August 31, 2014
Season finale for Defiance… sooooo good. Seriously, I hope
it gets renewed. Without giving away too many spoilers, I kind of loved where
some of the characters ended up. I'm kind of on the fence about Amanda, but
won't say more to avoid spilling anything.
The Walking Dead is almost ready to premiere and Sons of Anarchy rides next week. Makes
waiting for Arrow's return in October
worth it. Also looking forward to Sleepy
Hollow and Gotham. Crossing my
fingers FOX won't muck either of those shows up too much.
Enough TV for now.
Tonight's post is from Follow Me, the first book in an epic space opera
trilogy. Oddly enough, it's one of my longest, too. Clocks in at close to 100K.
I'm working on the second draft at this point, but won't submit or publish
until the third book is complete. It's sitting at the halfway mark.
Here's the tagline:
A 'will they' or 'won't they' wager spur Molly and Sloan to
see how long they 'can' without getting caught.
And a sneaky peek…
Battlecruiser
MacGregor—Corridor 9, Deck B
Drunk and stumbling…
a ten-hour marathon Tripola game would get a person nothing but drunk and
stumbling.
Especially when it
included drinking the Chief's Brew… high octane, created-in-a-still alcohol
made with loving care by the master chief of the flight deck, Keegan Douglas.
His ass would shortly be in a sling if the hangover Lieutenant Molly Ryan
figured she'd get actually kicked in.
She took another
dodgy step forward and decided Keegan should be referred to as 'Evil Genius'
instead of the usual title of 'Chief'. No one knew what he put into the
moonshine he cooked up but she could practically picture him standing over the
still, hair standing up all over the place, mad-scientist style, rubbing his
hands together with maniacal glee. The thought alone kept a grin on Molly's
face.
And there hadn't been
much to smile about lately.
So raking it in at
the card table had been some much needed fun. It felt good to kick back and
enjoy… something. Difficult to do after the world had ended and the MacGregor became the flagship for the
remnants of their scattered society. They'd lost so many… the former CAG,
captain of the air guard, hadn't made it back from the initial battle. He
bought it on the return to the ship, protecting the younger, less skilled
pilots as they made combat landings in preparation for a hyper light jump that
would allow them to flee from the terrible destruction of their world.
Molly regretted his
loss. He'd trained her during flight school and because of her quizzical mind, encouraged
her to certify as a flight instructor. She'd followed his advice and taught for
a couple of years, putting newbies through their paces at the most prestigious
flight academy on the planet. Losing him had been a blow to the fleet, but
being on the run, protecting the civilians from their enemies, and just dealing
with life as they knew it now… the grief got swept aside.
The marathon card
game, played in his honor, had been a much needed distraction. A long, overdue
break and a diversion, one that gave everyone a chance to catch their breath
for a while. The new CAG, Sloan MacNeill, won some huge points for letting them
get away with it.
Of course it helped
he'd been a participant. Getting him drunk didn't hurt either. They were having
a good time, bantering back and forth, and Molly realized she'd missed that.
Hell, she'd missed him. She thanked whatever divine creator existed out there
that Sloan had pulled a TDA, temporary duty assignment, to the MacGregor in time for his father's
birthday celebration.
No one knew it would
be the eve of all hell breaking loose.
Having Sloan around
became one of the only things keeping her sane. Molly didn't make friends
easily; her childhood traveling from city to city with her dad precluded it. In
fact, she kind of gathered acquaintances like she used to collect shoes, but
Sloan was an exception. Even when he had a death grip on her because he
couldn't walk in straight line at the moment.
Not that she did much
better.
"Geez, Molls. I
thought you knew the ship like the back of your hand?"
Molly rolled her
eyes. "Cool your ass, Sloan… I'm working on it." Right. Find a place
to lay low. "Who the hell decided to put the pilot quarters on the
opposite end of the ship from the rec room?" It shouldn't be so difficult
to find a place to chill out until the ship stopped spinning. "We should
have stopped drinking about four hands ago, Sloan." Molly slowed down,
blinked a couple of times and tried not to laugh. They had to look ridiculous,
staggering along the causeways.
Sloan stumbled along
behind her, all but tripping over his feet. "Seriously, Molls. Twirling
lights… not good. Making me dizzy." He closed his eyes, which seemed to
help, and let Molly guide him.
Molly chuckled. She
was definitely the more experienced drinker. But they had overdone it and neither would last much longer in upright
positions.
And the fact they
won't remain upright for long leads to a very interesting development.
That's it for this
week. Catch everyone on the flip.
ML Skye
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