Midnight Muse
Lisa sat and stared at her monitor screen for a long, dismal moment. Then she sighed heavily and picked up her coffee mug. The coffee had gone cold. Well, so had she. She felt tired and completely uninspired. Tired she could fix. The lack of inspiration was another matter entirely. It had been going on for over a month now, and her agent was getting cranky. Lisa couldn’t blame her. This latest bodice-ripper was running way behind schedule. Worse yet, what she’d written so far just didn’t seem to be any good. More and more, Lisa felt like she was writing to an old, threadbare template: Yet another beautiful, pampered and privileged daughter of a nobleman/wealthy merchant/other finds herself at the mercy of a handsome highwayman/pirate/dashing rogue/mysterious brooding man/oth
