Sunday, February 15, 2015

Sunday Snippet: Morning Sickness

Once again, Bitten turned in a great episode. I'm loving the subtle shift to more dark and scary this season. Arrow and The Flash both had great episodes, too. I'm really looking forward to watching Oliver and Thea train together. I'm also thrilled Laurel finally told Lance about Sara. That particular storyline dragged on a lot longer than it should have.

A few new teasers have been airing for Orphan Black and my interest is growing by the day. Here's hoping be get some backstory for Paul. I'm really looking forward to seeing more of him this season.

Tonight's post is from Morning Sickness, a novella where my main characters face a challenge neither expect.

Here's the tagline:

Dava Whales has all the classic signs of pregnancy, except she can't possibly be with child—she's a solider in the middle of a war and religiously takes her mandatory birth control shots. When Warren Carter suggests Dava get checked out, the pricklier than usual officer goes ballistic—especially since Warren is the other half of the parental equation.

And a sneaky peek…

Dava expelled the contents of her stomach, a cold, paralyzing fear settling in her bones. Grabbing a wad of toilet paper, she wiped her mouth and tossed the crumpled tissue in the bowl. Easing back, her head hung low, she swiped the sweat and tears from her face.
Heaving a shaky sigh, denial burst forth. "No. No, no, no. No way." Planting her hand on the wall, she rose on wobbly legs. "There's no way in hell I'm pregnant."
Okay, so why did she experience all the classic signs? Fatigue, headache, sensitive joints, and now puking three mornings in a row?
Exiting the head, she made a straight shot for quarters. "Son of a bitch. This can't be happening." She made a left at the causeway junction and charged forward, keeping to herself and not making eye contact with anyone.
Anyone who knew her would know something had her in a major agitated state—especially Warren. She did not need to bump into him right now. Taking her next right, she dashed into quarters and headed for her bunk. Head still down, she slammed into a wall of flesh and glanced up.
Warren. Shit.
He reached out and steadied her then settled her onto the mattress. She turned her head to the side, refusing to meet his gaze.
He sighed and kneeled down. "Did you throw up again?"
Her gaze shot to his. "How the hell did you know?" She hadn't seen him for three days, he couldn't possibly be aware of—
No. Not pregnant.
Warren rose from his position and sat beside her. "You've been in such a haze you completely missed me being in the head yesterday morning." He grabbed her hand. "And today, like clockwork, you made another mad run for the bathroom." His fingers squeezed hers. "What's going on, Dava?"
She jerked her hand away. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing is going on, Warren." She wouldn't get into anything with him right now.
Warren frowned. "You'd better go see Doc Koffman, as a precaution."
Dava wanted to punch Warren. "Is that an order, Captain? Or are you trying to back me into a corner so I have to talk to you?" God, could she push his buttons any harder?
His lips thinned to a slash across his face and he leaned in close. "I'm not trying to force you into anything, but the sooner you figure out what the hell is going on, the more options you have." His voice became a gruff growl. "Wait too long, your choices are limited."
A red haze of anger settled over her vision. "So, let me get this straight. By choice, you mean ridding ourselves of something, right?" Where did the ball of rage in her gut come from?
Warren jerked back. "Good God, that's not what I'm saying at all." He got up, pacing back and forth. "You're all over the place, Dava. Whatever emotional turmoil you've got going on is clouding your brain." He pinned her with his gaze. "I'm concerned, not only as the CAG, but as your friend." He stopped, his voice going low. "And yeah, also as the potential sperm donor—"
She shot up from the bunk, her hand slamming over his mouth. "Shut up. Just. Shut up, Warren." She turned her back on him. "You and I are not going to talk about this anymore." Damn him for shoving reality in her face.
Warren strode forward, pausing directly behind her. "Get checked out, Dava. Or I will make it an order."
Her shoulders slumped. "Fine." She spun around and jabbed a finger in his shoulder. "I'll go. But you back off and let me go alone." She moved past him, heading for the hatch. "If there's anything you need to know, I'll come find you."
Warren opened his mouth then snapped it shut again, giving her a terse nod.
Dava exited quarters and heaved a sigh of relief then followed it with a sharp intake of breath. A mix of fear and trepidation hit her square in the gut. Exhaling slowly, she took a step followed by another. She'd go to sickbay, wrangle Doc Koffman into drawing some blood, and put the whole idea of being pregnant to bed, once and for all.
Right? Right.
Or maybe not.
This one is taking a really cool turn. Can't wait to write more.

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

ML Skye

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