“Hey, babe! I’m going to the writing cave. I need to knock out at least 1,000 words tonight. Don’t wait up for me,” Kara called to Sam, her husband.

Sam just chuckles, and kisses his wife.

Kara climbs up to the attic space that she transformed into a Pinterest worthy writing cave. She has her inspiration board on the wall next to the window, notes are scattered everywhere, and images of actors and models are taped up around the room with names and notes. This is day three of actually writing on her debut novel. A regency romance meet fantasy.

Kara sits down at her small desk, and opens up her draft.

“Let’s see... where did we leave off?”

Kara scans the last few pages she knocked out the night before, and starts typing, speaking the story aloud as she pecks away.

“Rebeca Havensquare waltzed through the crowded ballroom with Daniel. He has crushed her soft silk slippers several times already. This dance had just began, but she was ready for it to be over. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him. He was quite out of place in Lady Surrey’s ballroom. His hair was long and darker than ink, and he was a good head taller than the people around him. He was just standing at the door to the gardens...”

She continues typing vigorously though the night. Falling asleep in the wee hours of the morning on the couch she sat up in her cave.

“Miss Havensquare, it is time to wake!” Yells a voice Kara didn’t recognize. “Your mother is requiring your presence in 30 minutes in the rose parlor. She expects you to have several morning callers.”

Kara sets up to see a young lady with long red hair pinned up in a tight bun. She was dressed in a simple grey dress buttoned to the neck. “Shit!” Kara though! That lady looks just like Rebeca’s lady’s maid Gwen.

“Your mother insisted you wear your new lavender day dress. She said to me ‘Gwendolyn, be a dear and do not allow my daughter to come down in one of her dark dresses regardless of her excuses.’ I told her I would pass the message along, but I am but your maid, not your governess. You can imagine how well she took that,” the red head chattered while pulling things out of drawers and wardrobes.

What is going on. Kara has no idea how she got to Rebeca’s bed, to Rebeca’s body, but she should have know something was going to happen based on the chuckle her warlock husband let out before she went up to write. Now she knows she just has to suck it up and live through this for however long this “vacation” her husband sent her on would last. At least she will get to see him tonight at the ball.