QUOTE : Later, as they sat at one another’s elbows, eating dinner at the employee house where they lived, Roan detected a subtle sense of happiness around Shiloh. Again, nothing obvious, but his operator’s senses told him that. “You said you were writing a chapter? On your latest book? The one that’s due to your editor’s desk?”<br /><br />“Yes.” She shrugged. “I woke up this morning WANTING to write for the first time since coming here.” She met his gray gaze, seeing interest in them. Roan, she was discovering, missed nothing. He listened to her without ever interrupting her flow of thought. “First time.”<br /><br />“Is this a good thing?” he wondered, adding more spoonfuls of whipped potatoes onto his plate.<br /><br />“Sure is,” she sighed, giving him a look of relief. “I’ve had writer’s block for the last six months. I just haven’t felt the driving passion to write.” She added some green beans onto her plate. “Ever since the stalker came into my life, my writing has turned off.”<br /><br />“Kind of expected?”<br /><br />“I suppose,” Shiloh muttered. “It’s hurt me in so many ways, seen and unseen.”<br /><br />“It’s what we in the military call psy ops or psychological warfare.