Beware the Hour

Did you know at 1am I morph from a sports writer into a romance author? This is not by choice or design. In fact, I wasn’t aware of this POOF!-like transformation until last night when my Navy-Notre Dame recap drifted into the wee hours of the morning. In a hiccup my objective, biting commentary of the Midshipmen triple-option poofed into long, lazy, sultry sentences of a fan’s ardent amour. Talk about jarring and just a little bit freaky. Bottom line: I really wish I would have come with a warning label. Until tomorrow… Chloe