What have I been up too..

Good question now 

I am officially self publishing this book.  So excited.   I am also half way through Shadow Games...by the end of the month!!


I am also working on a young adult novel. I wont be publishing that title under this name but I will let you know when it is out.  It is a MF combination. Not really a love story more humorous than anything the working title is How I Got My Pet Zombie.


Till then enjoy your summer and keep reading.

Author Zayne Michaels

zayemichaels@gmail.com

WEBSITE | BLOG | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | PURGATORY

Moving to Shadow Hills was supposed to be the start of a new life for Lachlan MacAuley, and for a while, the sleepy little town provided exactly what he’d been seeking. His debut novel had soared to the top of the bestseller charts, and each subsequent book only boosted his popularity. Though he had more imaginary friends than real ones, he was happy, finally living his dream as a published author.

Then, in one tragic moment, everything changed.

Xeno knows the rules. He knows the risks of bringing a human into his world, but when he meets Lachlan at the local coffeehouse, he can’t deny there’s something between them. The connection goes deeper than mere physical attraction, though, and more than anything, he wants to mend the broken author and help to pick up the shattered remains of his life.

So many obstacles stand between them and their happy ending, but if they can learn to lean on one another, believe they can trust again, it may just be a holiday they’ll never forget.

Buy Now From: 

Amazon | ARe | B&N

"Ms Michaels does an amazing job of bringing me, the reader, into this story making me feel so connected that I never wanted it to end. I love the emotional connection I had to the characters, the love I felt jumping off the pages and the hotter than sin sex that is the icing on a story I will not soon forget. This book is going on my keeper shelf."

Chapter One

The alluring scent of brewed coffee and freshly baked cinnamon buns wafted through the small corner café. Coffeehouses of all sizes and varying degrees of popularity littered the art district in Shadow Hills, but Brew Ha Ha offered a very inspirational environment. The free wireless internet, the dim, intimate lighting, and the secluded corners with large, squashy chairs provided the perfect writer’s paradise.

Every morning for nearly two years, Lachlan MacAuley had packed his laptop, his notebooks, and his hopes and dreams in a battered messenger bag. Then he’d walk the three blocks to Brew Ha Ha, order a non-fat, no foam salted caramel macchiato, and commandeer his favorite armchair in the back of the café. And every morning for the past six months, he’d sat in that chair and stared at the blinking curser on his screen while crickets chirped inside his head.

That first year had been phenomenal, like walking on a cloud. His debut novel, Public Affair, had soared to the top of the bestseller charts, and from there, Lachlan had been unstoppable. If he wasn’t writing, he was thinking about writing. His entire life, he’d dreamed of being a published author, and living the dream proved to be better than anything he could have imagined.

Then everything changed.

The night had started like any other. Lachlan had retreated into his own mind, frantically pounding away at the keyboard and feeling almost giddy as his latest story unfolded right before his eyes. The café had been deserted by the time he’d come up for air, and the baristas had already started their nightly cleanup.

After packing away his portable office and paying the tab for the endless amounts of coffee he’d consumed during his marathon writing session, he’d set out for home, eager to reach his apartment so he could return to his fantasyland. Contemplating his hero’s current predicament and spinning out scenarios of how Sargent Dwayne Moore could swoop in and save the day, Lachlan hadn’t even seen the headlights or heard the blare of the horn from the car that hit him.

The doctors had told him he’d been lucky to survive. The nurses who’d tended to him during his two month hospital stay had commented more than once about his miraculous recovery. His physical therapist had told him not to be surprised if he always needed a cane to walk, but in the same breath, he’d applauded how quickly Lachlan had pulled himself up out of his wheelchair.

Since then, however, he hadn’t been able to write anything, and the longer the words refused to flow, the deeper he sank into depression. Maybe he’d lost the spark. He’d certainly lost the passion of being an author. Unfortunately, he didn’t know how to be anything else.

He had to figure out something soon, though, because writer’s block didn’t pay the rent. The last quarter’s royalties would carry him for a little while, but the money wouldn’t last forever. So, he’d given himself a personal deadline—three weeks, right up to Christmas day—and if he still wasn’t writing by then, he’d start looking for a new job.

“More coffee?”

Dragging himself out of his pity party, Lachlan looked up at the hottie in the apron and grinned. “I could go for another macchiato.”

“You got it.” The barista winked before taking Lachlan’s cup and hustling back behind the counter.

“Hello, inspiration,” Lachlan mumbled to himself as he watched the sexy blond walk away. The baggy denim hid what was most likely a fantastic ass, but the too-tight T-shirt more than made up for it. The gray cotton encased his torso, molding to him like a second skin that hugged every dip, curve, and lean muscle.

A twinge in his left hip reminded Lachlan why he could look, but he’d never get any farther. Men as beautiful as that didn’t go for broken, socially awkward nerds who had more imaginary friends than real ones.

“Here ya are, handsome.” The server returned with an extra-large mug of steamy, creamy goodness. “You’ve been here for a couple of hours, and I noticed you haven’t eaten anything. I asked around, and one of the girls said you like the banana bread.” He flashed a genuine smile as he placed the coffee and bread down on the side table. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“Thank you.” A wave of shyness overwhelmed Lachlan, and he had a hard time not ducking his head and averting his eyes. No one paid attention to him anymore, not unless they were gawking at his limp, but this guy had watched him long enough to know he hadn’t eaten. He should probably be creeped out by the stalkerish behavior, but strangely, he found it kind of sweet. “Are you new here? I haven’t seen you around before.”

“I’ve worked here for a couple of months, but I just switched to second shift yesterday.” He wiped his right hand on the towel slung over his shoulder and offered it to Lachlan. “I’m Xeno.”

“Now that needs to go in a book.” Lachlan took Xeno’s hand and squeezed, but he let go quickly, placing his hand back in his lap to hide its shaking.

“You’re an author?” Xeno’s eyes lit up, and he looked like he might wet himself with excitement. “Can I ask what you write? Or is that rude?”

A quiet chuckle, the first real one he’d uttered in months, rolled through Lachlan’s chest and up through his lips. “I don’t mind. I’m Lachlan, by the way.” While he didn’t advertise what he wrote, he’d never been ashamed of it, either. “I write gay erotic romance.” Then he sat back and waited for Xeno’s reaction.

“Really? I mean, you’re published and everything?”

“And everything,” Lachlan confirmed around more laughter. “So I guess this means you’re not going to kick me out on my ass.”

“Are you kidding? That is so cool.” His bright green eyes practically glowed, and he danced from foot to foot, clearly wanting to interrogate Lachlan further. “Hey, I have a break in ten minutes. Would you mind some company?”

“Not at all. I’ll be right here.” His heart pounded too fast, and the tension in his muscles made his hip hurt like the ten shades of hell. To pass up an opportunity like this, even if the guy was only interested in him for his books, would be stupid, though. Lachlan had been accused of a lot of things, but never of stupidity.

“Awesome.” Xeno started to leave, but he paused and glanced back over his shoulder. “Oh, um, out of curiosity. What’s your last name?”

“MacAuley. Lachlan MacAuley.”

* * * *

“Okay, don’t freak out. Don’t be lame.” Gripping the porcelain edges of the small sink in the employee bathroom, Xeno stared into the mirror and tried not to giggle like a damn schoolgirl. “Holy fuck, it’s really him.” He squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head. “Stop it. Just be cool.”

Though he’d read thousands of gay romance novels over the years, something about Public Affair, had spoken to him. It wasn’t just that he connected with the characters. He became the characters. Every heartbreak, disappointment, victory, and celebration the men in that book experienced, Xeno lived it right along with them.

After that, he’d snatched up every Lachlan MacAuley title he could get his hands on. He stalked Lachlan’s website, always checking to see what the man had coming up next and what he’d be working on in the months to come. Every new release felt like Christmas morning, and Xeno devoured every chapter, every scene, and every sentence with inappropriate enthusiasm.

Now, the man had just agreed to a date with him. Okay, maybe it wasn’t a date date, but that didn’t make him any less nervous. And good gods, did the man have to be just as handsome and charming as the heroes in his books?  With high cheekbones, dazzling blue eyes, and a gorgeous head of thick, brown hair, Lachlan looked more suited to the Hollywood limelight than hiding behind a keyboard.

“Okay, you can do this. He’s just like any other guy, right?” Xeno nodded to his reflection, took a deep breath, and pasted a smile on his face. “Right.”

Not wanting to appear too eager, however, he washed his hands and face, tamed his unruly spikes, and smoothed the front of his T-shirt. Then he stopped by the counter before returning to Lachlan’s corner of the café to order two more coffees and a few more slices of banana bread.

“It’s good to see him smiling again.” Myah pushed the tray toward him as she tilted her head in Lachlan’s direction. “Just don’t ask about his cane, okay? He’s kind of sensitive about it.”

“What cane?”

“Exactly.” She leveled a pointed glare on him before waving him away. “Go have fun and behave yourself.”

Xeno lifted the serving tray as he wiggled his eyebrows. “I always do.”

“You’re back.” Lachlan’s eyes widened, and he nearly knocked over his coffee mug when Xeno approached him.

“You sound surprised. Did you doubt me?”

“Honestly?” Ducking his head, he peeked up at Xeno through long, dark lashes and shrugged. “Yes.”

“Well, shame on you.” Flashing a bright grin to soften the chastisement, Xeno sat the tray down on the round table beside Lachlan and settled into the unoccupied chair on the other side. “I’m not disturbing you, am I? I mean, if you’re working, I can get lost.”

“No, no, you’re not bothering me.” Leaning back against the cushions, Lachlan crossed one leg over the other and folded his hands in his lap. “So are you an aspiring author? Is that why you wanted to talk to me? I’m no expert, but I can give you some tips.”

“An aspiring…” Trailing off into laughter, Xeno didn’t think he’d ever heard anything so absurd. “No, no, I’m not creative enough to be a writer.”

“Oh.” Lachlan’s brow furrowed, and his lips thinned into a straight line. “I–I’m sorry. I guess I don’t understand.”

Bless his heart, he really was adorable. “Lachlan, I’m a huge fan of your work. I just wanted a chance to talk to my favorite author. No ulterior motive, I promise.” Part of him did want to question the man about his lack of new books in the past several months, but he tempered his curiosity. The creative process was a fickle thing, or so he’d heard.

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed you, well, you know.”

“What? Know how to read?”

“No, of course not, that’s not what I meant.” Lachlan covered his face with both hands, but the act didn’t completely hide the blush that crept into his cheeks. Dropping his hands, he breathed in deeply through his nose and attempted a wobbly smile. “I wouldn’t have guessed you were gay.”

“You mean until I open my mouth and my stilettos fall out?”

Gods, the guy had a great laugh, and his smile brightened the entire room. It sounded rusty and a little unused, but it still caused Xeno’s heart to flutter. It didn’t, however, mask the squint in his eyes or the way his lips twisted into subtle grimace.

Sitting up straighter, Lachlan repositioned in his seat so that he could straighten out his right leg. “Tell me, Xeno, do you have a last name?”

“Shadowhill.”

“Like the name of the town.” Lachlan nodded as though this made perfect sense. “Any relation to the first settlers?”

He and his family had been the first to settle in Shadow Hills, but he couldn’t tell Lachlan that. The guy would never believe him, and besides, telling him would break the golden rule set forth by the Elders of their race. Under no circumstances were humans allowed to know about their world. Things had been that way for two thousand years, and Xeno imagined they’d continue to be that way for two thousand more.

“Um, you know, I’m not sure. I’ve never really been a history buff.” Damn, he hated lying, but he couldn’t change the rules. “What about you? How long have you lived here?”

“I grew up in Virginia, have lived here all my life, but I just moved to Shadow Hills three years ago. My mom remarried and moved to California.” Lachlan grimaced again and rubbed at his right thigh. “I don’t have any other family, nothing tying me to Norfolk. I wanted a nice quiet place to write, and Shadow Hills fit that bill.”

“Norfolk? Military family?”

“Yeah, my dad was Navy. After he died, we just kind of stayed there, ya know?” Lachlan bent his knee and turned in his seat, but he seemed to be having a hard time getting comfortable. “Enough about me, though. Tell me something about you, something unique.”

I’m a dreamwalking werewolf. It didn’t get much more unique than that, but Lachlan would either think him insane or laugh right in his face. “My favorite color is hot pink.”

“Boring.” Lachlan tapped his lips and pretended to yawn. “My favorite color is purple. Tell me something else.”

“Last year, I went to a Halloween party as Cinderella.”

“College jocks do that for fun. Try again.”

Leaning forward in his chair, Xeno propped his chin up in his hand and smirked. “You’re a tough sale, Mr. MacAuley. I don’t know. Maybe I’m not unique.”

“I doubt that. I think you’re pretty damn special.” It didn’t take Lachlan long to realize what he’d said, and when he did, his cheeks reddened once again. Clearing his throat, he hastened to change the subject. “Tell me something you haven’t told anyone else.”

“Okay, okay, I got one for you.” Leaning even closer, he glanced around to make sure no one would overhear him. “I got this job because I slept with the manager.”

“You little slut.” Lachlan’s eyes crinkled in the corners and his nose scrunched when he smiled.

“In my defense, I didn’t sleep with him just to get the job.” Hell, he hadn’t even been looking for a job at the time. However, when the opportunity presented itself one night when they were both naked, sweating, and panting, Xeno hadn’t hesitated to jump at it. “Okay, you’re turn. Tell me something you haven’t told anyone else.”

Several seconds passed in silence while Lachlan fidgeted with the strap on his messenger bag. “I don’t really sleep anymore.” He spoke in quiet monotones, and he wouldn’t look Xeno in the eyes. “I don’t like the dark.” Turning his head to the side, his gaze flickered toward the window and his shoulders tensed. “I need to go.”

Xeno didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing, but his chest constricted at the hollow look in the man’s eyes. What happened to you? “Okay, well, I work second shift again tomorrow. Will I see you then?”

“Maybe,” Lachlan answered while he tucked his laptop into his bag and slung the strap over his shoulder. “I have an appointment tomorrow.”

Curiosity ate away at him, but Xeno didn’t know the man well enough to pry into his personal life. “I should get back to work, but I hope I see you again. Take care, Lachlan.”

“Yes. No. I mean, I…I don’t know.” The sweet, shy man Xeno had shared coffee with just a moment before had turned into a distracted, frantic mess. Pulling a long black walking stick out from behind the chair, he curled his fingers around the silver knob at the end and leaned heavily against it. “I have to go.” Without further comment, without even looking in Xeno’s direction, Lachlan hurried toward the exit as fast as his limp would allow.

Gathering the dishes and trash from the table, Xeno carried the tray back to the front counter while he contemplated the odd behavior. “Is he always like that?”

“Like what?” Myah propped one hip on the counter and cocked her head to the side, causing her blond ponytail to bounce.

“I thought things were going well, but then he started acting all weird. Next thing I know, he’s practically running out of the door.”

“Lachlan doesn’t go out after dark, not since the accident.” Sucking her bottom lip between her teeth, Myah’s expression clouded as she stared through the door to the darkening sky beyond. “I hope he’ll be okay.”

“Wait, back up. What accident?”

“It happened at the beginning of the year. He was crossing the street and this car just came out of nowhere. Everyone says he’s lucky to be alive, but Lachlan hasn’t been the same since it happened.”

The constant shifting, the pained grimaces, the cane, the fear of the dark—it all made sense now. “Myah, will you cover for me? I have something I need to do.”

Out of the Shadows

Out of the Shadows is now available at the following retail outlets

B&N link: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/out-of-the-shadows-kalista-kyle/1117601431?ean=2940148963790


 ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-outoftheshadows-1369234-340.html
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/385278


Let me know what you think of Josh, and his mate Caleb. Do you want more? 

Kali 

Up coming stuff

Hi!

 I know it has been a while since I have blogged and kept you up to date on things.  The up coming year has a lot of new things in store for me.  I have Cupid Inc coming up, my story in this multi author series is called Practically Magic. Your gonna meet a pixie who is lonely and looking for a date for Valentines Day.  Cheryl Dragon, Zayne Michaels and Skye Dragen all have their own stories to contribute. I think you will find it a lot of fun for Valentines Day.

I am working on Shadow Games the sequel to Out of the Shadows. Heath is going to meet his mate in this book.  Would you like to name the mate? If so stay tuned to Gabrielle Evan's blog in January, I have a contest there where you can name him.


I have another appearance December 11th at Joey W. Hill's blog party on face book. I hope to see you there.

What are some of your plans this holiday season?

Zayne Michaels

zaynemichaels@gmail.com

WEBSITE | BLOG | FACEBOOK

Zayne Michaels is a small-town girl who grew up and ran off to the big city. She currently resides in the Midwest where she spends her days dreaming up dark, sexy adventures in between soccer games and the never-ending pile of laundry.

Zayne's fascination with old and discarded treasures has always been a source of inspiration for her tales. From antique clocks to old, dilapidated houses, her imagination turns to the "what ifs" and "what used to bes."

Maybe this love for the abandoned is why she is a firm advocate of second chances, or perhaps she's just a little crazy. Whatever the reason, Zayne believes everyone chooses their own path, creates their own destiny, and is the author of their own story.

BLOOD RED

Once Upon a Midnight Moon

Available Now From Amazon!

Declan Collins never wanted to be a vampire. He certainly never wanted to be a pawn in his Maker’s games of cat and mouse. When their hunt for a rare and elusive breed of werewolf leads them straight to Declan’s mate, however, it’s game over.

Lincoln Chastain never imagined the infamous Red Siren would turn out to be his intended. He can’t deny the attraction between them, but nor can he allow a pretty face to distract him from his quest for retribution.

Sometimes, things aren’t as black and white as they seem and finding the truth will come with a price. Will the secrets they discover give the mated pair the happy ending they desire? Or will the lies and greed of others destroy them before they’ve even started?

EXCERPT

Lincoln, big badass he professed to be, actually stumbled backward. “What are you doing? Are you…are you seducing me?”

“Depends.” Declan shrugged. “Is it working?”

“Are you doing that siren thing you do?”

“Lincoln, I’m not actually a siren. I’m a muse.” Adding a little extra sway to his hips, he gripped the hem of his oversized sweater—Lincoln’s sweater to be exact—and slid the fabric up his torso. “Are you inspired yet, or should I keep going?”

Unlike a siren, a muse didn’t seduce with his voice. When Declan amped up the juju, he secreted pheromones through the exhalation of each breath. These pheromones didn’t create obsessive behaviors but had more of an influential effect, creating a sense of calm, tranquility, and enlightenment. Hence, his ability to inspire creative minds.

In Lincoln’s case, though, he really was just seducing him. Sue me.

“I think it’s working.” Lincoln’s voice dropped an octave and took on a husky quality that sent a shiver of desire down Declan’s spine. “Maybe you should keep going.”

Almost there. Stripping the soft cotton shirt off over his head, he tossed it behind him and smoothed one palm down his flexing abs. “How about now?” Abandoning his powers as a muse, he simply allowed his body to do the talking. “Come on, Lincoln. I’m not so fragile. I promise I won’t break.”

“I think I’m starting to feel something.” His hand went to his groin to cup his swelling cock. “Yeah, definitely feeling something in this general region.”

Declan tugged the string on his sleep pants, loosening the waistband so that the fabric slid down his hips. “And now?”

Lincoln’s control finally snapped, and he took two long strides to close the gap between them, wrapping Declan in his strong, capable arms. Game over, cowboy. Oh, Declan did love winning.

“You make me crazy, angel.”

The heat pouring from his mate scorched him, but he reveled in the burn. No one had ever wanted him like Lincoln wanted him—pure, true, and without reservation. Okay, maybe with a little reservation, but he felt they were moving past that.

Fisting one hand in Declan’s hair, Lincoln jerked his head back on his shoulders and laid siege to his mouth, coming up long minutes later to gasp for breath. “This probably won’t end well.”

“Probably not,” Declan agreed.

Sure, the idea of a real relationship scared the hell out of him. He could crawl back to Cashel if things didn’t work out with Lincoln, but frankly, the idea held no appeal. He didn’t hate Cashel necessarily, but nor did he want to continue to be someone’s puppet. Things weren’t like that with Lincoln. Declan never had to worry that the next order would be the one that finally broke him.

The silence stretched on while Lincoln considered him, clearly warring with himself over how to proceed. “Be sure, mon bel ange. Be very sure.”

 Yes, he understood the risks, but from where he stood, the benefits far outweighed the potential consequences. “I am.”

A fierce, possessive growl was his only warning before Lincoln lifted him off the floor and encouraged Declan’s legs around his waist. One hand tangled in his hair while the other held a firm grip on his ass, and Lincoln attacked his mouth with an urgency that left Declan’s head spinning.

Their tongues tangled and twined, sliding together in a passionate duel, and Declan moaned in wanton delight as he rocked against his lover. Raw, untainted desire possessed him, and he dug his fingers into Lincoln’s shoulders, desperate to be closer.

The response surprised him, even startled him a bit. He couldn’t catch his breath, but the scary part was he didn’t care. No one had ever elicited this kind of response from him. No one had pushed him so close to the brink with nothing more than a kiss.

“Lincoln, please.” His plea came as a breathy whimper while his mate kissed along the column of his neck. “I can’t wait.” His insides burned like molten lava, and his nerve endings sizzled with every touch.

“Patience, angel,” Lincoln rasped before nipping at his earlobe.

A knock at the door pulled an uncharacteristic growl from Declan’s lips, and Lincoln’s answering chuckle did nothing to improve his mood. “Who the hell is that?”

“My guess would be the delivery guy.”

“Tell him to go away.” Declan was starving, but not for fried rice or egg rolls.

Lincoln scraped his teeth over Declan’s shoulder and laughed again as he spun them toward the door. “Grab my wallet.” He nodded toward the end table beside them.

With a grumbling sigh, Declan leaned to the side to retrieve the wallet, but once upright, he couldn’t resist another taste of his lover’s lips. Lincoln didn’t protest, even sliding his fingers into the waistband of Declan’s cotton pants to skim along his crease as he stumbled toward the front door.

With their mouths still fused together, Lincoln secured Declan with one hand and reached behind him with the other to turn the knob. “Pay the man,” he ordered, grabbing both bags and dropping them to the floor inside the foyer.

Declan threw the wallet at the delivery man’s head, reached over Lincoln’s shoulder, and slammed the door before returning to his task with a needy groan. Threading his fingers through his lover’s hair, he delved between Lincoln’s lips, leaving no crevice unexplored.

“Now?” he begged. His dick ached, throbbing painfully between his thighs as he rocked against his mate’s cobblestone abs like a bitch in heat.

“Now,” Lincoln rumbled in response, tripping toward the sofa and virtually throwing Declan down on the cushions.

Rummaging through the drawer of the end table while he attempted to undress himself one-handed, Lincoln proved to be the ultimate multi-tasker. Though distracted by the sight of his lover’s long, thick cock, Declan still had enough sense about him to question the availability of the lube Lincoln tossed onto the couch beside him.

“You keep lube in the living room?” He held up the clear, plastic bottle and arched an eyebrow.

“I live alone,” Lincoln answered as he dove on top of him, insinuating himself between Declan’s legs. “Where else do you think I watch porn?”

Behind the Scenes

Q: What do you feel is the hardest part of the writing process?

Knowing when to let go. With every story, I always think there is something that could be just a little bit better. I could spend forever tweaking my stories if I don’t stop myself, and then they’d never see the light of day.

Q: How do you keep your characters and stories organized?

Whiteboards, spreadsheets, notes, tables, and just about anything else I can find to write on. Plus, my betas are amazing at keeping me organized and on track.

Q: Are you plot or character driven? Please elaborate.

That’s a hard one, and I really think it depends on the story. If the characters come to me first, the story tends to follow the personality of the characters. If I get an idea for a storyline before the characters come to me, then that book is normally more plot driven. I suppose you could say I’m versatile.

Q: What is the one thing you must have to be able to write?

Re-runs of some of my favorite shows on in the background. I’ve watched them so many times, they don’t distract me. I can’t write when I’m listening to music, and I can’t write with absolute silence. This seems to work for me, though.

Q: Have you ever gotten writer’s block? How do you get past it?

Yes, I absolutely have. Though, I prefer to think of it as writer’s distress. I had stories in my head to be told, but I couldn’t concentrate or focus long enough to get them down on paper. So, I took a leave of absence, if you will, and gave the Muse some time to settle and recharge before diving back into the writing pool.

Q: What are you currently working on? How is it different from other books you’ve written?

Writing as Zayne Michaels is a lot like having another personality. These stories tend to be darker, and things aren’t always tied up in a nice pretty bow. I just finished the second book in the Once Upon a Midnight Moon series, and am currently working on a M/M contemporary.

Q: When is your favorite time of day to write?

I usually take the graveyard shift when it comes to writing. I’m not a morning person, and the earlier I wake up, the longer it seems to take me to get moving. So, I usually sleep during the day and write during the night when everyone else is sleeping.