Page 10 of Caught With the Sheriff

“I usually just like coffee for breakfast.”

Maggie sniffs. “You’re too tiny. You need to eat more than that. Nobody can function on just coffee.”

She slides a platter of scrambled eggs in front of me with a side of bacon. “Eat,” she orders.

I pick up my fork and sniff the delicious smell of bacon. I love bacon, dammit!

I bite into the perfectly crispy strip and moan.

Maggie grins. “Bacon lover, huh? I don’t blame you. If I wasn’t worried that my cholesterol would go nuts, I’d eat it too!”

My brow lifts. “I find that hard to believe, Maggie. You look like you’re in good shape.”

She snorts. “Tell my doctor that. He’s a real pain in my ass.”

“Swear jar, Memaw!” Claudia growls while chewing up a bite of food.

“Eat, Claudia.”

“Fine,” she huffs, scarfing down her pancakes.

Maggie glances over at me. Her brow creases. “You look familiar.”

Sighing, I push my plate away. I hate this part. “I write.”

“Yes!Oh my god!You write the best romances I’ve ever read. They’re so real and yet just…perfect. Except…” Her voice trails off.

I know what she’s going to say. She’s going to say the last book wasn’t like me.

I know. Livvy knows it. Hell, everybody knows it. I got royally panned in the trades. My feedback was awful. Not that they didn’t like the story. Just that it didn’t sound like my usual stories. Like my voice was muted somehow.

And it is.

I can’t forget that damn man. Can’t stop the nightmares. Can’t get enough sleep.

I can’t forget. Any of it. Not the pain, not the awful look in his eyes. None of it. It’s haunting me.

Poisoning my writing. My life. All of it. Seeping into every damn piece of me until I’m just a shadow of myself.

A scared, tiny, insignificant shadow.

“I know,” I mutter under my breath.

“I’m sorry,” Maggie says. “I didn’t mean to say it like that. It was still a great book. I just didn’t feel as connected to the characters as I usually do.”

“I get it. I do.”

“So are you working on something new?”

“I am. It’s not going great. But I am.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit a nerve,” she says, patting my hand lightly. I pull it back and smile.

“It’s alright. It will come.”

“Thank you. I know it will.”

“You need to get out of your head. I bet you’ve been working too hard. Pushing it.”