Coffee mugs decorated her desk. Two of them were half-full. The other three were empty, without a single stain on them. A spent pen lay on her pad, completely exhausted from the effort of creating new plots and characters. Her ink-stained fingers were doing their happy dance on the keyboard, setting the rhythm for a romance novel. Wild, wavy hair, twisted in a large bun, she looked her part. Even the muse looked busy as he licked his paws with concentration.