters.
When I sit back, a smile splits my face. It really is almost done. Just a few more chapters, and I’ll be able to write the end on this one.
Trust me when I tell you there’s nothing more satisfying than writing those two words for an author.
A glance at the time has me wincing. It’s been over an hour since I sent Victor away.
Oops.
After turning off the music, I push to my feet, stretching my arms over my head before padding out of the office.
My stomach rumbles as the scents of food cooking hit my nose, and I have to stop to think if I’ve eaten anything today.
The answer is no—not overly surprising, but not good.
“I’m so sorry, Victor,” I tell him as I sidle into the kitchen, moving to stand behind him so I can wrap my arms around him. I lay my head on his back, feeling it when he chuckles. He’s only a few inches taller than my six-foot frame, but he always makes me feel small with how much bigger he is than I am. I’m built a lot slenderer than he is and work hard for the toned definition on my body.
“You never have to apologize for getting lost in your work, Jason. You know that. It was clear you were on a roll. I take it that means everything was going well?”
I nod against his back, sighing before pulling away and hopping onto the island counter so I can watch him work. I pull my long, wavy blond hair from the messy bun and run my fingers through it before pulling it into what I hope is a slightly neater version. “It is. I think there’s only about another ten thousand words before I get to the end, and it’s going to have my readers screaming at me.”
“Another massive cliffhanger?” he asks, glancing at me over his shoulder.
“Of course. As if I write anything else.” We laugh together. They really are my specialty, and I have readers who love them and who hate them. I’ll never stop writing them because no matter how much they may hate them, it’s what keeps readers coming back.
I’m not exactly a big name—it’s hard to be when I’m an indie author who writes in a very niche subgenre. While the readership for polyamorous books is increasing daily, it’snothing compared to the mainstream romance crowd. Not that I ever plan to change what I write.
No, they say write what you know, and this is what I know.
The paranormal and fantasy part? Not really a life I live, but I like to think I bring a little more authenticity to my writing since I live a polyamorous lifestyle.
While I might not be as popular as some of the big-name romance authors who write a man and a woman together, I’m massive in my niche.
When I wrote my first book during my senior year of college, I never would’ve guessed that I would come this far in fifteen years. But J.B. Briggs is synonymous with polyamorous romance.
Not to toot my own horn, but I’m a little famous.
I clear my throat, focusing my attention back on my husband. “How was your day, big guy?”
He shrugs. “Mostly uneventful. I finished up the job this afternoon, then headed in to record a session. Although, I did get a text from Dani.”
That has me perking up, although I try to play it cool. “Oh?”
“Yup.”
I wrinkle my nose when he doesn’t offer me any further details. He wants me to ask about it, but I don’t want to seem too eager.
Although it’s not like he doesn’t already know how much I love Dani. Or how jealous I am that he’s slept with her and I haven’t.
“You’re really going to make me ask?” I roll my eyes, eyes narrowing as his shoulders shake.
Yeah, he’s enjoying himself way too much for my liking. He’s lucky I love him.
