Sunday Snippet: Wait No More

I hope everyone survived the holiday!

My family had a wonderful day—no traveling, just staying home all nice and cozy with our new tech gear and good food. I watched more holiday television episodes and said good-bye to Matt Smith's Doctor. I'm still not quite settled in with the idea of the new actor, but I'll give him a chance.

Looking forward to my fave shows returning. Almost Human, Sleepy Hollow, Arrow, The Tomorrow People, Walking Dead, Sherlock, and probably a few I’m forgetting at the moment. Currently watching a Farscape marathon on Pivot then switching over to some recorded stuff I haven't watched yet.

Tonight's post is from the novella, Wait No More, featuring two characters that get the chance to re-explore the road not traveled.

Here's the tagline:

Zoey Blythe pushes Cash Mateson out of her life when she sees how much good he can do as an elected official. Ten years later, their paths cross again and Zoey realizes she should have fought a little harder to stay by Cash's side. Heading up the security detail for Cash's campaign, Zoey feels the spark again, but marriages and careers are on the line, even if she doesn't want to wait anymore.

And the sneaky peek…

"Cash. Did you read who your head of security will be?"

Cash Mateson continued working with his tie, trying to decide what type of knot he wanted to attempt. His mentor, dead and buried a week ago, used to do the same before a big speech. Life in the political arena tended to be nothing but.

"Cash?" His wife prompted, waiting a response.

Starting over with the tie, Cash answered. "Not yet. Haven't got started on the morning memos." Satisfied with his appearance, he exited his dressing room.

Delia Mateson perched on the edge of their bed, perfectly dressed, as usual. A frown marred her face and a sinking feeling hit Cash's gut. He dreaded her next words.

"Sub-Commander Zoey Blythe." She rose and almost bumped into him when he sank down, feeling like he'd smacked up against an aerobus.

Her wide eyes met his. "Cash, how do you want to handle this?"

He took a moment, his gaze sweeping over Delia. She looked stunning and the sun had barely broken the horizon yet. Cash let his eyes roam over her trim frame and wished, not for the first time, he loved his wife with passion.

But he didn't. And Delia knew and understood. His lack of abiding feeling didn't stop her from working tirelessly to propel his career forward.

Sometimes he didn't know why she stuck around.

"Cash?"

He blinked. "Yeah, sorry." He rose and grabbed his jacket. "We'll handle it like we do everything else. Head on." He shrugged into the coat and made his way toward the door. He'd fix the tie on the ride to the office.

Delia smiled. "Shall I schedule a time for you to meet with the chief? To make a new choice?" She wrapped a light shawl about her shoulders.

Cash shook his head. "Why bother?" He exited their room and trotted down the stairs.

Delia caught up with him, grabbing his arm. "History, Cash. Think of the backlash if it's dredged up." Her hand slid down and grasped his.

He scoffed. "Ancient history, Deal." Not in the mood, he made a turn toward the kitchen. Coffee sounded great.

Delia followed, unable to let the matter drop. "No such thing as ancient history, Cash. That's what most people are interested in." She poured two mugs, adding sugar to hers.

Cash pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Don't worry about it, Delia. We'll muddle through just fine." He lifted the hot liquid, blowing across the top. "Why rock the boat? Especially if we don't want to make waves." He turned and entered his office, effectively shutting the topic down.

Delia sighed softly. "Because Zoey Blythe is a tsunami waiting to happen… and you still love her."

~:~

Delia nails the problem with complete accuracy. Zoey is the one who got away for Cash and the tidal wave will be unstoppable when they cross paths again. This one has been really fun, but challenging to write. Not sure when I'll complete it, but I think it'll be a good story once it's done.

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flip!

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Victory

December 22, 2013

Happy Almost Holidays!

The family and I are thisclose to being ready for the merry season. We always wait and decorate the tree a day or two before December 25 so the lights are strung, but nothing else until tomorrow. :D

I'm watching holiday episodes of my favorite TV shows. Warehouse 13, Eureka, Doctor Who, and last year's Arrow episode, Year's End. Up next is Leverage with the Ho, Ho, Ho Job. :D

Tonight's post is from Victory, a short story with my main characters seeking to win a wager.

Here's the tagline:

Nevin Fram and Chase Barlow put everything on the line when they wager who can get the drop on the other first with a hot kiss. Nevin's executes a plan to catch Chase during a sparring match but he turns the tables on her and wins. Nevin wants to go double or nothing, but first her brain has to start functioning again.

And the sneaky peek…

Nevin's fist swung out and connected with his jaw.

Chase hit the metal decking, but didn't stay down. Okay, he did. But he brought her to his level, sweeping his leg out and catching her behind the ankles.

She hit the deck ass first. "Well, that was fun." She collapsed back against the bulkhead. "What's next, Chase? You don't look like you've got another round in you."

Chase swiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. "Don't let the injured lip fool you, Nev. And don't think for one moment it'll keep me from finishing this."

Nevin sighed. "Come on, Chase. Admit you've had enough."

He snorted. "Not a chance, Nevin." He rolled to his feet and offered her a hand up.

What the hell… she accepted, figuring he'd need at least five more minutes before he could pick up where they left off. She should have known better. Chase yanked her forward, his hot mouth meeting hers in a hard, unrelenting kiss.

Son of a bitch… he'd won the bet. She'd have to pay up in a serious way. Unless… she could get him to go double or nothing. Yeah, she'd think about that… right after her brain started functioning again… right now, getting Chase naked filled her mind and they were in a damned bad spot to shed clothes.

Reaching out, Nevin nudged the door of the weapon's locker open and dragged him inside, her mouth never leaving his. Kicking off her boots, she made sure they landed outside then slammed the hatch and fumbled for the wrench. Chase beat her to the tool, his lips burning a path along her throat and over her shoulder. He slid the metal home and hauled her close again, working his mouth back to hers.

Hovering less than a breath away, he hesitated. "I win." His mouth caught hers in another hard kiss. "And we're not going double or nothing. Don't even think it." He eased away, slowly backing up, raising his gaze to hers. "It's time to pay up, Nevin." He lifted a brow, daring her to back out.

Shit. He had her. No way to get out of paying up on the bet.

"Fine. You win." She warned him. "But you won't like it."

She'd never pull off her task without looking like a complete idiot.

~:~

Chase's lips curved upward and he planted his ass on a crate. "Oh, I'll like it. Trust me on that, Nevin."

A lap dance from Nevin topped his list of fun things to do.

He nodded. "You can start now. Or wait and do a full on naked version in the showers later."

Nevin tilted her head, studying him for several moments. "I vote for later. You have a job to do first."

He quirked a brow. "I do? Care to fill me in?"

She slowly unzipped the athletic warm-up jacket. "Oh, absolutely." She shrugged out of the garment. "You got me all hot and ready, you're not really gonna leave me hanging, are you?" She crisscrossed her arms and tugged her sports bra over her head.

Chase blew out a long breath then cleared his throat. "Uh, no. That would be rude." He rose, crossed the short distance between them, and drew her close. "And I'm nothing if not the epitome of manners."

A wide grin crossed her face and she popped the button on his fatigues. "You have your moments." She shoved the pants past his hips then cupped his ass. "Now take care of this business and I'll figure out a way to rock your world with the stupid lap dance."

Chase chuckled. "Yes, ma'am."

I love writing short, little glimpses into an established relationship. I also love reading them!!

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flip!

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Unlawful Acts

Hiya!

Imagine my embarrassment when I realized the Arrow midseason finale actually happened this past Wednesday instead of last week? LOL Oh well, one great thing came out of it…I got a new ep of Arrow and it was AWESOME!! And if the CW doesn't make Flash (or whatever they end up calling it) a series in the very near future, I'm gonna wonder where their brains are. LOL

Shifting gears (pun intended), Sons of Anarchy completely messed with my head. As mentioned, Kurt Sutter rarely goes where I think he will, and he had me going right until the last act of the episode. I pretty much stood up and yelled at the TV, then prayed for someone else's death… which didn't happen, dammit. But in retrospect, I'm actually sort of glad. I now know exactly how I want the final scene of SOA to play out… and if I don't get it, well, Sutter certainly won't give a hang, but I'll be sorely disappointed. I'm at a place with the show where retribution HAS to happen or I'll pretty much feel like it wasn't work seven years of my life. :D

Okay, enough about television this week, more to come about Sleepy Hollow and other shows soon. Tonight's post is from Unlawful Acts, a short story featuring two longtime friends who finally sort of realize their feelings, but shouldn't act on them because of their work situation. (If you haven't noticed, this is one of my favorite tropes. :D)

Here's the tagline:

Effy Carmichael, an up and coming officer, wants the job of Alpha Team Leader and deserves it, except she's a few years too young to hold the position. When the spot goes to one of her oldest friends, Jonah Kirkland, Effy has to swallow her pride and welcome him even while she fights the powerful attraction between them. Hooking up with Jonah is against regs, but it may be worth committing an unlawful act to finally realize one of her most closely held desires.

And a sneaky peek…

"Son of a bitch"

Effy Carmichael searched for a spare riot helmet to decorate for Popper's 1000^th bust. She'd checked everywhere else and the walk-in storage locker was the last place she could think of to find one that couldn't be used anymore. She couldn't figure out where the hell all the old helmets had gone. The unit always had them laying around, usually in the way and exactly where no one wanted them.

She shook her head. Figured. When she needed one, the stupid things disappeared.

She'd find one if it killed her. Everything might be in a state of flux, but it didn't mean the oldest traditions of her team would go away. Not if she had anything to say about it.

And she did. Command Division couldn't take that away from her.

It sucked. She shouldn't be the one searching for a celebratory gesture. Jonah Kirkland should.

Right. Like he had a clue.

And okay, she could have given him one, but dammit, friendship only went so far. Especially when he had her spot.

Five long years she'd wanted and worked hard for the job of Alpha Team Leader. And yeah, she was young, but she knew the post and the team inside out. The position should've been hers.

Instead it went to Jonah.

And as much as she wanted to hate him, she couldn't. They'd known each other forever. He'd saved her as a matter of fact.

She'd been five, he'd been eight and when she'd climbed up too far in one of the neighborhood trees, Jonah talked her down. Even broke her fall when the knobby piece of bark they used for a foothold gave way and she'd dropped the last few feet.

How could she not be friends with him after that?

She'd had the biggest crush on him. Always had. But Jonah treated her like a little sister and she'd never done anything to change that status. Never told him about the way she felt. Because it hadn't been a 'thing'. She didn't want it to be. Older, wiser, more experienced, Jonah had a large group of people he called friend. He'd hang out with her when time allowed, or his group bailed, and she enjoyed it enough to be content.

He graduated, went to college, and three years later, she'd gone straight to the academy. He'd followed her the next year. She'd already been assigned to Alpha team when he finished up and he'd accepted a post with Delta team in another district.

They hadn't seen much of each other over the last five years. Holidays and the odd weekend home at the same time when they'd maybe have a drink or grab a bite and catch up on life. It had been easy to ignore the old feelings with such limited exposure.

But now? She interacted with him on a daily basis. And didn't have a current relationship to draw her focus. She caught herself looking forward to the AM briefings since he'd taken over. And yeah, that one got her. The guy had the job she wanted and got her to not hate mornings.

Oh yeah, big trouble.

And a major potential problem.

Because Jonah was free as a bird, too. Not once, in their long friendship, had they ever been significant other free at the same time. It made her twitchy.

He'd asked her to dinner twice and out for a brew once. She'd dodged him all three times. He'd meant it to be a casual thing, she got that, but it chapped her hide he'd been promoted over her even if through no fault of his own.

And dammit, it pissed her off that Jonah hadn't figured out her deep, dark secret. She wanted him. Still had quite a burning desire to make him hers. And didn't that suck balls.

Because even if he did finally realize how great they'd be together…she now worked under his command. Regulations against fraternization existed for a reason. She got that. And the penalty could be very harsh, if they got caught.

The stupid thing? She and Jonah never, ever played favorites. They wouldn't. But… being the exception to a rule didn't mean squat. She'd seen, first hand, the way a relationship could completely backfire and make lovers do supremely stupid shit.

That left her with crap options. Do the friendly dinner and grab a beer thing or keep pushing Jonah back. She'd opt for the friend thing. But…she wouldn't go out with him until she either had another guy or got over the stupid attraction.

Right. As if. Two decades hadn't made a dent yet.

Shaking her head, she got back to her task at hand.

Effy cleared the last wire mesh locker and came up no joy for the helmet. She grabbed a small ladder and climbed up to look on top of them. The lockers were deep and she couldn't quite see all the way in the back. She needed just a few more inches to reach back far enough to swipe her arm along the top. There had to be something back there.

"I know we have an extra helmet in this damn building, somewhere."

If she didn't know better, she'd almost swear someone had taken every last one of the damned things and stashed them off the premises.

She stood on her tiptoes and hoisted herself up with her arms to see further back. Just a couple more inches and she should be able to see clear to the wall. She kicked out with her foot, trying to find some leverage but knocked the ladder over instead. "Well, shit."

Not good. Tenuous at best, her hold on the top of the lockers became precarious.

Poor Effy. She's left hanging and someone to rescue her would just awesome. (Cue Jonah…)

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flip.

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: To Create a Spy

Hello!

Okay, getting the TV stuff out of the way first, as always, but did you watch the Arrow mid-season finally? If you didn't, why not!! Seriously, the show keeps getting better and better, and it was already pretty damned great. :D

Sons of Anarchy finale this week and whoa. I seriously have no idea how anything will play out. Sutter never quite goes where I think he will and that's part of what I love about the show.

Walking Dead gave me a very satisfactory finale even if it killed off one of my favorite characters. Can't ask for more than that, right?

I'm hoping to start Almost Human in the near future and catch up so I can watch in real time. I've heard very good things about the show.

Tonight's post is from the novella, To Create a Spy. Set in the future, it should have at least one follow up, probably two to tell the whole story. This one is almost complete but the sages have been tight-lipped lately. Maybe posting will loosen their tongues a little.

Here's the tagline:

Mariah St. James isn't what she appears to be when she's recruited by a covert black ops group hell bent on using her supposed skill set. But when she finds an ally in Matthew Jamison, she thinks she might actually survive the rigorous and deadly training… until he betrays her by leaving her alone in a dangerous situation.

And a sneaky peek…

Mariah woke up slowly, taking mental stock, breathing a quiet sigh of relief to have a clear head and no restraints. Past experience taught her not to betray the fact she'd awakened, so she kept her eyes closed while trying to piece everything together. And her memory felt fragmented. The last thing she recalled—before those shocking blue eyes—the homely prison nurse directing a couple of burly guards to 'put her in the jacket'. After that, she had no clue what the hell happened or where she ended up.

Definitely didn't end up in the prison infirmary or hospital. Too damn quiet. And it smelled clean. And those brilliant eyes… no one in the hellhole facility had eyes like that. She'd had all of a few fuzzy seconds to see them, yet the memory remained vivid in her mind, outweighing her terror of everything else.

Back and shoulders aching—no doubt from fighting the restraints—Mariah decided she couldn't remain still any longer, and lifted her head to slowly scan her surroundings. Her muscles screamed in agony—God, it hurt to move—she must've been straining against the fetters for a long time.

How long exactly? One of the big questions slamming into her brain.

Sinking back against the pillow, she thought maybe she'd wait before trying to move again. Eventually the answers would come and she honestly didn't know if she'd like them.

She had a feeling she wouldn't.

~:~

Sitting silently, Matthew Jamison watched the monitor, observing the subject with what appeared to be dispassionate interest. A schooled guise, one he'd learned and honed to perfection. Not for anything would he let on how riveted to the screen his attention remained, memorizing the features of the woman resting on the cot—taking in each and every nuance, the sound of her breathing, the flutter of her lashes against her skin, the rise and fall of her chest.

He'd have to tread very lightly with this one, keep his piqued interest a carefully buried secret. It wouldn't do for his associate, sitting less than two feet away, to discover just how keenly he wanted to work with this one. There was something about her, something he couldn't put his finger on, that called to him.

Which could prove to be very dangerous.

Division had a way of sucking the life out of everyone, himself included, but he'd felt a spark when administering the cocktail of drugs that put Mariah into a deep, restful sleep, counteracting the toxic combination running through her bloodstream. A spark could flash and burn or smolder along the edges before finally catching flame. Matthew had spent so much time at Division, trained so many people who'd become faceless entities that either moved through to the next phase or entered containment that it surprised him to actually feel something with this woman.

Her file implied a level of violence he'd never seen in a trainee before. Convicted of multiple counts of murder, vicious displays each, the rest of the information on her didn't mesh with. It was the standard psych profile for a serial runaway. Whatever drove her to carve her victims' faces to ribbons before coldly plunging the blade into their heart would be tapped into, exploited and then molded into what Division considered a functioning operative.

Mariah St. James also had the face of an angel and a body made for sin. Two very powerful assets that would serve her well on active status. Matthew rarely indulged in speculation about new recruits… but his instincts about this one were on overload. She could go either way.

He had a strong desire for her to make it.

A careful movement from the subject, brief as it was, caught his cohort’s attention.

“Hmm… she’s awake.” Caroline Adder made a notation on her screen, logging the time.

Matthew calmly glanced at her. “She has been for thirty minutes.”

Caroline's narrowed eyes didn’t faze him. His statement didn't comment on her ability—Caroline acted as the number two at Division. She relied on machines, technology and periphery observations too much sometimes. They caused her to miss subtle details.

Matthew watched people… observed every degree of change. He knew the moment Mariah woke up because there was a very subtle shift in the cadence of her breathing. But she was good… maybe something in her past allowed the practiced ease she had in feigning sleep.

Whatever… he'd soon know… as he would know everything there was about her.

Rising, he gave Caroline a curt nod then exited the small viewing area to begin Phase One.

I always, always see Roy Dupuis in my head when writing Matthew. A blast from the past, but a terrific inspiration when it comes to having a low-key character who holds so much so deeply. J

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flip.

ML Skye

Sunday Snippets: Ties Don't Bind

Hi

Not much new in TV this week, so finishing up from last week's new episodes. The Walking Dead is my on the fence show. Some weeks I love it, some weeks I'm very 'meh'. Last week was definitely a 'meh' week, but the new episode tonight is pretty good, but the Governor just doesn't excite me all that much.

Sleepy Hollow continues to make me happy. It's so crazy insane I can't not like it. This week's Arrow and Sons of Anarchy have me ready to get through Monday so I can watch new stuff. J I also quite enjoyed Agents of S.H.E.I.L.D. I'm not nearly as disappointed as a lot of fans are, but I'm a long time believer in setting up story arcs for bigger payoffs later.

That's it for this week. Should have some great reactions for my next post.

Tonight's snippet is from Ties Don't Bind, a futuristic, speculative romance featuring longtime friends who finally have a chance to become more.

Here's the tagline:

Gemma Neal, a solider, shares a past with Tripp Macintosh and wants to reconnect with her former friend and lover. But when Tripp gets elected to a parliament position, trading fatigues for a suit and tie, she's not sure how to proceed… a foreign concept for the take charge lieutenant.

And here's a sneaky peek…

Tripp entered his quarters after grabbing a hot shower to find Gemma asleep in the chair by the bed. Dressed in fatigues and—he had to be seeing things—wearing his tie. A quick shake of his head confirmed that she really did have his tie around her neck, with the knot resting against the swell of her breasts.

He crossed the room and securing his towel with one hand, stooped down to wake her up.

"Gemma." He nudged her gently. "Hey… wake up."

She came awake slowly, blinking sleepy eyes open. "Hey, Tripp." Sitting up she glanced around, confused, before she realized she was in his quarters. "Damn… I fell asleep. How long does a shower take anyway?"

Tripp snorted. "Depends on how many times you get stopped on the way there and back." Standing, he crossed the room to open the wardrobe and grab some pants and a shirt. "Being half naked does nothing to slow down the wheels of government."

Quickly dressing, he kept up the flow of conversation. "What's up? You doing okay?" He turned back and snagged some socks out of a drawer. "And what's with the tie?"

Stretching when he asked, Gemma glanced down. "What?" Then she grinned. "Oh, nothing. It was lying on the bed and I wondered what it felt like to have a noose around your neck all the time now." Standing, she crossed over to where Tripp stood. "It's not nearly as restricting as I thought it would be."

His hair still damp and mussed from the shower, she reached up and smoothed it back from his face. "For some reason I assumed wearing it would make me feel all starched and pressed, but it doesn't." Dropping her hands, she loosened the knot and let it fall to below her breasts. "In fact, it makes me feel a little bit wicked." Grabbing the edge of her shirt, she lifted it up over her head, somehow leaving the tie behind when she tossed the garment on the bed.

Tripp's eyes narrowed. He'd wondered why she sought him out, but didn't know what to expect. Stripping her shirt off, typical Gemma, but not typical them. Not lately. Not for a long time. Why would Gemma want to…

He leaned forward, trying to get a look at her eyes. "Gemma… what are you doing?" She didn't look drunk… or anything like that. A relief. The last time she initiated something between them she'd been half off her ass wasted. Always hard to tell with her, too. She rarely acted intoxicated. Never had the telltale signs.

She didn't have any now. In fact…

She looked damn good.

Tripp might actually have thirty minutes of unoccupied time he can spend with Gemma, too. Wonder what they'll get up to. LOL

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flip.

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: A Thousand Reasons

Greetings!

Another great TV week. The 50^th anniversary of Doctor Who truly made my entire week. Sooooo nice to watch a show I love on BBC America and not get stuck with ninety-seven episodes of some Gordon Ramsay show and/or Top Gear. Don't get me wrong, both shows are okay, I'm just really tired of how often they're on during the day. The BBC has a HUGE library and I used to love watching all the various offerings before the network got overrun with a chef and three car enthusiasts. *sigh*

Anyway, Arrow delivered and provided several off the charts levels of awesome. Seriously, I live for Wednesdays. Let's see, Sons of Anarchy brought some good stuff to the table. Sometimes I think if certain people would shut up and other certain folks would sit down and have an actual conversation, things might go a whole lot easier. I may have a nice, long post on my TV blog—which rarely gets used—once the season is over.

I could go on but since it seems like next week is hiatus for the Turkey Day holiday, I'll save some reactions for that post.

Tonight's snippet is from A Thousand Reasons, a short story about an established couple who have an issue to work out.

Here's the tagline:

Dix Benson wants life to finally settle down after he passes the advocacy exam. But when Willow Gold decides to accept a job flying missions in a very hot zone, he can think of at least a thousand reasons it's a very bad idea. Convincing Willow will be the challenge.

And a sneaky peek…

The new opportunity had Willow excited. Something she really wanted to do. She loved consulting but hated the red tape and endless waiting for parliament to play its political games. She knew how important it had been for him to take a shot at the legal process… knew how much he loved it. Could he really hold her back from something she loved as much?

The question answered itself as the final sputtering gurgles indicated the coffee was finished brewing. Flying was her passion just as the law was now his. Willow needed to get back to what she did best… pull it out of the fire while the iron was still hot.

And he'd be right here waiting every time she came home.

All the frustration, hurt and anger dissolved while he poured two steaming mugs of the freshly brewed liquid. Picking them up, he made his way back up the stairs feeling a little sheepish at how quickly his reaction had pushed them into a full blown argument, complete with flying pillows and a slammed door, which was now cracked open. 

Glancing down the hallway, he noticed the bathroom mirror steamed up from a shower. With a mug in each hand, he used his foot to nudge the door open and swallowed hard. Willow stood making the bed… naked… except for a towel wrapped around her hair. Looking up, she caught the look on his face and straightened, gauging the atmosphere. She didn't say anything… didn't have to… knowing instinctively he wouldn't give her any more grief over her decision.

She moved around the bed, coming to a stop in front of Dix and she smiled as she took one of the mugs, closing her eyes when the aroma hit her. Bringing the cup to her lips, she watched him and blew across the surface before risking a long sip of the fortifying brew. He doubted it would be sexy to anyone else but him, but god, it made him hard. Lips quirking appreciatively, he took a bracing gulp from his own mug letting his eyes close in satisfaction.

When he opened them, Willow's lips were curved wickedly as she placed her mug on the dresser. Doing the same with Dix's, it freed his hands to cup her face… his fingertips working under the edge of the towel loosening it until it fell to the floor. He leaned in to kiss her as she hooked a finger in the waistband of his jeans, tugging him toward the bed, undoing the buttons of his fly on the way. Bumping up against the edge brought her breasts into contact with his chest and she moaned appreciatively, breaking the kiss. Dropping his hands, he helped her push his jeans out of the way. Unable to resist, he snagged her lips again.

Needless to say, a resolution should be coming soon. :D

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flip.

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Star Chasers

November 17, 2013

Hello!

Gotta say, my television shows are eating my brain lately. I'm dying for Walking Dead tonight even though the Governor makes my skin crawl. I got caught up on Sleepy Hollow and totally love the dynamic of the entire show. Reminds me so much of the X-files. Agents of S.H.E.I.L.D. is coming together pretty nicely. I'm enjoying the character dynamics. Sons of Anarchy keeps me on the edge of my seat and I so want to hate Gemma, but can't quite go across the line into loathing territory. But I would love to see her get some kind of comeuppance. We'll see what happens.

Again, Arrow and Tomorrow People had me glued to my screen on Wednesday. Arrow truly gets better each episode. Tomorrow People keeps me guessing and I hope it stays that way. I'm really excited to see where Haven ends up going and how they'll resolve the current storyline. I can't remember if this is the last season or not, but I'm almost hoping it isn't.

And hey, I'm currently enjoying a Firefly marathon on the Science Channel. I have much love for that show.

So… tonight's post. The snippet is from Star Chasers, which might end up becoming a series, but the sages are being giant pains and won't decide how much they're going to give me. Evil little trolls. LOL

Here's the tagline:

Marnie Ritoli, a kick ass mechanic for the premier team in the galaxy, is presented with a dilemma: choose a new mate or leave the Chasers. But Marnie knows Luce Carrington isn't dead, and she won't play second fiddle to anyone, so she does what she's best at and finds a loophole in the league rules, picking Luce's best friend… the person who backs her into a corner in the first place.

And the sneaky peek…

Marnie Ritoli tossed and turned. Her mind filled with images of Luce Carrington, friend, lover, the only man for her. His dark hair pulled back, eyes burning for her, mouth descending to steal a kiss. Not that he ever had to steal them. Marnie craved his lips covering hers, their tongues dueling for dominance until they fought for air.

She could almost feel the firm pressure of his mouth over hers, the way his hand always slid up to cup the back of her head, drawing her in and holding her close. Marnie wanted to taste his lips right now, even asleep, she hungered for them. For him.

Rolling to her side, she curled up against the pillow, a very poor substitute for Luce's powerful, solid frame. She wanted to wrap herself around him and drift off in the warmth of his arms. The fluffy pillow didn't offer the deep, rhythmic breathing that usually soothed her overly tired mind.

Then again, nothing did right now.

The annoying buzz from the bedside phone had her giving up all pretense of trying to sleep. She grabbed the handset and pushed herself upright.

"Yeah." Her voice sounded rough, but after 2 am, who cared?

"It's Win. I know it's late, but we gotta talk." His voice lowered. "Canteen, five minutes."

She didn't respond. Didn't have to. Win had already cut the call.

Rolling out of bed, she twisted her hair back and secured it with two pins. She knew, bone deep, whatever Win wanted to discuss couldn't be good. Dragging on a pair of pants, she buttoned the closure and reached for her vest.

The crew's name emblazoned on the back didn't bring the comfort it usually did, but putting it on gave her a boost of confidence. She hoped the mantle of protection remained after she met with Win. If she lost his support, she'd be out in the cold.

She jammed her feet in her shoes and looked at the empty spot in the bed. God, she missed Luce. He'd been gone way too long.

"Dammit, Luce. Where the hell are you?"

Striding across the room, she yanked the door open and started for the canteen.

Marnie won't enjoy her chat with Win, but she'll buy some time. For what? I can't actually say… spoilers.

LOL

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flip.

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Spider's Webb (A Furlough 99 Novella)

Howdy!

Well, my week in television ended up being pretty damned awesome. Seriously, the Walking Dead kind of caught me off guard, but gotta give it to Rick. When he steps up, he sorta goes full tilt and gets it done. Not sure how I feel about the parting of ways, but I'm leaning towards it being a good thing.

Thoroughly enjoyed Castle, which is a nice change since I've been kind of 'meh' about this season. I love getting to see Rick and Kate together—that kind of never happens and it pisses me off—but the storylines either underwhelmed or made me scratch my head. Sons of Anarchy continues to rip the scabs off old wounds. I love having my smart Jax back. He's always at his best when he's not reacting to and working through shit like watching his best friend die. Very interested to see what side Tara's actions have him landing on. My hope is he'll stay smart, get the Irish out of the way, deal with the DA, and then let the emotional fallout hit. And good Christ, stay away from Gemma so she can't throw gasoline on the fire. *shakes head*

Arrow and The Tomorrow People just make my Wednesday the best day of the week. I can't say enough about Arrow at the moment, and anything I would say would contain spoilers, so *zips lips*. Haven twisted everything sideways again, but hit on a theory I had from the first episode. I kind of can't wait to see how the new wrinkle plays into the mythology. I have more thinky thoughts, but again… spoilers. LOL

So, that's my week in TV. Maybe I should get to the actual post, right? Tonight's snippet is from Spider's Webb, my next installment for Furlough 99. The story features Spider Smith from Finding Home. Spider is fun to write, but his female counterpart, Hailey is an absolute joy. Her voice is very strong and very insistent. LOL

Here's the tagline:

Spider Smith, techno geek extraordinaire, meets his match when Hailey Webb decides she needs his expertise. When her carefully planned escape from a life of crime goes awry, Spider wants to help, but with his team out on a fool's mission, Spider has to fight the battle on his own.

And a sneaky peek…

Hailey Webb let her fingers fly over the keyboards at a comp station, ignoring the four burly men standing behind her. Haj urged her to speed it up. Mal kept asking if she'd hacked in yet. And Dom informed her she'd better crack the system or their plans were fucked. Well, no shit. Taking the time to answer them would only slow her down.

One man remained silent. And he would be the one she worried about. Lou Bonera, their esteemed leader. An ex-enforcer, he tolerated Hailey for her hacking skills, but considered her expendable. Hell, he pretty much thought her only good for sucking his dick, taking his cock, or catering to his sexual whims. Within twenty minutes of meeting the guy, Hailey started referring to him as 'Boner' in her head. And she set him straight on their first encounter. She would not be his semen receptacle… but she would make him as bleeding rich as he wanted to be.

He didn't appreciate her point of view until she flashed her blade and promised to unman him the next time fell asleep. When she proved she could back up the promise of almost unlimited funds, he'd settled back and kept a watchful and sometimes leering eye on her.

Two years and she'd avoided any kind of physical entanglement with Boner. She found money and goods and hacked security systems to get the team in. They grabbed the bounty and split the profits—her share being considerably less than theirs. She could live with the cut. The men did the dangerous stuff. Hailey had the talent and know how. She also had money stashed in slush accounts all over the galaxy.

Lou finally broke his silence. "Come on, we don't got all day."

Fidgety and impatient never equaled a good combination with the crew she worked for.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm almost there. Give me ninety seconds." She prayed she had the time right. Thirty to finish working through the firewall into the vault control mainframe and sixty to lay the trail of kilobytes she hoped would be found on a timed delay.

Her life might just depend on it.

She'd been a master thief since the age of twelve. But at twenty-five, she'd taken a hard fall when her drop cord failed and she barely made her egress point before the ISP hit the scene. Hailey missed the thrill of getting in and out under the nose of authority, but the close call signaled her retirement—at least from the physical end of stealing. She had to keep her hacking skills current, hence the necessity of working with Bonero's team. She knew it would be dangerous, knew Lou to be ruthless, but lately he'd become sloppy, too. He'd left bodies behind on their last three jobs. Bodies that didn't need to be dead. Hailey always worked an op from the angle of no bloodshed unless absolutely unavoidable. And seriously… with the size of the men she worked with, a gloved fist to the face would render most opponents unconscious long enough for them to escape. Why chance leaving trace DNA? So much smarter to get in and out, leave nothing behind. The first two deaths she wrote off as shit luck of a coincidence. But the last heist… she knew, deep in her gut, Boner murdered one of the guards… simply because he could.

Hailey took it as her cue to get the hell out while she could. And she had a plan… a risky one… but she lived for risk. What she didn't live for? A trail corpses. She could totally do without dead bodies.

She hit the last keystroke, laying her plan into action. She'd picked the next target for the team with great care and deliberation.

Her crew's next stop?

Furlough 99.

Her last chance to get the hell out.

For a great introduction to Spider, please pick up Shyler: Finding Home on Amazon.

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flip.

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Security Risk

Hi!

YAY! Strike Back got a renewal even though it'll be the last season. I can live with one more ten episode run with Stonebridge and Scott. I'm torn between wanting to see them go out with a bang—Butch and Sundance style—and hoping like hell my two heroes find a way to be happy and live long lives. :D

And Arrow… holy crap. I can't even form coherent thoughts about last week's episode yet. Without getting too spoileriffic, I'm usually not keen on recasting a primary character, even if they've had almost zero screen time, but I'm definitely reserving judgment on this one. Mainly because I can't wait to see where they take the character and how they tie her into the DC 'verse. *rubs hands together gleefully*

Haven keeps impressing me and doesn't always do what I expect. If I haven't mentioned it before, I LOVE shows that keep me guessing. J

Anyway, time for the actual post. Tonight's snippet is from Security Risk, a short story where Izzy and Quinn have too much on their plate to act on their slow simmer attraction… or maybe not. LOL

Here's the tagline:

Quinn Kavanaugh and Izzy Nance, military intelligence experts, are tasked with keeping the peace during a planetary summit. But when they act on their attraction for each other, they have to check their feelings at the door or potentially become a security risk.

And a sneaky peek…

Quinn entered the Sit room and found Izzy sleeping away. He wanted to be pissed, but couldn't muster up the energy. Besides, she looked like the girl from their childhood when she slept like that. Head turned sideways on crisscrossed arms. How many times had he and Izaak come home to find her like that at the kitchen table?

She always tried to wait up for Izaak, and rarely managed.

Quinn pushed the nostalgia aside. If he didn't, he'd let Izzy wrap him around her finger and not accomplish what he needed—getting her to back off on Bergda Naimbi.

Quinn nudged her awake. "Hey, Iz. Nap time's over." She jerked and he stepped back in case she came up swinging.

As tired as they were, he wouldn't be surprised.

Izzy yawned and blinked, then gave her head a shake. "That was almost refreshing." She lifted her arms up and stretched out the kinks.

Quinn's lips quirked. Sarcasm meant she'd be ready to go again. A good thing since they had to several details to settle and he figured they'd get the hard one out of the way first.

He dove right in. "What's the deal with recommending the block on Delegate Niambi's wife?" He dropped down on the seat across from Izzy, noting the still tired lines around her eyes.

Izzy frowned. "She threw up a red flag. A great, big, shiny one." Izzy fished through the pile of papers on the table. "See, look at this." She pointed to a highlighted passage on a security report from at least a decade ago. "She got tagged with an extremist group and hauled in for questioning." She leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms, ready to do battle.

Quinn sighed. "Iz, it was at least ten years ago. And that group disbanded not long after the incident in question. Don't you think she might have changed?" He cocked his head from side to side, trying to work out the tension in his neck.

Izzy scoffed. "Not my job to know if she's turned over a new leaf. My job is to find security risks and eliminate them. That's what we do, Quinn."

"Not in this case." Quinn shook his head. "They're married, Iz. We can't block her."

Izzy snorted. "Yes. We can. We have the final say for who gets through the doors."

Quinn argued. "Uh uh. It'll cause too many problems if we ban her."

Izzy got mad. "I don't see how. If we say she can't be here… she can't be here."

Quinn sighed. "Izzy, did you read any of the books I gave you about the cultures we're dealing with?" He rose and crossed to the desk in the corner.

A guilty flush stained her cheeks. "No. I, uh, had other things to read."

Quinn rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like the latest issue of Guts and Guns." He rounded the desk and pulled down a book.

Izzy shrugged. "Yeah, well, I get more out of G&G than the pomp and etiquette stuff."

Quinn snorted and flipped to a page in the middle section of the huge protocol tome. "See, the Neophytes, once married, do not travel without their spouses. It's a cultural thing regarding the importance they put on the sanctity of matrimony."

Izzy flopped back against the cushioned seat. "Shit."

Quinn closed the book and returned it. "Yeah."

She straightened. "But what if she decides to off her dear beloved husband and blame it on another delegate. This would be the perfect opportunity for someone to try that."

Quinn sank down in his own chair. "Jeez. Your brain scares me." But she had him thinking.

She shrugged. "It shouldn't. You taught me most of what I know."

His lips quirked upward. "Not hardly. But you've got a point. We'll need to amp up the detail that covers Delegate Niambi."

~:~

Izzy didn't like his solution, but it would have to do. "Right. Major security risk protected by a lame ass document and protocol." She sighed. "I'll add another full contingent to them." That meant she'd have to pull a team from someone else, but if it kept anything from blowing up in their face, she'd do it.

Reaching forward she dragged a roster out from underneath the pile of papers on the table. "It's gonna be a problem, though." She flipped through the pages looking for a team she could spare. "Everyone is full up on the schedule." Izzy looked up. "If I have to go through this list one more time, I'll go cross-eyed." Her gaze scanned the names anyway.

Not a single unchecked ident slot. She'd have to redo the entire thing.

Throwing the file across the table, Izzy rubbed at the bridge of her nose. "God, my head hurts from this crap."

Quinn's hand grasped her shoulder. "Okay. Come on." He nudged her off the stool and tugged her toward the door. "Let's go for a stroll around the grounds."

Izzy snorted. "You mean the lovely and highly touted gardens that are cultivated by the fake sun?" She wrinkled her nose.

Quinn scowled. "Fake or not, it works. And it takes real water to grow all those plants." He pushed the door open. "And you have to admit, the Quad looks pretty damn good." He lifted a brow and held out his hand. "Coming?"

Izzy sighed. Anything would be better than looking at that stupid schedule.

"Yeah, yeah. Fine." She brushed past him and looked back over her shoulder. "And the Quad may look great, but it's a massive pain in the ass to keep secure."

Quinn shook his head. "Do you ever just enjoy something without thinking about it?" She opened her mouth and he held up his hand. "No. Don't answer. Just turn your brain off for five minutes, okay?" He made a quick turn and led her through the double glass doors. "Please."

Izzy rolled her eyes, but capitulated. "Your wish and all that."

The strangled sound he made could have been laughter or choking at the thought of her actually granting his every wish. She decided to not worry about it. Quinn knew better than to dream the possibility would ever happen.

Oh, Izzy, you'll be so surprised to find out how often Quinn dreams about you. :D

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flip!

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Questionable Vision

October 27, 2013

Greetings!

Gah! What a week in television. Agents of S.H.E.I.L.D got interesting, Sons of Anarchy kicked several plots up a notch, Arrow continues to WOW me, Haven had a kick ass episode and Walking Dead still amazes and creeps me out all at the same time. J I already miss Strike Back, but hopefully a new season will be announced, if it hasn't been already.

Shifting gears, tonight's post if from Questionable Vision, which oddly ties into the game changing theme of my TV shows this week. Park goes through an experience that has him questioning everything he believes.

Here's the tagline:

Park Danielson doesn't want to fight anymore. Stuck in a warzone, he has one burning question: Why bother sticking around? Darby Young has the answer: He's not allowed to leave.

Here's the sneaky peek…

Park Danielson drifted in space, ensconced in the eject seat from the cockpit of his plane. His vision filled with nothing but a raging battle, silent explosions, and bursts of light—quite a show, watching the death dance unfold and it begged a single question in Park's mind. What was it all for? At one time, he thought he knew… but the events of the past few days were proving him wrong. Or maybe he'd just been living a lie and could only now face the fact. His list of regrets had been safely stored away since the day of the attacks, but they occupied space in the forefront of his mind now.

 Not like he hadn't added a few mistakes recently—he had—but he'd looked at the end of the world as something of a clean slate. A way to hold on to the basic principals of duty, honor, and leadership, forging ahead, while leaving behind things like regrets, recriminations, and failures.

 Witnessing the wanton destruction going on around him made Park realize he couldn't completely excuse himself from anything. He could shove it all to a dark corner and ignore it, but nothing ever went away. It wasn't how things worked.

 With each new flash of battle, an internal war raged within him. As the violence escalated in every direction he could see, Park couldn't hold back the feeling of despair that had been eating at him for days. The disappointment and dissatisfaction closed in on him as he drifted silently in the vast nothingness of space.

 Why?

 The word echoed in his mind, drowning everything else out. Why were they fighting? Why was it okay to assassinate a military officer… on anyone? Why did he agree to follow the order to do so? And why did he think, for however brief a period, that he could make a difference after the attacks? That he could walk away from his old life and begin anew?

 He couldn't.

 He couldn't change the mind of his father or the president. Hadn't even tried, really. And he agreed to follow orders because Darby asked and trusted him to have her back. Neither duty nor honor motivated him into saying yes. Loyalty did. Loyalty to Darby made him agree to do something not only illegal, but morally wrong. He couldn't claim to have never done anything that skirted the moral boundary… God, he had. But it left him with the sad knowledge that they truly fought for…

 Nothing.

 Park couldn't face it anymore… a future of never ending battles with the enemy while humanity slowly destroyed itself. Wouldn't it be better to let it all end? When he discovered the tear in his flight suit, the answer suddenly seemed very simple.

 Stop fighting. Let go. Concede the battle.

 He would die with regrets, about Darby, his father, every past mistake… but he wouldn't regret dying. The feeling of drowning in the macabre spectacle raging around him would soon fade and he'd finally find peace. Quiet for his soul. A place to rest.

 Park let everything go as he breathed his last breath… drifting toward that imagined haven. In his last moment, with the last beat of his heart, he truly accepted his readiness. When fate intervened and brought him back, the shock turned into something deeply profound.

 And he couldn't seem to come to grips with being alive. He felt all wrong—out of place and off kilter. And he didn't want to be there.

 When Darby said they should just be glad they both came back alive… he told her the truth.

 "That's just it, Darby. I didn't want to make it back alive."

~:~

Darby stopped breathing for a moment. "What do you mean… you didn't want to come back?" She couldn't have heard his words right.

The very concept of Park opting out hit her hard. They had so much left to do. So much left to explore. But first, they had to get the hell out of their own way.

Something neither she nor Park had been able to do. Yet. They always seemed to end up on opposite ends of the spectrum and had to build bridges to meet in the middle. If Park stopped meeting her halfway, her world might just crumble.

His gaze slid sideways. "It means what you think it does." He moved his eyes straight ahead again… to stare at the top of the bunk.

Darby got up. She needed to move, to think, to digest. "Wow." She paced back and forth. "I have no idea what to say to that." Her head couldn't process the idea of Park Danielson not being in her life anymore. By choice.

She whirled around. "Actually, I do. What. The hell. Park?" She paced again. "You're serious, aren't you?" She shook with reaction. Wanted to shake him for causing it.

God damn.

So, Park throws Darby for a loop and she doesn't like it one damn bit. :D

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flip.

ML Skye