The fourth of the seven virtues is diligence: “A zealous and careful nature in one’s actions and work,” according to Wikipedia. This entry was actually a blast to write, as it involves Tempest, the hard-drinking, rabble-rousing saloon singer of my WIP, tell me no lies, and Adam Davenport, the honorable, fastidious, and meticulous detective that falls for her.
The first thing she noticed about him were the buttons lining his coat. They dazzled, reflecting sunlight like tiny stars. Despite the muck of the streets, he was immaculate: trousers pressed, black boots gleaming.
Their affair shouldn’t have lasted. She thrived on chaos; he was infuriatingly meticulous. They screamed and fought, but right now, as pleasure racked her body, she thanked God for his perseverance.
“Good?” His face gleamed with her juices, his grin unrepentant.
She sagged against the bed, boneless, but the bastard only laughed, lowered his head, and returned to work.
Oh, yes. His diligence was worth enduring.