Sunday, April 28, 2013

Sunday Snippet: Bad Chemistry (Civil Revolution - Book One)

Hello!

Very crazy week with weather all over the place. LOL I'm kind of happy when it's rainy because I get to catch up on lots of television. Nothing like folding clothes with Stonebridge and Scott from Strike Back.

On a similar note, only three more episodes of Arrow this season. I'm truly excited to see where things end up and where they go after the hiatus. My brain hurts with all the possibilities.

And that leads me to tonight's post from Bad Chemistry, the first book in the Civil Revolution saga. I'm currently writing it under the ML Skye name, but it may very well end up switching over to Skye Ritchey. The sages aren't playing nice and keep giving me mixed signals. They can't decide if they want it set in the future on another planet, or more urban fantasy current time. *sigh* This will be one of those manuscripts that goes through a zillion revisions. LOL

But…I do have a tagline:

Lex Durban and Charlotte Martin do their best to survive in new world hierarchy, each with a different kind of target on their back. But when they have to undertake the dangerous task of moving refugees to a new location, Lex wants Char to stay behind so only one is in danger, but Char has other ideas.

And a sneaky peek…

Lex Durban surveyed his men's work, impressed with the ramshackle appearance of their new base of operations. An outside observer wouldn't think much of the structure of lean-tos constructed with galvanized steel and surrounded by several different types of fencing. He particularly loved the standard issue plank style interwoven with the chain link mesh and patched over with more of the girded metal. The place looked thrown together and had a commune type of vibe.
He grinned. Exactly what he'd been going for when they found the location. The whole thing hid the true beauty—an exterior entrance to an underground bunker facility. A mid-sized concrete building, twenty by twenty-four feet, led to the reinforced true base of operations. A former government safe location, the space transferred into military hands sometime near the end of the cold war. The huge area hadn't seen an update since the late eighties, which suited Lex just fine. The less traceable tech the better.
His fifteen man team kicked major ass. They'd pulled the exterior together in under a week. He'd head out at first light to meet with his commanding officer and give him the bullet on the readiness of their location.
Okay, General Edward R. Mulroney didn't exactly hold an official rank. His former position in the military no longer existed. But he did establish a covert, underground version of the armed forces, one that continued to protect the citizens of a country in turmoil.
The chain of command stopped at the retired general, his attachment of former officers—admirals, colonels, commanders, and captains—and an odd group of no longer elected senators, representative, and two governors. Good people who got into politics to actually make a difference. Until they realized the impossibility of the effort.
Now they put their time into finding shelter for the displaced citizens who got caught out of the boundaries of the new districts or chose to leave the oppressive environments. Lex had been ordered to scout and find a place in New to set up a permanent center. The first part of his mission completed, he had to figure out how to supply the location. If tradition held, he'd be doing a lot of compromising with the Sector Police. Not his idea of fun, but it usually proved necessary.
Letting himself into the main base, Lex scanned a critical eye around the area. He made his way to the living quarters and claimed a space to call home. He tossed his rucksack on the floor beside the bed and fell into it. Sheer exhaustion would guarantee a good night sleep and his internal alarm clock would wake him before the sun came up.

The opening of the book lays some groundwork, which may or may not work well since there isn't a lot of dialog. When I read, I often like being dropped right in the character POV and getting to crawl around in their head before jumping into lots of talking. Gives me a chance to get to know them intimately before they interact with anyone else. J



That's it for tonight's post. Catch everyone on the flip.

ML Skye

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Sunday Snippet: Call the Ball

Greetings!

So, I'm getting ready to celebrate being for twenty-four years as of tomorrow, April 22. Gotta say, I'm happy I found a great man who puts up with my overwhelming need to write and be creative. He might not always get the why of it, but he stands behind me nonetheless.

Happy anniversary, wonderful man!

Tonight's post is from Call the Ball, a manuscript I hope to make both hot and humorous. I'm not always great with the comedy, but Gwen and Tag are bringing it so far. Fingers crossed it continues.

Here's the tagline:

Gwen keeps a tightly controlled leash on her feelings for Tag, thinking if she gives up control, she'll get lost in the passion. But when a simple game throws them together, she has to take a chance to see if sparks fly and if so, how to quench the flame.

And here's the sneaky peek…

Gwen rose from her spot at the table. "I can't believe I let myself get talked into this juvenile game." She glanced around, eyeing everyone in the room. "Whose idea was this anyway?"
Barlow Biggles, also known as Biggie, raised his hand.
Gwen snorted. "Figures. Anything for a cheap thrill, right, Biggie?"
She rolled her eyes, hoping it masked the nervous tension she couldn't shake. Seven damn minutes with Tag Locksley. He'd know. And she didn't think she'd be able to deal with it if he laughed in her face.
Sucking it up, she walked across the room and followed Tag into the closet. The walls immediately closed in when the hatch shut behind her. She needed to get grip. Fast. But how? She figured her standard fallback of snark and sarcasm would be a safe bet.
Whirling around, she paced the small space. "This has to be the lamest of the lame. Who needs a stupid game to get it on with someone?"
Tag leaned a shoulder against the bulkhead. "I think the point is you don't know who you'll end up with." His eyes followed her back and forth motion.
Damned man. Cool and calm, and way too casual. She wanted to bounce his head off the walls.
She shot him a scathing look. "Yeah, I don't like that either."
Tag straightened. "Because it's me, right?" He heaved a sigh. "It figures."
She stopped and faced him. "What?" How did he know? Wait, maybe he didn't. She quickly back-pedaled. "No. Geez, Tag. Calm down."
He gave her a pointed glance. "I'm not the one climbing the walls in here, Gwen. You are."
Shit. He had her there.
She scrambled for a reply. "I don't like to be forced into small spaces, all right?"
His brows scrunched. "You're a pilot. You sit in a cramped cockpit. Try again."
No way would she admit he made her nervous in this particular small space.
She shrugged. "I'm in control there. Here? Not so much."
His eyes narrowed for a moment and he pondered her. She didn't like the knowing look settling in his gaze.
His head tilted back. "Ah. I see." He pushed away from the wall.
She also didn't like his know-it-all tone. Or the way he slowly strode toward her in the cramped area.
She took a step back. "See what, exactly?"
Why the hell didn't they make larger supply closets? She had nowhere to go and Tag crowded into her personal space.
He lifted a shoulder. "Your problem." He paused, halting his progress.
She tilted her head. "I don't have a problem." Not one she'd own up to anyway.
His lips curved. "Yes, you do."
She snorted. "No, I don't. This is juvenile. We're not twelve."
Tag barely bit back a retort. He struggled to keep his lips from twitching and Gwen gave him credit for succeeding. She also thanked the universe he didn't point out she'd acted about five years old since they'd walked into the closet.
Tag changed the subject. "Let's focus on the problem."
Gwen argued. "I do not have a problem." Again, not one she wanted to share with him.
His head shook back and forth. "Gwen, you so do." He moved a step closer.
She held her ground. "Okay, what it is then?" The strong urge to dart around him and get some breathing room briefly flitted through her head.
Tag made sure she couldn't, propping his hands on the bulkhead, boxing her in before speaking. "You need to be in charge." He edged closer. "Well, Gwen. I can let you be in charge. We've got what? Four minutes left? Five?"
She nodded, jerkily, unable to utter a word.
A slow smile curved his lips and he eased closer. "Okay, then, you have the ball. Call it."
Now she really didn't know what to do. His breath fanned her face and his lips hovered over hers, barely a whisper away.
She caved and went with the moment. "Kiss me."
He didn't hesitate. His mouth crushed hers and…oh, holy shit…the man could melt metal with his lips. He cupped her face and she leaned into the kiss. Her hands moved up, skimming over his biceps, before trailing down to grasp his hips. He backed her against the wall, the hard ridge of his cock pressing along her stomach. A muffled moan stuck in her throat and the image of his naked body entwined with hers took up residence in her head. She got lost in the picture of his skin sliding against hers and when he pulled away, she gasped and leaned forward, wanting more.
She blinked. "Why'd you stop?"
He rasped, "Time's up. Game over."
His voice had a whiskey smooth quality to it and he swallowed hard, his tongue jutting out to lick his bottom lip.
"Fuck me." She barely held back a shudder and raised her gaze to his. "Can we—"
He nodded, a quick jerk of his head. "Oh hell, yeah."
The hatch swung open and Tag stepped in front of her, giving her a much needed few seconds to get her scattered self together. She dragged in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, willing her racing pulse to slow down.
Tag snorted and stepped out of the supply closet. "Okay, we're done here. Everyone's had their fun and games." He jerked his head toward the exit. "Move out."

Sorry to leave it there, but needless to say, the temperature is going to rise significantly in the rec room. Oooh, la, la.

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

ML Skye

Sunday, April 14, 2013

Sunday Snippet: Shyler: Finding Home

Greetings! Another great weather day after dipping back down into cooler temps again. The week is looking good for mildness in our dreary, cold, bleh spring so far. YAY!

Tonight's post is from a current release, Shyler: Finding Home. Here's hoping it'll help me finish up the follow up novella for the Furlough 99 anthology with Ellipses Press. Maybe revisiting Shyler and Marsh will help me get Spider's groove back. :D

To that end, I'll be featuring a snippet of Shyler's interaction with Spider. Seriously, I LOVED writing their dialog. So much fun. :D

Here's the tagline:

Inspector Shyler Lumen and entrepreneur Marshton Gray don't have much in common. A manhunt for a brilliantly mad chemist brings them together and sparks fly. Shyler and Marsh can fight the wave of change…or grab hold and go along for the ride.

And here's the sneaky peek…

Shyler stood in Spider's domain, getting a good peek at what made him tick. Loads of techno-geek equipment lined every wall in ordered chaos. His actual workspace, strewn with keyboards, monitors, touch pads, files and three headsets reminded her of the desk in her tiny office. Shyler had no doubt he knew exactly where to find whatever someone asked for. She could do the same. Her CI called the top of her work unit a monstrous disaster. She referred to it as an organized mess. He stopped demanding she clean it up. Whenever she did, it took her weeks to find anything. Amazing how a missing tox screen or autopsy report could stall an arrest.
Spider entered, whistling an off key show tune and stopped short when he caught sight of her. "You're letting Mr. Moneybags interrogate his brother?" He shuffled around, and cleared off one of the chairs. "Wow. The sex must've been super hot." He pulled out a chair and plopped down in front of the monitor wired into the makeshift interrogation room.
Shyler contained the urge to head thwap Spider and shot back. "Really? You're going to go there?" She waved her arm in a wide arc. "The guy who uses casino babes and porn goddesses as art wants to be a smart ass about my sex life?" She yanked a second chair out and sat down beside him.
Spider shrugged. "You're breaking your own rules. Can't blame me for assuming a great lay is behind that." He adjusted the camera angle, pulling the view back for a wide shot of the entire room.
Shyler didn't have a defense so she changed the subject. "Whatever. How about some sound to go with the picture." She took the headset Spider handed over and ignored the smirk on his face.

Ahhh. I think this will be a huge help in getting back into Spider's head and helping him deal with Hailey Webb—a woman who knows exactly what she wants and how to get…with Spider's help. :D

Maybe I'll have a post about them in the very near future. :D


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

ML Skye

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Sunday Snippet: Five by Five

Greetings! Finally got a great day of weather today! *throws confetti*

Tonight's snippet is from Five by Five, a completely fun to write story about Vasha and Deke. They're well on their way to their happy ending. With a roadblock or two to get through first.

Here's the tagline:

Vasha Eick has everything she wants. Deke Vitali would be the cherry on top. An old rival shows up, shifting the dynamic and Vash has to stake a claim or get out of the way.

And here's the sneaky peek…

Vasha Eick grinned. "You're on. I call."
Deke Vitali's hand couldn't be beat…at least not by much. For once, Valkyrie would go down in flames. A red letter day and no one else would witness it. Deke decided he could live with knowing he'd finally beat her. And he'd have bragging rights…couldn't forget that.
He displayed his cards, one by one, on the table. Then leaned back, with confidence, and sent Vasha a smug smile. Her turn. He couldn't wait for her to show hers. And collect a long awaited payoff.
It took everything he had not to rub his hands together with anticipation. A hot kiss, with tongue, from Vasha…in front of the entire crew. He'd put the wager on the table, never dreaming she'd accept and he'd end up the winner.
If the damn fool woman ever laid her cards down, he'd be one step closer to claiming his prize. His brow lifted and she sighed, shuffling the cards in her hand around. Stall tactics. He had her beat.
His first clue should have been the slow smirk her mouth curved into. The second, the way she laid her cards out with a flourish, one by one. But the final straw? Vasha holding the last card between her thumb and forefinger, flipping it back and forth. No reluctance, only a teasing little grin, before she dropped it beside the others.
Oh…no way. His mouth dropped open. She did not…
With a blink Deke sat up. Fuck it all. Her hand topped his.
The word 'No!' echoed through his mind. Several times. He'd been so damn certain he had her beat.
Deke stared at the cards placed on the table. "That's just…wrong! There's no way you could have a hand that good." He couldn't believe he'd have to pay up.
And it would be a doozie of a show, too. He'd have to…shit
He should have known. Never, ever bet against Valkyrie unless you had five by five, the best hand in the lot. Apparently not even four on the floor would be good enough when playing against her.
Mouth still hanging open, he glanced her way. She sat across from him, a gleeful grin on her face.
It just couldn't be. Now he'd have to…
Looking down at the cards again…something clicked. His eyes shot back up to hers and he stood, rifling through the discard pile until he found it…a duplicate to one she'd played. There shouldn't be one of those.
"You cheated?!" Disbelief shot through him.
Vasha's laugh burst out in full-blown glory. "Hell yes, I cheated…" She caught the incredulous look on his face and quickly added. "Sorry, Deke…couldn't pass that up." Standing up, she snagged the extra card from the table…probably because she might just need it again. "There's not enough entertainment around here…and a chance for the entire crew to watch you give your next briefing naked? Well…" She let the excuse hang and glanced toward the exit.
Oh, no. She didn't get to escape. Vasha Eick, ace pilot and card shark, had some big ass explaining to do. Deke started around the table and Vasha beat a hasty retreat toward the door.
She stopped and shrugged. "Hey, you can't blame a girl for trying." She dashed out into the corridor to haul ass away from him…laughter bouncing off the bulkheads.
Evil wench. Deke shook his head and took off after her. "Oh…yes I can."

Vasha jumped right into the fire by trying to pull a fast one on Deke. Then again…she's sort of known for doing exactly that. LOL



Hope you enjoyed!

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

ML Skye