Case in point: I haven't even handed The Indian Princess off to my agent yet, and I've already got 15,000 words done on another book, tentatively titled The Wannabe Cowboy, and I've got 7,000 words done on the follow-up to The Mystic Cowboy (A reoccurring 'Cowboy' title theme? Know your target audience!), called The Man Called Nobody. (Yes, it's a shout out to one of my all time fav-rave cowboys, Clint, but my character's name actually is Nobody.)
Plus, (I can hear you saying out loud, plus??) I'm mentally churning through the follow-up to The Wannabe Cowboy, (really) tentatively called The Wannabe Indian. There may be a third Wannabe book out there, but it has not yet chosen to fully reveal itself to me as of yet. And I have another book waiting to be written, too--a complete reboot of an earlier book I wrote that is currently gathering dust on a shelf. Basically, the names and the characters' occupations would be the same. Just about everything else would be different.
Yes. I'm an anomaly. I'm comfortable with who I am.
So that's two WIP, and two more in the chute. Toss in some freelance jobs and my grandmother Goldie's WIP, Eleanore Gray, and that should keep me off the streets until there's a lot of snow on the ground.
So, in advance, I'd like thank/apologize to my mother (Hi, Mom!), the Lovely Mary (Grammar Goddess), and Laurel Levy (beta reader extraordinaire) for all their hard work/tolerance of this onslaught of cowboy-based literature.
Ladies, I'm going to make the next cowboy extra-hunky, just for you.