Page 20 of Wolfish Player (Steamy Latte Reads Collection #2)

THE AUTHOR

HEATHER

Four a.m.

For the fifth day in a row

T he coffee burns bitter on my tongue, my eyes sting like sandpaper, and the laptop screen looks more like a spotlight than a blank page. Still, my fingers move.

One sentence. Then another. Then a paragraph.

Some mornings it feels like pulling teeth, others like drowning in words. But every day, by the time the interns stumble in at nine, I’ve stacked up pages of Wildwood I thought I’d never write again.

My characters have stopped glaring at me in silence. They’re talking. Running. Fighting. And I’m running with them.

It’s exhausting, but there are moments—tiny ones—where it feels good. Where the weight lifts and I almost believe I’m an author again.

For the first time in forever, the words are coming back—and as much as I want to deny it, Adrian Wolfson is the reason why.