Author's Note - This is just an idea that wouldn't leave me alone.

Story Note

POV - Nessie

Rated M - Language, Lemons, taboo subject of cheating. (Note - I DO NOT condone cheating. It hurts, and rips people's lives apart. I enjoy being challenged as a writer, and yearn to improve. Taboo subjects are just my thing.)

Summary - Nessie is an aspiring author living in Seattle searching for that next idea which could catapult her into stardom. When one night of heated passion unleashes her imagination, she finds herself in an unlikely situation.

Thank you to the best Beta-Reader a girl could have Mizz-Emz! I don't know what my grammar would do without you!

Disclaimer - It all belongs to Stephenie (except the storyplot)


Writer's Block

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Nessie POV

The Seattle skyline was phasing to a crimson red September night beyond the window of my apartment. I loved Seattle. It was vibrant, loud, eccentric, and everything Forks was not. I moved here shortly after graduation from Forks High School. I was an 18 year old, fresh from an inconsequential town 2 hours north, with big dreams. I came to this little slice of paradise to attend University of Washington with my two brothers, Edward and Emmett. It was our parents, Carlisle and Esme, alma mater, so it was a more of a plan set in stone from the moment of our conception.

I could not complain. University of Washington had an excellent English literature program. Since I was a child, all I wanted was to become an author. I wanted to follow in the footsteps of my literary idols, Homer, Plato, Jane Austen, and Shakespeare. I wanted to write brilliant fiction, and I would do whatever it took. I have been writing since the age of 10 when my teacher asked the class to write a descriptive piece about our last birthday. I thought that writing about my brothers teaching me to play baseball would be a real snooze. So I took myself to that little corner of a writer's mind where the story weaves itself into coherent, vivid images that play like a movie. Suddenly, I had a yard full of screaming 10 year olds running around on a plush carpet of emerald green grass, a table full of colorfully wrapped gifts, and a Transformers (come on, they rocked in the 80s) themed cake. Not Edward's pubescent voice squeaking like a broken violin telling me to swing harder, or Emmett's bolster laughter bouncing off the 100 year old trees in the backyard.

My teacher loved my attempt, but it wasn't enough to earn a gold star for free ice cream at lunch. That honor went to Mike Newton, who described his little Barney theme birthday. Yeah, I am still trying to figure that one out.

After that day, I became hooked on writing. I started practicing more, and more, writing about anything and everything in a home made journal. I wrote about Edward balancing two girlfriends at once, and hoping one didn't castrate him when the secret came to light. I wrote of Emmett's embarrassing description, to Edward, about his first time. It certainly wasn't a conversation I wanted to hear, but we had thin walls. I have enough information to last a life time. Growing up with two older brothers, blackmail is a girl's greatest weapon.

My love of writing led me to being one of the rare college freshmen that knew what they wanted to do. I knew why I was there, and what the outcome of my education would be. I would be a writer. I was enthralled with my classes, and could never quench my thirst for the knowledge.

It is just too bad that knowledge didn't include beating this God forsaken writer's block.

I wasn't paying attention to the brilliant twilight sky of Seattle. I was staring at the blank Word document and the flashing jet-black cursor, which felt more like a ticking time bomb.

Tick, tock, tick, tock....

Molten anger and frustration rose from the bowels of my stomach. I wanted an idea. I needed an idea to present to my boss, Rosalie, tomorrow morning. Otherwise, I could be looking for a new job.

Tick tock, tick, tock… the mockery was finally too much.

"UGH!" I wailed, my mid-soprano voice echoed in the small office. My fists slamming against the deep chestnut desk, rattling my chilled, three-hour-old cup of coffee.

"Jesus Christ, Ness, I heard that outside!" A husky voice flowed from the front door.

I shoved the black leather chair back, swirling to face the doorway, "Well, Emmett, if you heard that, why come inside? What if I had been in here having mind blowing sex?" I quizzed, crossing my arms.

Emmett's hefty frame came into view, in his hands, two chocolate brown cups, his icy blue eyes laughing at me, "Well, your hair certainly looks like that could be true, but Nahuel isn't here," his dimples more prominent, his pink lips curled into a grin as he walked into the office, "Let's get off of the-" he broke off mid-sentence, seeing me properly, "You look like hell!" he teased, the prominent smell of coffee filling my apartment.

My auburn eyebrow erected. I was already in a pissy mood, and I didn't need Emmett's smart-ass mouth today. In fact, I wanted to run to my bedroom and scream into a pillow. I didn't even want to look at my older brother. Emmett possessed a charm that could put global warming to shame. He was very much like a huge teddy bear, and there wasn't a soul in this world that could stay angry at him. Ask our mother.

My jade green eyes turned down to look at the cream carpet.

"Oh come on, you big baby," he said, his foot rocking the chair backwards.

My arms flailed, my hands slapping the leather arm rest in a death grip. "What the hell!" I growled, turning my attention to Emmett.

He frowned, his bottom lip protruding out "I picked up your favorite on the way. Dark Jamaican roast, two packets of Splenda, and enough cream to turn it a mocha color." he offered, extending the cup toward me.

Trying to be angry with Emmett was like trying to tell a 5-year-old Santa isn't real. The annoying and charming little punk. My hardened exterior melted in defeat as I took the cup from him. "Edward is back?" I questioned, rising from the chair, looking at the white bubble domed lid. I could already smell the aroma, my mouth watering for my lightly sweetened addiction.

He shook his head once, sipping his coffee, "Nope, he is in Bermuda until tomorrow. I have to pick him and Bella up from the airport. Alice is running the coffee shop while he is gone. When was the last time you put on make-up?" Emmett snorted.

I huffed with annoyance, my hand slapping his rock hard stomach, "When was the last time you shaved? You remind me of a grizzly bear!" my voice lighthearted now (God damn that charmer), "maybe Brother Edward will come home with a tan." I suggested, lifting the cup to my full lips, sipping the hot liquid.

Emmett threw his head back, a guttural laugh escaping, "He is in paradise...with Bella...for a week. If he comes back with a tan I will kick his ass for not taking advantage of the opportunity!" he paused, sipping his coffee, "speaking of travel, where is Nahuel this week?" he said, his voice changing, dripping with disdain.

Emmett never hid the fact that he disliked my boyfriend. Nahuel was kind, giving, and everything a girl could want in a man. The only problem was that he is a traveling medical salesperson, who spent more time on the road than home with me. It takes a strong woman to understand the nature of the job. And an even stronger woman to come to terms with the lack of a sex life. Despite the melancholy interior of Nahuel, Emmett always reminded me I could, and should, do better. Emmett was my biggest protector.

I inhaled deeply, pressing my palm to my hip, "He is in New York," I answered, indifferent to watching Emmett's ice blue eyes roll into his sockets, "Come on Em…Nahuel is one of the good guys." I defended, wondering if the effort was even worth it anymore.

Emmett snorted again, shifting his weight to the left, "A good guy doesn't leave his one and only sitting home alone for weeks on end."

I knew my brother meant well, but it didn't extinguish my souring mood, "Look, he isn't perfect but its part of his job. I knew what I was getting into when we started the relationship. It's just different…I…I love him, okay? If dad can like him, so can you," I declared, my voice soft, looking into the pools of blue for his approval.

Emmett sighed, throwing his arm over my shoulder, pulling me into a brotherly embrace, "I just want you to be happy, Ness. You aren't happy. Dad set you up with him, remember? It's why Nahuel was invited to family dinner anyway."

"I am happy," I growled, shimmying out of his embrace. I would never admit it to Emmett, but I questioned my happiness as well, "can we just change the subject?" I chagrined, taking another sip of coffee.

"Whatever. Why the tantrum?" Emmett questioned, stepping closer to the red laptop for a better look.

I ran my fingers through my disheveled bronze tresses, "Writer's block. Rosalie shredded the last idea I proposed, and she wants another one by tomorrow." I answered.

Emmett pivoted to face me, his eyes narrowed to slits, his eyebrows ruffled, "Shredded? Like, she literally shredded it?" he questioned in disbelief.

I sighed heavily, remembering my latest manuscript in Rosalie's perfectly manicured hands. How perfectly she flipped her slender wrist feeding each page to the noisy beast. She may as well have cracked my chest open and ripped out my beating heart. All of the hard work, endless nights without sleep, my blood (fucking paper cut), passion, and heart. I poured it into my first chapter, and she poured it into the shredder. I could feel the lump rebuilding at the back of my throat.

I nodded once.

Emmett's face softened, "Let me talk to her, ma-"

I cut him off, waving my hands in defense, "Don't you dare, Emmett. This is one thing you cannot fix for me. I just need to get back to work." I stated, putting my coffee on the desk.

Emmett pulled the leather chair across the room, "From the looks of it, you have been working all weekend. I don't get it anyway. You sit for hours and hours staring at a screen. How hard could it be to just write?" Emmett shrugged.

"How hard?!" I squealed (okay that was over-dramatic), "It's a process, Em. I can't just plop down and my mind magically paints the picture. I have to come up with a main plot line, sub plots, characters, the character biographies, the structure of the story, rising and falling climaxes and outlines. I have to make sure the flow is great, and the writing shows rather than tells. After I do all of that, I have to perfect everything before I can submit it. It's harder than you think."

Emmett's eyes were glazed over, "Okay, okay. Jeez, calm down you nerd. Look, maybe the problem is that you never leave this place." My arms crossed over my chest, looking at Emmett incredulously, "What do you mean?" I questioned, curiously. I was interested in Emmett's possible advice. Despite the lovingly warm, asinine thorn in my side that he was, he was great at heartfelt advice. Especially when it came to me, his lovingly stubborn, apple of his eye, little sister.

Emmett must have taken notice at my interest since he put his coffee down. He was ready to use arm expression to drive home his point, "Nessie, you stay cooped up in this place" -his arms outstretched pointing around the apartment- "alone. The only time you leave is to meet with Rosalie, have coffee with Edward and myself, or head to Leah's bar." -Lifting a finger for each example- "maybe you need to get out. Walk around the city, or head down to the sound. Why don't you get a shower, seriously, I could smell you outside, and we can grab dinner." he finished, crossing his boulder sized arms over his chest.

I groaned inwardly. He was right, again, but I wouldn't admit it to his face, again. I did confine myself to my small, but comfortable, apartment for days. It wasn't out of depression, or callus feelings that arose when Nahuel leaves. Rather, everyone I knew had a life. Edward has his prized coffee shop that he built from the ground up, and his girlfriend Bella, who adored him. Emmett was usually busy preparing for his weekly broadcast for the Seattle Seahawks game. He also had that fridged bitch, Rosalie. I had my writing and my ever growing absent Nahuel.

Dinner with Emmett was something I needed. But…

"Shit!" I yelped, running from the room, across the living room, to my bedroom.

"Oh, tell me you went to the bathroom this weekend." Emmett laughed, following behind me to the door-frame of my room.

I paused from ripping an outfit from the closet, "Dude…is there a name for what is wrong with you?" I asked, looking to my brother, "Leah invited me to dinner tonight. She is having a get together with a few friends from the reservation." I divulged, yanking at a pair of dark wash jeans and a cream colored V-neck shirt.

Emmett's face dropped, "I guess that's a no." he pivoted back to the living room.

"Oh Em!" I called, following behind him, "What about a rain check?" I smiled sweetly, poking one of his dimples.

Emmett turned away ignoring my attempt.

"Oh, come on, you big baby," I fired at him, my voice laced with sarcasm. I pressed my head against his thick shoulder. Emmett had charm, but so did I. I knew how to use it well, although I wasn't as gifted as my big brother. "Forgive me?" I mewed, turning my green eyes to his face.

Emmett groaned, putting his arm over my shoulders, "You are getting better at that. You aren't as good as me, but better." He said, slapping my arm twice, planting a kiss on my forehead, "A rain check it is. Edward and I are meeting at Renata's Italiano Tuesday night, 7:00. Be there or I will come here and drag you out myself. Deal?"

I laughed, nodding once, "Deal. I just can't wait to hear about Bermuda over a bowl of pasta." I joked, sticking a finger down my throat for added measure.

Emmett snorted, "Just promise to be careful tonight," his voice filled with concern as he released me.

I loved how protective my brother was of me. He always reminded me that someone really did care, "I always am." I reassured, patting between his shoulder blades, "Thank you for the coffee, and…the advice. Now go so I can get ready." I kissed his cheek, lightly pulling him down the small hall leading to the front door.

Emmett pulled the silver knob opening the door, releasing me, "Love you Ness. Call me when you get back home." he said, walking into the hall.

"Ditto Em." I waved, the door closing behind him.

The overwhelming silence surrounded me again like a thick black smoke. I hated the silence. It reminded me of how alone I felt at times. Despite the love issued to me by friends and family, there was still something missing. Something that left with Nahuel every time, as his business trips increased in duration.

I shrugged away the growing ringing in my ears, like a thousand bees swarming in my head, and headed to the bathroom.


So what do you think? Is it crap? Is it great? Promising? Hit that review button and let me know! Don't worry I know how to use a fire extinquisher for flames.