My week in TV started with an intense episode of Walking Dead and kept amping up from there with Arrow and Bitten. I kind of wish I had a Chris Hardwick type to decompress with after watching the latter two also. LOL Seriously, the season finales may break my brain. And the glimpses we're getting of Orphan Black have me impatiently waiting for April 19.
Tonight's post is from, Mirror of the Mist, my urban fantasy spin on Snow White.
Here's the tagline:
An urban riff on Snow White, Cecelia Dumond, a black arts priestess, tasks Dys Hunter to assassinate her counterpart, a mystic oracle named Lyric Song. Dys goes undercover in a fight club to gain access to the powerful beauty. Little does he know, she's the one to lead him home, back to his rightful place as heir to his father's empire.
And a preview snippet…
Lyric focused on the leaves from Syd's drained teacup. A small grin twisted her lips. The man hated drinking the strong brew and always gulped the hot liquid in several swallows, thinking it helped speed the process along.
Someday she'd tell him otherwise. The divination came at its own pace, unfolding in her mind with fuzzy imprecision until the subtle nuances sharpened and formed a crisper, clearer image. Sometimes the pictures solidified in seconds, but usually several minutes passed before she could make an interpretation.
Syd lost quickly lost patience. "Well, come on, what's in the leaves?" He paced back and forth, the clomp of his boots a distraction.
Lyric shot him a quelling glance. "Syd, you know how this works." She turned her attention back to the leaves and concentrated.
The picture slowly formed, blurry at first, then crackling with a burst of clear, bright vividness. Lyric let her eyelids slide shut and followed the path of three men, walking shoulder to shoulder along the lengthy corridor leading to her inner sanctum, also known as her office. Two fighters on her roster flanked the third… she waited for a better glimpse, patiently waiting for a shift in the dynamic of the image. Using a subtle nudge, she homed in on the unknown in the group, finally catching a good look at his chiseled features. A face she recognized and knew well, but decades younger and carrying the features of her mentor.
Lyric gasped and blinked, her gaze flying to Syd. "You have to leave. Now." She held up a hand when he opened his mouth. "I'll explain. But later." She rose and hurried around the desk, jerking her head toward the rear exit when a loud pounding sounded on the main door. "Go, Syd. You can't be here for this." She took a position behind the tea service, pouring a cup.
He narrowed his eyes, but followed her order and quietly left via her private entrance.
Excitement mixed with trepidation. A second series of knocks kicked her heartbeat up another notch. A moment she'd long awaited for, an event she'd foreseen directly after saving Syd's life would come to fruition. She raised the porcelain container to her lips, inhaling the heady scent of the brew.
The aroma calmed her racing heart and Lyric called out. "Enter!"
The door burst open and Lyric steeled herself to meet the man who would cross the threshold.
A prompt from one of my writing communities wanted a retelling of Snow White and this is the very first scene that popped into my head once I had the idea concept down. I'm going to have so much fun playing with these characters. :D
That's it for this week.