Willing
Fbailey story number 375 Willing I rented the old farmhouse for the summer so that I could become a hermit for three months and write my book. It was perfect. It was out in the middle of nowhere and miles from anyone. The nearest neighbor was at least three miles away. There was electricity, running water, and even a flush toilet. Other than that the place was pretty sparse. There was a fireplace and plenty of wood stacked out back. The best part was no television, no telephone, and no Internet to distract me. I plugged in my computer and started my latest romance novel. My hero was a cowboy set in the late eighteen hundreds, working his farm, and taking care of the ladies on the next farm. In my story there were three …