It has been almost 18 months since I wrote something new. (I finished the first draft of Seven Days in fall of 2011.) Now as I work on my next book I am reminded of one of the reasons why I love to write. I love the moments in writing where the characters seem to write themselves. It means that they have become real enough that I am telling someone else's story, rather than manufacturing fiction. In times like this the book flows naturally and I hardly need to think, because the imagery just cascades onto the screen. Sometimes it is too fast for me to type, and I have to pause to write notes of what is coming in the next few paragraphs or pages. Then as I finish a chapter feeling great about what I have accomplished, I feel a rush of gratitude that I have enough readers that I can do this full-time. So thank you, readers and fans, for giving me a job that I love.