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