It was supposed to just be a quick trip to Manhattan.
My best friend was heartbroken. She needed support, and I needed inspiration.
I hoped to love the city. Bustling. Crazy. Inspiring New York.
But I ended up at the airport, heading home in the same condition that I arrived.
In a rut.
Add to all that, missing my flight and losing my laptop"the laptop, where the Best Love Story Ever sat on my hard drive.
Enter Noah Steele. Eerily familiar. Movie star. Heartthrob. Sultry romeo with bedroom eyes.
(But we"re not going there.)
He missed his flight too.
Noah is so smoldering, lip-bitingly hot, he"s not taken seriously as an actor, and is struggling to launch his career in New York.
He"s only ever had superficial girlfriends, so he"s having trouble showing true passion in his acting"the same challenge I"m having with this book.
When we met, we didn"t know that our connection would bring us the change we"d been craving.
That we"d be the very thing the other needed and didn"t know.
Each other"s muse.
** MUSE is a complete standalone, no previous reading is necessary to enjoy.Books in Series:Manhattan Series by Katy EvansBooks by Author:Katy Evans Books
To the muse
"On the Loose" " Niall Horan
"Accidentally in Love" " Counting Crows
"Superheroes" " The Script
"Something Just Like This" " Chainsmokers and Coldplay
"Strangers in Love" " Parisian
"Ride" " Lana del Rey
"Open" " Rhye
"One Call Away" " Charlie Puth
"All I Want" " Kodaline
"Too Much to Ask" " Niall Horan
New York can be a cruel, cruel city.
To me, anyway.
I came here to cheer up my best friend, Bryn, who was going through a bad breakup.
But now she"s back with her man. Mission accomplished. Yes!
I also wanted to research and finish my romance novel.
I just didn"t.
Why" Because I suck. I didn"t really do much of anything. Except if you count wondering why my muse wouldn"t cooperate.
I did that a lot.
Now I"m heading back home, hoping that my bitch muse will come back and get playing.
Keep talking to me like that and I"m leaving for good, I can almost hear Bitch Muse say.
Sighing as I get my last good glimpse of the city I barely tasted, I spot my Uber pulling over and haul my suitcase to the curb.
The driver steps out to grab my luggage and puts it inside the trunk.
I climb in the back, and we"re on our way to JFK. I drink in as much as I can of the busy streets that chewed me up and spit me out as we head out of the city. Manhattan. The Big Apple. New Fucking York.
I"d really wanted to explore. See the sights. Get some inspiration. I"m in the middle of my book"aka Best Love Story Ever"and I got stuck when the characters fought. It"s the big black moment, and I made it happen. I know, I"m so proud. I"m God in my own little world, which I love.
But now I have no idea how to fix it, to draw them out of the big black pit of despair. Ben, my hero, is acting like an asshole. Leia, my heroine, is a pain in my ass. I was sure that going out and absorbing a city like New York would cure me of anything, especially writer"s block.
But Bryn was too busy with the launch of her House of Sass enterprise. Her roommate Sara has been banging some rich mogul dude and hardly came home. I was certain that a big girl like me, independent and with her pants strapped on correctly, would have no trouble going out on her own exploring Manhattan.
Well, I did. I rented myself a hotel room for two weeks and went out and explored.
And got lost when I went to Chelsea, to the Meatpacking District.
I got yelled at by cab drivers, passersby, and even some stupid barista at a caf" when I couldn"t decide what I wanted to eat in a second flat.
Turns out, things move really fast in this city. I felt humiliated, confused, and in the end, wondered if I was the same girl that thought she had her pants on straight when she left Austin.
This city" It doesn"t seem to think I"ve got on anything straight, from my pants to my brain.
Truth is, I"m not sure I like New York. It just wasn"t what I expected, it didn"t give me what I needed"and I"m pretty sure New York doesn"t like me back.
Checking my phone for messages (I"ve got nil), I suppose it"ll be a good thing to go back home. Maybe being away from the grind will make me appreciate it more.
I miss my cat Tibby, and I also miss the quiet. It"s noisy here, so noisy it"s hard to hear yourself think. It"s also colder than I like it, definitely colder than in Austin. I miss my usual Starbucks caf" where the barista greets me with a smile and always knows what I want and has it ready by the time I walk in and head to my writing corner. Except my writing corner has been uninspiring lately"and my well, yes, my BITCH muse hasn"t shown up since I somehow fabricated this whole dramatic black moment between stupid Ben and stupid Leia. Ugh.
On my way home, I text my sister Lily.
Lily: How"s the book" All wrapped up"
Me: HA! More like about to be dumped into the smelliest, closest New York dumpster.
Lily: Haha. You can do it. You were so excited about this trip
Me: Was is the keyword. The city is crazy and I seem to be more incompetent than I"d like to let myself believe. Could hardly go out on my own without getting trampled or nearly run over. It"s a jungle I tell you
Lily: Aww. Well you"ll be home soon. The place you so anxiously wanted to ESCAPE! The one you called your jail!
Me: Whatever. I was being dramatic. That"s what writers do when they can"t figure out their books. They create drama in their own lives from out of nothing. What about you"
Lily: Taking the bar tomorrow. Bleh. Oh! Saw Trevor on Dirty 6th this weekend