Sometimes...

...I just have to write what you feel like writing. Right at the moment that is a partial called To Love in Fall. How is this not a commercial romance story, let me count the ways: 1) older woman, 2) femdom, 3) first person, 4) male point of view. Hmmm. 12,000 of an estimate 60,000 words written.

To Love in Fall: excerpt

I opened the study door. Raffles and Scarlet came barreling out. They were a pair of yellow labs; getting a little portly as they got on in years but still full of energy. They charged over to the door, milling around like pocket elephants, whacking their tails on the furniture and clattering over the floor. I had long given up on salvaging the hardwood flooring from their claws.

My old oilskin was draped over Rachel’s drafting table; I grabbed it as I slid the door open. The dogs barged out and bolted down the steps and into meadow but I knew they wouldn’t go too far without me.

As I closed the door behind me I turned and saw Rachel through the glass. She was peering at me from the sofa with one pale arm hanging over the back and her hair in disarray, strands floating up from the heat of the fire. She gave me a Mona Lisa half-smile, all chiaroscuro from the flickering fire. Then a trick of the light erased her image and all I could see was a reflection of the sunset and the approaching storm.