Emma was back at her house in fifteen minutes and burst through the door, running up her stairs into her study, booting up the laptop impatiently. Running on adrenaline alone, she finished three sex scenes, going so far as to rewrite other chapters and fiddle around with certain phrases until she was completely satisfied.
It had been five hours since she had started writing, she realized with a start as she glanced up the clock. Finally acknowledging the rumbling in her stomach and the ache in her wrist, not to mention the soreness throughout her body, she saved her work and trooped downstairs into the kitchen for a much-needed snack. She took a hot shower, a shorter one than normal, but refreshing all the same, before returning to her study, plopping herself down on her comfortable chair, and going back to the book.
Emma typed continuously for the next ten hours, fuelled by inspiration and the uncontrollable urge to write, not taking notice of the time. When she finally stopped, exhausted, her wrists and back aching, she had almost completed the novel.
Getting up, she trudged tiredly into the kitchen, thanking her lucky stars that she had leftovers in the fridge, and hence did not need to cook. Heating the leftovers in the microwave, she stumbled into the living room, gasping when she noticed her message system blinking.
She had completely forgotten about Jen! Cursing a mile a minute, she grabbed her phone and dialed her sister immediately.
"Hello."
"Jen! It's me, Emma. I'm so sorry-"
"Emmy! Good God. I called you, like, three times today. Did you get in late?" she asked.
"No, I was home in the morning, but I turned the ringer off. I was writing," Emma explained.
"Oh! Managed to overcome your block, then?" Jen asked, a teasing note in her voice.
"God, yes! I've been writing for the last fifteen hours, Jen. And I'm almost done," Emma breathed.
"Fifteen hours! Emmy! That's just like you. Have you eaten?"
"Yeah, a snack in the morning, and I'm heating leftovers now. Jen, did you manage to get back okay last night?"
"Yeah, I got Kyle to come pick me up because the bartender said I'd drunk too much to even remember how to get the door open."
Emma laughed.
"And how did your night go, Emmy?" Jen's voice was sly, and Emma immediately went on guard.
"It was fine."
"Really? Because I seem to recall you leaving with a certain tall, dark and handsome man," Jen teased.
Emma groaned. Busted! "Yes, yes, I did leave with Colin," she admitted.
Jen squealed. "Oh my God! Did you have sex?! Did you? Did you?! Tell me before I spontaneously combust!"
"Jen! A lady never tells."
"Oh, bullshit!"
Emma laughed. "Yeah, yeah, we had sex, and it was great. No, it was better than great. He killed my writer's block, that's how great it was."
Jen squealed again.
Emma heard the microwave beep, signaling that her food was ready.
"Jen, I should go. I want to eat, and finish the book. I think I'm going to be able to hand it in early. Definitely a Christmas release. Joan will be thrilled."
They hung up, and Emma quickly ate before deciding that she ought to head to bed instead of continuing her writing. She was incredibly tired, and welcomed the soft covers with relief.
The next few days sped by similarly, with Emma spending most of her time typing away at her laptop. Her meal cycle was completely thrown off, she ate only when she couldn't stand the growling of her stomach, and when she did, it was a quick meal so she could get back to writing.
At the end of the week though, Emma breezed through the large glass doors of Black Publishing, riding the elevator to her publisher's plush office, ignoring the calls of the harried secretary and tossing a CD down on Joan's desk.
"I'm done. Early too. Merry Christmas, Joan." She smirked, throwing herself down on one of Joan's ultra-comfy armchairs.
Joan let out a gruff start of surprise and picked the disc up, feeding it into her computer.
"Wow, you got over your block huh?"
"Yep."
"And how did you manage that, may I ask?"
"You may. It just came to me, as these things usually do," Emma said lightly, not wishing to go into any details at all. She got up, brushing her hands on her jeans.
"I'm going to head out. Call me when you're done reading, and all that."
Emma headed straight to her car and drove to her parent's house. She needed a weekend of rest, and food. Lots of it.
Joan called on Monday morning just as Emma was heading back into Manhattan.
"I'm driving," Emma said as she flipped her phone open.
"Emma! You are a genius! An absolute genius! This is your best yet. My panties are drenched just from reading the first chapter."
Emma laughed. "Thanks, Joan. How were the other chapters, though?"
"Fantastic. I had to trap my husband in for a night of sex and more sex. You're an aphrodisiac, Emma. I tell you, my panties are drenched!"
"Great. When are we looking for publishing?"
"Christmas release, and I know you will want to head back home for Christmas, but I'm going to need some promotional book signings at the usual places, a week before, I think."
"Joan!"
"Emma, come on. Please. You're gorgeous, you're sexy, the housewives will want to be you and the men will want you, and you will sell more books!"
"Joan, seriously. You know I really don't like these book signings."
"I've got a present for you if you do."
"Joan, I don't care for your present."
Joan huffed, and Emma grinned.
"Fine, it's the publishing house's present. You're going to get it whether or not you want it, plus you're going to get a raise too, judging by the projected numbers for the book sales I'm looking at."
Emma's interest was piqued. "How many books?"
"I'm not going to tell you, and you will never find out, unless you agree to the book signings. And I'm also going to throw in a personal assistant on the days to answer to your every whim and fancy. And, wait for this one, NYU called me."
Emma gasped. "NYU called you?! Joan!"
"Agree to the book signings."
"Joan, what did NYU say? Why the hell are they not calling me directly?"
"Agree to the book signings, and I sent an email to them at the start of your sabbatical, stating that all future points of contact would be through me."
That sneaky woman!
"Joan!"
"Agree to the book signings."
Emma huffed, knowing she was defeated. "Fine, fine, I'll do the book signings."
"Great! Sit tight, go enjoy yourself with your man, or whatever, and I'll call you soon."
Joan hung up, and for the first time in a week, Emma's mind drifted back to Colin. She knew she could possibly turn up at his house, and talk to him, but she was rather embarrassed. What if he didn't care to see her, or worse, if he thought she was bad in bed? What if he had already forgotten about her? She wouldn't be able to stand the humiliation.
No, it was better that she stayed away. Still, she couldn't help but wonder if he had thought about her at all.