Sunday Snippet: Guarded Chance

September is off to an okay start. Still feeling a little off … not really frustrated more like being stuck in limbo yet feeling like there's something that needs to be done. It's weird.

Had several thunderstorms roll through, which did a lot of back and forth with the temperatures. Today is cool and sunny, but midweek was steamy hot. Pretty sure it'll get to boiling again in the near future.

Not a bad work week. Finished up the proofread and started a new copy edit. I had a great call with a new author, and I'll be starting on a manuscript evaluation this week. Really excited about this book. Also had some breakthroughs on several of my WIPs, which is always a bonus!

Had a decent viewing week. I made it through my usual slate of shows and binged some Death in Paradise again. This show has kind of nudged Midsomer Murders out of the top spot of my go-to shows.

Started the week off with Marple and, again, I really enjoyed the mystery. Kind of fun to see Tommy and Tuppence in their later years.

Watched another episode of Britain's Most Scenic Counties. I enjoy seeing all the green areas in Kent. Also loved seeing the different types of boating available.

Caught another Beyond Paradise. Loved that Kelby's girl actually made it to Shipton Abbot. Kind of hated the awkwardness of the dinner party Anne threw with Mister Smith. But I loved the vague ending when Humphrey went to confront Smith with his decision. Methinks Smith let something very important slip during the dinner. Can't wait to see if I'm right.

The Halloween themed episode of Poirot ended up being such a fun ride. Well, as fun as murder can be anyway. So many twists and turns.

Elementary ended up being pretty interesting. I'm kind of holding my breath with the small clues and hints about the possible serial killer luring Sherlock into a dangerous situation. Also kind of interested in Joan's situation with becoming a mom.

Watched another episode of Young Justice. Thoroughly enjoyed the fallout from the training exercise and also loved seeing Connor interact with the New Genesis team.

Caught another episode of Star Trek Lower Decks and once again loved it. This show is so good.

That's it for the life update this week. Tonight's post is from Guarded Chance, a novella about how a couple navigates their way back to each other after a terrible situation.

Here's the miniblurb:

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 ever 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…

Wilson Prewitt hated the position he'd been put in. Echo gone, the base commander breathing down his neck, and the man Echo couldn't let go of looking like he'd happily shove his fist down Wilson's throat if he didn't start talking in the next three seconds.

Wilson figured he'd better just spit it all out. "It's my fault. I thought—" He stopped and shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I was fed a bunch of lies."

Race looked toward his father. "Is he going to start making sense any time soon, Dad?"

The elder Markinton nodded. "He'd better. I warned him you wouldn't be patient." Rick shot Wilson a stern glower.

Wilson blurted, "I handed Echo over to the enemy." He cowered back into the seat, expecting two hands around his throat at any moment.

Race blinked and his head jerked to the side. "You did what?"

The quiet tone did nothing to ease Wilson's fear.

"I don't think I heard it right. You handed Echo over to the enemy?" Race snorted. "No one hands Echo anywhere. She'd fight or die trying."

Markinton didn't have all the pieces yet. But he would.

"She didn't have a choice. I used a neurotoxin to immobilize her."

Wilson shrank back further when Race leaned forward, his face an unreadable mask.

The other man studied Wilson for a moment. "You better explain yourself, quickly, if you want to live."

Wilson complied. As if he had any other option. The Markinton men didn't make idle threats.

Wilson dropped his gaze, looking at the floor. "I wanted Echo to love me." He finally glanced up and managed not to flinch when he continued. "The enemy raiders have had Echo on their radar since the rebels altered their tactics and started gaining ground. Since it happened after we moved to the camp, they assumed it was based on her instruction." And they weren't wrong. "At first, they left us alone. Echo never talked about serving in the military and neither of us missed our shifts at the power plant. We were making a life and building friendships, the stuff typical couples do." He didn't miss the clenched fist of Echo's former lover.

Wilson wanted to take a measure of satisfaction from the action, but reality reared its ugly head. If any of them wanted to see Echo again, Race had to get on board with trying to find her. The elder Markinton made it clear Wilson didn't stand a chance on his own.

He cleared his throat. "Anyway, that's when the trouble started. Things were fine until the enemy started launching attacks—"

Race cut in. "Look, spare us the sob story and get to the part where you handed Echo over to said enemy because I'm not seeing a reason to get involved here." He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest.

Wilson closed his eyes for a moment. "The short answer is the writing's been on the wall for a while now with Echo. She's not exactly subtle when she's not happy about something." Not even their shared experience broke the steely-eyed countenance of the man across from him. "That's when two men approached me one night after I got off work. They knew about her helping the rebels, knew about the problems in our civil union, and made an offer I couldn't refuse." He stopped; corrected. "Thought I couldn't refuse. They wanted to try a new technique on someone who used to be military but not currently serving for obvious reasons." Namely anyone on an active roster would be listed as missing. "If I gave them Echo, they'd return her with a whole new outlook on life, me, our union. They pretty much guaranteed she'd be mine for life." What an idiot he'd been.

And nothing he said seemed to shake the chilled rage coming from Race. Wilson wanted to bolt; he freaked out a little by the level of coldness that crept into Race's gaze. With each new revelation, more icy shards filled in the blue irises until Wilson would swear the temperature in the room dropped a couple of degrees. Unable to deal with the frigid vibes, he shifted his attention to the elder Markinton.

Rick shook his head. "They're going to break her." He pinned Wilson with a hard stare. "And you knew, somewhere in the deep crevices of your mind, you knew." He got up and stalked back and forth. "If they succeed with Echo, turning her against us with drugs or programming protocols—" He broke off, his fists clenched at his sides.

Race finished the thought. "We're fucked." He met his dad's gaze. "And they'll use both. Don't doubt that for a moment." He swung his attention back to Wilson. "If you have any hope of staying alive, you'll find somewhere to start over. Because the men you gave Echo to … won't need you if they succeed. And if they fail, they'll clean house by killing her and you." He barely kept the disgust out of his tone. "But first, you're going to get the hell out of my quarters and give me time to come to terms with how badly you betrayed her." He got up and crossed over to the hatch.

Wilson followed, shrinking an inch with each step he took. Not physically, obviously, but internally where all the wrong he'd done heavily weighed.

He paused at the threshold. "How long do you—"

Race pointed. "I'll let you know. The old man will show you where you can park your ass—well away from me—until I'm ready." He turned away and addressed his dad. "That a problem for you?"

Rick lifted his chin a notch. "I'll find a place for him. Contact me when you're ready." He crossed the space and nudged Wilson out of room.

Without another word, Wilson fell into step beside the elder Markinton. What else could he do? He didn't dare ask whether Race would actually go after Echo.

Even if Wilson would give his left nut to know the answer.

I loved writing this scene. Sometimes inserting a point of view that isn't the main character(s) can add a lot of weight to the story.

 

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

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Guarded Chance

Final Sunday of August. I'm kind of looking forward to the fall season even if it's going to very different. With a global pandemic and an election coming up, I don't think it'll be the lovely season I always look forward to. That said, cooler temperatures will be welcome. Even though it hasn't been overly hot this summer, I really love the crisp air of fall.

Had a decent week of office reorganization and not a bad one for television viewing, considering I had no power for twenty-one hours thanks to a thunderstorm with wicked nasty lightning. A tree not far from our house got struck and it took out a couple of pole transformers. We were really lucky that we caught a break from the heat of the day before.

Not a bad week for television viewing but not great either. I caught an episode of Peak Practice and enjoyed it. I'm halfway through the second season.

Watched the third episode of Ms. Fisher's Modern Murder Mysteries and it's definitely my favorite of the four episodes. I love the sci-fi feel and the background with Bertie.

Caught the Classic Who run of Genesis of the Daleks arc. I've seen this group of episode before and enjoyed them. It's especially fun because New Who brought in big tie-in to these episodes.

Also watched another episode of Danger Man. I'm on the last two available on Amazon, which makes me sad.

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

Here's the mini-blurb:

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 ever 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…

Echo followed the twisted and confusing path of hallways, hitting a dead end three times before she got herself headed in the right direction. The eerie silence and lack of personnel explained by the swiveling cameras she avoided with training and stealth. She turned yet another corner and found herself … stuck.

Completely, utterly stuck. She'd made it out of the stupid maze of corridors, navigated around the blasted motion detectors only to hit a brick wall. Literally. The doors might be smooth, clear glass, but they looked at least six inches thick. And she knew they'd be reinforced with some high tech material she'd never be able to pronounce.

"Dammit, dammit, dammit. Now what?" Giving up, she sank to the floor, resting her head on her knees.

No way would she go back. When the staff found her, they'd have to kill her. She did not have the drive to hold out anymore.

Lifting her head, she gazed through the doors. So damned close. At least she'd see the sun and sky, green leafy trees ones last time. Hell, even the prickly scrub brush surrounding the complex looked good.

She rolled her eyes. "Geez, how lame." She shook her head, letting it rest on the wall behind her.

So tired, yet she didn’t want to sit still. Loathe to give up the view of the outside, she kept her eyes trained on the doors. The illusion of freedom, almost within her reach, acted as a comforting balm.

Echo caught a flash of movement outside the perimeter of the clearing. "Wait … that can't be right." Another flash, barely perceptible, but there nonetheless. "What the hell?" Scrabbling on her knees, she got up close to the door, squinting against the sunlight spilling through.

Holy hell … a lone figure, a man, stealthily made his way toward the compound. Criminy … it couldn't be—oh, yes, it could—tears pricked behind her eyelids. A wave of emotion almost knocked her back.

"Race."

Race had come for her.

He edged closer, taking cover behind the plentiful sage brush with each forward move. Reaching the wire mesh fence surrounding the clearing, he climbed up and over, avoiding the nasty barbs at the top. His long legs ate the space between the barrier and the building with a mad dash across. Echo almost felt his back hit the bricks when he reached the wall.

Tears streaming, unbidden, down her cheeks, she actually laughed when he ducked around to look inside and his jaw dropped. He hadn't expected to find her practically waiting on his arrival. Why would he?

He blinked and recovered quickly, moving to stand in front of the glass. His eyes scanned for surveillance equipment. Finding none, he placed a hand on the door and Echo's rose to meet it.

Six inches. The only thing separating them … physically. The rest … well, who knew? God, he looked good. Tired, ragged, but so damned good. A feast for her eyes.

Race didn't bother trying the door. Digging into his vest pocket, he motioned for her to take cover and stuck a small incendiary device in the center of the clear surface. Echo moved several yards away, turned and ducked down, covering her head with her hands.

The explosion barely registered before Race scooped her up and carried her over the shattered glass and out to freedom. The palpable relief hit her so strongly she almost blacked out. Race's lips brushed over her hair, his strong arms holding her close. Echo clung, longer than necessary, but God, he felt so solid and real she couldn't help it. And for once she understood the notion of taking strength from someone else. Training kicked in and she wriggled down, ready to run.

Making sure she was steady, his lips quirked. "Figures you pretty much rescued yourself. You never cease to amaze, Echo."

She let out a shaky laugh. "Yeah, well, I didn't much like the company." Her gazed dropped and she hoped she hid the pain and uncertainty from him.

Race lifted her chin and gave her long look, but he didn’t push. They had to get moving. He silently led the way, dropping proximity mines behind them. Reaching the fence, Echo started to climb, uncaring if the metal shredded her bare feet. Raced tugged her down and quickly cut through the mesh, shoving her through and following once she got clear. He walked fifty yards due east, her hot on his heels, then stopped and uncovered a rucksack. Reaching inside, he pulled out a pair of boots, socks stuffed inside, and a set of fatigues.

The damn man thought of everything.

Using hand motions and a quiet voice, Race told her where to find the egress point in case they got separated. Fat chance of that. She stuck to him like glue.

Weak from the ordeal, the hike away from the compound took its toll, but Echo managed to hold it together. Shoving the haunting memories of the past aside, she refused to think about anything but the broad shoulders and hard ass in front of her. And not in a sexual way. The hard body represented her freedom and she wouldn't quit on Race now. He'd risked his life to come for her. That had to mean something. And she finally wanted to have a long overdue conversation about what.

This story is taking some interesting twists and I'm completely here for them. I like it sages throw something unexpected into the mix.

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

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Guarded Chance

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.

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Guarded Chance

Greetings!

Had a very busy weekend editing and writing, and also working the day job. And I need to check my garden, but yeesh, the time totally gets away from me sometimes.

So, let me get to the snippet. Tonight's post is from Guarded Chance, a novella featuring one of my favorite types of characters, a hot mess. :D

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 the sneaky peek…

"I won't go after her."

Race Markinton had zero reaction when the news of Echo's capture came in. What did everyone expect? Another free show in the saga of Race and Echo? Too damned bad. Race had finally washed his hands of her when she hooked up with Wilson Prewitt. Race decided enough had to finally be enough when they spent an entire week together only to return to base and have Echo make a beeline to the first available civilian. Echo crossed a threshold and Race closed the door. He wouldn't let her back in. Not for peace with the enemy. Not for props from the old man. Not for anything. And definitely not this time. He and Echo had been on the journey too damned long with the same result. They got close to something great, she freaked out, and he got to watch her implode. Jabbing himself in the eye with sharp objects would be less painful. So he'd called an end to the farce. Figured the time had long past come to tuck and roll and make a clean break.

The saga of Race and Echo? Over and done with. They were through.

Except the death grip feeling around his heart wouldn't go away. Old habits and all that. And kicking his addiction to Echo Dart couldn't happen over night. His road to recovery wouldn't be paved with good intentions…more like a buttload of heavy baggage.

He didn't plan to check any more.

He expected the knock when it came. No one had to tell him who stood on the other side of the hatch. No summons over the base comms for the new drama. A face to face would be the only way his CO would handle it.

Rising, Race figured he'd let it play out. His commanding officer already knew the answer. Race wouldn't get involved. No way in hell. Undogging the hatch, Race pulled the heavy door open.

A disgusted snort escaped at the sight greeting him. Two men he'd normally not see together. Stepping back, he ushered his unwanted visitors inside.

He tossed a nasty look toward his immediate superior. "You fight dirty, old man."

His CO shrugged. "You had to know I would."

Race nodded toward his small sitting area. "Yeah, Dad, I did." His gaze settled on Wilson Prewitt. "But him? Seriously? Not just dirty, but damned dangerous." Which his father counted on, the urge to punch Wilson always lurked under the surface. A strong emotional reaction would be just the thing Rick Markinton would go for, knowing exactly which of his son's buttons to push.

Really sucked answering professionally to family.

But…it also meant the old man knew Echo's current lover would be the last person Race would ever work with. Race opened his mouth to say exactly what he thought of his dad's tactics.

The elder Markinton cut him off, snarling. "Deal with it, Race. You need to hear him out." He heaved a weary sigh and sank down on one of the chairs. "And listen to what he has to say."

Race didn't like it, but his old man had aged a decade in the last week. Race could play nice.

For now.

Race dogged the hatch, sat down in the closest chair and leaned back. "Fine." He swung his gaze toward Prewitt. "I'm listening."

~:~

Wilson Prewitt hated the position he'd been put in. Echo gone, the base commander breathing down his neck, and the man Echo couldn't let go of looking like he'd happily shove his fist down Wilson's throat if he didn't start talking in the next three seconds.

Wilson figured he'd better just spit it all out. "It's my fault. I thought—" He stopped and shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I was fed a bunch of lies."

Race looked toward his father. "Is he going to start making sense any time soon, Dad?"

The elder Markinton nodded. "He'd better. I warned him you wouldn't be patient." Rick shot Wilson a stern glower.

Wilson blurted, "I handed Echo over to the enemy." He cringed back into the seat, expecting two hands around his throat at any moment.

Race blinked and jerked back. "You did what?" The quiet tone did nothing to ease Wilson's fear. "I don't think I heard it right. You handed Echo over to the enemy?" Race snorted. "No one hands Echo anywhere. She'd fight or die trying."

Markinton didn't have all the pieces yet. But he would.

"She didn't have a choice. I used a neurotoxin to immobilize her."

Wilson shrank back further when Race leaned forward.

The other man studied Wilson for a moment. "You better explain yourself, quickly, if you want to live."

Wilson complied. As if he had any other option.

Ah, Race. He just can't quit on the woman he loves…no matter much he really wants to. :D

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

ML Skye