Tips n’ Trix #1: Writer’s Block

More often lately, I get emails and messages from new writers asking for advice and/or for me to read their first novel. And while I rarely have the time to read, I don’t want to turn anyone away either, because who doesn’t remember being new and uncertain about how the industry works?

As an avid list-maker, I can think of no better assistance than compiling lists of my own go-to advice for when things go south one way or another. Writer’s block is one of those things, so I thought I’d start with that.

I have a handful projects that’ve left me completely stumped. I can’t write a single word on those stories. Some projects aren’t meant to be; some are meant to wait until I’m in a different mental space or period of my life. Those characters simply have to be patient. But most of the time, really, I can shatter that block. Because sometimes I have to admit to myself that the reason I have a writer’s block is because I’m lazy and have half-assed something in the writing process, like character development or a plot point. Therefore, a writer’s block is a good indicator for me to go back and see what I can do different. Like a built-in radar saying hold up, this doesn’t pass the test.

1.) Give your character a personality test. Sometimes I haven’t taken enough to time to get to know my character, and if I’m struggling to write them, I go to and answer as the person I’m writing. Is he a leader type? Is she introverted? Does he work with his hands? Will she cancel on that party because she’s drained after a long day? Is she the kind of woman who will lose three hours doing Buzzfeed quizzes? (If the answer is yes, I go to Buzzfeed too.) Giving my character more layers kick-start the writing more often than not.

2.) Music is a big part of writing for me, as it is for many authors. If I fail to connect with my character, I make sure I’m listening to the right music. The book isn’t about me, so I shouldn’t be listening to music I like. I should go for the music my character enjoys. Sometimes the Sadist comes home and finds me blasting some obscure metal band, and he’ll just stare at me like I’ve lost my mind. And I’ll yell, it’s not for me! It’s for a character. And the funny thing is, that makes sense to him. He’s so used to my writer quirks by now. 🙂 Either way, it’s another helpful way to become one with whoever I’m writing, and it doesn’t stop at music. If you gotta walk a mile in your character’s shoes, go ahead. Cook their favorite food, watch their favorite TV shows, etc.

3.) Time to go back. Many times when I can’t seem to type another word in a story, it’s that radar going off. I’ve done something wrong. Something is messed up with the story. So I go back and figure out what part I’m not completely satisfied with. If my characters are alive and kicking in my brain, chances are they will let me know. Hey, woman, what you wrote here is out of character for me.

4.) No, I mean it, the book isn’t about me. Occasionally, that block gets slammed into place when I realize I’ve inserted myself into the story. I go back and reread my words and see that they’re my opinions, my views, not my character’s. That’s a big no-no. Casey as a secondary character in Path of Destruction is one of them. I loved writing that guy; he was so sweet and funny and equally insecure and ballsy, and it sort of swept me away. I began writing musings that reflected my own person, and then I stopped. I couldn’t write more. I also couldn’t figure out why because I liked this dude! I could relate to him. And of course I could. As I went back, it was clear as day. He’d taken over the story that wasn’t even about him, and the words he spoke were mine. I rewrote every word in the scenes he was in. I was mildly freaked out too, and felt the need to distance myself from him. That’s why I made him a Pepsi lover. #TeamCokeZero.

5.) Push it. A story has to flow naturally to be good, but it’s important to see the difference between the story and the writing. Being an author is still a job, and no job is 100% “go with the flow.” Sometimes I have to push myself to write. Some scenes and chapters are less fun but necessary, and if I always followed the “only write when you want to” rule, I’d never finish a book. Imagine telling a businessman to only do what’s fun. Imagine telling a factory worker to only work when he felt like it. It doesn’t work that way. A cocky wiseguy pops up in my head and goes, nah, motherfucker, get outta hea’ wid’at shit. (His name is Dominic, and he is loud.)

6.) …but sometimes, you gotta walk away. Take a break. Watch TV, go shopping, head out for a long walk. Clear your head. Staring at a document all day, without the ability to add more words, will only make us blind and pissed off. This is how certain items get chucked at the wall. So spare your phone or the nearby remote control and step away. Sometimes a few hours are enough, sometimes you need a week or more. Come back with a fresh perspective and perhaps new impressions and events to add to the story.

7.) Which brings us to…PLOT TWIST. This is sort of a final resort for me, and it has to make sense; it has to be what was missing. But every now and then, a plot twist is the right answer and will bring the writing back to life.

Last but not least, I have some advice on how to prevent a writer’s block. As everything else here, the advice is highly individual, and what works for me might not work for you.

1.) If you find yourself staring up the hill of Mt. Writer’s block frequently, it might be a good idea to change your writing process/strategy. Speaking from my own experience, I used to have the entire story mapped out in my head. And I got bored. I got so freaking bored because I already knew what was going to happen, and I need the writing to surprise me with twists and turns too. So I stopped mind-mapping and figuring it all out before I started. Now, before I begin, I know the gist. I know the beginning, I know the ending, and I know the major plot points. The rest…I let the characters lead the way. This is why my two closest, Lisa and Eliza, laugh their asses off whenever I claim, I’m gonna write a short novella! Let’s just say, Dirty Chef was supposed to be a short story. Their Boy(!) was supposed to be a novella. Same with We Have Till Dawn, We Have Till Monday, and The Job. Safe to say, my head bitches in charge don’t trust me for shit.

1.5.) Or you could need the opposite. If you get stuck because your mind is a chaotic mess and you can’t untangle the web you’re weaving, perhaps you’d do better with a mind map or a list. A quick summary of each chapter could help you stay on track.

2.) Is writing your full-time job? Do you have kids running around you all day? Is life busy? My rule of thumb is to finish a first draft fairly quickly. That way, the story is the only thing that exists in my head, and I don’t sidestep or forget what I’ve written. It stays fresh in my memory, from start to finish. But with this approach, I have to adjust my writing to fit my personal life. If life is busy and I’m juggling one too many projects, I’ll write a shorter and simpler story. I save the monster projects that require months of research for when I have the time to sit down and really get into it. No book deserves to be half-assed, amirite?

There you have it! I hope at least some of it was helpful and that you can crush that writer’s block.

Until next time,


The O’Sullivan Outlaws are Ready to Steal You Away – New MM Release!

The O’Sullivan brothers will steal you away to the grit and glitz of Las Vegas in this fast-paced romance. 

MM Romance | Family | Crime | Humor | Suspense | Standalone

I’m not supposed to do this job without Boone.

We may not share genes, but it’s been us against the world since his mom took me in as a toddler. The rowdy O’Sullivan boys who raised all the hell that Vegas could handle. Not that all my memories are wild and make my heart race. After all, I realized I was in love with the bastard at some point, so there’s been plenty of pathetic yearning and jealousy too. 

Even so, it’s been him and me. Brothers, partners in crime, and, for the past six years, co-parents to an amazing little girl. But that’s another story. Right now, I gotta focus on the job our cousin gave us, and I need Boone by my side.

The problem is we haven’t really been on speaking terms for four years now.

Click Here | The Job on Amazon | Click Here

This story takes place in Cara Dee’s Camassia Cove Universe, a fictional town where all books stand on their own, unless otherwise stated, and the reader can jump in wherever they want. 

My Autistic Perspective as an Author

Tomorrow is #WorldAutismAwarenessDay, and I thought it was fitting to write a post about that on the day I send my next novel to my editor. Because I’m rarely so autistic as I am after I’ve finished a big project. 

It happens the moment I click save and send it off. Like a flip of a switch, the research brain that’s been running on fumes with 74 open tabs begins to power down, and I find myself sitting on the couch with a Coke Zero, staring off into space, without the ability to grasp what’s going on in my head. My thoughts become jumbled, exhaustion kicks in, and I become hypersensitive to new impressions. 

This is the wrong time to ask me what’s for dinner, because chances are I won’t be able to make up my mind and I’ll just start crying instead. Which sounds way more dramatic than it is; it’s just how decompression works for me. I need space, and I need quiet to untangle the mess in my noggin’. 

At times, it almost feels like I’m drunk. I get sluggish and a bit dopey. 🙂 Because it’s a release too. All the tension from intense work starts to fade away, and that’s definitely a nice feeling!

I do wish I was better at sharing personal thoughts about this on social media sometimes, not necessarily for my own sake, but because I know there are many undiagnosed people out there who grow up thinking there’s something wrong with them. That was me for the longest time, until I was in my twenties. I process things differently, whether it’s humor or grief, my daily schedule or my long-term goals in life, the news or music I’ve listened to, etcetera. I compartmentalize like a pro, and it’s a coping mechanism to keep my organized chaos somewhat tidy. 

Different doesn’t equal wrong, though. Sure, there are things that get lost in translation with neurotypical people, but mishaps are part of life. It’s partly why I enjoy writing autistic characters, because it gives me a chance to journal my own experiences behind the face of a character. So while I may not often share personal thoughts on Facebook, there’s truth in every fictional character I produce. A bit of it, anyway! It’s also a way to show readers how autistic persons might process something, or how some of us reach certain conclusions. 

An added bonus, a humbling one, is having readers reach out to me—often mothers of autistic children—who worry about the future. Parents want their kids to grow up happy and have the same opportunities as everyone else, of course. Find love, work, friends, and so on. Things that no one can ever promise anyone—but the scenarios we paint, those of us who write autistic characters in contemporary fiction, can at least show possibilities. We can, to an extent, bridge a gap between questions and answers, worries and hopes. And that’s pretty cool to me.

Of course, this is still fiction. While I think extensive research is the backbone to any good book, I’m not one of those who demand 100% accuracy in every portrayal. Sometimes I stumble upon posts on Facebook and Twitter where people more or less lose their shit over something they’ve read, and they found it entirely unrelatable. Yeah, well. Someone else might relate. I’ve read autistic characters that make me cock an eyebrow and go, “Yeah, right!” But you know, we’re not all the same. Far from it. Not everyone will relate to my characters either. They’re not meant to. I’d like for my characters to stand on their own, and if someone finds themselves nodding along and thinking, hey, I’m just like that, it’s another bonus. 

My point is, I appreciate authors who want to challenge themselves and write something new. They don’t need to know someone with autism, they don’t have to be autistic, just give it a go. Research and write your heart out. To me, intentions matter.

Awareness is always good. It leads to discussions and open debates. 

It leads to more perspectives. 

This is just mine.



Exclusive Content from Cara (Plus a new release!)

Hi there! 

I’ve copy-pasted my newsletter here today, because I wanted y’all to get a look at the changes I’m introducing. Because, free outtakes and stuff. So here goes!

Starting right now, my newsletter will look a little different. You’ll receive an update from me once a month—no more, no less—and you can count on exclusive content. For instance, every newsletter will have a free outtake from one of my books! Or rather, from the couples I write about. Sometimes it’ll be a one-page shorty, sometimes a 30-page monstrosity 😉 More often than not, somewhere in between.

But first! A hot, spankin’ new release that goes live tomorrow, on Nov 19. Available for preorder!

MM | Autism in Romance | Roleplay | Age Difference | Standalone
Nicky Fender retired from sex work two years ago and never looked back. Then an offer he can’t refuse comes his way, and he agrees to one last exclusive arrangement. But when he meets Gideon, this older, smoking hot, uncertain, filthy, autistic businessman on a quest to explore his sexuality, Nicky wishes sunrise would never come.

Available in Kindle Unlimited!

Join us for release day shenanigans in my Facebook group on November 19-20! You can find my group here.

Nicky and his brother are musicians, and they have their own playlist on Spotify. You can follow it right here.

Before I unleash the first outtake on y’all, I just wanted to mention that I’m currently working on several projects, including Kellan and Shannon’s story (an MM standalone spinoff from the This Life Universe,) the next book for Gray and Darius, a secret project, and an MF titled Her All Along. If you’re a fan of Darius in the Auctioned Series, not to mention the rest of the Quinn family, Her All Along will give you a big glimpse into their past. But more on that later!

Here’s your first outtake, and I will see you in the next newsletter, which will be about the release of River and Reese’s taboo prequel. Speaking of River and Reese…

Okay, so here’s where the outtake goes, but if you wanna read it, you’ll find it in my newsletter right here. And to make sure you don’t miss the future outtakes, you can subscribe here!

One last thing before I go. My web shop is live again. Until next time!

Breathless Release!

“Will you beat me without knowing why I want it?”

I’m used to rejection by Sadists at this point. No one wants to beat me or skip aftercare; they wanna talk and get all up in my business—where they don’t freaking belong. But I give it one more try when I spot River and Reese Tenley at a kink party. The only thing bigger than them is their reputation as hardcore Sadists. To the memories of grief and why I’m seeking punishment, I ask them to hurt me.

“Sure. It’s your funeral.”

MMM | The Game Series | BDSM | Book 3 | Standalone | Sadomasochism | Daddykink

Breathless goes live tomorrow, on September 15, but you can preorder right now! Just click HERE to pick up your copy.

Until next time!


Adding Layers to Characters

GS 3 Tablet

Hi there, long time no see and all that. Yes, I just heard my editor complain about that very first sentence in my head. Like a character, she lives there permanently and pipes up every now and then.

Zip it, I tell her, now’s not the time.

So! I hope y’all are feeling all right in these weird times. I’m currently trying to make my deadline and finish writing Breathless, the next book in the Game Series, before my birthday on July 23rd. But today I woke up feeling generally off. Headache, stomachache, and some mild nausea. Not enough to throw my ass on the bed and declare myself dying in hopes of lots of sympathy from the man in the house, but enough to completely pull me away from my writing.

Well, sort of.

Breathless is going to be a somewhat angsty, hotter-than-hell, eventually sweet kink story about Shay Acton, a young man who’s lost most of his family, and twin Sadists River and Reese Tenley. It’s a standalone piece, but for those following the series, it’s a “Finally! We get the twins!” As they’ve already made appearances in the previous two books. 🙂

And you know what’s freaking impossible to write when you’re not feeling well?

Sizzling hot kink. Yeah. It’s not happening today.


My passion has always been to write everyday heroes and heroines, with everyday struggles, realistic misfortunes and mishaps happening, and all those insignificant human isms. They go to the bathroom, they sneeze when their noses tickle, they get food poisoning, they have cramps, headaches, and mood swings.

They get sick sometimes.

Yeah! Guess who I just gave a fever? Shay will battle this off day with me; I will get back to writing, and he will just suffer with me. The words sure as heck flow easier when I can get into the scene properly and relate to what he’s feeling, and I think…I think the Tenley twins need to give him ice cream and cuddles.

To be frank, I want ice cream too.

Much love,


Linky link: The Game Series.

Daddy kink | Age difference | Realistic BDSM | S/M | …and much more.

Food + Sex + Best Friends in Love = Dirty Chef

Couple On Kitchen



Alessia on Adam

He’s a feeling. His energy is a force that makes an impact whether you want it to or not. He’s charming, easygoing, and loved by everyone. Especially me. He’s been the love of my life since I was a fifteen-year-old summer camper and he was a burned-out chef volunteering to make sloppy joes in the dining hall.

Unfortunately, he has a type. Tall, thin, and gorgeous. And I’m…none of those things.

I’m the friend. The roommate. The one he runs a restaurant with.

Adam on Alessia

She’s my past, my present, and my future. She’s my muse. I cook with her tastes in mind. I cook for her. But, as my brother points out, she won’t be my future if I don’t come clean about the fact that I’ve been hung up on her for years.

Coming clean might not be a choice at this rate, though. If I see Alessia on another goddamn dating app, I’m gonna lose my shit. I physically can’t stay away from her any longer, even if I risk losing everything we’ve built together.

The Objective

The sexiest Valentine’s Day menu ever created. And maybe, just maybe, fingers aren’t the only thing getting licked after this meal.

Buon Appetito!

Couple On Kitchen


She’d meet someone soon. They’d get married and she would squeeze out a few runts, and I would never see her again. It would start out slow, of course. First, we’d stop living together because her new man would find that weird. Then, she’d miss a few shifts at work. Dates and whatnot. Eventually, she’d hire someone—maybe a hostess or bartender. She’d come to work one day with a rock on her finger, and she would burst with excitement as she announced she was pregnant.

I wanted to fucking hurl.

“Oh, look,” she gasped softly.

I raised a brow at the babies. The boy yawned.

“So cute,” Alessia whispered. “I know I’m being silly, but I’m just so happy for Isla and Jack.”

Yeah, everyone was pleased as punch, from grandparents and siblings to friends and even the freaking nurses.

Aforementioned family members also knew how to go home and catch some rest.

“I’m gonna check in with the new parents,” I said. “Then we’re outta here, all right?”

Alessia nodded, probably thrilled to get another few minutes of staring at the babies.

Yup, I was definitely losing her.


I found my brother in the next hall. Isla was asleep in the hospital bed, and Jack was in the uncomfortable chair next to her, checking his phone.

I knocked lightly on the doorframe, and he glanced up and smiled sleepily.

“Mom just texted and asked if you’d managed to drag Alessia out of here yet.” He kept his voice down and stood up, walking over so we could let Isla sleep. I stepped out into the hall and removed my ball cap. “You okay?”

“Sure.” I nodded with a dip of my chin. “I talked to Alex and Jamie. We’re doing a Grady Night this weekend at Mom and Dad’s. You know that means free babysitting.”

Jack chuckled quietly and scrubbed a hand over his face. Then he flicked a glance through the window to Isla’s room. “I’ll talk to Isla,” he murmured. “I’m not so naïve that I don’t believe we’ll be tired.”

“Fucking exhausted,” I agreed.

He slid his gaze back to me. “Why the rush, though?”

I shrugged and scratched my bicep. “We gotta celebrate, don’t we?”

He drew a deep breath and saw straight through me. He didn’t even bother narrowing his eyes, something he was great at when he sniffed out bullshit. Maybe he was too tired. Or maybe I was so goddamn pathetic in my quest to fill Alessia’s calendar with family shit that it was too easy, too obvious.

“Are you never going to talk to her?” Jack asked curiously, and I tensed up. “Be honest with me, Adam. You’re seriously just going to let her run off with someone she’ll be content with at best.”

“Don’t.” I clenched my jaw. I’d hidden my feelings for Alessia for longer than I cared to admit, and no one had so much as suspected anything until Isla barged into Jack’s life and assumed Alessia and I were together the very first time she met us. “You don’t know what it’s like,” I told him.

He hiked his brows. “Oh, I don’t?”

I shook my head. “No, you don’t, and I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking about her—” I gestured to the room where Isla slept “—and the babies, but it ain’t the same. Alessia is in every part of my life. We live together, we run Coho together—she’s my best friend. She’s my past, my present, and my future. If I lose her, I have nothing.” An invisible noose tightened around my neck, and I hauled in a breath. The mere idea of not having Alessia in my life was fucking crippling. “I won’t risk it,” I stated. “I live and breathe that girl.”

Something softened in my brother’s gaze. “She might not be your future, though.”

I didn’t need a reminder.



Couple On Kitchen

Social Media Links:




Facebook Page:

Facebook Reader Group:







This Life II


Title: This Life II

Author: Cara Dee (That’s me!)

Series: This Life, Book 2

Genre: MF Romance/Mafia Romance

Amazon Universal:

Empty Background Scene. Dark Street Reflection On The Wet Paveme


Finnegan O’Shea

My uncle had never deserved to be the boss of the Sons of Munster, and for the longest time I thought that pompous jackass was my worst nightmare. Then Gio Avellino sent a crew to Philly to take down the syndicate I’d just become the unofficial boss of. He’d kidnapped my uncle, put the love of my life in harm’s way, and…he’d murdered my mother.

So yeah, my first year as a married man was off to a rousing start—we were on the run, severely outnumbered, and I still hadn’t told my wife the truth about her own mother and her connection to the Avellino family.

Luck of the Irish? Uh-huh. I was gonna need a lot of that.

Emilia O’Shea

Was there such a thing as getting used to being married to a mobster? Finnegan lied and stole for a living, and trust didn’t come easy. If only the bastard hadn’t stolen my damn heart.

After spending the summer in hiding, I was ready to shoulder my role as the new matriarch of the family. Even though my husband’s mother’s shoes were impossible to fill, I would do my best and take on the responsibility with my own little twist. I couldn’t be the mother to everyone, but I could be a Daughter of Munster.

Because though I struggled with some aspects of Finnegan’s lifestyle, this was personal.

This was war.

Haven’t read This Life I yet? You can find it here:

Secret Concept. Sexy Woman Keep A Secret, Copy Space

Social Media Links:




Facebook Page:

Facebook Reader Group:





Glamour Shoe And Crown

This author tried to keep her mouth shut


I’ve been staring at this empty document for about twenty minutes now, and I’m still not sure how to phrase myself.

I should start by saying that I always shy away from drama. I wouldn’t say I keep my head down and chicken out from stating my opinions; I’ve just made the choice to focus on romance, on the books I write, and on characters.

That’s part of why I’m blogging today, because the issues, for lack of a better term, have reached characters and how we write them.

It’s unbelievable that an author has to say this, but here goes: I am not my characters. They are, however, a reflection of my view of society, and that includes all walks of life. I spend an insane amount of time on research in order to be able to stick to “write what you know.” I have written teachers, rock stars, bartenders, bipolar hockey players, autistic men and women, the rich, the poor, the homeless, and everyone in between. I seek out perspectives of those who know from experience, and I do my best to give a realistic portrayal–in most of my books. I’m not gonna lie, when I write BDSM, I put more energy in portraying kink than the occupation of the characters.

I’ve been lucky so far. I haven’t been involved in any platform-wide drama. My writing hasn’t been dragged through the mud. Yet, maybe. But every now and then, I receive a message from an angry reader, which I guess is unavoidable–we can’t please them all–and I choose not to make a big deal out of it. I choose to ignore it or address it privately.

Now I’m kinda done. Today’s political climate has become so infected, and we’ve seemed to have lost the plot when we go after fictional characters. My own political views don’t matter one bit when I write. I joke when I play the devil’s advocate with my friends and say I’m a bit of a political cocktail. Socially progressive, part classic liberal, part libertarian, with a twist of conservatism. Either way, I will write characters whose own opinions I disagree with.

For chrissakes, I made Casey in Path of Destruction and Uncomplicated Choices a Pepsi lover.



Kidding aside, I have conservative characters and liberal characters and those who don’t give a flying fuck about politics. Politics rarely play a part in my books, though it’s there, like a current flowing underneath it all in some stories.

Which brings us to the use of language.

I’m currently writing This Life II, and side note, I’m having a blast writing a liberal woman with a conservative man. It doesn’t kidnap the main plot; it’s a source of banter, some eye-rolling, and discussion. The main plot…okay, there’s a lot going on in this trilogy, but it’s mafia romance. And you wanna know something bizarre?

Finnegan, the name of the hero, kills, steals, lies, and deceives for a living. No problem. Mafia romance is a popular genre, and we like reading bad boys who are devoted to one woman only. I’ve had so much fun researching his skillsets, and I haven’t thought twice about him committing murder or stealing. Then the other day, I came to a stop. I wrote something, and I leaned back and went, “Shit, can I really write that? Some will take offense.”

Here I was, writing a scene in which he is going to kill someone who’s scared his wife, and I hesitate because he called the enemy retard.

It’s nuts.

I’ve already put a leash on my boundaries if I consider altering the language for the sake of delicate readers.

I won’t do that.

Finnegan, an Irish mobster from Philly, will definitely use the word retard.

So did Dominic in Home. Because do you know who doesn’t care about being politically correct? A twenty-four-year-old guy who’s spent most of his adult years on the streets, trying to make a buck to go see his autistic daughter.

Speaking of Autism. As an autistic author, am I supposed to be offended by the use of this word?

I’m not. And even if I were, I’d use it. Because it fits certain characters and the world they grew up in.

It doesn’t fit into Adrian’s world. He’s the kind high-school teacher who teaches history and takes Dominic in. When Dominic uses the word retard, Adrian mutters a dry joke about how he throws books at his students for saying the “r-word.”

In the real world, perspectives meet–and sometimes crash–all the time. They do that, and will continue to do so, in my books too.

The next word is cunt. Or cunty. A few months ago, I actually received a message through my website from an anonymous reader. They claimed I should know better than to use the word cunty. Especially because I am a woman. Cunty is degrading to us. It was funny to me–you know, after the shock settled–that someone (a woman maybe?) would tell me, another woman, how to write, what is degrading to me. Pro tip: don’t police this woman’s  use of language for her characters.

I showed the message to a couple friends, and I wanted their honest opinion. Did I use the word poorly? Like, in the wrong place for the wrong person?


The character in question, a working-class dude from New Jersey, had this word in his vocabulary. End of. And the irony in this specific scenario was so brilliant, because the guy had been in the middle of defending a woman when he used the word. But that didn’t matter. Intentions lost their meaning, and everything became about the word he used.

I started out as a fanfiction author, and many are waiting for me to rework another mafia series and publish it as an original, and to be honest, I’ve been dreading it. We’re talking full-on Sicilian/American mafia taking place in the ’70s up to present day in Las Vegas. No one will bat an eyelash at the bodies they bury in the desert, but then there’s the way they speak and how they treated their women…

I’m gonna write it, though. It’s what I do.

Now I’m going back to Finnegan and Emilia in This Life II. She’s pregnant and just had a glass of champagne.