April 16, 2017
Happy Easter to those who celebrate. I'm always down for baked ham, mashed potatoes, and noodles. Also, the weather couldn't be more beautiful today.
Thoroughly enjoyed Talking with Chris Hardwick last week. I truly enjoy his casual approach to interviewing. He's such a fan of everything and it shows.
Not much on television this week. I'm looking forward to the return of my lineup.
Riverdale had a great episode. Secrets and sins run deep in the small town and it's so cool to see the interesting ways both get exposed. It'll be fun to see how Archie's mom mixes it up with everyone.
Had a busy work week but had some time to look forward to some returning shows. It looks like Syfy on Fridays will be awesome this summer. Killjoys, Dark Matter, and Wynonna Earp all in one block? Doesn't get much better.
And that's it for television. Tonight's post is from Guarded Chance, a novella that started out as a "what it" scenario between two of my favorite characters. It kind of grew from there and became its own story.
Here's the tagline:
Echo Dart, a brilliant soldier but hot mess of a woman, becomes a captive of the enemy who try to recondition her for their purposes. During the process she realizes there's only one person who has every touched her soul, Race Markinton. But she's already burned the relationship bridge with Race and once she's free, she has to figure out how to make amends or lose him for good.
And a sneaky peek…
"Gah! We've been over this before, Wilson. We're not revisiting the topic." Echo Dart squared off with her significant other for the thousandth time.
Wilson Prewitt crossed his arms over his chest, his face stony. "Yes, we are. You have to stop working for the rebel alliance." His mouthed thinned to a slash across his face.
Echo heaved a sigh. "I'm not working for them, Wilson. Showing them tactical maneuvers and helping them plan raids puts me firmly in the camp of working with them." Why the hell didn't he get that?
Wilson blew out a slow breath. "And you know how I feel about that. We're in a good place here, Echo. They leave us alone."
"They" referred to the coalition occupying the rock of a moon they lived on. How Wilson thought she'd ever fall in and play nice with enemy combatants never failed to spike her ire. Now proved no different. The urge to bolt and run as fast and as far as possible boiled in her gut. She sure could pick the worst possible men. Not always. You had a good one once and blew it to hell. Right. Inner voice needed to shut the hell up.
Echo rolled her eyes heavenward. "Wilson, we're done here." Possibly for good this time. "I'm going out. Don't wait up for me." She grabbed her coat from the hook and started for the door.
Wilson, his voice desperate, spoke up. "I have a solution to our dilemma." He pushed away from the wall and strode toward her.
Echo paused then turned to face him. "What dilemma? This"—she gestured to him then her—"between you and me? It's not working out. And I'm sorry for it, because I wanted it to, but you're not what I need." One person fit that bill and he'd never come near Echo again.
Wilson's voice went eerily soft. "Not yet. But I will be." He grasped her shoulder, halting her progress toward the door.
Echo shook him off, not in the mood for crap. "What, exactly, is that supposed to mean?" He rarely got aggressive, not even when she'd prefer it over the calm efficiency he loved to throw at her.
Wilson's lips twisted in a sad smile. "I'm sorry, Echo. But I can't lose you." He wrapped an arm around her, hauling her close, pinning her to his side. "I won't."
She didn't see or hear it coming… the jab of a needle in her upper arm and the fuzzy, gray haze that immediately followed. But she should have. Son of a bitch. A trained soldier had a sixth sense about danger. Or they should. She'd burnt the wick at both ends lately and her instincts were off kilter. Not a very good excuse, but lack of sleep and self-induced emotional turmoil had her tied up in knots. Race and the old man would take her to task for letting her reflexes go dull.
Well, the old man would. Race… would probably shake his head, curl his lip in a sneer, and walk away.
Two men moved into her blurry line of vision. Whatever they'd loaded the syringe with worked fast. Echo couldn't even put up a fight when they zip-corded her hands behind her back and threw a black hood over her head. But she caught the insignia on the shoulder of her captor. Coalition dogs. Enemy hands. Didn't that just fucking figure.
She resisted the pull of unconsciousness. Physically incapable, her body burned with a need to rebel. Her brain focused on using her other senses; hearing being the only one of use.
"You won't hurt her. I have your word on that, right?" Wilson's tone hovered between concerned and bitchy.
A gruff voice answered. "We said we wouldn't. Now get out of the way." Rough hands grabbed her shoulders and another set lifted her legs.
Oh, Wilson, you asshat. Only a truly stupid idiot would take the enemy's word on anything.
Movement followed and the sensation of drowning in darkness came close to overwhelming her. Outside, the sound of traffic greeted her ears. The scratchy fabric of the hood chafed at her cheeks and forehead. Shadows with brief patches of light were the only thing she could make out, her vision blurring further.
Echo would have never believed Wilson could betray her in any way. Another black stain on her current roster. Desperate men did stupid things, and handing her over to the enemy counted as supremely moronic. But the blame didn't belong solely to Wilson. Nope. Echo's self-destructive tendencies had finally reared up to bite her on the ass.
And she had no one in her corner, which rested squarely on her shoulders, too.
Unable to fight her captors, the inky blackness overcoming her, or the sluggish pull of the drug coursing through her veins, Echo's last thought went out to Race, asking forgiveness and apologizing for being such a constant screw up.
Darkness descended and, with no other choice, Echo gave in.
Honestly? This one is turning out to be more than I'd hoped for. I'm excited to finish it up and put it out for everyone's entertainment.
That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.