It’s been a while. I’m ashamed to admit it. Writing is a passion of mine and has been for over 20 years. I think this has been the longest that I have been blocked regarding writing, word counts, story arcs, and whatnot. I have multiple books in the works, three over halfway there towards the ending stretch and yet the mental block is there.

Now people can give me advice all day long.

Go for walk


Write whatever comes to mind


Read aloud


Advice. All. Day. Long.

But it does no good if I stay at a blank screen for hours with a mind that’s literally blank.

Beyond frustrated!

Now this is where I ask…

Anyone have any advice that’s not common?


Perfect Finale – Book Two – A Small Excerpt

He watched the lights blaze in the house across the street as a slow smile curved his thin lips. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

Quickly scanning the exterior of the small structure in front of him, he searched for the usual signs of life, anything to pinpoint her location. He craved the sight of her but if it was one thing he had learned in life, it was patience.

At least that’s what he kept telling himself, but he did know one thing for certain. He had waited this long, and the end result would be climatic.

Looking at the picture-perfect house, at the illusion it illuminated, he chuckled, the sound echoing throughout his small sedan. It did look cozy, almost too perfect, but he knew better. Thinking of their last meeting made him chuckle again

Let her feel safe for the moment. Her time was fast approaching, and he couldn’t wait. It was all an illusion.

He noticed the lack of activity in the neighborhood and another small house across the street from his target, catty-corner and sitting back a ways from the pavement and road. It was of the same style but slightly larger. He couldn’t see much in the darkness and he frowned, not liking the problem it could potentially pose. Thankfully, it was the only two houses on the block that were occupied. The others were vacant, void of life, just like his life, just like hers would soon be.

Still frowning, he looked at the other house with a considering look and made a mental note to research the owner. He was nothing if not detailed and prepared. It was how he had managed to escape and hadn’t gotten caught yet, even with the massive man hunt and being on the FBI Most Wanted List.

The fucking fools.

He returned his attention to the house lit up like a Christmas tree and his frown disappeared, a grin replacing the tense lines around his thin lips.

She’s scared of the dark, he thought, laughing quietly as he thought of her in the small house, jumping at every noise and every shadow. He relished the thought, the imagine of that. It was almost better than watching the terror itself but not quite. Nothing was better than actually seeing it, causing it, watching as the light dimmed from the eyes.

After almost a year, he had finally found her.

Oh, she had been good, hiding her tracks. That fucking brother of hers had no doubt helped, but he wouldn’t be an issue. He knew he was better, and she would pay for ruining his life, ruining everything he had worked for. She may not have been planned. She may have been more opportunity at the time than an actual target, but she had been his. He thought of that cabin, of the pain and terror on her lovely face and took a deep breath as he closed his eyes for a split second, reliving those precious moments.

She would be his again and this time, she wouldn’t escape his plans and did he have plans for her.

He hadn’t really faulted his no-good son for calling the cops, for helping her. His son was a damn cop himself after all. That was expected, but Ethan had always been weak, always acting too good, too moral, for his own good. He was just like his prissy mother and looked how that turned out?

He laughed, the dark sound filling the silence of his vehicle as he thought of his late wife, but soon lost all humor thinking about his son. The damn boy would end up just like his mother if he got in his way, but he would cross that bridge when he came too it.

Sitting in that damn cell waiting for his trial, he had made a vow. He would escape and make her pay. Now his plans were set in motion but just then, as he gazed over at the house, he couldn’t really complain. If she was afraid of the dark, then he was in her thoughts and he loved that idea.

Maybe…just maybe…

Plans formed, racing through his mind, but then he made a snap decision. This was going to be fun. He wouldn’t kill her yet, even though that had been the plan before. It might have been reckless, but he was going to enjoy playing with her a bit before he made her pay. Besides, he had some unfinished business he needed to get back too, business that was screaming for his attention. At the pun of his thoughts, he laughed out loud. This time, she wouldn’t escape him, and he would get his screams, her begging. He had plans for Allie Walker, or Barnett, and nothing was going to stand in his way.

Soon, darling, very soon.