Sunday Snippet: Hart's Masquerade

Terrific week on the great office cleanout! I got a ton of shredding done and cleared out from under my table and desk. I got a great hand-vac that did an awesome job of getting the carpet cleaned up. The cabinet I got to put under my desk fits really well and I'm closer to being sorted and organized! One more cabinet for under my table and three bookcases to go. Okay, not quite true. I still have a major amount of shredding to do and then I have the rest of the finding where to put everything phase. But … I can already notice a big difference in having a semi-clear area to work in. It's amazing!

Kind of a slow week for television. I'm working on a developmental edit that requires a lot of focus so I don't use anything as background noise.

I watched a lot of Silent Witness. I'm well into the third season and I like the cast changes.

I also caught several more rune videos. They're actually quite relaxing as well as informative.

Last but not least, I watched the first season finale of The Witcher. Gotta say, I thoroughly enjoyed it. I rather liked getting a small bit of backstory about Geralt. Also quite impressed by the mages and Yennifer's role in the battle. I've been a little on the fence with her character but she's definitely growing on me.

That's pretty much it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Hart's Masquerade, a Specter Station novella.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Wicek Hart deals in precious gemstones throughout the galaxy and he's the premier wholesale supplier for jewelry boutiques. Nettie Strand is an accomplished jewel thief, but only because she's trying to reclaim her family's stolen property. Wicek smells a setup when Nettie applies for the job as spokesperson for the gala event to be held on Specter Station, his new base of operations, during the Lover's Holiday. Nettie knows the business inside and out and Wicek takes a chance by hiring Nettie, if only to keep a very close eye on her actions.

And a sneaky peek…

Wicek Hart exited his transport ship and grinned when he spotted Juna Newberry, the head of security for Specter Station. "Hello, Juna. Where's your lesser half?"

Mattox Specter called out from behind the ship. "I heard that, you ass." He came around, his hand gliding over the docking cables. "You were right, she's a beauty."

The she he referred to would be the Hart's Desire, Wicek's brand new armored cruiser designed for him to travel in comfort but still maintain and secure his precious cargo … namely lots and lots of gemstones.

But Wicek never resisted the opportunity to twist his friend's words. "And yet none of us can figure out how she ended up with you." The she he referred to being Juna, Mattox's most definite better half.

Mattox quirked an eyebrow. "She's a woman of very discerning taste." He waited a beat. "Plus I met her first and worked hard to make sure she wouldn't waste her time on my new business partners."

Juna laughed. "She is standing right here and ready to do the secure transfer." Glancing up, she motioned for her second in command to come forward. "Ned, we'll be storing Wicek's collection in the central hub, away from the other collectors' display pieces." She used a scanner to log the case codes and handed the crate off to Ned.

He took the scanner and nodded. "I'll take these to the location and log the time the vault closes. These are the pieces for the live display? The ones for the masquerade?"

Wicek tapped the top of the crate. "That they are. All I need now is to find the perfect spokesperson to make the gems come alive." He met Mattox's gaze. "Did you make any headway on the candidates?"

Ned wheeled the crate out of the landing bay and two armed security personnel fell into step beside him.

Mattox jerked his head toward the transport tube. "We did. Let's talk about it in my office."

Wicek narrowed his gaze but followed the couple into the lift. When they exited and entered the office, Mattox's freakishly efficient AI administrative assistant greeted them.

"Hello, Mattox, Juna. Welcome to your new base of operations, Wicek."

Wicek's lips kicked up in a grin. "Thank you, Wanda." He jumped right into business. "What's kind of challenge am I facing with the spokesperson?" Something about the way Mattox and June changed the subject earlier had his hackles up.

Juna stepped forward. "Wanda, would you show the three candidates?" The holoscreen flashed three images with vital statistics. "I have hard copies for your review, Wicek, but the three applicants meet the criteria you gave—darker looks to complement the jewel tones, experience with gems and the terminologies, and availability for an exclusive contract." She paused and met Mattox's gaze. "Wanna take over?"

Mattox nodded and widened the view of the first woman. "Harley Fein is probably the best candidate but she can only go exclusive for two quarters." The screen shifted and the middle applicant grew larger. "Benita Capman can go exclusive long-term but can't get her until the evening before the gala." He paused and exchanged a look with Juna.

Wicek shook his head. "Challenges to be sure, but what's going on? There's something about the third applicant? What are holding back?"

Juna switched the focus to the third potential spokesperson. "As you know, between Wanda and I, we've got a fairly extensive reach for background information." She brought up a detailed list. "Nettie Strand, at least on the surface, is perfect. She can go exclusive on a long-term basis and she's got degrees in gemology and mineralogy…"

Wicek arched a brow. "But…" Obviously something set off the alerts.

Mattox zoomed in on the list. "She's never been arrested, but Wanda's reports pulled this in." He pointed to a block of information. "Over the last five years, Nettie has been in seven different areas where a major jewel theft has been reported." He stopped, letting the reveal sink in.

Wicek studied the screens. All the women had the look he wanted. The first two, he could probably make concessions for, but he'd rather not if he didn't have to. Nettie Strand … the name pinged for him but he couldn't place why. The idea she might be an accomplished jewel thief gave him pause, but without proof, he couldn't strike her from the list.

Meeting Mattox's gaze, he shrugged. "Let's set up interviews. First thing tomorrow, if possible."

Mattox quirked an eyebrow. "For all three?"

Wicek did a quick gut-check. "Yeah. All three." He'd made a career and a considerable fortune on speculative risks.

Mattox cocked his head. "Okay. Wanda, can you schedule Harley and Bonita for interviews at the earlier time they're available tomorrow?"

Wanda confirmed, "Yes, Mattox."

Wicek held up a hand. "What about Nettie?"

Juna's lips curved. "In her case, you're in luck. Nettie happens to be on station and will be available at your convenience."

I love where this story is going. I'm in the process of brainstorming the scenes and story beats and it's coming together nicely. Can't wait to get this series out into the black.

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

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Hard Call

September 20, 2020

Kind of a crazy week. Honestly, 2020 can hurry up and be done. Thankfully, only a few more months.

Not a bad week for television. I finished up the first season of Silent Witness and got a running start on the second. I'll have it finished up this week.

I got to catch the behind the scenes video for Dirty, Sexy Saint. Really enjoyed the actors in that movie.

Also started a series of videos about casting runes. It's a topic I've long been interested in and I'm having fun learning about the practice.

Last but not least, I finally got to watch the series finale of Strike Back. There's so much I want to say about this episode! First and foremost, a heist. Seriously. That was actually a lot of fun. The double cross was also a nice little wrinkle. Breaking things down from the beginning. I loved how Coltrane got out of the gulag. Having Wyatt there and their banter was so awesome. I mean, who else but Coltrane would take a detour during a carefully planned escape? And horses! Excellent. Having Novin take on the entire casino security force also proved to be a wild ride. I'm going to miss her a lot. Loved the beats between the characters when she got back to the apartment and almost took out Wyatt.

The heist itself ended up being an awful lot of fun, with the exception of Gracie getting shot. The boat ride out ended up being beautifully filmed. Then, to find out the big reveal about the, well, I guess it's not really a double cross for the section twenty team, more a double cross of the Russians and Albanians and I love the double meaning behind the comment, "They'll never stop looking for us." Anyway … probably in my top five moments is when Coltrane blithely takes Arianna out then strolls nonchalantly past the pool boy. But my favorite moment is at the very end when the trio heads out to go their separate ways. I mean there can't be a heist episode without the going-off-in-different-directions pan out. Very reminiscent of shows like Leverage or Hustle. Good stuff. Seriously good stuff.

Some final thoughts … the only thing I would have loved as much as the actual ending would have been Coltrane finding Zarkova and / or Wyatt and Novin heading out for lots of adventures. The shipper in me will definitely let my imagination run wild on that front.

Also thoroughly enjoyed the Strike Back Declassified for the series end. I love shows that put behind the scenes or inside looks together for their fans. Having those extras is always a lot of fun, especially when the characters have become like second family.

And … that's pretty much it for television. Tonight's post is from Hard Call, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Wiccam Kidder commands a space cruiser and wears the mantle of command with reluctance. When he makes a hard call and orders Valor Glynne to what may be a certain death, he wants to give up the burden and walk away. But Valor returns and Wic is faced with knowing she'll follow wherever he leads.

And a sneaky peek…

Majah snapped to attention. Valor and Wic didn't. If Cray wanted formality, he'd have announced his docking.

Wic shot his dad a glance. "Got anything better, old man?" He'd like to hear it if he did.

Cray kept his gave level for a moment before meeting first Valor's and then Majah's gaze. "Give us the room." His gruff voice echoed in the small room.

Majah gave a crisp salute before scurrying out.

Valor opened her mouth, but Cray jerked his head. "Don't even." He waved toward the door.

Wic stayed silent, a tactic he'd learned from the elder Kidder. His dad would speak when ready and not before. Besides, Cray would look at the sims and realize they had no other option. They'd run every possible scenario and—

"Wic." Cray's voice cut through the fog. "Find someone else." A note of desperate resolve snuck through.

Wic shook his head. "There is no one else, Dad." No one who had the skill and knowledge and ability to get into the cramped, confined area to plant the bomb.

Cray sliced his hand through the air. "I'll find someone on my ship to—"

Wic cut in. "No, you won't. How's that gonna look? I won't play favorites and neither will you. Morale's already low." Any lower and they'd have a mutiny.

Cray slammed his hand on the planning table. "You're sending her to certain death!"

Wic growled. "You think I don't know that? That I wouldn't give anything to go in her place? But I can't." He couldn't leave this ship without a command officer.

Cray pitched his voice low. "I made a promise to her dad..." He trailed off, unable to continue.

Wic nodded. "I know. To keep her safe. Right before you ordered him to his death." Wic paused but pushed forward. "He was your best friend, Dad, and he knew you might not be able to keep your word." Anyone with military experience would.

Cray frowned. "You don't understand..."

Wic sighed. "Yeah, I do. Why do you think I'd go in her place? But the burden of command means I can't. Something you taught me." A lesson Cray couldn't argue with, no matter how much he'd want to.

Cray's shoulders slumped. "This isn't over." He turned and walked away.

Wic shook his head again. "Believe me, I know." He'd pay for this decision for a long time ... because it would haunt him for the rest of his days.

But at least his father's wrath would fill the huge void losing Valor would leave behind.

I have to say this story is coming together in ways I didn't see happening. I still have a lot of work to do but the bits and pieces are in place and the flow is good.

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

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Hand of Fate

So far, September is off to a decent start. I finished up a few projects this week and look forward to getting back to the great office reorganization.

Kind of a slow week for television. I watched two episodes of Silent Witness. I don't think I've ever seen the first few seasons with Amanda Burton as Sam Ryan. I started watching somewhere in the later seasons.

I also did the usual Ovation mystery marathons. Rather enjoyed Midsomer Murders because they went all the way back to the beginning. Also left wondering why anyone considers The Librarians a mystery show, but I guess it's because they always have to track down the treasures for the library. Not really mysterious in my book, but it doesn't have to be.

I'm hoping to get back on track with finishing up the previous seasons of Roswell, New Mexico and Riverdale. Also need to watch the season finale of The Witcher and the series finale of Strike Back. I've been putting off Strike Back because I really don't want the show to end.

I need to catch up on Wynonna Earp also. I'll probably end up binge watching the whole season.

That's pretty much it for television. Tonight's post is from Hand of Fate, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Ada Kurtz and Clark Wellington are great at their jobs, and either could pull off an upcoming mission. But when Ada gets injured, she's relegated to the sidelines, planning the operation and calling the shots for Clark. He has to take out an enemy satellite which won't be easy without Ada flying his wing.

And a sneaky peek…

Ada Kurtz kicked the locker in front of her—hard—with her good leg. Why, why, why had she been so stupid? Wiping out on a wet floor?

Rookie mistake.

And she hadn't been a rook for a long time.

Damn Clark for using her as the example of what not to do again. Seemed to be his favorite little treat in the morning briefings. Didn't help he'd added the deal with the fitreps to his repertoire, making notations on her record. Okay, so she'd been a little too heavy on the pranks. Not her fault he made such an easy target. He had to cut her some slack, the intel coming in meant a big op would surely follow. They all let off steam when that happened.   

She should've paid attention to the warning pylons. But no, she'd been so damn pissed off Clark had put her on notice—in written form—she'd blundered right past them. The resulting crash tore several ligaments in her knee and that meant no flying.

Wet floors and anger did not go together. At all.

And a bum knee and the sure to be upcoming mission wouldn't mix either. Especially since she'd been grounded.

Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. Her own stupid fault. If she'd back off and cut Clark some slack, he might not use her as a constant example.

But something about him drew her in. "I can't help myself." The guy rarely let loose and she'd made it her mission to bust through the wall of seriousness he surrounded himself with.

At least when he took her to task, he used humor and always laughed. "Someone with his looks should have more fun." She couldn't fault him for being on point.

He wore responsibility well. His broad shoulders evenly carried the weight. He flew with precision and made it look easy. Which commanded her respect.

So why did she always pick on Clark? "Because the guy makes me nuts … but, good god, there's something about him." Always lurking beneath the surface.

They'd dated for a while … a long time ago. It only lasted about a month. Nothing big. Several group gatherings. Dinner. A big race. They hadn't even made it to sleeping together. She'd been just out of flight school and wanted to keep her options open. She'd been very clear about that and he accepted it. He didn't want to start anything anyway. He shipped out two weeks later.

Now she wondered what if all the time. What if she'd suggested they spend the night together? What if she'd asked to see him on leave? What if they'd done more than send quick updates back and forth over the last two years? Would she be less inclined to seek his attention by misbehaving all the time? Who knew?

Growling in her throat, she figured it might help if she could act older than twelve most of the time.

"Lieutenant?"

Ada turned at the sound of her commander's voice. "Sir."

He glanced at her braced and wrapped knee. "We could use your help in planning and tactics. You up for it?" He very nicely didn't mention the reason behind her injury.

The back and forth between her and Clark could count as almost legendary. The commander had warned them that sooner or later something would give.

Turned out to be her knee.

She gave him a half-hearted nod. What the hell, at least she was good for something.

Grabbing her support cane, she jerked her head toward the hatch. "What're we waiting for? Let's go."

 

This one is very close to being complete. I need to finish up the working draft then get in there and refine everything. Looking forward to getting it ready to launch.

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

 

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Gut Punch Feeling

September 6, 2020

Hello, September. The great office reorganization is coming along. If all goes well, I might have the bulk of the work complete by the end of the year. I'm very happy with how everything is going so far.

Not a bad week for television. I finished up the Danger Man episodes that were available. Not sure what I'll start on to replace this one yet.

Caught an episode of Picard and enjoyed it. I'm not quite sure what to make of the guy who's captaining the ship yet. I rather liked getting a little more Ravi backstory.

Watched two more episodes of Peak Practice. I'm getting to the end of the second season and, so far, still enjoying the episodes.

Finished Ms. Fisher's Modern Murder Mysteries. I'd really love to have another season of this show. I feel like the final episode had everyone coming into their own as characters. Maybe we'll get lucky.

Caught another arc of Classic Who. I think I might be ready to start the next season or I'm getting close.

That's it for this week. Tonight's post is from Gut-Punch Feeling, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Evie Roth, a soldier explorer, keeps her promises. But when a sinister plot threatens those she loves, especially Parr Romanoff, she'll break a vow she made long ago … to herself.

And a sneaky peek…

Evie woke up and everything that happened rushed back at her.

Groaning, she flung an arm over her head. "What the hell was I thinking … kissing Parr like that?" She rolled out of her rack and snagged her shower kit.

Parr had someone. A good woman. One Evie would probably like a lot if she didn't have what Evie wanted.

Entering the head, she shook off the jealous thought. "I need to take the high road and let him he happy." He'd tried to do the same for her.

And look where she ended up. Nursing a bruised ego, a crushed spirit, and a really hard knock to her confidence. Rinsing off, she steeled her spine. Nope. That was yesterday.

Today, she had a new journey. "Time to get started." Drying off and getting into a uniform, she exited the head and put her kit away.

The chow line moved quickly and she wolfed down her usual breakfast of scrambled eggs, a bowl of fruit, and two cups of coffee. "A solid eight hours, a hot shower, and grub. Might as well face my biggest obstacle." Meaning Parr.

She could and would be the soldier he needed her to be. Nothing more and definitely nothing less. No more games.

Making her way to the command station, she sucked in a breath and ducked through a doorway when she spied Carol leaving the hub. Pushing down a flash of hurt, Evie waited until the intelligence officer caught up with her aide then turned down the next corridor. Eventually, Evie would be able to make nice, but not today.

Heading into the command area, she quickly found Parr, sitting at his desk. He glanced up when she knocked on the door to the office. Putting an open file aside, he waved her in.

She skipped the preliminaries. "Where did you want me on the duty roster?" She injected as much enthusiasm as possible into her tone.

Parr's eyebrows arched. "Do you want a few days? You've earned some downtime to regroup." He narrowed his eyes, studying her.

She'd love a few days, if she could spend them with him. She finally wanted the life he offered a long time ago. A little too late. And she couldn't be around Parr and Carol right now, even if she wished them the best.

She shook her head. "No, I'd like to stay busy." Preferably out in the field, but she didn't share that thought.

Parr angled his head, gazing in her direction for several long moments. Questions burned, she had no doubt, but he thankfully didn't ask any.

Grabbing a weathered satchel, he set it on the edge of his desk. "If you're up for it, you could head out to the perimeter and get the battle reports." He met her gaze.

Evie flashed a big smile. "Sounds like a plan. I'll get packed up and head out within the hour." She reached for the satchel.

Parr's hand snagged hers. "Are you sure, Evie?" Tenderness lurked in his eyes. "You're allowed to grieve what you lost." He let go, giving her some space.

Evie hooked the satchel over her shoulder. "I'm sure, Parr. Getting back to work, getting out there, will help me do just that." She turned and waved over her shoulder.

Because she would be grieving … but not for losing Steven.

I'm all over the place with this story but it's finally starting to come together. This couple is a challenge but very fun to write.

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: Good for the Soul

We're almost to the end of August and it's been a month. I'm glad we're closing in on the last quarter of the year. 2020 definitely provided a roller coaster ride. And we're not quite through yet.

Had a solid week of work and reorganizing. Made some terrific progress on the office clean out. Got two of my six bookcases put together and shredded a bunch of old stuff I don't need to keep anymore. I still have a buttload of shredding to do but progress is progress.

Got a little bit of viewing done this week, mostly Danger Man episodes. I wanted to finish season three then realized there are only two episodes of season four. I'm disappointed.

I also did a couple of marathon viewings on Ovation. The morning mysteries are a lot of fun and the Monday block of A Place to Call Home is pretty good also. I also caught Partners in Crime, which ended up being better than I thought.

That's pretty much it for television. Tonight's post is from Good for the Soul, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Dex Thurgood has ideals he upholds and wants to keep it that way. But when he's forced to confront a sinister underground trade leader, he has to face his darker nature to bust up the extortion racket, which won't be easy because Ramsey Markum knows one of Dex's deeply buried secrets. Lana Denman steps up to help Dex deal with the fallout of not being perfect.

And a sneaky peek…

Sitting in the transport, Dex observed Leon's open-mouthed awe as the child stared intently out the window. Amazed at his resilience, he seemed to have bounced back from the last few days relatively unscathed. Dex hoped the arrangements he’d made for Darcene and her son were part of the something good. The duo would head to Queen City where Darcene would oversee helping other families in the same situation as hers.

Darcene unbuckled her safety harness and moved to the seat next to him. "You haven't said much and I didn't want to ask in front of Leon, but Ramsey's dead isn't he?"

Dex slid his gaze toward her and nodded. "Yeah." He adjusted the straps on his restraint.

She placed her hand on his forearm. "I'm sorry. For dragging you into this, for telling him about Erica, for, well, everything. You trusted me and I let you down."

"No, you didn't. Markum already knew about Erica. Used to be in business with her father back when he kept a foot in the legitimate world."

Clearly surprised, Darcene commented. "I still gave him the information. Or at least confirmed it."

Dex shook his head. "Look. You didn't have much choice. I get that." He looked back at Leon again. "Don't be twisted up over it."

His driver gave him a heads-up. "Arriving in five, sir."

Dex motioned for Darcene to strap in again. He settled back and listened to the driver request clearance.

When they entered the base, Darcene held Leon's hand along with the boy's small overnight bag. It contained the medication that put Darcene in dire financial straits and prompted her to work off the payment in trade.

She stopped just outside the transport. "You did a good thing. Some of us have a chance now."

Dex shrugged. "There were other ways. I could've chosen a different option." He frowned. "Instead I went with the easiest option." Things always went wrong when he took the easy route.

Darcene tsked. "Perhaps, you think so." Her gaze swept the activity in the huge garage. "And maybe you're feeling the weight of your decision, but others wouldn't. So many of them wouldn't give a damn about a woman and her kid or how they ended up in our situation." Turning to face him, she met his gaze and arched a brow. "And ask yourself this—could you live with yourself if another child got used?" She lowered her voice, hoping to keep Leon from hearing.

Dex didn't have an answer. He had trouble living with right now.

"It would've gotten worse, Dex. You stopped Markum before it could." Her free hand reached out and clasped his. "That does mean something."

He still didn't respond. Couldn't at the moment. Too many thoughts crowded his head.

Darcene flashed Dex an understanding smile. “Go to her, Dex.” She paused and Leon tugged at her sleeve so they could leave. “Give her a chance to fill the empty spots.” Leaning forward, she kissed his cheek. “What more do you have to lose?” Turning, she let her excited son lead her toward the petty officer who waited to show them to quarters.

Darcene had pegged things both right and wrong. Right in that he didn’t have anything else to lose. His ideals were gone. By killing Ramsey, Dex had compromised himself to the point he had no room to judge others. The chancellor, his father, Lana. Things weren’t as black and white as they used to be.

If nothing else, getting to the bottom of the black market showed him how much the shades of gray saved as well as how much they cost. Just how compromised they all were. Every last one of them.

He got it now. He really did.

And oddly, he could live with the new reality he faced … maybe more so now after everything else that had happened.

The part he worried about living with? Telling Lana. Everything. Because the drama went way back … to before the attacks. And he sort of understood where she'd been coming from now … the guilt she had over Mac … for not letting him go out as soon as the battle started. He'd been the first casualty … and Dex's best friend. She considered his death on her head.

I know the feeling. But he'd buried his guilt. Deep.

This story keeps taking twists and turns I didn't expect. It's actually a mess right now, but I've got a block of time scheduled to tear it all apart and piece it back together.

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

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Gentle Valor

Well, we're off to move my daughter into her dorm for her very first semester of college. It's been a crazy whirlwind of a week, trying to get last-minute details nailed down and grabbing all the final items she needs to have with her. Thankfully, I've only got one project that has a deadline and my past self ended up being smart enough to work the move into the due date. Whew.

Not much viewing of television this week. Too many things going on. I did catch another episode of Danger Man, which happened to be another one I hadn't seen yet.

Also got through almost all of Gabriel's Inferno. Like I said, I'm kind of taking my time with this one and thoroughly enjoying it.

Started a new episode of Blue Heelers and a new character has been introduced. So far, he's a bit of dick. Not sure if I'll end up really liking him or hating him a bunch. Time will tell.

I'm really looking forward to having a little downtime once we get the college-bound kid settled in. The whole pandemic thing has completely thrown off my usual groove and I'm not quite sure if I'll get it back or if my new normal will take some getting used to.

That's my week in a nutshell. Tonight's post is from A Gentle Valor, a novella that started with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Aggie Fyffe makes an impossible decision and survives a hellish experience. Haunted by her choice, she faces her demons with a little help from Zane Tetherson and earns a chance for redemption.

And a sneaky peek…

Zane Tetherson returned from patrol and logged off shift. His first stop would be command quarters—before he even grabbed a shower and a meal. His routine hadn't changed in the week since his fellow soldier Aggie Fyffe's disappearance.

Stopping outside the metal structure that housed the visiting field commander and his XO, Zane rapped on the door.

"Enter!" The commander's booming voice carried through loud and clear.

Zane stepped inside and found Colonel Fitz Mayhew finishing up his evening meal. "Sir, my regrets for interrupting your chow time." He stood at attention until Mayhew waved off the apology.

He shifted on his seat. "I'm done, Tetherson. No harm." He wiped his mouth with a napkin. "You're wanting an update on Lieutenant Fyffe but I don't have one." He covered the tray, he slowly got up. "She's still overdue to report in. I sent out a recon team to see if they can kick up any intelligence." Crossing over to his desk, he settled behind it and motioned for Zane to join him.

Zane sat in a chair facing his CO. "I'd like to volunteer during my downtime, sir." Technically, Zane had command of the base, but the brass moved through on a regular rotation.

Mayhew studied Zane for several long moments. "Look, commander, you're a little too close to this, but I won't refuse the extra help." He waited a beat. "Tomorrow. Tonight you need to get some rest and report for duty at your normal time. The men in under your command need to know they can count on you regardless of Lieutenant Fyffe's circumstances." His eyebrows shot up more or less daring Zane to argue.

Zane opted to comply with the order. "I won't let anyone down, sir." He got up and turned to exit quarters.

Mayhew gave Zane a parting shot. "Didn't for a moment think you would, Tetherson."

Zane left and headed for the mess hall. He'd grab a meal, take it back to the quarters he normally shared with Aggie, and then grab a shower and hit his rack. If he wanted to help Aggie, he needed a clear head.

Okay, partially clear. Worry clouded his brain and would continue to do so until they found her. He would not accept the possibility of never seeing her again.

"Where are you, Aggie?"

This story has a way to go but it's finally coming together the way I'd hoped it would.

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

ML Skye