Sunday Snippet: Ill-Timed Case - A Van Adder Investigations Short

December 29, 2013

I hope everyone survived the holiday!

My family had a wonderful day—no traveling, just staying home all nice and cozy with our new tech gear and good food. I watched more holiday television episodes and said good-bye to Matt Smith's Doctor. I'm still not quite settled in with the idea of the new actor, but I'll give him a chance.

Looking forward to my fave shows returning. Almost Human, Sleepy Hollow, Arrow, The Tomorrow People, Walking Dead, Sherlock, and probably a few I’m forgetting at the moment. Currently watching a Farscape marathon on Pivot then switching over to some recorded stuff I haven't watched yet.

Tonight's post is from the novella, Ill-Timed Case, a Van Adder Investigations Short. If this turns out the way I hope, I may have a little series with my main characters. J

Here's the tagline:

Rex Van Adder, private investigator, has more cases than he can handle. Enter Gracie Lee, a dead body, and Rex scrambles to keep his head above water, especially since he knows Gracie is involved but can't figure out how.

And a preview snippet…

Rex Van Adder climbed out of his automobile and clamped his fedora securely on his head. The rain changed angle every ten seconds, wind gusts making his trench coat billow out then slap back against his legs. He trudged forward, giving a nod to the beat cop standing vigil by the yellow tape, trying to keep the growing crowd back from the crime scene.

Ducking under the flimsy barricade, Rex continued forward until he reached the side of the detective in charge. "Marlow. Care to tell me why you dragged me out on a shit night like this?"

Avery Marlow held up a white card. "Found this on our victim." He flipped the card over, the drenching downpour making the rectangle soggy, but Van Adder Investigations remained legible. "Any idea who this guy is and why someone wanted him dead?"

Rex slid his gaze sideways, gauging Marlow's mood. He had a tolerable acquaintanceship with the detective and worked with him when a situation warranted the need. Rex doubted they'd ever be true friends—Avery's former fiancé landed in the middle of a messy sting operation Rex had running and got herself shot up trying to defend the ringleader—her piece on the side. Marlow walked away with egg on his face and blamed Rex.

"Van Adder? On a shit night like this, I've got better things to do than stand around and wait on you to answer a simple question."

Rex snorted. "Dougray McGuiness. And his list of enemies would have to be short."

Marlow quirked a brow. "Why?"

The rain let up and slowed to a gentle drizzle. Still wet and soggy, but no longer punishing.

Rex considered how much to reveal. "Just got here. As in yesterday. Very hush hush." He opted for the full truth. "He wanted to broker a sale of a valuable gem and called on me to talk security until the exchange could be arranged."

Avery cocked his head. "How does that make a short list?"

Rex answered. "Only two people were supposed to know he'd arrived."

Avery pursed his lips. "And you, right?"

Rex quirked a half-smile. "And me."

Movement caught his eye. A beautiful brunette exited the rear entrance of the speakeasy and blithely strode down the alley like she owned the street. She didn't spare a glance for the crime scene or try to rubberneck like rest of the growing crowd. A red flag pinged for Rex—she had to be one of the two who knew McGuiness had arrived. She would bear watching. Rex started to move, to follow or find out which direction the woman would head for, but Avery pulled his attention away from the female.

"You're not planning to leave the city any time soon, are you, Van Adder?"

Rex slid his gaze sideways. "No, Marlow. I've got cases in play." He craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman. "Vacations are overrated."

Marlow nodded and looked up. "Why leave the glorious gloom of the city, right?" He pinned Rex with his gaze. "Goes without saying if you hear anything…"

Rex waved an acknowledgment. "Yeah, yeah. You'll be my first call." He headed down the alley, hoping he hadn't lost a potential lead.

Ducking around the corner, he glanced both ways and found nothing but an empty stretch of street in either direction.

"Dammit." Rex squinted through the patchy rain. "Where the hell did you go, beautiful?"

~:~

Gracie leads Rex on a merry chase and when he finally catches up with her sparks will fly. Of course. LOL

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Hush

December 22, 2013

Happy Almost Holidays!

The family and I are thisclose to being ready for the merry season. We always wait and decorate the tree a day or two before December 25 so the lights are strung, but nothing else until tomorrow. :D

I'm watching holiday episodes of my favorite TV shows. Warehouse 13, Eureka, Doctor Who, and last year's Arrow episode, Year's End. Up next is Leverage with the Ho, Ho, Ho Job. :D

Tonight's post is from Hush, a magical erotic fantasy where the main characters gets hexed by a former flame.

Here's the tagline:

Kia Bleu and Chip Strachey have a powerful connection and finally give in to their attraction. When Chip's former flame hexes the couple, they have to learn to communicate without words.

And the preview snippet…

Chip followed Kia into the bathroom.

She whirled around. "What in the flaming hell do you think you're doing?" She paced back and forth, fighting the urge to punch him.

Which in and of itself had her questioning her sanity. Thirty seconds ago, they'd been ready to tear out of the lounge and find the nearest dark corner to make out.

Chip grasped her arm and swung her around. "I'm trying to figure out what the fuck went wrong?"

She jerked free, the touch of his hand sending nervous jolts along her skin. Which, again, did not make sense. She wanted the guy… like right now, get naked so they could set the building on fire, craved him.

He huffed out a breath. "Seriously, Kia. What happened? One moment your tongue's down my throat… I open my mouth to suggest we head someplace more private… and you tell me to fuck off and shut up?" He shook his head. "I know you're not a cock tease, so please, explain this shit to me."

Kia closed her eyes for a five count, and then spun back to face him. "I can't!"

The door burst open and she snarled the same time Chip barked.

"Get out!"

The poor, petite red-head, wearing wobbly heels, turned and nearly twisted her ankle trying to flee. Kia glanced up, catching sight of Sadie hovering close to the exit across the bar. A light bulb went off and Kia wanted to kick herself for being so stupid.

Chip's former flame had hexed them. A curse could be the only explanation for the bizarre reactions they were having to each other.

Chip waited for the door to close then blasted her again. "Can't or won't, Kia? You're so damned stubb—"

Kia clamped her hand over his mouth and pushed him back against the wall by the sinks. An angry glare filled his gaze and she quickly held up one finger, indicating he needed to wait and shut the hell up.

Lifting a brow, she silently asked him to give her a chance by jerking her head towards the door. He inclined his head and she lowered her hand, reaching down to grasp his fingers. No itchy or nervous feeling. As long as they didn't speak… the crawly, scratchy feeling didn't seem to exist.

What a marvelously devious hex.

Kia tugged Chip away from the wall and led him to the door. She made sure he stuck close behind her then cracked the heavy steel open less than an inch. With a quick, stabbing motion she pointed straight ahead. Sadie lingered by the exit, chatting quietly with the bartender.

Chip tensed. His body coiled tightly, ready to spring forward. Kia pushed back, letting the door snick shut. Chip tried to sidestep around her, but she blocked his path, giving her head a violent shake.

Sadie didn't need to know anything just yet. If the woman wanted to play hard ball, Kia would give the evil wench one hell of a game. But she had to have Chip on board.

The big problem? How to pull everything together without uttering a word.

Chip solved the dilemma. He dragged his phone from his back pocket and handed it to her. A slow smile curved her lips and she typed her number into his contact list. She grabbed her cell and held it out. Chip keyed his information, saved it, and returned the device.

Kia quickly tapped out a message. [Operation Hush is now under way. Are you in?] She pressed send.

Chip scanned the note, nodded, and replied. [Tell me to fuck off, storm out of here, then meet me at The Cave. Basement. #2.]

Kia quirked a brow, but lifted her chin in agreement. Another message pinged directly after.

[Give me twenty minutes. Sadie has to think she's winning.]

Kia didn't like it, but couldn't argue the logic. She gave a thumbs up and turned towards the door. She stepped forward then angled back around, grabbing hold of Chip's shirt to haul him close before planting a hot kiss on his lips.

He deepened the embrace and grasped her hips, his hands sliding around to cup her ass. Her brain spun a little out of control and his mouth made her breathless, but no twitchy feeling. Easing back, Kia grinned when she caught the raw desire on Chip's face. She cupped his cheek then trailed her fingers suggestively along his jawline, hoping he'd get the hint of a promise for later she wanted to convey.

He shot her a wink and grabbed her fingers, giving them a squeeze.

Satisfied, Kia blew out a hard breath, then let the small ball of fury catch hold and radiate outward. The crackle of energy had Chip stepping backwards, but not too far.

Kia whirled around and yanked the door open. "Fuck off, Chip. Stay the hell away from me." She stalked across the bar floor and hit the exit, pretending not to notice Sadie's big, fat smirk. Once outside, she allowed the cool, crisp air calm the churning anger burning in her gut and leaned against the rough surface of the brick storefront. Letting her rage spark sometimes caused unforeseen consequences and she didn't want anything getting in the way of her later rendezvous with Chip.

Expelling a heavy, cleansing sigh, she muttered, "This damn plan better work."

Pushing away from the wall, she walked up the block, and made the turn towards The Cave.

So far, this has been tons of fun to write. It's a challenge, but an exciting one.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Hot Target

Hiya!

Imagine my embarrassment when I realized the Arrow midseason finale actually happened this past Wednesday instead of last week? LOL Oh well, one great thing came out of it…I got a new ep of Arrow and it was AWESOME!! And if the CW doesn't make Flash (or whatever they end up calling it) a series in the very near future, I'm gonna wonder where their brains are. LOL

Shifting gears (pun intended), Sons of Anarchy completely messed with my head. As mentioned, Kurt Sutter rarely goes where I think he will, and he had me going right until the last act of the episode. I pretty much stood up and yelled at the TV, then prayed for someone else's death… which didn't happen, dammit. But in retrospect, I'm actually sort of glad. I now know exactly how I want the final scene of SOA to play out… and if I don't get it, well, Sutter certainly won't give a hang, but I'll be sorely disappointed. I'm at a place with the show where retribution HAS to happen or I'll pretty much feel like it wasn't work seven years of my life. :D

Okay, enough about television this week, more to come about Sleepy Hollow and other shows soon. Tonight's post is from Hot Target, a novella with a wicked mesmer mage wreaking havoc on the hero and heroine.

Here's the tagline:

Yates and Baylor work undercover for the fae council. They make a great team, but rarely see eye to eye. When their magical brethren start dropping like flies, one of them must become a hot target. Yates decides he'll do it… Baylor's a better shot.

And a preview snippet…

"Look, Bay, I'm the logical choice." Yates rolled over and propped his head on his hand.

Baylor shook her head. "No deal, Yates. This mesmer mage has it out for me. I should be the target." She faced him, frustrated he wouldn't see her point. "Hell, I am the target. Why not make myself available and draw him out?"

Yates gave her a grim smile. "Because he doesn't want you yet." He draped his free arm over her waist. "Think about it. He killed two of your closest friends. If I put myself in his line of sight, he won't be able to resist coming after me."

Baylor closed her eyes and counted to five, resisting the urge to shout and yell. Yates very effectively countered her biggest argument. She could dance naked on Wiley's bed and he'd probably laugh instead of trying to kill her. But he had the arrogance to make an attempt to hurt her where she'd feel it the most. By taking out the one guy who actually got her.

"Because it'll hit me where I live if he gets to you." Her eyes narrowed. "But he won't succeed."

Yates leaned in, brushing his lips over hers. "No, he won't. We bait the trap and keep the op team small—maybe Snipe and Richcreek—then bag the bastard."

Baylor nudged Yates backwards then angled around, lifting her leg up and over his torso to straddle his hips. "And put an end to the carnage once and for all." She scooched down a little, wiggling her butt, a wide smile crossing her face when Yates responded by getting hard.

He grasped her thighs. "Bay, you might just be the death of me." His hands skimmed up her sides then over the cup her breasts.

She rose up and sank down over his length. "Maybe, but better me than Wiley Ledbetter."

Nothing like great sex before heading out to plan mayhem, right?

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Fistful of Sorry

December 8, 2013

Hello!

Okay, getting the TV stuff out of the way first, as always, but did you watch the Arrow mid-season finally? If you didn't, why not!! Seriously, the show keeps getting better and better, and it was already pretty damned great. :D

Sons of Anarchy finale this week and whoa. I seriously have no idea how anything will play out. Sutter never quite goes where I think he will and that's part of what I love about the show.

Walking Dead gave me a very satisfactory finale even if it killed off one of my favorite characters. Can't ask for more than that, right?

I'm hoping to start Almost Human in the near future and catch up so I can watch in real time. I've heard very good things about the show.

Tonight's post is from Fistful of Sorry, a novella with magic and mayhem and two characters whose bond is tested.

Here's the tagline:

Orly Manx and Cal Luminity always approach situations from opposite angles, but usually end up on the same side. When Orly pushes a cadet too far during training, she apologizes to Cal for not following his advice. But Cal isn't interested in listening or quick to forgive, which drives a wedge between them and Orly realizes how much she needs Cal to play yin to her yang.

And the preview snippet…

Orly picked up her pace and caught up with Cal. "What the hell is your problem?"

He whirled around and glared. Anger and emotion rolled off him in waves and Orly had a stark, terrifying moment of fear roil in her gut.

"Did Benson—" She couldn't finish the question, afraid the answer would make her heave.

Cal huffed out an irritated breath. "Oh, don't worry, he's still breathing." He waited a beat. "And should pull through without any permanent damage." He started forward again.

Orly grabbed his arm. "That's good news, but again, I gotta ask. What is your damn problem." She let go of him when he jerked away.

Cal eyes went wide and he made a strangled choking sound. "If I have to explain it, you're hopeless, Orly. Utterly, completely hopeless." He took a step then turned back. "You know what? It's not hopeless. You're reckless, rash, and irresponsible."

He moved towards her and she instinctively kept distance between them. Cal rarely lost his temper, but when he did, even she knew to give him space. When her shoulders hit the wall, she braced for impact, because Cal didn't look close to being finished.

He stood toe to toe with Orly. "I told you, no warned you, Benson needed a light touch and what did you do?" He leaned in, getting up close and personal. "You went after him, beating him back, breaking him down, and pushing him past his limits. Why?" He stopped, clenching his jaw.

Orly flinched, but didn't look away. "Because we're mage superiors. It's what we do." She kept her tone low and calm even though she wanted to yell and shout.

Cal snorted. "No it's not, Orly. It's what you do. And for what?" He stepped back, shaking his head. "Not a damn thing. You damned near cost a promising cadet his life today. The only thing you gained is a potential black mark on your record after his grandfather hears about Benson's suicide attempt." Cal grimaced. "Not that you have a shortage of those." He made a disgusted sound and walked away, his shoulders rigid with unreleased tension.

Orly blew out a short breath and dragged another one in. She didn't like the mirror Cal held up or what reflected back at her. She had taken a hard line with Benson, and maybe dealt with him a little more harshly than she should. A little? The guy tried to overdose, dumb ass. Blinking, Orly finally owned her part. She'd shoved her responsibility into a dark corner of her mind, but Cal had the uncanny ability to shine a big ass spot light into those deep, hidden crevices. She didn't like it, mainly because he usually called her mistakes for the fuck-ups they were.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

She didn't care about going on report. She'd deal with whatever backlash came her way. But she didn't want Cal to write her off. His actions and tone had a note of finality that gnawed away at her psyche. And why wouldn't he walk away? He had warned her. No, first, he'd asked her to consider trying a different tactic with Benson. Then he offered the know-it-all advice. Dammit. Chin deep in muck and her closest ally pretty much couldn't stand her at the moment.

Orly pushed away from the wall. She'd give Cal a little time to cool down and then see if they could hash things out. She'd rather not have his anger bleed over into their job.

Because the level of suckitude that equaled didn't bear thinking about.

Orly has some serious amends to make and Cal definitely won't make it easy. Where's the fun in that, right?

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Fancy Meeting You Here

December 1, 2013

Hi!

Not much new in TV this week, so finishing up from last week's new episodes. The Walking Dead is my on the fence show. Some weeks I love it, some weeks I'm very 'meh'. Last week was definitely a 'meh' week, but the new episode tonight is pretty good, but the Governor just doesn't excite me all that much.

Sleepy Hollow continues to make me happy. It's so crazy insane I can't not like it. This week's Arrow and Sons of Anarchy have me ready to get through Monday so I can watch new stuff. J I also quite enjoyed Agents of S.H.E.I.L.D. I'm not nearly as disappointed as a lot of fans are, but I'm a long time believer in setting up story arcs for bigger payoffs later.

That's it for this week. Should have some great reactions for my next post.

Tonight's snippet is from Fancy Meeting You Here. The world building is a lot of fun and this couple who is not a couple have a hard time fighting their attraction and they discover that maybe they shouldn't. Fun!!

Here's the tagline:

Jonni Mars and Val Janison are enforcers for two opposing mage families and have a friendly rivalry. When Val, a member of the ruling house, shows up at Jonni's favorite underground dive, she's both infuriated and intrigued, and more than a little surprised to meet him under almost normal circumstances.  

And a preview snippet…

Jonni turned when the door burst open and round of greetings went up throughout the bar.

"Val!!"

Val strode in and kicked the heavy oak shut, blocking the cold blast of wind trying to get in from outside. A shiver skittered down her spine, but not from the chill. Nope. She had no idea Val frequented her place. And from the looks of it, often enough to be known by name. He shook hands with Harv, who poured him a draft—on the house.

Tilting her head sideways, she observed the exchange of pleasantries while Val shrugged out of his long coat and tossed it on the banister leading upstairs. She hadn't been gone that long, had she? Thinking back, maybe she had. A series of false leads had her traipsing all over the damned city in search of Phelan's number two and several nasty run-ins with the Vellas Clan made a low profile absolutely necessary. She did the math—seven months since she'd last parked her ass in an Anvil booth.

Shit. More than enough time for Val to get a foothold in her chosen spot for R&R. A wave of jealousy smacked her in the face. She'd had to work a good two years before the staff, namely Harv, accepted her as one of the regulars. She picked up her shot and tossed it back, turning the glass upside down on the table, ready to take her leave.

Jonni reached for her leather trench, draped over a neighboring chair, but another glass appeared in front of her and she glanced up to meet the cool, blue gaze of Val.

He raised a brow. "Leaving so soon, Jonni?"

She dropped the jacket on the arm of the chair, deciding to play the scene cool. "Val." She settled back in the seat. "Fancy meeting you here. When did you start slumming it with the fringes?"

He dropped down across from her and kicked his feet out—blocking any chance she had to make a quick exit. Fine with her, she had a strong yen to see what the hell he had going on.

He produced a bottle of black label and filled his empty glass. "About ten seconds after we took Phelan out and you disappeared." He met her gaze. "Where've you been, Jonni?"

She hedged. "Around." She pushed back a little. "I'm not that hard to find."

He snorted. "You haven't been here. That means you've been working." He drained his glass and poured another. "Anything interesting?"

How the hell should she answer? Jonni bought time by drinking the alcohol he so kindly provided. She opted to go for turning the tables.

Grabbing the bottle, she refilled her glass. "Why would I share my comings and goings? You've invaded my space here. Everyone knows why I head for this crapshoot of a dive bar. I'm right at home here." She pinned him with her gaze. "The big question is… what's a member of the ruling house of Janis doing here? And don't even put it on trying to find me."

His lips twitched. "Touche. You're only part of the reason I started frequented the Anvil." He toyed with the shot glass, his eyes going hard and angry. "After the showdown with Phelan, I had a lot of aggression to work through." He looked away.

Jonni could just imagine the deep, dark place Val went to after doing battle with Phelan. Didn't explain why he chose this particular spot to work out his issues. Unless… no, she wouldn't, couldn't let her brain go there. The spark of whatever arced between them during the clusterfuck fiasco with Phelan had long since dissipated.

Val's voice sucked her back to the present. "Not for me, it hasn’t."

Jonni narrowed her eyes. "Get out of my head, asshole. I really don't like it when people invade my privacy."

Val leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table. "Duly noted. But here's the thing." He inched closer, keeping his voice low. "I'm not in your head, Jonni, you're in mine."

Her eyes widened and she gasped. No way. She threw up a mental block and quickly retreated. Her face flamed hot. Only novices did involuntary mind slips. Jonni had a decade of experience under her belt, had fought more than one powerful foe and never had she crossed the line into invasive territory on a subconscious level.

Until now.

She worried her lower lip, embarrassment and concern warring for dominance in her head. She had to flee, escape the suddenly claustrophobic confines of the bar, and get as far away from Val Janison as possible. She flicked her gaze in his direction and started to bolt, swinging her feet over his legs.

His hand shot out, grabbing hers. "Uh uh. Don't even think about leaving. Not yet." He kept hold of her fingers when she tried to jerk away from his grasp.

She slumped back, barely resisting the urge to kick him under the table. "Why the hell not? Do you want an apology?" She owed him one, even if it galled her. "Fine. I'm sorry. You can be certain I'll never let it happen again." Just as soon as she figured out why it happened in the first place.

His loosened his grip, but laced their fingers together. "Don't make promises you might not keep." He held up a finger when she opened her mouth to protest. "Let me finish before you blast me with attitude, dammit."

She snapped her mouth shut and clenched her teeth.

His thumb traced a circle on her skin and a slow, tingling sensation traveled up her arm. She'd give her last buck to know why she reacted to him the way she did.

Val frowned. "No one, and I mean not one single soul, has ever managed to get inside my head without me knowing it." He held her gaze several longs moments. "You've done it twice, and I don't like it any more than you do."

Twice. When the hell else had she—ah, right—

He nodded. "The night we took Phelan down." He heaved a sigh. "And make that three times."

She growled. "Dammit!" She jerked her hand away from his. "This does not happen to me. What's going on here?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. But we better figure it out."

She snorted. "You think? Any bright ideas for how?" She could walk in front of a bus. That should do the trick.

He narrowed his eyes and she wondered if she'd slipped into his head again. She breathed a sigh of relief when his tongue shot out to wet his lower lip and he shifted position in the booth. The uncomfortable gesture made her feel more at ease.

He met her gaze again. "You're not gonna like it, but here's my idea." He huffed out a breath. "You. Me. And a suite at the Warwick. Right now."

Jonni's mouth dropped open. "Are you bat shit?" She barked out a laugh. "I'm having a crisis of epic proportions and you want to what? Fuck it out of me?"

He rolled his eyes. "Did I say anything about sex? Not that I'd turn it down, but the idea is a safe place to work out what our weird connection is. The Warwick is warded against outside magic, remember?"

Her face flamed again. Of course she'd jumped to the wrong conclusion. The man made her completely stupid.

She jerked her head towards the exit. "Yes. Fine. Let's go. The last place I wanna be is inside your head."

Gotta say I had a lot of fun writing her mortification at slipping into Val's head. Is that mean of me? LOL

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Events in Motion

November 24, 2013

Greetings!

Another great TV week. The 50^th anniversary of Doctor Who truly made my entire week. Sooooo nice to watch a show I love on BBC America and not get stuck with ninety-seven episodes of some Gordon Ramsay show and/or Top Gear. Don't get me wrong, both shows are okay, I'm just really tired of how often they're on during the day. The BBC has a HUGE library and I used to love watching all the various offerings before the network got overrun with a chef and three car enthusiasts. *sigh*

Anyway, Arrow delivered and provided several off the charts levels of awesome. Seriously, I live for Wednesdays. Let's see, Sons of Anarchy brought some good stuff to the table. Sometimes I think if certain people would shut up and other certain folks would sit down and have an actual conversation, things might go a whole lot easier. I may have a nice, long post on my TV blog—which rarely gets used—once the season is over.

I could go on but since it seems like next week is hiatus for the Turkey Day holiday, I'll save some reactions for that post.

Tonight's snippet is from Events in Motion, a fantasy based erotic novella centered on fulfilling a destiny.

Here's the tagline:

Fate has a plan for Drury, one she's not all that certain she wants to follow. Porter doesn't believe in destiny, but when Drury sets a chain of events in motion, he has to change his perspective or risk losing her to chance.

And a preview snippet…

Porter let go of her hand and wandered to the far side of the temple. The offerings were plenty and the opulence of the sanctum took Drury's breath away. She strolled around the sacred area, her gaze scanning treasures and tithes. A grotto encasing a likeness of the goddess drew her attention and she crossed the center of the space, almost by compulsion. She slowed her gait, gripped by hesitation. The marble statue had detailed carvings, with intricately twisted latticework.

Compelled, Drury inched closer and closer to the idol. She felt the sound more than heard it—a faint, vague whisper. She closed her eyes, fighting a wave of fear. Hadn't she rid herself of the steady static in her head?

Her fingers brushed over the scrolled filigree on the temple goddess and the marble pillar hummed with vibration. Porter approached but said nothing. Drury placed her palm directly on the totem and the walls shook, knocking Drury off kilter.

Porter steadied her. "If it's important, you better grab it now." His gaze flicked around the room. "The place isn't stable. We'll have to come back later, Dru."

Drury lifted her hand and the trembling stilled. "It's me, Port." She slowly glanced sideways, meeting his gaze. "The place is reacting to me."

Porter's grip tightened. "Are you sure, Dru?" He kept his tone cautious.

She pressed her hand against the cool surface again and it warmed, the rumbling resumed and the floor cracked beneath their feet.

Jerking away, Dru collapsed, but Porter broke her fall, wrapping her in his embrace before sweeping an arm under her legs. He lifted her with ease and ducked falling objects, making a steady retreat towards the exit.

Images, clear and vivid, filled her mind, brief flashes of clarity that took her breath away. She gripped Porter's shoulder after he exited the temple, her fingers digging into his flesh. She wanted to find out more… had to.

He set her on her feet and cocked an eyebrow. "Are you okay?"

She nodded and gulped in several deep breaths. "I'm fine. And I know what I need to do."

Porter shook his head. "I'm not going to like it, am I?"

Her lips quirked. "Probably not. I have to go back in." She turned towards the entrance.

Porter reached out, halting her progress. "Uh uh. No way, Dru. That place is gonna collapse if you step foot back inside."

Her shoulders squared. "Maybe, but I'm doing it anyway." She shot a glance his way. "I have to find answers, Port. The temple is my best bet." She prayed he understood.

His lips thinned to a stern line. "You can't get anything if you're dead." He grabbed her arm, turning her towards him. "Wait one damned minute and think, Dru. Think about why the whole flaming building started falling apart." His tone softened. "If you figure that part out, you might be able to find what you need without burying us in the process."

Drury snorted. "Maybe I pissed the goddess off. Or my supposed cosmic connection to the universe is on the crapper." His final words hit her. "Wait, us?" She backed up a little. "No way, Port. I'm not asking you to go back in there with me."

He stepped forward, invading her personal space. "You don't have to. I'm volunteering." His hand cupped her face. "Dru, you're still shaking with reaction. You're terror can't be helping. If you're so in tune with the place, it probably feeds off your fear."

Son of bitch. Why hadn't she considered the possibility? Because her natural instinct to fight always kicked in at the worst possible moment.

Her shoulders slumped. "Dammit, you're right, Port." Her gaze met his. "I need to know everything, but I'm reluctant to accept my role, whatever the hell it is."

Porter wrapped his arms around her, hauling her close. "I know, Dru, and I'm not a great believer in mapped destinies, but if nothing else, I'm along for the ride." He eased away, his hands moving forward to tilt her chin upward. "I've got your back. You won't face anything alone." His head lowered and his mouth met hers.

She found solace in the kiss, and strength. Porter provided calm in the swirling storm she called her life. His quiet skepticism kept her tethered when she feared spinning out of control would become the norm.

Easing away, she broke the embrace, resting her forehead on his chin. Inhaling deeply, she pushed everything but Porter and the need for answers out of her mind then stepped back, holding her hand out.

Porter laced their fingers together and squeezed her palm.

He nodded towards the temple. "Let's go."

Ahhh. I love a good man who offers backup without getting too bossy about it. :D

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Capsized Buccaneer

Hello!

Gotta say, my television shows are eating my brain lately. I'm dying for Walking Dead tonight even though the Governor makes my skin crawl. I got caught up on Sleepy Hollow and totally love the dynamic of the entire show. Reminds me so much of the X-files. Agents of S.H.E.I.L.D. is coming together pretty nicely. I'm enjoying the character dynamics. Sons of Anarchy keeps me on the edge of my seat and I so want to hate Gemma, but can't quite go across the line into loathing territory. But I would love to see her get some kind of comeuppance. We'll see what happens.

Again, Arrow and Tomorrow People had me glued to my screen on Wednesday. Arrow truly gets better each episode. Tomorrow People keeps me guessing and I hope it stays that way. I'm really excited to see where Haven ends up going and how they'll resolve the current storyline. I can't remember if this is the last season or not, but I'm almost hoping it isn't.

And hey, I'm currently enjoying a Firefly marathon on the Science Channel. I have much love for that show.

So… tonight's post. Capsized Buccaneer is part urban fantasy, part castaway island. Zeb and Kallen have to survive being stranded after Zeb's yacht sinks in the ocean. He's got a connected family, she's a sports champion and their initial spark turns into a conflicted truce once they get off the island and discover someone wants Kallen dead.

Here's the tagline:

Kallen Bond, a star athlete certain to lead her team to a championship win, takes a much needed two day excursion aboard a Bertelli luxury yacht before the big game. The Bertelli's sabotage their ship to eliminate Kallen from the competition, but she's saved by Zeb, the family black sheep, and they end up stranded on a remote island with no way home.

And a preview snippet…

Zeb jerked to consciousness, putting his hands out to keep paddling water. His fingers met with sand instead. He no longer bobbed in the water, praying for death. Slowly, he attempted to sit, wincing at the sharp throb in his head. When the ship exploded, something caught the back of his skull. Lifting a hand, he found dried blood and a huge bump. Inhaling deeply, he fought the wave of pain and struggled to up onto his knees. He'd landed in a sandy pit a good distance from the shore.

How the hell had that happened? Movement from behind him drew his attention. The blond he'd grabbed when she floated past—Kelly, Kali, no, Kallen—plopped down beside him and gazed out towards the horizon.

He craned his neck, cautiously, and scanned the surrounding. Trees and craggy rocks met his gaze. Land. Civilization. They'd made it.

Heaving a sigh, he settled down, drawing his knees up to his chest. "We're safe."

Kallen snorted. "Yeah, not so much, handsome. While you were out cold, I wandered around. We're on an island as far as I can tell. I didn't go far, but it appears deserted." She slid him a sideways glance. "So unless you've got food and water stashed in those beat up cargo shorts, we're not safe." She scrambled up to her feet. "In fact, we're as good as dead if we don't find some kind of shelter." She lifted her chin, gazing upward. "Another storm front is moving in. And it looks damned ugly."

He followed her line of sight and sure enough, roiling, nasty looking black clouds moved at a solid clip, heading in their direction. He huffed out a hard breath and carefully got his feet under him.

He held out his hand. "Then let's go." He flashed a grin. "I've had enough of being wet today."

Kallen's lips quirked and she grasped his palm. "Yeah. I feel your pain." She took lead and directed Zeb towards a rocky outcropping. "I think we can stay protected from the wind and most of the rain over this way." She carefully picked her way along a barely noticeable trail.

But a path meant someone else had been on the island, right? Maybe? Or it could've been used by a big ass wild animal.

Zeb's head spun, his hangover kicking in with major force. Dehydration. He'd need water soon.

Kallen stumbled. "Son of a bitch." She hopped on one foot. "Stupid. Stupid. Wearing flip flops instead of shoes." A cut oozed blood along the side of her sole.

Zeb glanced downward, realizing he only had one of his topsiders on. How did he not notice that before? Dumbass, you woke up on some crazy island after your yacht went down. A little busy, yeah?

He ducked down, using his shoulder to support Kallen. "Let me help. You should avoid getting sand and dirt in that."

Kallen wrapped an arm around his waist. "Go straight, then bear right. You're looking for a big ass tree." She tightened her grip. "It gets pretty rough, the terrain, I mean."

Zeb shot her a look. "Think I can't handle it?"

She lifted a shoulder. "Well, you were pretty wasted last night. You've gotta be feeling like shit right now."

He fought an urge to heave and soldiered on. "You're not wrong. But I seriously don't wanna get caught when those clouds hit this place." He found the tree and veered inland. "But I warn you, when we hit those rocks, I might fall over and not get back up."

Kallen grimaced. "Look, it's Zeb, isn't it?"

He nodded.

She continued. "It's not much further and we won't have any place else to go once that storm get here. You, no we, can collapse and stay down as long as necessary."

Zeb got a better hold on Kallen. "Gee, Kallen, your motivational skills aren't quite what I expected."

She slid her gaze sideways. "You know my name?"

He snorted. "Everyone knows your name. You led your team to the world finals and a chance at the championship, hence the huge bash on my family's yacht."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, great party that turned out to be."

Zeb huffed out a harsh breath and winced when a strong stitch throbbed in his side. "God, don't make me laugh right now."

The craggy terrain evened out and Zeb broke through some underbrush into a small clearing. Kallen let go and hopped over to a large rock, dropping down to take a look at her injury.

Zeb circled around, trying to get his bearings. The sky darkened and he edged closer to the outcropping, looking for a good place to take shelter. Running his hand on the jagged surface, he walked about fifteen yards and noticed a large gap. He leaned in to get a closer look and discovered the opening seemed to go on for a good ways.

He shouted over the gusty wind. "Hey, Kallen, I think I found a cave. Maybe we could take cover in it."

She finished tying a strip of her shirt around her wound and hobbled over. Bending down, she peered inside.

She let out a laugh. "Damn, I think you're right. It'll be dark, but it should keep us out of the worst of the storm." Stooping down again, she crawled inside. "Shit, Zeb. Get in here."

Zeb followed and gasped in surprise. Light filtered in from the entrance, casting a shadowy glow on a large, circular ring with wood stacked inside. Several crates lined one side of the cave and two oil lanterns sat atop the biggest one. Zeb wandered over and found a box of matches and dug one out before lifting the shade to light the wick. He held the light up to get a better look at the interior of their shelter.

Kallen let out a low whistle. "Looks like we may not be alone here, after all."

This one has been really fun to write so far. It's still in the early stages but the outline stuff keeps pouring out. May end up being more than one book if the sages keep spewing stuff out. :D

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Great Review: A Magical Affair

I wanted to book my fantasy weekend shortly after the first scene!

 --jj, Rainbow Book Reviews

I'm thrilled by the wonderful review from Rainbow Book Reviews.

Please click the link to read the full review. Rainbow Book Reviews

Sunday Snippet: Calamity of Chaos

Howdy!

Well, my week in television ended up being pretty damned awesome. Seriously, the Walking Dead kind of caught me off guard, but gotta give it to Rick. When he steps up, he sorta goes full tilt and gets it done. Not sure how I feel about the parting of ways, but I'm leaning towards it being a good thing.

Thoroughly enjoyed Castle, which is a nice change since I've been kind of 'meh' about this season. I love getting to see Rick and Kate together—that kind of never happens and it pisses me off—but the storylines either underwhelmed or made me scratch my head. Sons of Anarchy continues to rip the scabs off old wounds. I love having my smart Jax back. He's always at his best when he's not reacting to and working through shit like watching his best friend die. Very interested to see what side Tara's actions have him landing on. My hope is he'll stay smart, get the Irish out of the way, deal with the DA, and then let the emotional fallout hit. And good Christ, stay away from Gemma so she can't throw gasoline on the fire. *shakes head*

Arrow and The Tomorrow People just make my Wednesday the best day of the week. I can't say enough about Arrow at the moment, and anything I would say would contain spoilers, so *zips lips*. Haven twisted everything sideways again, but hit on a theory I had from the first episode. I kind of can't wait to see how the new wrinkle plays into the mythology. I have more thinky thoughts, but again… spoilers. LOL

So, that's my week in TV. Maybe I should get to the actual post, right? Tonight's snippet is from Calamity of Chaos, a follow up to Consortium of Chaos. The story is set in the United States and has Esme and Ash on the trail of Baron Morbid's partner. So far, it's been loads of fun to write.

Here's the tagline:

Esme and Ashton embark on a trip to America, on the trail of their nemesis's partner. Calamity ensues when they stumble upon a dastardly plot to keep them from returning home.

And a preview snippet…

Esme turned the controls of the Lady Victorious over to Del. "Keep her steady and for pity's sake call me if you run into any sky traffic." She stepped away from the helm. "I do not want to get stranded in the states with no way home except by sea."

Del snorted. "Esme, you've taught me everything I know about captaining this big ship. Since when do you lack confidence in my ability?" He lifted a brow.

Smithers nosed into the conversation. "Since you are not her, sir." He sent a smirk in Esme's direction.

She sneered. "Stow it, Smithers. I'm perfectly confident Del can handle things." She started toward the aisle leading to the staterooms. "It's the crazy Americans I worry about." Her lips curved when Smithers went pale and pasty.

She enjoyed getting him all wound up. And Del would have to deal with the hovering valet, leaving her plenty of time to cajole Ash into bed for a nice, long romp.

Ash got too caught up in Mobride's business sometimes and Esme wanted to remind him to take a little time to wind down and rejuvenate. Too much time spent around Baron Morbid's affairs would eventually have a negative effect. Esme wanted to get the guy's partner as much, maybe more, than Ash, but she wouldn't lose the man she loved to the nefarious viciousness Mobride seemed able to generate even beyond the grave.

She paused outside the door of their cabin and loosened the buttons of her bodice then gave her camisole a yank for good measure. Twisting the knob of the door, she entered quarters and found Ash poring over several sets of ledgers. The man didn't even look up when she strode across the floor to stop in front of the desk. Esme frowned. Desperate times called for desperate actions. Tugging her shirttails free, she undid the rest of the buttons and shrugged the garment off to toss it on the surface in front on Ash. Startled, he glanced up, his eyes going wide then darkening with desire. Esme slowly made her way around the edge, stopping just shy of Ash's chair. The scrape of wood on the deck became a welcome sound when Ash angled the seat so she could drop down atop his lap. Esme wrapped an arm around his shoulders, putting her breasts on display when the camisole inched its way down. Ash's tongue flicked out, wetting his lower lip and her nipples puckered in response.

She met his gaze. "It's past time for a distraction, my love." She wriggled her butt around and grinned when she got the response she wanted.

The rapid hardening of Ash's cock.

He gave her a wolfish smile then grasped the hem of her camisole, lifting upward. "You know, Es, I think you're right." He tugged the garment over her head then leaned down to draw a pebbled tip between his lips.

Esme gasped, loving the way his teeth grazed over the sensitive peak.

And yes, I'm gonna leave the rest to your imagination. :D

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Broken Down and Maxed Out

Hi!

YAY! Strike Back got a renewal even though it'll be the last season. I can live with one more ten episode run with Stonebridge and Scott. I'm torn between wanting to see them go out with a bang—Butch and Sundance style—and hoping like hell my two heroes find a way to be happy and live long lives. :D

And Arrow… holy crap. I can't even form coherent thoughts about last week's episode yet. Without getting too spoileriffic, I'm usually not keen on recasting a primary character, even if they've had almost zero screen time, but I'm definitely reserving judgment on this one. Mainly because I can't wait to see where they take the character and how they tie her into the DC 'verse. *rubs hands together gleefully*

Haven keeps impressing me and doesn't always do what I expect. If I haven't mentioned it before, I LOVE shows that keep me guessing. J

Anyway, time for the actual post. Tonight's snippet is from Broken Down and Maxed Out. The manuscript is in the beginning stages, but the sages are throwing out some great stuff. J

Here's the tagline:

When Dallas Kirk and Rafe Quinoza, two top agents in the Ministry of Magic, are broken down and maxed out they turn to each other to regroup and recharge. But when they reach their saturation point at the same time, they struggle to keep their connection strong which is difficult when they blame themselves for a mission gone wrong.

And the preview snippet…

Dallas trudged up the steps to the apartment, weary, worn out, and dying for her bed. But not before she took the longest shower known to man or mage. Her hand drifted to her hair, fingers brushing lightly over the strands. Yep. Still had traces of sage ash and singed ends. She'd probably have to cut several inches off to undo the damage.

Sliding her key in the lock, she shoved the door open and dropped her bag on the floor. The loud clunk echoed in the empty space and the darkness swallowed her, dragging her mood down even further. She shrugged out of her trench coat, the tricks of her trade clanging together when she tossed the jacket over the back of the loveseat. Making a mental note to restock her metal cuffs—and make certain they had sufficient wards in place—she turned toward the bathroom and headed in that direction. She didn't bother flipping the lights on, she didn't need them to find her way.

Dallas turned on the shower, stripped, and finally turned some ambient illumination on by setting the dimmer switch to the lowest notch. She had no desire to see the welts and bruises on her body. And there'd be a shit ton after the beating she'd taken.

Stepping into the shower stall, she let the pounding spray work out the kinks and cramps. Pressing her face against the tiled wall, she blew out a harsh breath. Good cripes, she needed a respite—a nice long break from the batshit crazy ministry business and every damn thing going wrong.

Right. As if.

Lost in the miserable knowledge a vacation wouldn't be on the books any time soon, she jumped when the shower door flew open and braced for a fight. She relaxed when she caught sight of her would be assailant, Rafe.

His gaze swept over her, taking in every minute detail. "Fuck me, Dallas. What the flaming hell happened to you?" He yanked his shirt off and started on his jeans.

Dallas didn't answer, her throat still raw from the earlier fracas, and now choked with emotion. The sight of Rafe, her balm in the shit storm of life, soothed her soul more than any magically enhanced salve. Rafe kicked off his pants and glanced up, got a good look at her face, and ducked inside the steaming mist.

His hands cupped her head, carefully avoiding the abrasions along her jaw. "I'm here, Dal. You can let go now." He drew her forward, wrapping his arms around her. "Use me to get it out."

Her carefully constructed calm shattered and she threw her head back, the scream no less blood-curdling even with her damaged vocal chords. The dam burst and Rafe held her until she'd spent the last of her rage. She grabbed hold of his ass, her fingers digging into the flesh, dragging him closer, and angling her head to nip at his neck.

His breath hissed out when she made contact but his semi-hard erection swelled to its full length. He'd take the edge off her frayed psyche and recharge her to face another day.

She reached behind him and shut the water off. "Hard and fast, Rafe. Now." Her raspy voice made his eyes narrow.

But he heard the plea. His mouth crushed hers and she welcomed the sweep of his tongue against her lips. His hands skimmed her sides then he lifted her, pressing on her ass, urging her to wrap her legs around his torso. Nudging the door open, he exited the shower and carried her, dripping wet, across the floor and into their bedroom.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he raised her a little and entered her with a smooth thrust. Dallas moaned, breaking the kiss and bucked against his hips, building some friction.

She tumbled sideways, hauling Rafe atop her. "More, Rafe. I need more." She wrapped her legs around him, drawing him back inside.

He palmed her breasts, his eyes raking over her, taking in each and every injury. "I'll give you everything, Dal. Hang on." He drove into her, pumping his hips back and forth.

His mouth worked magic along her jawline, healing her abrasions. His hard cock pounded her, their magical connection building energy, arcing between them to patch up everything else. She took as much as she dared then gave herself over to the emotional bond, letting the disappointment and disillusionment ebb away. Rafe changed the pace, easing into a sensual rhythm. Dallas got lost in his golden gaze and sank into euphoria. The slid of his skin, the rapid beat of his heart, and the warmth of being joined swallowed her senses and spun her world sideways. She loved Rafe to distraction—right or wrong—and no one could take the feeling away.

Given the botched mission, the ministry could try to separate her and Rafe, but she'd fight tooth and nail if they made the attempt.

Rafe leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. "Stop thinking, Dal." He flicked his tongue over her lobe. "Just feel. Me. You. What we have. Feel." His mouth met hers in a hot kiss.

He flexed his hips, bumping hard against her clit and she broke, coming hard, the release washing over her until her toes tingled. Rafe followed quickly behind, thrusting deep and emptying himself. He collapsed sideways and hauled her close, tucking her head against his shoulder.

He brushed her hair back with his fingers. "Sleep, Dal." He pressed his lips to her forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."

She snuggled into his embrace and let her eyes drift closed. Rafe would keep watch and she could shut her brain down and finally rest.

Whew. Dallas has a lot on her mind, but some quality time with Rafe never hurts. :D

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye