My editor, who also happens to be my best friend, told me she thinks I write like a prude. That EVERYONE thinks I write like a prude. She made it clear that my next book will not be published if I don’t “spice things up”. Instead of replying calmly, like the “old” Prudence Clearwater would have, I stormed out of her office and told her to go to hell. After a few days spent wallowing, unsure about my future, I decided that I should:

1. Ignore the naysayers and backstabbing.
2. Re-evaluate my inner circle, especially my deceitful BFF.
3. Focus on my writing and figure out where I went wrong.
4. Accept any help I can get, especially from my old college crush, who happens to be a successful book agent and looks like a Viking God.
5. Keep my friendship with the aforementioned Viking God platonic, even when he makes me tingle in all the right places. Or maybe, since I'm not a prude, I should just live a little…and surrender to the charming Ben Hallstrom. What's the worst that could happen?