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CHAPTER ONE
ELLIE
Cockblocked By My Brain
His cock was huge.
I sighed, disappointed.
I couldnotstart a book like that.
I hit the backspace key until I’d deleted it all. Unfortunately, all that had achieved was giving me another great view of a blank page with nothing but the words “Chapter One” written on it.
I’d been here for eight days, staring at the endless whiteness that was the beginning of a new book.
It was new to me.
My writing process could be chaotic, but the only thing that wasn’t was the fact that I always had the first scene written before I officially started writing and tracking my words.
With this book…
I had nothing.
Nada.
Diddly-bloody-squat.
I’d written the first line what felt like one hundred thousand times, and I was shit out of luck.
My brain was broken.
There were no words in there.
I knew the working title. I knew the story. I knew how my down-on-her-luck heroine’s life would change after a chance meeting with a duke who was once her brother’s best friend. I knew how they’d fall in love and save each other from their messy lives, but I couldn’t write it.
This was a problem, to say the least. I had a tight-arse deadline from my publisher to adhere to and an awful lot of dedicated readers who were desperately awaiting a new book.
One that I couldn’t write.
The words were gone.
I was no stranger to a bit of writer’s block. Usually, a day or two away doing something mindless like sorting the towels or watching my favourite show or even reading a book would fix it, but not today.
There was a great wall there, stopping my fingers and my brain from communicating.
Nothing worked.
It was scary.
I’d never been in this position before.
And, of course, the more I thought about my looming deadline, the more I panicked. The more I panicked, the tenser I got, and the less I could focus, meaning I had less and less chance of getting myself out of the situation I was in.
It was a vicious circle of never-ending proportions.
I was somewhere in the middle of it all right now. The words just really weren’t coming out, and it was so stupid because they werethere. In my brain. Swirling around and around the way tea did after stirring.
But I didn’t need themthere. I needed them on the page.
