Chapter 1: Writer's Block
Carrying the two wine glasses, Mike walked over to the couch where his partner, Susan, sat. Handing her a glass, he sat down beside her. "A toast," he said. "To a job well done."
Susan held up her glass and replied, "Here, here." As she tilted the glass back, Mike noticed her shoulder holster. Girls with guns were such a turn on for him.
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David stared at the computer screen in horror at what he had just written. Girls with guns were a turn on? How cheesy was that?
David deleted the last line of his story, and paused. Then he paused some more. "Fuck," he exclaimed in frustration. He had just written the entire book, and the ending just wasn't there. "All I need to do is have them fuck, have him change into a werewolf, and the story is done," he thought. "But how do I start that damn sex scene?"
David's latest book was about a serial killer that killed his victims during sex. The catch was that the killer was a werewolf. The werewolf was trying to reproduce, and when it failed to impregnate a woman, he would change, and eat them instead. Mike and Susan were the detectives tracking him down. They eventually find, and kill the werewolf. What Susan was about to find out was that there were in fact two werewolves; Mike was the second.
"Now if I can only get this last scene down," David thought to himself as he slouched down in his chair, and glanced around his office looking for inspiration.
His oak desk was set up against the side wall. He had set it there so he could look out the window into his backyard. Looking out across his yard, across the neighboring field, he could just make out the sun coming up over the mountains. The sky seemed afire, as the golden orb crested the mountain range. He woke early each morning just for that view.
After a few minutes of sightseeing, he turned around in his chair to survey the rest of the room. Two book shelves spanned the length of another wall. Most of the books on those shelves were favorites of his and his daughters. Then there were several research books. One shelf held books he had written. There were nine at the moment.
Against the next wall was another desk. This one was metal, and looked like it belonged to a teacher in a classroom. The family's second computer, humming happily, sat atop it. That one was suppose to be shared by David's daughters, but more often then not they used both computers. David didn't let that bother him though. He loved his girls to the point of distraction. Plus he could always write on his laptop.
Beside the second desk was a printer, scanner, and fax machine. David never used any of these items, but his girls used the scanner and printer often. No one used the fax.
The final wall, where the door to the rest of the house was, held nothing of note, but a painting hanging from it. The painting displayed an elephant charging.
David returned his eyes to the screen. He made a few more attempts, and finally decided to take a break. As he pushed his chair back, his eyes fell upon a picture that sat on his desk. The picture showed a pretty woman of about twenty. She had long raven black hair, and an impish smile. Her name was Lori.
David reached out, and took the picture. He stared into those beautiful brown eyes, and gave it a half smile. "I miss you love," he said quietly. Sighing he set the picture back in its proper place. "Maybe that's my problem with this scene," he mused to himself. Lori had died while giving birth to David's daughter, Jessie. After that, he had thrown himself completely into raising Jessie, and his writing. He hadn't dated anyone. "Guess it's hard to write about something you don't know anything about," he chuckled.
David left the room, and walked toward the kitchen. As he walked past the stairs he heard someone moving about upstairs. He knew that it was Jessie. Kat wouldn't be getting up until after Jess left.
As David walked into the kitchen, he considered making breakfast, but decided not to. Today neither Jess, nor Kat would want any. David instead poured himself some coffee, grabbed a bagel, and headed to the living room.
Sitting down in his favorite chair, David took a bite from his bagel, and turned on the TV. Flipping through the channels, he finally settled on a soap opera. He had no idea which one it was, because he didn't care. All soaps were the same to David. He figured that the thinly stretched plot line would bore him enough to get his own creative juices flowing again.
Hearing someone descending the stairs, David looked over his shoulder, and saw Jess. She was wearing blue shorts, a blue top, and white sneakers. She worked part time at the marina, washing the boats docked there. Today was her last day.
"Good morning, honey," He said to her as he settled back into his chair, and returned his attention to the television.
"Morning, dad," she replied as she bent to give him a kiss on the check. Continuing the move, she then took a bite out of his bagel. She then headed into the kitchen. David didn't have to look to know that the rest of her breakfast would be a glass of orange juice.
"Kat getting up," he asked though he knew the answer already.
"Guess not," Jess replied as she walked back into the room carrying a glass. She had a disgusted look on her face. "I tried to get her up, but she just pulled the covers over her ear. And she shooed me! Can you believe that?"
"Oh? Well I guess she is tired love," David replied while hiding a grin with his bagel. "She was up late last night."
"So was I, and I got up. She can be so lazy sometimes."
David kept his voice neutral when he said, "Let her sleep, love. It is her first day as a graduate after all." David knew why Kat had stayed in bed, just as he knew that she would be up just as soon as Jess left.
"If she hadn't promised to drive me to work, I wouldn't mind so much. She was going to be my moral support."
David found that humorous. Jessica looked like a street thug, but was afraid of her own shadow. She had her mother's black hair, and wore it cut short in a choppy manner. While nowhere near husky, most people who saw her thought "Now there's a girl who can take care of herself." They were wrong, but that's what they thought. She couldn't throw a punch to save her life.
"Don't worry. You'll do just fine. When are you going to tell them?"
"About lunch time, I guess," Jess replied as she sat on the arm of her father's chair. Glancing at the television she said, "That must be some writer's block."
David chuckled at that. Jess knew him real well. "Just having a bit of trouble with the final chapter. I will get it eventually."
"Well, tell me. What's got the great writer so flustered?"
David, who had just taken a sip of coffee, choked a little on that. The word flustered hit a little to close to home. "It's nothing. Nothing at all. I should have it finished tonight."
Jess gave him a long look. "Don't give me that. What's the problem?"
"Don't you got to go to work?" David asked.
