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As a romance novelist, I'm facing my worst nightmare-writer's block.No matter what I write, I hit delete, knowing it's not worth publishing. The future of my career rests on the success of this new book.So, here I am, looking at Tumblr, desperate for inspiration, when I hear a thumping. Annoyed by the music blaring through the walls, I barge into the hall and bang on my neighbor's door.My very hot, very naughty neighbor, Jake Morreau.Jake is romantic, charming, and the bane of my existence. I need to work, yet he refuses to let me.When he greets me in the hallway, ideas of a sinfully hot hero come to mind.When he takes me out on the town, the words flow as soon as I come home.The more time I spend with this entertaining and quick-witted man, the more I'm able to write.My neighbor is my muse, and before I know it, I slowly become the heroine of my own story, but I don't know how to end it.As I write the epilogue, I'm afraid our romance won't pan out as I've written.Jake Morreau is my hero.Then again, in my life, heroes don't exist.