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.