Sunday Snippet: Clubbing on Space Station Delta

Welcome to the last post of 2019. I hope everyone had a terrific holiday or the best they could have given the trash fire that has turned into a raging wildfire of possible corruption and back-channel maneuvering in the RWA. I'm not a member of the organization but I stand with marginalized authors. Period. Full stop.

I believe I made it through the mild case of the flu. I'm still a little stuffed up and achy, but otherwise doing well. I caught some decent television time also.

I watched an episode of Riverdale and thoroughly enjoyed it. Once again, the play on theme of the episode title worked so well. I'm sad because it's almost the end of the season and that means no more Luke Perry soon.

I finished Dirty Sexy Saint and ended up really liking it. I also caught the new Quickie, The Naughty List and loved that also.

Caught another episode of Murdoch Mysteries and enjoyed the different approach. The episode played out almost like a dinner theater murder mystery and I'm totally there for that.

Frankie Drake also had a different style of episode and I loved it. The cold opening had me wondering for a few moments if we'd lost a major cast member. Well done.

Watched an episode of Midsomer Murders and, weirdly, it reminded me of Doctor Who if only because two of the actresses in this episode guest-starred on the series. I've been watching some of the marathon leading up to the New Year's premiere of the new season.

I'm finishing out the week with a full arc of Sapphire and Steel. I started season three and since there's only one assignment for this season, I'll have it finished up later today.

And that's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Clubbing on Space Station Delta, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Macie Gunn discovers a very different side to Nix Handleman, her commanding officer, when they get some downtime on Space Station Delta. Macie likes what she sees, but wonders if Nix will keep the stick out of his ass once they return back to duty.

And a sneaky peek…

Nix has had the stick up his ass for too many years.

Nix replayed Macie's offhand comment over and over in his mind. He didn't mean to eavesdrop on her conversation with Jenna, but it had been hard to avoid. Once the briefing room emptied out, voices carried.

He shook his head. "I don't have a stick up my ass." Then again, he didn't exactly burn through good times like he once used to.

Not since his best friend Eick Nambi died because of a stupid barroom brawl.

Maybe that should change. Eick's death had been eight years ago. Nix advanced up the ranks and made captain.

He snorted. "By working my ass off, not by shoving a stick up it." Cutting through the mess hall, he stopped outside his office.

Macie's observation stung more than he wanted to admit. He liked her, the newest member to his squadron. She'd transferred in almost six months ago.

Keying in the entry code, he nudged the hatch open with his shoulder. "I should get to know her better." A matter of pride… especially now.

Not like he didn't have the general basics down. Her remarkable skill in the cockpit put her ahead of some of his seasoned crewmen. And she believed in working as a team, sharing glory and accolades. Vivacious, witty, and gorgeous, she didn't let the beauty go to her head.

Hooking up with her wouldn't be a hardship and the relaxed regulations no longer made fraternization a forbidden taboo.

Nix huffed out a breath. "Discretion is crucial though." Which could be a problem.

Because… Macie loved scuttlebutt. She enjoyed nailing her fellow pilots with embarrassing information and drawing attention to them. And she rarely missed an opportunity to offer an opinion on the latest and greatest fodder from the rumor gristmill.

Even if Nix wanted to pursue something more with Macie—and he didn't right now—he wouldn't trust her to keep her big yap shut.

Leaning back in his chair, he tapped his pen on the desk. "Doesn't mean I can't shake up her perception a little." And prove he most definitely did not have a stick up his ass.

This story is so much fun! I love writing characters who have to move past preconceived notions. Macie is in for a big surprise.

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

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Close Quarters

So, I'm pretty much caught up on the holiday shopping and just in time. We adopted another doggo this week and I ended up with a mild case of the flu. So far, a multi-symptom medication is taking care of the flu and the puppy is chewing her way through anything she can sink her teeth into. We're working on the little shredder to help break her of tearing into everything.

Slow week for television, but I did watch a Classic Who arc. I think I have one left of season nine.

Caught two more episodes of Gargoyles. I had a great conversation with my oldest about the shows we watched together when he was little. Some great memories shared of how much fun we had.

Started Mr. 365, a Passionflix original, but stopped it about halfway through because I'm behind on everything and I wanted to catch Dirty Sexy Saint, the holiday movie for this year. I'll finish up Mr. 365 soon.

I'm in the middle of Dirty Sexy Saint and, so far, love it. I'm so glad I got a founding member's subscription to Passionflix.

That's pretty much it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Close Quarters, the second novel in the Scorched Homeworld series.

Here's the mini-blurb:

After trying to out maneuver their crew mates who bet on whether they'd ever hook up, Molly and Sloan discover an abiding love and embark on a committed relationship. Their biggest problem? Trying to figure out how to live in close quarters without making each other insane.

And a sneaky peek…

The brush of Sloan's chest across hers and the sting of his teeth on her skin sent shock waves straight to Molly's toes. She welcomed it. The pressure continued to build and Molly waited for the swirl of pleasure to hit.

Sloan's hot breath in her ear sent a delicious shiver down her spine and she edged closer to the precipice. He changed up the pace, thrusting faster, harder. Molly toppled over the edge, pleasure exploding like a starburst and she shattered, moaning Sloan's name.

Her release pulled him into the vortex after two more surges and he came hard, breathing raggedly as he gasped against her throat.

Spent, Sloan collapsed and rolled to his side, hauling Molly against his chest, her face lying over his pounding heart. He caressed her arm as their breathing returned to normal.

When coherent thought was an option, he lifted her chin so he could see her. "We're pulling an all-nighter, aren't we?" He groaned when she chuckled and nodded affirmative.

Amused by his reaction, Molly playfully walked her fingers up his chest. "We could always stay in bed, if you'd prefer." She knew that as much as he'd want to, the neat freak inside him wouldn't allow it.

His grimace confirmed her knowledge. "I didn't think so." She sat up and pulled him along with her. "Let's go, Captain. We've got a lot of work to do." She grabbed a robe from the back of the door and slid it over her shoulders.

Sloan wished she hadn't decided on the robe. It was his favorite—short and silky—and he'd be distracted with her wearing it.

He pulled on some sweats and followed her out into the living area where she was making what passed for coffee. As she reached up to the top shelf to get two mugs he caught a glimpse of the rounded flesh of her behind and decided they would have to take a break every couple of hours or he'd go insane. When he looked back up, Molly was grinning at him… that had been her plan all along.

He gave her his best CAG glare, which only made her laugh.

Keeping his face stern, he gestured to the profusion of paper. "Okay. Where do we start?"

Molly wasn't fooled at all. She spun and danced around the stacks of papers somehow managing to not move a single sheet. The loosely knotted robe slipped open, exposing a line of flesh down her middle.

She didn't fix it, just plopped down on the hastily cleared cushion and grabbed the stack closest to her. "Why don't you go through these and weed out the non-qualified applicants."

She waved the pages at him when he didn't respond and caught him gazing at her barely covered breasts. "Sloan… hello? You do want this mess cleared, right?"

Sloan's eyes snapped back to her face, the evil grin on it told him she knew exactly what that robe did to him.

He shook his head. "You are so bad, Molls." He grabbed the papers with a determined look in his eyes. "We will have at least a third of this room cleared within two hours." He sat down beside her and started to review the first application.

Molly smirked and stood up. "Two hours?" She grabbed another bunch of pages that were already disqualified and looked around for a file to stick them in. "Why two hours?" She found a file on the floor and bent over to pick it up, exposing herself to his perusal.

Sloan didn't say they couldn't have a little fun while they cleaned up her mess. His strangled oath didn't mean he hated the view.

Sloan willed his body not to respond to Molly's blatant teasing. "Because in exactly two hours I'm carrying you back to our bed so I can screw you senseless for torturing me."

He gave her a look, daring her to contradict his statement.

Molly gave him a wide grin. "Is that a promise?" She scribbled 'qualified apps' on the side of a box and shoved it his way. She'd go through those later.

Sloan raised an eyebrow. "Do you doubt me?" He picked the box up and set it beside him, then nodded at the floor. "Get busy… time's a wasting."

He went back to reviewing the next application to the sound of her laughter.

I love writing Molly and Sloan and it's fun to dive into how sharing space changes the dynamic of a relationship.

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

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Chasing the Sun

There's nothing quite like hitting the third week of December and realizing less than half my holiday shopping is complete. I need about five more hours each day to get everything finished up. Something tells me I'm not going to see that extra time.

Had a decent week of television viewing. Caught an episode of Riverdale and, wow, I'm seriously impressed with how the relationship with Betty and Alice is being portrayed. I'm on the fence with the Hal stuff. Was completely thrilled I didn't have any Hiram to deal with and loved the father / son stuff between FP and Jughead and Archie and Fred. It's so bittersweet to watch Luke Perry's scenes.

Caught another arc of Sapphire and Steel. I should be getting ready to start the third season next week.

Watched an episode of Murdoch Mysteries. Really not sure what to make of the neighbor interaction. My gut says the wife is probably some type of murderer. We'll see if I'm proven right. I have a vague idea of who I think she'll end up taking out if she is.

Also watched an episode of Frankie Drake Mysteries. Enjoyed seeing a family member added to the fold. Loved Nora's mama bear protection instincts.

Also caught another episode of Midsomer Murders. Very happy this has another season coming up.

That's pretty much it for television this week. I also dived deep into the holiday music on a couple of days. Tonight's post is from Chasing the Sun, a sexy short that might end up turning into a novella.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Chance Martin and Rena Chavez are best friends, and maybe something more, if their work will stop getting in the way. But when Chance can't deal with a set of orders to remove an admiral with lethal action, he starts a downward spiral he can't stop. Rena has to pull him back from the edge, no easy task because she always follows orders.

And a sneaky peek…

Rena sat reading the after action report from the Moru Zasu explosion. The space substation held a key position on the relay route from their home planet Xanxia to the newly discovered Celestene, a planet the central government coalition hoped to start settling soon. They had to if they wanted to ease the current population burden.

God, what a close call? Complete with bodies flying out of the blast area with the recon ship just barely getting clear of the explosion.

She huffed out a breath. "Did Chance even bother to mention it?" Nope. Just wrote down the facts and went on with his duties. Closed the file.

A full week ago.

Yeah… something's just not right with him.

Her pen tapped the pages of the report and Rena pondered how distant he'd become. "Chance Martin can do aloof and biting on his best day, but lately he's been over the top with it." Maybe that explained his almost complete withdrawal from social activities. "He never shows up for the late night poker fests anymore." And he sure doesn't haunt the tiny little bar in the far cargo hold of the Valor.

She'd looked for him on multiple occasions.

She hadn't seen him around much since his spacewalk. And truth told… she hadn't made much effort to hunt him down—other than checking the bar and poker games. She wondered if anyone had. Probably not. She didn't like the guilt trip that set in. It had teeth.

God, she hated when her conscience reared its ugly head.

But, dammit, Chance had stunned her when she had reached out after he ejected during a battle. His admission of not wanting to come back knocked her for a loop. Rock-solid Chance Martin had a death wish? It boggled her mind. "And I don't know how to deal with it."

So… she hadn't been there for him. Not really.

His confession messed up the way she viewed him and she had no idea what to say. "After all, I'm not the one who's supposed to skirt the boundaries and pull my ass out of the fire." No, that would be Chance, much to his father's dismay.

Being the son of a government official made him push against boundaries, sometimes going too far.

Rena played by the rules. Always went by the book unless everything else failed. And, okay, she tried to keep things loosely defined when it came to Chance, because he got her on a level no one else did. "But he's not allowed to do things like give up and not want to come home."

He was supposed to bounce back and be the same guy she'd known longer than anyone else on the ship. Not disengage from life and crawl inside his head to hide away from everyone who cared about him. But he did exactly that.

This one is coming together in fits and starts. I've got a solid idea of where I want things to go but the sages aren't always on the same page.

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

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Call to Come Home

I wish I could say it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, but it's so not. LOL I'm hoping I can add some holiday cheer to the casa sometime this week. I think I'm going to make 2020 my year to finally purge a ton of stuff we no longer need or use.

Didn't have a great week of television, but did get a few things watched. We got a Disney + account through our wireless carrier so I did start a rewatch of the Gargoyles series. I have so many fond memories of this show when my oldest was little.

I finished the Gilmore Girls marathon and had some pretty intense feels. I watched sporadically when it originally aired, mainly because I had three youngish kiddos at the time. I really love the vibe of this show, even when I wanted to strangle the characters sometimes.

Caught another episode of Midsomer Murders and also realized series twenty isn't the last one. Yay!!

Caught a full story arc of Sapphire and Steel along with a full arc of Classic Who. I'd forgotten how much I truly disliked the Master way back when.

I finished out the week with The Trouble with Mistletoe, a Passionflix original. If you're not a member, consider signing up. I love the service!

That's pretty much it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Call to Come Home, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Hollace is on a mission in enemy territory to retrieve power cells to keep their temporary base station running. She bumps into a man she shares a past with, the presumed-dead son of her commanding officer. When Verge refuses to leave with her, ignoring the call to come home, she takes matters into her own hands to reunite father and son… and to pick up where she and Verge left off.

And a sneaky peek…

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Hollace Winter stepped inside her commanding officer's space.

Vasser Olafsson glanced up from a stack of papers and Hollace bit back a gasp of surprise and alarm. He'd aged overnight. At least in the eyes that had seen too much fighting and devastation over the past two years.

Vasser nodded toward the seat across from his desk. "I did, Lieutenant. Take a seat." He shuffled the pages and tapped the bottom against the battered surface of the desk. "I have a mission for you but I'm not making it an order." He turned the pile of pages in her direction and pushed them toward her. "We're leaving Altera behind. You can see, starting on page three, the detailed list of why, but the reasons distill down to the planet is dying from this stupid, bloody war." He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

Hollace flipped through the report, skimming the bold points, each one direr than the last. In essence, they had less than two months to get as many people off the anchorage that orbited Altera and hopefully plot a course to find a habitable place to call home.

She blew out a breath. "What's the mission, sir?" She'd do just about anything Olafsson asked because she respected the man who'd become a father figure.

Vasser opened his eyes. "Turn to page ninety-seven. You'll get the general idea." He waited until she found the big red empty box on that page. "If we're going to have any hope of making an evacuation a success, we'll need those power cells. If we don't get them, we can't start the agriculture project we'll need to feed everyone." He leaned forward again. "But you and I both know where those cells will be." His mouth thinned into a slash across his face.

Hollace nodded. "In enemy hands. That's why you won't make this an order, isn't it?" He'd hate to put anyone in such a precarious position, but his reason for not wanting her to take the mission had an added wrinkle.

Her history with Vasser's son, Verge, a former captain who'd resigned his commission before the war started. When Verge decided to pursue a degree in eco-preservation, the old man blew a gasket. Hollace didn't get between them when they all but came to blows but she wished she had.

Losing Verge had taken a toll on the stoic commander.

Olafsson folded his arms over his chest. "It's one of the reasons. The other is not wanting to risk any of my pilots. If we're going to evacuate, someone has to fly CAPs and the galley crew won't cut it." He shook his head. "A solo mission isn't ideal, but it's less intrusive than sending a full platoon down to stir up more fighting."

Hollace didn't hesitate. "I'll go, sir. But let's keep the details under wraps. I'll report to only to you and we launch with only the deck chief and landing signal officer's knowledge." Warming to the concept, she added a few more thoughts. "If I leave from the dark side of the station, I can be out of the tube and halfway to the planet before I show up on the radar."

Vasser gave her idea consideration. "Okay, you have a go." He pushed away from the desk and stood. "Lieutenant, it goes without saying I need you to come home… but I'm saying it anyway." He moved around and extended his hand toward her when she got up.

Hollace grasped his palm. "I appreciate hearing it, sir." She pulled him into a hug. "I won't disappoint you." Stepping away, she turned and headed for the exit.

Vasser followed her to the door and gave a nod before she left.

So much left unspoken, the biggest being how much regret he carried over the fallout with his son.

I love writing reunions and family drama. Hollace gets both is this story.

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

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Call the Ball

Whew! Welcome to December. I had a crazy week of trying to find a working stove… okay, a stove with a working oven. It's funny. We get a new furnace and literally two days later, our oven takes a flying leap. The good news is, I didn't have to cook for the US Thanksgiving and we found a new stove.

Television took a back seat to both work and shopping for kitchen appliances. I did get the Murdoch Mysteries episode finished up and enjoyed it a lot.

I also caught a binge-watch of the Green Hornet. I love the vibe of that show. The movie vibe? Not so much.

Then… I fell down the Gilmore Girls rabbit hole and got sucked into a marathon that's still going on. I'd forgotten how much I really liked this show… even when the characters sometimes drove me bonkers.

I will say it's a great show to watch when insomnia strikes. And, man, the insomnia has been a right pain in my ass this past week. Actually, it's been longer than the week, but it really kicked in on Monday and hasn't backed off yet.

That's pretty much it for the mundane real-life stuff this week. Tonight's post is from Call the Ball, a sexy short that started with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

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 a sneaky peek…

Tag frowned. "Why does she always clam up around me?" Every single time he entered her vicinity, Gwen got quiet and edgy.

Or snarky and snappish.

He huffed out a breath. "Flies like a seasoned veteran though." The woman could make planes dance to her tune.

Turning around, he found an empty table and settled down in one of the seats. He liked Gwen. She had a solid rep among the pilots and she worked her ass off to earn her promotion, which he helped decide. Her skill in the cockpit gave her high marks. But her people skills lacked polish. And he could help her develop those.

He kicked back in the chair. "If I can get a handle on why she gets skittish around me." He wanted her transition to the senior ranks to go smoothly.

Maybe the rec room antics later would loosen her up a little. If not, he'd have to have a discussion with Gwen to find out if she had issues he didn't know about. Earning her trust mattered, especially when the senior officers had to work so closely together. He enjoyed a great rapport with all of his pilots and he wanted to find an inroad with Gwen.

Barlow Biggles stopped by the table. "Is everyone going to be there tonight?"

Tag nodded. "Yeah, just had West confirm. Party of eight at eight."

Barlow's lips kicked up in a grin. "Nice to have new blood. I hope she's down for having a good time with our crazy bunch." He strolled away to dump his tray.

Tag had no idea if Gwen would enjoy the silly and sometimes juvenile games the senior pilots loved to play. But it would be a good test to see how well she'd fit in. And hopefully give him a clue how to get him to open up a little.

This is a fun little story to dive into. I'll see if I can't get it finished up and out into the world.

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

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Breaking Through

Hard to believe November is almost over. I think the whole furnace fiasco made the month seem a lot shorter than it actually was. That and my workload hasn't decreased… not that I'm complaining.

Had a somewhat slower week with television. I stuck mainly to marathons during the day. I did get some old-school Midsomer Murders watched along with several episodes of JAG.

I watched another episode of Riverdale and, man, Edgar is super creepy. Also, I still dislike Hiram with the passion of a thousand suns. I actually loved the whole shakedown of the gargoyles. The filming of that scene had me glued to the screen.

Other than that, I'm halfway through an episode of Murdoch Mysteries and really hoping they're not going to have Julia and William break up over the doctor who has the hots for her. I'd be very disappointed.

I also had a run of Classic Who episodes on Pluto TV. Nice to have that on in the background when I'm getting the dishes done or folding clothes.

That's pretty much it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Breaking Through, a follow up to Guarded Chance, featuring Echo and Race on the next part of their journey.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Race Markington finally has Echo Dart, the woman he wants to spend the future with. His one problem? She's been brainwashed by the enemy and he has to find a way to break through and get his Echo back.

And a sneaky peek…

Echo Dart came to with a violent jerk. "What the hell?" Zip cuffs secured her wrists and ankles.

Her mind flashed back to the compound and she struggled to get free.

"Echo, don't. You'll only end up hurting yourself."

Race. Memories flooded her brain. (Add in the detail about the sex?) She swung her gaze toward him and bile rose in her throat. His arm sported a bandage and, added to the dull throb along her temple, she put a few of the pieces together. A vague image, just a little out of reach, of her hand closing around a knife hovered in her memory. Fuck. I'm the reason he's injured.

She groaned. "What did I do?" Her eyes slid shut and she resisted the urge to scream.

Race traced a finger along her cheek. "You don't remember?" He kept the touch brief, easing back.

Echo's eyes popped open and she glanced in his direction. "It's there but it's not." She shrugged. "Almost like I can see what happened, but I don't remember doing it." Her shoulders slumped. "That sounds so stupid." The whole being free thing kind of sucked right now.

Race shook his head. "No, it's accurate. That's pretty much what happened." His forearm rested on his knee. "It's like you were acting without volition. You were the one wielding the knife, but your eyes were vacant, lost." His hand absently rubbed at his bandage.

Echo straightened as much as the restraints would let her. "Shit. It figures. The soul mate crap didn't take so they formulated a backup plan." Her gaze met Race's. "Make me kill my fellow soldiers." Fear, real and deep, bit down hard on her heart. "How the hell do I come back from that?" Better yet… how did she stop it from happening?

Race didn't waver. "I don't know. But you will come back, Echo. We'll find a way."

We. We'll find a way.

When he should abandon all hope, he didn't. An odd warmth spread through her. Finally. Finally, she could and would rely on someone to fill the dark places and empty spots in her life. She didn't need a savior, but she wanted a partner; someone to calm the storm or spur her to action.

Race.

Angling her head to the side, she rested it on his shoulder. "You know, I think we will." Reaching her pinkie finger out, she hooked it around his.

A tiny gesture, but until they discovered her trigger, she didn't want to risk too much.

I think this book and the preceding one are going to be in a special group called Mind Games. I have a few different stories started that feature some type of mind-bending trope.

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

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Breaking Point (Scorched Homeworld 3)

I have a new furnace! It's shiny and pretty and takes up a lot less space than our old one did. And it's amazing how nice and toasty the house is again. Here's hoping the much-improved energy efficiency pays off too.

My workload is still crazypants. Trying to get prepped for having the equipment going in and out of our house didn't leave me a lot of time the past week. I also have a goal of seriously getting rid of a bunch of stuff that's been collecting in odd, random places for the past two decades.

I did get some television watched, starting with another episode of Midsomer Murders. I think I might have found the show I'll be replacing Midsomer with, but I have made a final decision yet.

Caught a few more episodes of Sapphire and Steel and watched a full arc of Classic Who. Sapphire and Steel is actually pretty interesting with a different style.

Watched a Halloween episode of Murdoch Mysteries, which ended up being pretty fun. I love it when William has to deal with people and things he doesn't feel comfortable with. Pretty cool variation on the theme song also.

Also caught another episode of Frankie Drake Mysteries. I really do like this show and the friendship between Frankie, Trudy, Flo, and Mary. My favorite season is still the first one, but if this is going to be a long-haul show, I'm down with the changes to the style.

That's pretty much it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Breaking Point, a follow up novel in what I'm referring to as the Scorched Homeworld series. Definitely a working title there.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Molly and Sloan are rock solid until the fleet reaches its breaking point and their relationship is one of the casualties… or so they want everyone to think.

And a sneaky peek… (a little on the sexy side)

Molly stood under the hot spray, waiting for Sloan to arrive. Her first mission objective accomplished, she let her mind dwell on the lack of progress. Something had to give soon or Sloan wouldn't be the only one feeling the crunch. And if any more civilians died, she hated to think how it would play out in the press. She might not credit the reporters with knowing their asses from an airlock, but they could cause all kinds of trouble the fleet didn't need right now.

Even anticipating Sloan's arrival, she'd been lost in thought and jumped a bit when his hands cupped her breasts and his mouth nuzzled her throat. Turning, she traded places with him and shoved everything else from her mind.

"Water's hot." She gave him a nudge and let him duck under the stream.

Sloan's head tilted back and water sluiced over his face. Molly's eyes tracked the rivulets as they slithered down his chest and torso before branching off to roll along his hips and legs. She moved in close, picked a droplet and chased after it with her finger. Sloan's stomach muscles rippled under her touch and his head dropped forward. He grabbed the soap and poured a small amount on his chest before adding some to the palm of his hand.

Molly took the hint and smoothed her hands over his skin working up a good lather. Sloan returned the favor and the heat of the shower notched up another degree. The way his fingertips ghosted over her skin made her shiver under the hot spray of the water. Her tongue darted out, the urge to follow the trail of suds sliding in tempting pathways over his torso too strong to resist. She licked a trail from his shoulder to his groin, dropping to her knees, her mouth wrapping around Sloan's rock hard erection.

His hips thrust forward and he groaned. "Feels good, Molly." His fingers smoothed over her scalp.

Molly swirled her tongue around the tip of Sloan's cock then sucked the length to the back of her throat. Sloan moaned and the ball of tingling awareness in Molly's stomach spread outward along all of her nerve endings. She bobbed her head back and forth, listening to Sloan's breath rasp out, letting the exquisite feeling of anticipation build until she couldn't stand it anymore.

Rising, her lips met Sloan's and he lifted her, entering with a smooth thrust. Molly tore her mouth from his with a groan. Her head dropped to his shoulder and she reached out, shutting the water off. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she rocked her hips, meeting Sloan's rapid staccato pace.

The knowledge she made him forget the problems plaguing the fleet—at least for a while—gave her a heady sense of power. The feel of him going deep, the sound of his harsh breathing, the look of ecstasy on his face… everything combined to overwhelm her senses. Would they ever lose the skill to affect each other on such a primal level?

I honestly doubt Molly and Sloan will ever lose that particular skill, but they might have to pretend to for a while.

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

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Boxing Day

Whew. This week flew right by. We're still waiting on our new furnace, which I should have by my next post. My workload is bananas right now and I didn't get a chance to watch much television due to deadlines. It's also been a busy week with my daughter's golf banquet and awards ceremony and state band competition.

I started a new episode of Blue Heelers but stopped midway through so I need to finish it up this week.

I started out with Midsomer Murders and watched the first episode of the final series. The new coroner is kind of fun and recognizable from a Doctor Who episode, at least that's where I remember her from.

I'm limping through the Riverdale musical episode "Big Fun". I keep stopping the action because I don't want to miss anything. I can honestly say I'm impressed with the way this episode is put together. I love how many of the group is involved in the musical. The only thing I'm not a fan of is how much screen time Eleanor is sucking up. I realize there's a reason for it but she's right up there with Hiram in the characters I love to hate department. I do think I'll have time to finish up later tonight or early tomorrow. Then it's off to the new season of Arrow, where I'll probably weep through every episode.

I caught a few holiday movies in the background during the workday and also ended up catching a bunch of Blue Bloods episodes.

That's pretty much it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Boxing Day, a sexy short that started with a writing community prompt that suggested creating a story that seems to go in one direction but ends up not being what readers will think it is. I love challenges like that.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Aeryn Gray packs up the personal belongings of Nash Nitali and spies a pair of boxing gloves. The sight takes her back through their weird brand of courtship and she takes some time to reminisce about their long, tangled affair.

And a sneaky peek…

Aeryn chuckled and pulled her hand out of the glove. "Not the best start but, man, did it set the tone for everything that followed." The ebb and flow of their relationship had an up and down pattern that rarely stayed smooth.

Or got boring.

Pushing the gloves inside the box, she picked up a wrist band, running her fingers over the engraved name, Joseph Malone. "Geez. I can't believe he kept this." Nash's mentor and pretty much the only father figure he'd had.

Joe taught Nash everything he knew about boxing and Aeryn got to see both in action. Nash went toe-to-toe with the old man… until he didn't.

Joe stopped moving, putting his gloved hands on his hips. "Quit pulling your punches, Nash. What the hell?" He jabbed Nash in the shoulder.

Nash opened his mouth but Joe gave him the stink eye.

Nash's shoulders slumped. "I'm not really pulling them, just taking it a little easier than usual."

Aeryn winced. Way to go, Nash. That'll go over well.

Joe growled. "Do I look like I need you to go easy?" His eyebrow arched, daring Nash to say otherwise.

Nash's head snapped up. "Didn't say you did. Maybe I'm going easier because I've had a tough week."

Aeryn rolled her eyes. While true, Malone wouldn't consider it a valid excuse.

Joe punched Nash's bicep. "Get your damn head in the bout or get out of the ring." He got into a fighting stance.

Nash blew out a hard breath and bent his elbows, matching Joe's crouch. "Fine. Let's go." He started shuffling his feet and moving into a wide arc.

Nash did as requested and got his head into the match. Two rounds later, he landed a jab that sent the old man down, knocking him out. Aeryn had the smelling salts ready and Joe jerked, coming to with a grin on his face.

He sat up. "'Bout damn time you beat me." He stuck out a hand and Nash helped him stand. "Nice round, Nasher." He slapped Nash's back with his glove.

Nash lifted his chin. "You okay?" To his credit, he didn't show overt concern.

Malone laughed and shot Aeryn a sideways glance. "He asks if I'm okay. How do I look, lieutenant?" He swiped at the sweat dotting his forehead.

Aeryn snorted. "You look like an old man with a solid need to keep his young protégé in check." Her lips curved in a smirk.

Joe guffawed. "Damn, Nash. You weren't kidding about that smart mouth of hers." He tossed a glove off and thrust his hand forward. "I like you, lieutenant. You're all right."

Aeryn clasped his palm and gave him a firm shake. "A high compliment, sir. It's nice to meet you." She settled back down on the bench to wait for the guys to get a shower.

Nash owed her dinner since he'd won the bout.

And she had a hankering for steak.

I enjoy trying new things and playing with the mood of a story. Not everyone is a fan of flashback tales, but this one begged for a small twist on that trope.

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

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Bombs Away

November 3, 2019

Hello, November. The temperature dropped significantly, which kind of sucks for my household since we can't get our new furnace until the middle of next week. That said, with some careful placement, space heaters are doing an excellent job of keeping the house comfortable. As long as we don't dip into single digits, we're golden.

Not a bad week for television. I have a heavy workload right now, but still squeezed in some decent viewing.

I started out with Riverdale and, wow, what a great episode. I'm still catching up from last season so this episode featured FP's fiftieth. Cole Sprouse and Skeet Ulrich brought their A games. Also loved the linked montage of Archie's king of the mountain battle with Cheryl and Toni's hot session in the speakeasy. The breakup ended up being a lot more painful than I anticipated but excellent work from the women. Reggie and Veronica's falling out also packed a punch. Reggie is very much growing on me as a character. A few random notes… I absolutely hate the entire farm storyline. I also dislike Hiram with the passion of a thousand suns going supernova. Don't see that changing anytime soon.

I finally got to sit and watch Arrow's season finale. I can honestly say the ugly crying didn't stop after the credits rolled. Everyone acted their collective asses off—Stephen and Emily in particular. Stephen, quite frankly, blew me away. Watching him evolve as Oliver over seven seasons has been a true joy. Seriously… I'm going to miss this show so much. My one main disappointment is not getting any scenes with Oliver and Mia. I'd love to see the two actors interact.

I thoroughly enjoyed Murdoch Mysteries. Nice to see George's family tree expand and with such a terrific character (pun intended). I have so much fun watching this show.

Frankie Drake Mysteries also made me smile. I'm still getting used to the new opening and the somewhat different shift in the show's dynamic. That said, it's growing on me and I like the fabulous foursome and their interactions.

Caught a new story arc on Sapphire and Steel. This show is usually background noise for me when I'm working and I have the horrible feeling I'm really missing a lot. I'm going to make an effort to really focus when I start the third assignment.

Watched the beginning of series nine with Classic Who. The daleks returned to be a huge pain, per usual. I always enjoy episodes that feature them.

Should be catching another episode of Midsomer Murders in the very near future.

That's it for this week. Tonight's post is from Bomb's Away, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

A power struggle, an explosion and communication breakdowns. Sometimes it takes a really big boom to move things in the right direction.

And a sneaky peek…

Kiara couldn't help feeling awkward even though she'd flagged Ronan to her side. They might not be together anymore, but his presence was a welcome gift. Triaged and tagged as low priority—rightfully so—she couldn't move from her spot and it made her insane.

She hated the immobility, but her knee, screwed up and swollen, meant she couldn't do anything anyway. Getting thrown a dozen feet and being trapped under debris would do that. She only heard snatches about an explosion and suicide bomber and wanted some answers.

Ronan would fill her in on the situation, regardless of their off again status. “Hey, is it true? A suicide bomber?” What the flaming hell is going on?

Ronan leaned on the side rail of the cot. “Yeah, it looks that way. Took out half a causeway on SL3.” His eyes searched her from head to toe, concern fading way to relief.

She looked a hell of a lot better than when they had first wheeled her into sickbay. She'd been covered with dust and dirt and appeared more injured than she'd actually been. Not that a busted up knee didn't hurt like a bitch.

Kiara wracked her brain trying to figure out what the bomber could have been after. She couldn’t think of anything.

“What the hell’s on SL3 worth blowing yourself up for? All that's down there is—” Wait a minute… Carmody's special dignitary suite happened to be on that level? He'd chosen the one at the very end of the hub. The possibility of him as a target would bear some thinking on later.

Ronan scanned the chaos before answering. “From what I hear… nothing of huge importance. Carmody isn't on the base at the moment. But the bomber didn't get the intended target.” He looked back at her. “We got lucky. The XO and the big man himself stopped whoever it was before he got where he was going.”

Ronan's comms beeped and he checked his panel. “Listen… I gotta go.” He didn't seem to want to leave, probably knew it killed her to not be in on the action. But at least he'd be involved in getting everyone cleared from the debris and maybe find out what was going on.

Kiara waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine.” He gave her hand a quick squeeze and fought his way through the throng to head back out.

Kiara heaved a sigh. Jesus, look at the mess that son of a bitch left behind. She didn't know why it bothered her so much, but it did. Maybe because she couldn't do anything about it, it frustrated her that much more. She already hated having to stay in sickbay, but she'd just be in the way until they fixed up her leg. The swelling hadn't even gone down yet. Hopefully Ronan would come by to see her later and fill in the details.

On the outs or not, she figured he'd at least stop in to give her the rundown of what was happening. They'd always be friends, no matter what. And there was nothing like a bomb exploding to put petty disagreements in perspective.

What did their stupid issues matter in the grand scheme of things? Not a hell of a lot. Kiara looked forward to seeing him later so she could share that with him.

I like this story so much. I'm getting close to having it complete and I'm looking forward to launching it out there to see what everyone thinks.

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

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Blaze on Beltane

Bleh. I found out we need to get a new furnace because ours is old, horribly inefficient, and very dangerous. Fun news I didn't really need or want. The good news is the new furnace will be super energy efficient and probably save us a buttload of money overall. I definitely won't complain about that.

Had a semi-decent viewing week. I caught two episodes of Midsomer Murders and should be ready to start the final series. I'll be sorry to see Cam go. I liked her.

Caught episodes of Murdoch Mysteries and Frankie Drake Mysteries. I'm kind of on the fence with the new season of Frankie. I liked the first episode but it feels like a very different show. I loved the first season, enjoyed the second season, so I'm hoping I'll fall into a groove with the third. We'll see how it goes.

Finished up the first story arc of Sapphire and Steel. I rather like the show. I'll give the rest of the season a whirl and see how it goes with this one too.

Watched the rest of Classic Who's season eight. I'll be starting season nine this week.

I should also be catching the final episode of Arrow's season seven run. I'm trying to savor every last moment because season eight is the final bow.

That's pretty much it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Blaze on Beltane, a working title that ties into the Capital City Seasons series.

Here's the mini-blurb:

An arsonist strikes Capital City, setting blazes, each more devastating than the last, on the lead up to the Beltane holiday. Graham McClain is called on to analyze the firebug's actions and help get a handle on his next move. Fire captain Prima Alton works closely with Graham and together they discover she plays a role in the culprit's twisted fantasies.

And a sneaky peek…

Graham McClain knocked on his boss's doorjamb. "Hey, Murph. Got a second?" He entered the office when Ben Murphy gave a nod. "I just got a call from the fire marshal about a series of fires in the quad. They think they've got a firebug and want someone to analyze the data to maybe get a handle on their next move."

Murph quirked an eyebrow. "And the someone they want is you, right?" He leaned back in his chair a smug grin on his face.

Graham lifted a shoulder. "You've been singing my praises all over town, so yeah, they want me." He owed a huge debt of gratitude to Murph.

Murph leaned forward again, his eyes narrowing. "But you're… what? Not willing to take the project on? Is there a problem I need to know about?"

Grahan shook his head. "No, it's not that." How do I admit I have serious imposter syndrome? "More like I'm not sure I'm ready." How stupid do I sound right now?

Murph blinked then frowned. "That's bullshit. You've been ready. What's really got you concerned?" He leaned back again, crossing his arms over his chest.

Graham sighed and moved further into the office. "Capital City is where we call home. I don't wanna fuck this up, not where we live, not where you've built an unimpeachable reputation." Graham moved to Capital City to work for Murph and he wouldn't risk letting him down.

Ben rolled his eyes. "Your record speaks for itself, Graham. They wouldn't have asked for you if it didn't." He unfolded his arms and pushed up out of his chair. "The number of times I've talked you up doesn't mean jack in a situation like this. If they didn't believe you had the chops, they wouldn't have requested you." He came around the desk and planted his hip on the side. "That said, you've got backup here. Me, Margo, Melanie. We're all on deck right now. Use us." He waited a beat. "If you even need to."

Graham huffed out a breath. "Geez. I always forget how damn good you are at laying facts out and removing obstacles." Even self-inflicted ones.

Murph slapped Graham on the back. "My man, you also forget how damn good you are at doing the same. Call them back and set up the meeting."

Graham gave a nod. "Thanks, Murph." He made his way to the doorway and exited out into the central hub of the suite. "I will not let you down."

I'm having a lot of fun writing Graham and his interactions with everyone. I've been dying to get to his story for a while now.

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

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: The Baracas File

Well, another homecoming house party is in the books and I'm so thankful we had such a great group of kids to host over the last four years. A few faces came and went, but for the most part, the core group has remained the same. I'm looking forward to seeing what this group of kids ends up doing in the future.

It's been a crazy week with a ton of work projects coming in and I'm truly thankful to be busy. Sometimes my projects dwindle a little in the fall and that doesn't seem to be the case this year.

A limited week of television, but some good progress made. I started a new classic British series called Sapphire and Steel. It's pretty decent with some time-wimey elements.

I also started a new arc of Classic Who. I didn't realize quite how much of a role the Master had in the third doctor's run.

Caught an episode of Midsomer Murders and thoroughly enjoyed it. I'm almost through with series nineteen and have the final season to watch.

Watched another episode of Arrow and should be ready to start the new limited season eight in the near future. I started the penultimate episode but had to pause to get ready for homecoming. I'm going to miss this show so much when it's gone.

Also viewed an episode of Murdoch Mysteries and quite enjoyed it. I'm a little wary of what they're possibly doing with Julia, but we'll see how things go.

Finished up Frankie Drake Mysteries second season and look forward to starting the third. I'm pretty excited to see where things go from here.

Caught another episode of Riverdale. I can honestly say the whole farm thing really kind of annoys me. That said, this show tends to pull off a few twists that end up making me like what I didn't before. With the exception of Hiram. I love the actor but truly hate the character.

Also started another episode of Blue Heelers but have to pick it back up this week. Ran out of time to finish watching it.

That's pretty much it for television this week. Tonight's post is from The Baracas File, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Briggs Felderzon, an investigative reporter, will stop at nothing to discover what's in the Baracas File, the contents of which results in his brother's death. Myrrh Gold, his brother's partner in the Inter-Stellar Police, decides to help him… but Briggs isn't sure he trusts her.

And a sneaky peek…

Briggs Felderson entered his apartment via the underground tunnel. "Damn, I hate meeting with sources who can't deal with tech." His informant didn't trust anything electronic.

Briggs refrained from pointing out that paper trails couldn't be encrypted and didn't provide any more safety. Why bother? Especially when the source's information usually paid off in big ways.

Briggs flexed his fingers. "The writer's cramp sucks ass." He retrieved the notebook he'd almost filled with details of a possible police corruption story and made his way to his office.

He wanted a shower and about three days of sleep, but both would have to wait until he got the notes scanned into his computer. He started the first few pages then grabbed his phone to check for messages.

The display showed two from the news center. "Eh, the bosses can wait." He'd informed his editor he had a hot lead, another day wouldn't hurt.

His brother's name flashed as the next contact. Briggs pressed the screen to replay the message. He hadn't heard from Zell in almost a month.

"Yo, Briggs, listen. I've gotta be quick here. Push for all the intel you can get on something called the Baracas file."

Something in Zell's voice set Briggs's teeth on edge. Fear. His brother's tone carried fright of someone or something.

"Bro, I need you to keep a lid on whatever you find. Talk to no one. I mean it. I'm sitting on a pile of explosives and can't trust anyone but you." Zell's voice took on an urgent timber. "And you need to keep watch for Myrrh—"

Pop. Pop. Pop-pop-pop.

Briggs blinked, his brain scurrying to keep up with what just happened. A muffled sound of his brother's phone landing with a thud, the screech and squeal of tires zooming off, and finally, a beep when the call dropped told a sinister tale.

A cold chill slithered down Briggs's spine but he switched screens and dialed Zell's number. The call went straight to voice mail and the chill turned to ice in his veins. Fighting a wave of nausea, he started to call the precinct but a knock at his door drew his attention.

Getting up, Briggs walked toward the door, each step taking him closer to a certainty he didn't want to face.

Someone had killed Zell—keep watch for Myrrh—and it might have been his partner.

This story is so much fun. I love writing cat and mouse moments between characters and showing how they finally come to trust each other. Briggs and Myrrh are going to need each other if they want to find Zell's killer.

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

ML Skye