So this had started out as a small idea as a birthday gift for my friend but then spiraled out of control. I wanna thank @captainswanbigbang that gave me this opportunity to finally complete this piece.
Lots of gratitude and love for Nicola ( @alocin209 ) for beta reading, providing insights and being patient throughout the craziness of my schedule. Thank you so much for this. It was such a joy interacting with you.
And a huge shout out to Sophie ( @shady-swan-jones ) for selecting this story to bestow her creativity. I have been a huge admirer of her art and working with her was such a beautiful experience. Thank You So Much.
Summary:
Killian Jones was one story away from establishing himself as a successful writer – that is what his publisher said and he completely believed it. He knew he should be pouring his heart out but his muse had other ideas, it seemed.
Emma Swan used to love her job but the monotony of the routine had finally caught up with her and she no longer enjoyed the job she once loved.
Can the two lost souls find what they were looking for when they meet each other at a restaurant and end up striking a deal that could change how they were?
The fierceness with which Killian was hitting the keys of his laptop instantly transported him to his college days when a paper was due. Or the time when he was writing his first novel and his muse had generously bestowed him with its presence. In both instances he had been in the same place, the corner booth of Granny’s bistro, where he could surreptitiously watch everyone. He loved the place, having spent years harboring the dream to make it big in the literary world. He’d thought he made it back then, he’d reached out and grabbed his dream. Now, he wasn’t so sure he’d made it at all.
He hit the Backspace button again, annihilating his last hours hard work. It just didn’t fit. He groaned in frustration, running his fingers through his hair. It had been almost a year since he had last published but Robin, his publisher/manager, insisted that he start working again. According to him, Killian needed just one more bestseller to carve his niche in the cutthroat world of writing. While Killian couldn’t help but agree, it didn’t mean that he was happy about it. He loved writing – fleshing out characters, charting down their minute traits that made them them, and then finally breathing life in the roles he had envisioned. He just hated the times when the slippery muse would desert him and it was happening more nowadays. He sighed, rubbing his face in frustration when a cappuccino with a smiley face was put in front of him.
“Thanks Granny,” Killian smiled. He was agitated, frustrated beyond measures but somehow the old woman always made him smile.
“It seemed like you needed it,” she spoke, a twinkle in her eye as she sat next to him.
It All Starts With a Dance 