Sunday Snippet: Hell is in the Details

June 30, 2013

Howdy!

And holy crap! It's the last day of June…meaning half the year is gone. How in the world did that happen? LOL Can't really complain…I've got green stuff growing in my garden and will hopefully have more planted soon. J

Tonight's post is from a short story that might end up going into novella length. Hell is in the Details features a main female character who can't quite find her way back to her clan after she has a terrible experience. She also has a real problem asking for help. J

Here's the tagline:

Macyn has a one night stand with an immortal creature and suffers the consequences when he traps her in a maze of deception. Once free, she withdraws from her clan and it's up to Vin to bring her back from the brink of madness.

And the preview snippet…

Vin tracked Macyn down the sidewalk and around the stone archway. The catacombs. Every damn night for the past week she'd slipped out of the estate house and stealthily made her way to the abbey—the only place she could gain unfettered access to the hidden series of crypts and tunnels under the sprawling campus. He should have known she'd go there—the forbidden never called louder to anyone but Macyn.

He sighed. "Dammit, Mace. This won't end well if the clan finds out." Shaking off a flash of anger, he waited to follow, giving her time to get inside and through the barrier leading to her destination.

He didn't have the right to shadow her, but couldn't stop himself. Their history meant something, at least to him. Macyn severed ties and walked away, from the whole clan, but Vin had to figure out what had her so tied up in knots.

Ignoring the inner warning his brain screamed, Vin entered the abbey and silently made his way to the barrier. Sure enough, signs of Macyn's crossing littered the area. Never patient, she sometimes got sloppy when the risk of discovery proved small. He took the path she had and after several twists and turns, came to an abrupt halt and all but collided with her when she stepped out from the shadows.

Arms crossed over her chest, she huffed out an angry breath. "What the hell are you doing, Vin?" Her lips twisted with a nasty smirk. "I'm not gonna be your new pet project, so go back the way you came and leave me alone." Flinging her arms out, she spun around. "I've got peace and quiet here. No one, except you, to bother me. No one telling me how to act, think, or feel—"

Vin broke into her tirade. "No one to remind you the catacombs are forbidden."

She snorted. "That alone makes it worth being here." She stalked to an ancient looking chair and plopped down.

Vin had a moment of fear the wooden frame wouldn't hold her weight. "They're off limits for a reason, Mace." He walked forward, stopping in front of her. "The stuff down here? Beyond old. And damned dangerous." His head jerked toward an old wardrobe. "That thing? Hidden guillotine activated if the door is opened with the wrong latch."

Macyn whistled under her breath then shrugged. "Doesn't change anything. You don't have the right to stalk me!" Her voice rose with each word, ending on a shrill crescendo.

Vin nodded. "Yeah, okay. I would apologize—except I'm not sorry!" His finished on a shout. "Something is off with you"—he paced back and forth—"and you won't talk to anyone." Including him.

Macyn made a garbled choking sound. "I tried! And it blew up in my face, as usual." She rose and strode across the chamber, reaching behind the weaponized cupboard to pull out a hidden rucksack.

Vin snarled. "Maybe if you didn't go out of your way to burn every damned bridge you cross, it wouldn't be a common occurrence."

Her lips twisted in a rueful smile. "Yeah, that's right, isn't it, Vin. The hell is in the details." She shook her head. "No one knows. No one. What happened to me." She reached inside the bag and pulled a bottle of absinthe out.

Vin tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. "You're not exactly forthcoming with the details, Macyn."

She shot him a sideways glance before opening the bottle. "Because I don't want therapy! If one more elder suggests I 'see' someone about my problem, I'll do bodily harm." Taking a long swig, she made her way back to his side. "I want answers. And no one is willing to do jack about finding them." She held the bottle out, offering him a drink.

Vin sighed, but took the proffered alcohol. After taking a deep gulp, he recapped the bottle.

Setting it off to the side, he responded. "But someone, namely me, is trying to figure it out, Mace."

She rolled her eyes. "Right. By skulking around monitoring my movements. Talk about flying without a net, right?" Spinning around, she paced again. "Does the wife know where you spend your nights?"

He didn't have a wife. And no longer had a girlfriend. But Vin wouldn't volunteer that information. Macyn wouldn't be ready to hear it.

"Changing the subject won't get me out of here any sooner." He grabbed her arm when she went to reach for the absinthe. "And guzzling a gallon of that stuff won't help either."

Macyn threw her hands in the air. "Gah! I hate you. I hate everything." She stomped away, all but climbing the walls in her anger. "Six times. Six times I killed that fucking monster." Warming up, she spewed words out. "And every damn time he came back. Whole, healthy, and utterly content." She shuddered, her eyes going dark with the memory. "A god damned, immortal whatever the fuck he is." Her feet moved again, back and forth. "And each time, each and every time, I lost a piece of myself." She stopped and met his gaze. "Well, I'm done giving. It's time for me to take, use, and just do. Whatever the hell I want." She planted her hands on her hips and all but dared Vin to stop her.

Finally getting somewhere, he gave it his best shot. "Don't forget abuse, Mace. You and everyone around you." He crossed the space between them, stopping just shy of being toe to toe. "And I get it. The universe fucked you over, so watch out, Mace is on the warpath." He softened his tone. "But it's gotta stop."

Her head shook back and forth. "Oh, no. It doesn't. And you, nor anyone else, can order me around. I'm not done yet."

Vin pushed back. "And when will you be? When I'm standing over your grave? Because at the rate your burning through everything, I give you a month. Tops."

Macyn opened her mouth, and then shut it again. He'd struck pay dirt with that reference. And he'd accomplished his main goal of getting her to blow through the anger, hate, and thirst for vengeance. Well, maybe not the thirst for revenge, but at least the part where it consumed her night and day.

Her voice solemn, she said,"Thank you." Macyn slumped, the bile and venom gone.

Vin gave her a curt nod. "Any time." He launched the next phase of getting her back on track. "Now what do you want to do? I mean what's the goal for being down here."

~:~

Macyn considered giving him a false reason. But he'd know. He always did. The guy read her like a book.

She answered truthfully. "Research. I want the damned bastard dead. Permanently." Her gaze lifted and met his.

She waited, expecting Vin to volunteer. He didn't. She inclined her head, respecting his reason for not doing so. He wanted her to make the choice and commitment to ask for help.

She kept her line of sight steady. "Please tell me there's a way." There had to be…

Vin bobbed his head. "There's a way."

Son of a bitch. Her relief hit so hard she almost crumpled, but he stepped forward and angled her toward a chair.

Sinking down, she fought past the lump in her throat. "Show me how. Teach me, please." The word sounded so foreign coming from her, but not as hard to say as she'd imagined.

Macyn's journey is interesting for me to follow. She's not what I started writing and her evolution kind of amazes me. J

That's it for this week!

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Gotta Make a Living

Hello!

It's been a rather trying week on the personal front. It's funny how that happens. Little annoyances pop up when least expected and sometimes snowball into raging nightmares. LOL

Seriously, not quite that bad, and thankfully nothing with immediate family. J

Tonight's post is from what I'm calling Urban Noir. It's sort of contemporary, but has a noir feel. At least I hope it does. Gotta Make a Living features Neal and Claire trying to solve a murder while playing a cat and mouse game of their own. Fun stuff.

Here's the tagline:

Niles finds Claire standing over a dead body and can't decide if he should call the cops or haul her into his arms. Claire makes the choice easy by asking him if he sees any smoking guns. They decide they better work together to find the killer before they frame Claire for a murder she didn't commit.

And the preview snippet…

Niles shoved the woman, face first, against the wall, and jammed his thigh between her legs, effectively cutting off any chance of escape. "Give me a reason not to call the cops and turn you in murdering Conrad Pesterman."

A low throaty chuckle escaped before she answered. "Do you see any smoking guns lying around, detective? Because I sure don't." She glanced at the body on the floor. "And he was definitely shot. Twice."

Her cool demeanor threw him. She had trouble written all over her, but she hadn't offed the chairman of C&P BioTech. His gut never steered him wrong.

Easing his hold, he stepped back and she turned, her cobalt blue eyes raking over him with frank assessment. She'd take a man's measure and cut him off at the knees.

If he let her. Niles didn't plan to give her the opportunity.

He leaned in, nuzzling her lips with his. "Like what you see, Miss…" He struck first.

Her mouth curved upward, sexy and sultry. "Claire Thorpe. No Miss, Mrs, or Ms. Just Claire." She flicked her gaze toward Conrad. "Doesn't matter if you're easy on the eyes. I've got too much respect for the dead to dance this close to them." Her hand shot out and pushed him back.

Niles lifted a brow. "Respect for a mark? There's a twist I didn't see coming."

Claire sighed. "He's not a mark, you ass hat. I did a little work for the guy." Meeting his gaze, she continued. "Hush hush stuff. Hence the late meeting way after hours."

Niles snorted. "Yeah, the kind of job where you dress up and bump into some poor schmuck at the cocktail lounge and get him to tell you all about his new product or revolutionary production method, right?" Industrial espionage had become rampant in the city.

His disappointment she engaged in the clandestine activity got shoved aside. He needed answers. Conrad had known someone wanted him dead. And he hired Neal to find his killer…but he'd been too late.

Claire shrugged. "Gal's gotta make a living and it the pay's very good."

He huffed out a breath. "I'll just bet it is."

Taking in the tailored cut of her clothes, the silk stockings—probably held up by a lace or satin garter—the trendy, short and cropped hairstyle, and the scent of expensive perfume, he had no doubt her compensation for services rendered probably matched his.

Hell, she might even earn more than he did.

Claire arched an eyebrow. "Do you always judge a book by its cover?" Her eyes rolled. "How sadly disappointing."

Niles frowned. "I make assessments, not jump to conclusions." He glanced toward the phone on the desk. "If I did, you'd already be on your way to the nearest precinct."

Claire nodded. "Don't you mean I'd be on my way to the one-twelve? Because you're Niles Chesterfield, and the lieutenant happens to be your brother, Nelms."

Niles blinked. She had him pegged. Made him wonder where she got her information. And why she knew so much about him.

Niles shrugged, but didn't deny her words. "Saves time. They know me over there and trust I won't get them involved in anything less than legit."

Claire tsked. "So I'm legit now? You get I didn't kill Conrad?" She ducked around Niles and strode toward the body.

Oddly, Niles did get it, but he also realized Claire would be in danger. Someone had lured her here for the meeting and Conrad couldn't have made that call.

Claire turned—the same understanding clear in her gaze. "Well, damn. There's not a very long list of people who knew about my arrangement with C&P." She stepped over the prone form and sank down onto the chair behind the desk, careful not to disturb anything lying on top. "But one of them wants to see me go down for this and I'm not gonna go easily." Raising her gaze, she met and held his. "You wanna help? Maybe work together to find the real killer?"

Niles studied her for a moment. He liked to work alone, but Claire would need protection. He didn't doubt she could handle pretty much anything, but every once in a while brute force accomplished more than subtle subterfuge. He'd become pretty versed in kicking down doors and throwing punches.

He slowly inclined his head. "We'd probably get more done that way." He moved forward, sticking hand out. "For the duration of the investigation, consider me your partner."

Claire smiled and shook on it. She went to pull away but Niles held tight. Her eyes narrowed.

He leaned in close. "Let's get a few things straight, first. Okay?"

Niles thinks he has the upper hand, but Claire won't take long to prove otherwise. Seriously? This couple if fun to write. J

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Feeding the Fury

Hello!

Happy Father's Day to all the great and wonderful dads out there. Including my own. J

It's fun to reflect on my relationship with my dad. We didn't always see eye to eye and had a few rocky years to get through—I even moved in with my Gram (his mom) at one point. I think it's why I love to write about troubled waters between dads and sons and/or daughters. In my case, I got lucky and my dad and I grew as individuals and found our common ground. My husband and his father never quite got to a place where they could embrace their differences and discuss them without rancor.

Tonight's post is from Feeding the Fury, a novella length story which doesn't really have a parental relationship, but it does feature a power hungry leader who controls her subjects with an iron will.

Here's the tagline:

Larue and Wade displease the Fury and she orders them to battle each other in the pyre. But the two top mages decide they won't kill each other for her pleasure, instead they'll invoke the Rite of Phoenix and if they survive, the Fury will have to abdicate her throne.

And here's the preview snippet…

"You know what she's doing, right?" Larue wrapped her wrists with flex tape.

Wade lifted a brow. "Sure, she's showing us what the Fury can do…whatever the hell she wants."

Larue scoffed. "Wade, Wade, Wade. It goes so much deeper than that. The bitch is running scared."

He snorted. "Of us? For bleeding sake, why?" He snagged the tape and started wrapping his ankles.

Larue sighed. "Because you rejected her and once word gets around she'll lose some cred." She shrugged. "When the hottest guy in the mage's court won't screw the Fury, something's gotta be wrong with her."

Wade's eyes widened. "Hottest guy? Looks have nothing to do with why she wants me."

Larue laughed. "Geez, Wade. You're so wrong. But fine, be modest." She reached inside her bag and drew out her robes. "Let's just chalk it up to you being the number one male in the mage pool. No one wields the power like you do."

Wade wound the flex tape around his left wrist. "Except you. And you're popular with the younger adepts. Pitting us against each other kills her problem in one big bang."

Larue nodded. "And now we're on the same page." She paused before donning her robes. "So…since I have no desire to play by her rules, how about we come up with a plan with a less deadly outcome?"

Wade's lips curved upward, but his eyes held no mirth. "I think I have the perfect solution."

His head bent forward and Larue leaned in to listen to the master mage's outlandish proposition.

Wade's plan is so much fun to write about and Larue loves his devious brain. J

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Maybe This Seems Familiar

Hi!

Had a very busy weekend with writing and editing, and also the day job. J I really need to get out and weed the garden, too, but yeesh, the time gets away from me.

Tonight's post is from Maybe This Seems Familiar, a novella with magic, mayhem, and a journey to find what's right in front of the main characters. J

Here's the tagline:

A tragic death sends Inyx Pic, an Adept Major, into a brittle shell of self-doubt. When Philo Batson, her Adept Master, pushes Inyx to get back to teaching, her armor of disillusionment cracks and anger and grief come pouring out, leaving Philo to handle the fallout.

And the preview snippet…

Philo growled. "Mage's teeth, Inyx. We've been here how many times?" He moved forward, invading her personal space. "Do we have to keep going over the same material?"

Inyx narrowed her eyes. "Well, then, maybe this will seem familiar. Step. Back." She jammed a finger in Philo's shoulder for emphasis.

Philo smirked. "I don't think so, Inyx. You don't get to make the call this time."

She lifted a brow. "Really? I already killed a promising student without even trying. Imagine what I could inflict if I set my mind to it."

Philo finally got it. "You failed an entire class of plebes because of one out of control malcontent? Inyx, you offer guidance. Not everyone is going to listen."

Her mouth thinned. "You think that's all there is? Because Marlax and I had issues from the beginning. I should've asked to have her transferred."

Philo cut in. "But you didn't. And her death, while tragic, is not your fault. Oh, but you'll take full responsibility and wallow in it because it suits your agenda."

Inyx hissed out a breath. "I don't have an agenda, Philo, except making sure no one in the new class gets harmed."

Philo gave a terse nod. "Right, by failing them. And you're motive behind the failure isn't to keep them all safe."

Inyx flicked her tongue over her bottom lip. "Is that right? What then, is my main objective?"

Philo spelled it out. "Isolation. You shove everyone away so you can't feel the pain. But you need it, Inyx. No one heals without a little discomfort."

She looked away and her shoulders slumped. The reaction caught him by surprise. He figured they'd go at least two more rounds before he could break through the wall of anger and grief she tried so desperately to hide behind.

She leaned forward, resting her head on his shoulder. "I hate you, Philo."

He wrapped her in an embrace. "I know you do, Inyx. But I'll deal."

A sob escaped from her, and he slid a hand up, cupping the nape of her neck, letting her expel the pent up emotion. Finally, she could let it out and start dealing with the loss.

And maybe they could get back on track.

Philo definitely has his work cut out. Inyx won't deal with everything overnight, but she won't have to do it alone. J

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Lie to Me

Greetings!

Okay, if you're not watching Orphan Black, you should be. I just watched the absolute best season finale I've seen from a show in a very long, long time. Seriously, the entire season never missed a beat and the mind-bending craziness just kept me glued to the television. Spring of 2014 is way too far away. J

Tonight's post is from the novella, Lie to Me. Jana and Rhys have a strong desire to be together, but circumstances beyond their control make it pretty much impossible. Jana isn't thrilled with the reasons, but she gets it.

Here's the tagline:

Jana Ricks has a target on her back and she wants Rhys McPherson to help her get rid of it. Rhys loves Jana, but can't protect her, not if they want to stay alive, which he's determined to make happen…even if it means giving up the future he wants.

And the preview snippet…

Rhys sighed. "I'm sorry, Jana."

She growled. "Look, Rhys, I'm not looking for an apology. I want a reason."

He shook his head. "I can't give you one."

She pinned him with her gaze. "Can't or won't?"

His silence answered the question.

She snorted. "Right. Figured as much."

Jana brushed past him ready to exit, but Rhys's hand shot out and grasped her arm.

He met her gaze. "Can't. Because there're too many reasons to list. And you know every single one of them."

Her shoulders slumped. "Shit." She did, and probably had a few more she could add to the list. "This sucks."

Rhys slid his hand down to twine his fingers with hers. "Yeah, it does. But until we find a way to rid ourselves of the danger, this is what we have."

She leaned forward, resting her head on his shoulder, craving the solid strength only he offered. "Can't you just lie to me and say it's all going to be okay?"

Rhys wrapped his free arm around her. "I could, but you'd know the truth. It's there in front of us. Every day." His voice gruff, he held her close for a moment then slowly eased away.

Jana nodded. "I know. But lie to me anyway."

Rhys lips quirked. "It's all gonna be okay." He sobered. "Eventually."

Jana grumbled. "Eventually is too damned far away." Lifting her chin, she caught his mouth in a quick, hard kiss. "And I'm not a patient person." Spinning around, she left before either could give in to the temptation of pushing their luck.

The malevolent evil on her ass won the day, but she and Rhys would win out in the end. They just had to find the key to taking the guy out.

I have a feeling this may turn into a series, but the sages are being tight-lipped at the moment. LOL

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye