It’s been a rough few days here in Chez Harris, as you all know. Tomorrow is a week since we said goodbye to Pitty Pat, and I still pretty much cry every day. Yesterday, I was doing pretty good. No crying — until Mr. Harris came home and checked the mail. Inside were two cards, one from my vet where she and all the office staff wrote a message about sweet Pitty Pat. That one started the waterworks. The next one sealed it. The next card was from the ER vet — and it contains a paw print they took of Pitty Pat on the day she died. OMG, I bawled. Really, this needs to get better, and soon.
I hate grief. I hate this part of the human experience. We have such capacity for love, and then when the individual we love gets taken away, the hole in our lives is almost unbearable. It sucks.
In other news, I’ve finally managed to get busy on my revisions for Book One in the Hostile Operations Team series again. All my work took a serious left turn last week. Some people write through tragedy and sadness — I wallow first. Just have to.
But I’ve been working steadily today, and feeling optimistic about the story. I hope you like it too. I really, really want to get this out there ASAP. I’m excited about the possibilities this new publishing world brings, and I want to be in control of this particular project. I have no intention of stopping writing my Harlequins, however. I am proud to be a Presents author. Very proud.
Sometimes, we get flak for writing “those” books with alpha-holes and doormats. Those are the words of the critics, and I don’t accept them. My heroes are supremely alpha, and my heroines are strong enough to stand toe to toe with them. It’s just the way it works in my world.
And now I have to go write my military alpha and the heroine who is most definitely not a doormat. And then it’s another Presents! This next duo I like to call Sheikhs Gone Wild. We’ll see how wild they go, and if you agree.
Hugs to you all.