Brandy and Duke’s Opinion on My Latest Chapter…
You know that moment when you’re deep in the zone, fingers flying across the keyboard, finally nailing that emotional scene you’ve been wrestling with for days? That moment when your hockey hero is about to lay his heart on the line, when the tension is building perfectly, when you can practically hear the arena crowd holding their breath?
Yeah, my Cavoodles have zero respect for that moment.
I’m currently in the final stages of wrapping up Pucking Tempting, my latest Boston Bruisers hockey romance, and let me tell you—Brandy and Duke have opinions about my work schedule. Strong ones. Specifically, they believe that every single time I sit down to write, it’s actually the perfect time for a walk to the park.
This morning was a perfect example. I’d just gotten Jack and Tara to a crucial point in their relationship—you know, that delicious moment where everything could either fall beautifully into place or spectacularly apart—when I felt two sets of eyes boring into me. I looked up to find Brandy sitting precisely three feet away, staring at me with an intensity usually reserved for squirrel-spotting. Duke had positioned himself by the door, tail wagging hopefully, as if sheer force of will could transport us to our favorite walking spot.
“Five more minutes,” I promised them.
They were not convinced.
Brandy let out a small, pointed sigh—the kind that somehow manages to convey both disappointment and judgment. Duke began the tap-dance routine he reserves for special occasions, his little paws creating a percussion solo on the hardwood floor.
The thing is, they’re not entirely wrong. Writing romance—whether it’s a Regency ballroom or a hockey rink—requires getting into your characters’ heads and hearts. But sometimes, after hours of living in those intense emotional spaces, a walk in the fresh Hawke’s Bay air is exactly what both writer and dogs need.
So we compromised. I finished the scene (Jack finally said what he needed to say, and let me tell you, it was swoon-worthy), saved my work, and then we headed out to the park. And you know what? As Brandy and Duke raced down those worn paths, sniffing every interesting smell and investigating every suspicious rustle in the grass, my brain kept working on the next chapter. Sometimes the best plotting happens when you’re not actively trying to plot.
By the time we got home—two tired, happy dogs and one slightly less frazzled author—I had the next three scenes mapped out in my head. Turns out, my furry critics might be onto something with their insistence on regular park breaks.
Of course, now they think they’ve trained me. Every time I open my laptop, I can see the wheels turning in their fluffy heads: “Is this another writing session? Because we have a standing 11 AM park appointment. And a 2 PM park appointment. And possibly a 4 PM park appointment if you’re being particularly stubborn about this chapter…”
The life of a romance author is glamorous, they said. You can work from anywhere, they said. What they didn’t mention was that you’d have two small, determined personal assistants who believe that “anywhere” should preferably be outside, following a good sniff trail.
But honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way. Brandy and Duke keep me grounded, remind me to take breaks, and provide endless entertainment (and occasionally, inspiration—there might be a dog in my next book, just saying). Plus, their complete indifference to whether I’m writing Regency scandal or contemporary hockey romance is oddly refreshing. To them, all that matters is whether it’s interfering with park time.
Pucking Tempting is so close to being finished, and when it is, I have two furry friends who definitely deserve some celebration walks. But for now, we’ve reached a détente: I write, they supervise (and by supervise; I mean nap nearby and occasionally remind me that grass exists and should be investigated).
What about you? Do your pets have opinions about your work schedule?
