Page 40 of Words of Love

“It’s the first book in a new trilogy. I’m not telling you what it’s about.”

“Is that because you don’t know yet?”

His scowl deepened. “What makes you say that?”

“Writerswrite. They don’t shuffle cards and eat chips by the handful.”

“How the hell do you know what writers do?”

“In case you forgot, reportersarewriters.” She reached for her tea. “And the reason I’ve never missed a deadline, not even when I was working atThe New York Times, is because I sit down andwritethe story.”

“Writing a novel is a lot different than writing a news article,” Sam retorted.

“Maybe so, but at the end of the day, you have to get the words on the page, right? Eating and pacing like a caged tiger isn’t going to get the job done.”

With an impatient grumble, he tossed the chip bag onto the kitchen counter and stalked back to the living room. “I’ve never missed a deadline either. And no way in hell am I going to miss this one because of a storyline I didn’t want to write in the first place.”

She blinked. Was that the real reason he’d come to the cabin—because he was having trouble with his story?

She found the thought hard to believe. His books were fast-paced genre thrillers with an underlying structure so strong he could make the reader believe anything. His world-building was immersive, his plots intricate but not convoluted, and his characters lived and breathed. You didn’t read a Sam Harris novel—youexperiencedit.

Most of the time, anyway. Brooke hadn’t loved Sam’s recent books as much as she had the start of the John Kane series. Something was missing, but she hadn’t pinpointed what it was.

“What…” She approached cautiously, as if he might leap up and bite her. “What’s the storyline?”

Frustration tensed his every muscle as he flopped back down on the sofa. For an instant, she didn’t think he was going to answer. When he spoke, he seemed to be talking to himself rather than her. “The romance.”

“Er…what now?”

“Theromance.” He repeated the word as if it were a curse.

Brooke shook her head. “Between John and Patricia?”

“That’s the one.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “Word on the street…and from my editor and reviewers…is that the romance is badly written and underdeveloped. Which is ironic since I’d never intended to write a romance into any of my novels.”

“So why did you?”

“Pressure.” He twisted his mouth. “And popular demand. After the series started taking off, everyone—my publisher, my editor, my readers, the reviewers—started clamoring for John Kane to find a romantic interest. Finally, I caved and wrote in Patricia’s character, along with an arc leading them to marriage. That’s three books from now.”

A puzzle piece snapped together in Brooke’s mind. John and Patricia’s relationship.Thatwas the weak spot in Sam’s recent novels.

“What do you have to do?” she asked.

“Fix it.” He stared at the laptop screen. “Apparently the criticism is taking its toll. I’ve been told the romance is bringing the whole series down.”

“Is your editor helping you?”

“I want him to be hands-off.” Sam frowned at his computer. “I don’t like feedback until I send him the final draft.”

Brooke took another step closer and risked a glance at his laptop screen. A blank page was pulled up.

“Based on the card shuffling and potato-chip eating, I’m going to guess your improvement of the romance isn’t going all that well,” she ventured.

He let out a humorless laugh. “Your guess would be correct. Add to the evidence file the fact that I’m even telling you about this. I must already be going stir-crazy.”

“Or you actually trust me.”

He looked up sharply. Their gazes collided with a hot spark. Brooke’s pulse accelerated. Curling her fingers into her palms, she sat slowly in the easy chair.

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