In a book that will end up being 1200 manuscript pages long, there are going to be some walls. I know this. I’ve already written two 90,000-word novels in this book, and I have most of a third to go. But for Talyn to choose now to stall out on me … cruel. I’m in the final third of the book. It’s supposed to be the homestretch. It’s supposed to be that downhill gallop. And instead, I’m pacing in circles and asking myself question after question looking for the one answer that will kick this thing loose again. NOT having fun.