Today I'm back in the saddle, as it were, attempting to be SuperCherie as I flit about in mah snazzy, glittering cape. Oh, in case you didn't get the memo, fabu author and swanky Mom-about-town Cherie has an alter-ego.
Awesome Sauce, the caped and capricious smexinger--writing wrongs, writing smexy men, leaping tall cocks in a single bound and then--
--thowing myself bodily on the explosive rocket launchers of lurve to keep the world safe for sexy soldiers, quirky artist, fucked out Fae and every other hot piece of manflesh I can dream up.
*wiping sweat from brow, yet somehow seeming only more devastatingly sexy*
Right, then, it's back to the cave with me, a-writing I shall go. I've 50,000 to write by Friday. No, really. Plus I need to knock out a few chapters of Wooing Elijah. Er, and find the kitchen. I know we have one somewhere. The boys from my latest WIP, a sexily conservative Fae and a charming and endearingly slutty Human are mixing it up day and night and keeping me completely discombobulated.
As Vicktor Alexander would say, It don't make no sense. None at all.
And on that note, I'll leave you almost as mystified as I am about just what the hell I'm doing.
Really, I don't know if I'm coming or going.
Er, strike that.
I always know when I'm coming. I hope you do too. Geez, minds outta the gutter. I mean you know when you are coming. Or, er, going. LOL.