Monday, February 25, 2013

Sunday Snippet: Dodging Reality

So apparently there's some awards show on tonight. LOL

Not really watching the Oscars, I got sucked in to Doctor Who instead. Man, the classic episodes take me back…WAY back to my childhood. And no, I’m not even fifty yet, but I remember watching the show with my dad on the local PBS station. :D

Anyway…tonight's post is a snippet from Dodging Reality, a story set during a war on the edges of space. Writing the snappy, snarky dialog has been a thing of pleasure.

Here's the tagline:

Dodging Reality. Where the front lines meet the ambitions of a reporter bent on snagging the highest ratings…even if she has to push Vic and Caro into a compromising position to get them.

And here's a wee sneaky peek…

Caro finished up the post flight check of Jazz's bird. She had to hand it to Vic. He'd made a good call, assigning the detail work to her. Caro could completely lose herself in the mechanics of checking systems and marking boxes. Caro wondered if Presley had made her way through the entire crew yet, to get their take on Jazz's 'predicament'. The woman wanted anything—discussion of missions, internal scuttlebutt, dirt on rivalries—everything she really couldn't have. Basically, she wanted to catch the squadron with their pants down. The irony of that? She'd caught the CAG wearing nothing but a towel…and that had been after a full frontal shot of him stepping out of the shower.
Caro would bet the rating numbers would soar after that segment aired. Vic Albright happened to be one primo specimen of manhood.
Especially when he got pissed off. Normally unflappable, even he felt the strain of Monique the Menace's constant presence. Never knowing which corner she'd leap out of next put everyone on edge. It had just taken Vic a little longer to lose his patience.
The towel incident had been his final straw. He completely blasted the interviewer—on screen—for barging into their living quarters—strictly off-limits per the production agreement—and suggested that if she wanted to catch everyone with their pants down, she should schedule a date and time for the entire crew to show up and drop trou.
Needless to say that hadn't gone over well with the reporter. She took umbrage with the suggestion and stated she had no interest in seeing anyone bare-assed naked. Vic calmly informed her that if he caught her in the private quarters again, he'd have to assume she'd changed her mind and have the entire crew line up outside her suite of rooms and strip off. With a blinding smile, he thanked her for her time, removed his microphone and exited the interview room.
The way he managed to deliver a scathing set down without raising his voice always amazed Caro. Of course Monique had no clue he used that carefully controlled, overly polite tone when he was this close to losing his shit. The pilots all gave him wide berth for the rest of the day.
But Monique? Oh no. She took his words as a flirtation and batted her eyelashes and flashed her teeth and tits whenever she got within spitting distance of him. Her camera crew rolled their eyes and shook their heads. They knew she didn't stand a chance with the major.
Caro smirked. As if. The prissy reporter did not fit Vic's type. Hell, Caro fit his type better than Monique Aromatherapy ever would.

This one is almost complete. Hoping to get it polished up and ready to submit or publish in the next month or so. Wish me luck!

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

ML Skye

Sunday, February 17, 2013

Sunday Snippet: Dance with Destiny

Whew. Busy week. I've managed to almost tame the mountains of laundry I never seem to get caught up with. It's weird to see empty sorting bins. LOL

For this week's post, I'll be previewing a snippet from Dance with Destiny, a follow up to An Answer to Fate. Jeb and Quillan have been through some interesting twists and turns and have to find their way back to each other. There should be one more book that wraps up their whole story.

Here's the tagline:

A prophecy discovered leads to a dance with destiny. Quillan and Jeb have to find their way back to each other and might just tempt fate to do it.

And here's a wee sneaky peek…

"Quill, I love you."
The same dream came. Jeb always proclaimed his love and she woke up. This time the unsettled feeling didn't linger. Instead calm imbued her and Quillan closed her eyes, breathing deeply, clearing her mind.
She might as well talk to her haunting lover.
Why the hell shouldn't she? Might help with the grief.
"You're more annoying now than ever." She sat back down, deciding to wait on a sleeping aid.
"Ah…there's my snarky woman. Thought maybe I'd lost her somewhere."
"About time, Quill. I'm going a little nuts here."
Jeb's voice became stronger, clearer. Didn't have the tunnel-like quality from earlier. Hell, it sounded like he'd taken up residence in her head. "Figures you'd come back to haunt me in full blown Technicolor, complete with fully constructed rooms."
"Ha! You're close, but not quite spot on. I can't haunt you, Quillan. I don't appear to be dead."
"Really? Well, hell." Not dead. She took one moment to let the thrilled relief hit her. "Okay. Okay. I'm gonna run with the idea. What exactly are you doing then? And where is here?"
An image fluttered through her head. The room, filled with books and scrolls, looked as ancient as the texts.
"Right now? I'm sitting in a huge room filled with books."
"You're in a library?"
"Of a sort. Can we move on? I'm not sure how long this connection or whatever will last."
Quillan shook her head. "How, exactly, are you pulling this off?"
Jeb sounded distant. "No clue, but I think I'm communicating through some sort of, well, hell, I'm not really sure." He didn't wait for a response. "There's some bizarre contraption with tubes holding a human captive. I think they've been drugged."
Son of a bitch. Quillan knew exactly what he meant. "They call them hybots. The people being held have telepathic ability and the cyborgs use the drugs to dampen everything else. They basically jack them into their ships and make the hostages act as the brain."
He might not be dead, but geez, his position couldn't be worse.

And there you have it. Quillan is going to have her hands full trying to find out where Jeb is located. Have to admit, it's fun trying to keep their close connection even though they're light years apart.

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

ML Skye

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Sunday Snippet: Covert Heart

Writing my blog post while watching Blood and Chrome, and I'll freely admit any typos or glitchy things are all on me. I've already seen the web episodes, but there's something very satisfying about something from start to finish in one go (um, minus the commercial interruptions anyway. LOL)

So…tonight's Sunday Snippet is from a novella that's about half way completed. Covert Heart is a mashup of Sci Fi with spy stuff. Two of my favorite genres. J

Here's the tagline:

An impossible task. A couple sworn to carry it out or die trying. One big test of the depth of their courage and love.

And here's the wee sneaky peek…

Emma Wells enjoyed her work. She didn't have deep political aspirations but the process of watching everything unfold fascinated her. When the opportunity came for attachment to the covert security force that protected the highest government officials, Emma jumped at the chance to be on the team.
She had no regrets. Whether undercover or working from the trenches, she loved what she did. She'd bumped into Rick McBride when he had a character persona, Rick Martin, fully embedded. An asshat personality, one she wanted to bitchslap within five seconds of meeting. Forced to work with him, she had to rein in the desire to kill him by the end of the first week. By chance, she'd arrived early for an event she ran security for and caught him in a conversation with the chancellor of the planetary alliance…who happened to be his father. Only she hadn't known that at the time.
A completely different man emerged and Emma wondered what the hell she'd walked into. She did some subtle digging and found holes in his credentials. Again, she watched and waited, keeping a very keen eye on his every move. If Rick stepped out line by an inch, she'd take him out.
Another week went by before she confronted him, or well, he confronted her. She'd give him credit, he didn't break cover. Instead he put on a flawless performance, walking into her office, a grim look on his face. Apparently her very quiet probe into his background hadn't gone unnoticed. He dropped the asshat persona the man she'd caught a glimpse of earlier emerged. Sharp, intelligent, and keenly aware of her mistrust, he closed her door and settled himself in the empty chair beside her desk.
Emma barely kept her jaw from dropping when he asked one simple question.
Fully expecting a full blown meltdown or interrogation, she had a list of answers prepped and memorized. Members of the same security team did not run background checks on each other, but she'd come up with several plausible excuses if she hadn't covered her trail. Her only problem? None of her replies could answer such a supremely vague query?
Emma quirked a brow. "Are you asking me why I think you're an egotistical pain in the ass?" As a cover it stuck very close to the truth. "I can give you the rundown in numerical or alphabetical order." She met and held his gaze. "Which do you prefer?"
Rick barked out a laugh. "Great answer." He rose from the seat. "And we'll leave it at that…for now." He crossed the office and opened the door, looking back over his shoulder. "I do strongly suggest you refrain from any more hacking until this detail is over." He left without another word.
Emma's eyes widened. By rights, he should have reported her to the chancellor and she wondered why he hadn't. His amusement puzzled her, and she didn't trust him enough to not be wary. He also hadn't quite convinced her there wasn't more to the walking, talking asshole image he presented either.
Curiosity piqued, she followed him for two days before he turned the tables on her. Again. She returned home after losing him in the throng of people outside a gala art show only to find the man sitting in her living room, drinking her best liquor.
Emma had her weapon drawn and aimed within seconds.
He raised his glass. "You've got excellent taste." He drained the contents. "And you can put the gun away. I'm not here to hurt you."
She snorted, but slowly lowered the sidearm, keeping it in her hand. "What are you doing here?"
Rick's lips curved in a half smile. "Why are you following me?" He leaned forward and poured another drink.
Emma shrugged. "I don't trust you. There's something you're not telling me and it's my job to know everything about the upcoming event." She raised a brow, daring him to deny her words.
Rick considered her for several moments. "You're smarter than you look." He kicked back, making himself comfortable.
Emma bit her tongue to keep from saying the first insulting thing that popped into her head. Instead she asked, "Meaning I look what? Stupid?"
Rick smirked. "No, not stupid. But getting past the tits and teeth to see the intelligent woman probably isn't something most men do."
She didn't whether to be insulted or complimented. "Never let the package fool you. You'll prove yourself to be the utter prick everyone thinks you are."
He laughed. "Touche. And very well said." He took a long sip of the alcohol. "You've got a meeting with Chancellor McBride at 0900 tomorrow." He finished the drink. "I strongly suggest you not miss it."
Emma narrowed her eyes. "Care to tell me what it's all about?" She'd definitely make the meet, but wanted to see if he'd give anything away.
Rick placed his glass on the table. "Just be there." He rose and strode toward her front door. "And play down the beauty queen angle. The chancellor gets easily distracted." Pulling open the door, he gave her a farewell salute and left.
Emma sank down on the loveseat and shook her head. "Dickhead." Pouring a healthy amount of liquor in Rick's empty glass, she gulped it down.
She hoped her meeting with Chancellor McBride solved the enigma of Rick Martin.
She had no idea how hard that would bite her on the ass.

Emma and Rick don't have the most conventional beginning, but they do find some very common ground. Then get tossed into a ton of intrigue. Fun times. LOL

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

ML Skye

Sunday, February 3, 2013

Sunday Snippet: Command Authority

Even the Super Bowl food coma I want to be in won't keep me from posting my weekly snippet. :D Seriously, I'm blessed with a husband who makes the BEST party food ever. Buffalo chicken dip, nachos, barbecue chicken drumsticks and thighs, and pizza. And okay, he didn't do the pizza from scratch this time, but who cares? Everything tasted so good I just want a nice, long nap. :D

But…Sunday Snippet first. Tonight's post is from Command Authority, another fairly focused short story that could end up heading into novella length. The sages are a little cagey about how everything is going to come together. LOL

Here's a tagline:

Addie Varns and Neal Columbo are thisclose to having everything they want, namely each other, when Neal gets promoted to commander. Used to being on equal footing, Addie needs some time to adjust to the new chain of leadership. Neal gives her some space, but if need be, he'll invoke his command authority.

And here's the wee sneaky peek…

Addie kicked back on the bunk in her cell, nose buried deep in a book. Pilots from both ships had dropped by, each one bearing something for her to read. With the exception of Porkchop, he'd brought her an adult magazine chock full of naked men. Addie refrained from asking why he had one in his possession.
A series of beeps followed by the jangle of keys interrupted her reading respite. Addie glanced up from the pages of her book.
"Let's go, Captain. You're sprung."
Addie stared at the marine corporal. "Seriously? Old Shitface told me I'd be here at least two weeks this time." Not that she blamed him. Seven times in two weeks was excessive. Even for her.
The corporal sent her a bland look while she gathered up her pile of reading material. Smart guy. Old Shitface could put him on latrine duty.
He cracked a smile. "Someone's got pull higher than him." The corporal winked.
Addie grinned. Neal. And the old man. At least when Neal made deals, he went straight to the top. Behind the scenes maybe, but not underhanded or double backed. And Neal's crew wouldn't have to worry they'd feel the bite. Neal would bear the full brunt of any backlash.
Not that there'd be any.
Addie shook her head. "I can't believe it." She stepped out of her home away from home setting the books on the meal cart outside the door.
The corporal shoved a clipboard in front of her. "Believe it." She signed the release. "Sign this one, too." He lifted the top page to reveal another one beneath it.
Add shot him a questioning look.
"Transfer papers, Captain. You're headed back home." His cheeky grin made her smile.
The corporal calling the Ganymead home made her chuckle. "That obvious, is it?" She scribbled her name a second time.
The man shrugged. "You guys aren't in everyone's face, but we've known you a long time." He tore off her copy. "There's no one who isn't damned happy for you."
Addie rolled her eyes. "Except Old Shitface."
The corporal didn't bat an eye. "That guy doesn't do happy. His loss."
Addie couldn't argue. "Guess I'll see you around, then. Thanks for letting everyone smuggle the books in." She nodded toward the towering pile.
He flashed a smile. "Couldn't stand watching you climb the walls."
Addie snorted. "Hey, I did a mess of pushups, too." She stuck out her hand. "Seriously, thanks."
Corporal Gant pumped her hand then held it. "You two are good for each other. Remember that."
Addie nodded. "I will." She left the brig and went to pack her gear.

Poor Addie. A little background…she got transferred back to a different ship when her relationship with Neal went public. Neither fared well, but Addie lashed out often enough to get sent to the brig almost every other day. :D Love can be a very messy thing sometimes. LOL

Until next week, catch everyone on the flip!

ML Skye