I toss back an Ambien, something I take whenever I have trouble sleeping, and then I pull my laptop onto the bed. I have about thirty minutes before it kicks in, so I might as well be productive. Clicking into my fan fiction account, I use the Wi-Fi password Asher had texted me as I check the recent comments for the story I’m writing. It’s a mash-up of Eragon and Game of Thrones. My main character is currently on her knees for a seven-foot dragon hybrid, begging him to wreck her life.
