I lead two lives.  I am Batman. Okay that is a stretch.  I am probably closer to Jeckyll and Hyde.  Reliable professional by day.  Passionate, writer of love by night.

By day, I sit up straight at my desk, say the word fuck under my breath only in a hushed whisper, and can always be counted on to meet the tightest deadline. I say please and thank you and neaten items on my desk, more than a little compulsively. I prefer my stapler parallel to my tape dispenser, at a slight angle to the tissue box, which is parallel to my in-box and so on.  I keep cough drops and mint gum and fruit flavored antacids in my desk to share with anyone in need. My beverage rests on a hand made coaster to prevent condensation damage to the surface of my desk.

But by night… well that is a different matter entirely and I’m not sharing.

Yesterday, while I was sitting in Starbucks revising the latest draft of Circling, an old acquaintance came over to say hello with his children. My how you girls have grown I said with a smile, sliding my hand to protect the scene I was editing from young eyes. If he knew my hand rested on a steamy oral interlude, he would have had a good laugh.

I’m not ready to share yet though. I’m enjoying the duplicity too much.