Sunday Snippet: Mocking with a Side of Sarcasm

Whew. How great did Arrow's episode seventeen turn out? Birds of Prey surpassed my expectations and blew my mind. Always love it when shows do that to me. J

Walking Dead also delivered a solid episode. I'm so ready for the finale tonight and crossing my fingers the group will all be together by the end of the episode… even though Terminus can't be a the refuge it's touted as being. Too easy, right? LOL

Bitten has one more episode and I'm dying to know if the show will be renewed. Still reading the books and there's a lot the producers can mine from the various storylines. I'll cross my fingers and hope for a green light on season two in the near future.

Tonight's post is from Mocking with a Side of Sarcasm, a novella where my heroine's world sort of falls apart.

Here's the tagline:

Bentley Briggs is snarky on a good day, but when she becomes mocking and throws out a side of sarcasm, Vasek Barrett wants to know why. He discovers a secret Bentley doesn't want him to know and she'll elevate her vitriol to an art form, but it won't keep Vasek from lending a hand.

And a preview snippet…

Vasek entered the Lamplighter, intent on finding a shot—no, several shots—of quality vodka to soothe away the stench of the day. He started toward the bar, but a ruckus near the pool tables caught his attention.

"You'd damned well better get your ass back to the Manor, Bentley."

At the mention of her name, Vasek's feet changed direction and he paused, propping a shoulder against the wooden jamb separating the area from the main bar. Teague stood across from her, the felted green top of the table acting as a buffer.

Not much of one. Vasek didn't need to see Bentley's face to know she'd leveled a death glare on Teague. The woman did not like to be ordered about. When she casually twirled the pool cue in her hand, Vasek braced for a brawl, but Bentley surprised him.

She planted the stick on the floor by her foot. "My ass doesn't feel like going back to the Manor, Teague. I think I'll stay." She grasped the cue firmly, angling it back and forth, drawing it close then pushing it away.

Teague crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Do you really wanna play the mocking game right now?"

Bentley shrugged. "I really want to play pool, Teague, and you're harshing my concentration." She tucked the cue under her shoulder. "There's nothing you need me for at the Manor tonight, so back off and leave me alone."

Teague's face went red. "You're pushing things a little too far, Bentley. You're pushing me a little too far."

Vasek had no idea what the hell he'd walked in on between the Master of Arms and his protégé, but something had to have gone down. Vasek focused on Bentley. Her rigid posture screamed tension and her coiled movements threatened to come unstrung at the slightest provocation. Vasek wondered which of the two would back down first.

Teague dropped his arms, his fingers flexing several times. "Bentley, you've got one hour to cool your temper and lose the attitude. If you're not in my office in sixty minutes, I'll send the hounds." Teague shot a look in Vasek's direction.

Vasek wisely kept his mouth shut, but he controlled the group of trackers they referred to as the hounds. Teague couldn't order them to do shit.

Bentley smirked, then lifted two finger to her forehead, giving Teague a mocking salute. "Yes, Sir." She spoke the words with a sneer.

Vasek widened his eyes. The undertone of anger and biting sarcasm piqued his curiosity. What had he missed?

Teague heaved a sigh and made his way around the pool table.

He paused at Bentley's side. "Don't be late, Bentley. I mean it."

She rolled her eyes and he shook his head, muttering under his breath when he stalked away.

Vasek waved a server over and ordered four shots of his favorite vodka.

Bentley lined up a shot on the table. "Are two of those for me?" She angled her head around to meet his gaze. "Because I could really use a double right now."

This is one of those 'start in the middle' WIPs. I had this scene in my head and it would not go away until I typed it out. LOL Took me a while, but I finally think I've got the beginning and the end to wrap around the middle. :D

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Mirror of the Mist

My week in TV started with an intense episode of Walking Dead and kept amping up from there with Arrow and Bitten. I kind of wish I had a Chris Hardwick type to decompress with after watching the latter two also. LOL Seriously, the season finales may break my brain. And the glimpses we're getting of Orphan Black have me impatiently waiting for April 19.

Tonight's post is from, Mirror of the Mist, my urban fantasy spin on Snow White.

Here's the tagline:

An urban riff on Snow White, Cecelia Dumond, a black arts priestess, tasks Dys Hunter to assassinate her counterpart, a mystic oracle named Lyric Song. Dys goes undercover in a fight club to gain access to the powerful beauty. Little does he know, she's the one to lead him home, back to his rightful place as heir to his father's empire.

And a preview snippet…

Lyric focused on the leaves from Syd's drained teacup. A small grin twisted her lips. The man hated drinking the strong brew and always gulped the hot liquid in several swallows, thinking it helped speed the process along.

Someday she'd tell him otherwise. The divination came at its own pace, unfolding in her mind with fuzzy imprecision until the subtle nuances sharpened and formed a crisper, clearer image. Sometimes the pictures solidified in seconds, but usually several minutes passed before she could make an interpretation.

Syd lost quickly lost patience. "Well, come on, what's in the leaves?" He paced back and forth, the clomp of his boots a distraction.

Lyric shot him a quelling glance. "Syd, you know how this works." She turned her attention back to the leaves and concentrated.

The picture slowly formed, blurry at first, then crackling with a burst of clear, bright vividness. Lyric let her eyelids slide shut and followed the path of three men, walking shoulder to shoulder along the lengthy corridor leading to her inner sanctum, also known as her office. Two fighters on her roster flanked the third… she waited for a better glimpse, patiently waiting for a shift in the dynamic of the image. Using a subtle nudge, she homed in on the unknown in the group, finally catching a good look at his chiseled features. A face she recognized and knew well, but decades younger and carrying the features of her mentor.

Lyric gasped and blinked, her gaze flying to Syd. "You have to leave. Now." She held up a hand when he opened his mouth. "I'll explain. But later." She rose and hurried around the desk, jerking her head toward the rear exit when a loud pounding sounded on the main door. "Go, Syd. You can't be here for this." She took a position behind the tea service, pouring a cup.

He narrowed his eyes, but followed her order and quietly left via her private entrance.

Excitement mixed with trepidation. A second series of knocks kicked her heartbeat up another notch. A moment she'd long awaited for, an event she'd foreseen directly after saving Syd's life would come to fruition. She raised the porcelain container to her lips, inhaling the heady scent of the brew.

The aroma calmed her racing heart and Lyric called out. "Enter!"

The door burst open and Lyric steeled herself to meet the man who would cross the threshold.

Syd's son.

A prompt from one of my writing communities wanted a retelling of Snow White and this is the very first scene that popped into my head once I had the idea concept down. I'm going to have so much fun playing with these characters. :D

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Mendacium

Hello!

Okay, no Arrow episode this week and I missed my favorite show. L But, we did have new Walking Dead and Bitten, which made me super happy. I love reading the speculation about Daryl and whether he'll fall in with those rogue survivors or play nice until he can track down Beth. I'm rather hoping for the latter. It would make a nice bookend to the episode where he more or less sent his past life up in flames.

Bitten's episode for this week has me full of anticipation. I cannot wait to see Elena's worlds collide. J Orphan Black is gearing up for next month and I'm following their instagram page with an obsession. My twitter feed is rife with speculation… to the point I'm pondering a blog post with my wish list for the season. I'll just add that to my ever growing pile of stuff that needs attention. J

Tonight's post is from Mendacium, an urban fantasy that puts my main characters at cross-purposes even though they kind of work for the same side.

Here's the tagline:

Kelby Svet and Reave Systevich work for Mendacium, a covert organization that monitors magical ability among the human population. When powers go out of control or get abused, Kelby and Reave deal with the fallout—until a betrayal puts them on different sides.

And a preview snippet…

Kelby slid a thigh between Reave's legs and burrowed closer to his side, placing her hand on his chest. She rather liked basking in the afterglow of sex. Something of a rarity for her—she usually squashed any kind of hope for more. But Reave lived the life. He got the notion they could have a moment, take a while and breathe, then go back to their job at hand.

Reave wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hauled her closer. "Kel, let's wrap this case and cut out. Find somewhere quiet away from the politics and constant policing and enjoy life."

Okay, so much for Reave getting a concept. If he'd slapped her, she'd be less stunned.

Kelby took a moment before trying to answer. She wanted to see if she could get her head around the thought of leaving Mendacium. Reave made walking away sound simple, but reality wouldn't come close. They'd have to fight their way off the grid.

Might be worth the hassle to wake up with him every day.

She curled her hand into a fist and propped her chin on it. "Are you serious?"

He met her gaze. "Yeah. We've got ten years in, Kel. Haven't we done enough to help the cause?" He sighed. "I know it's not gonna be easy, but seriously, there's gotta be some kind of life out there, right? Haven't we earned the chance to find out?"

She pondered his words. "Maybe. But we've also pissed off a lot of outsiders. Do you really want to constantly look over your shoulder? Because that's what we'd have to do without the mantle of protection Mendacium offers."

He frowned. "You have a point." He angled over onto his side, letting her head rest on his bicep. "It's just a thought. At least consider it, yeah?" He leaned in for a quick, hard kiss.

Kelby nodded. "Yeah, okay. I'll think about it."

He reached across the bed and switched the lamp off, then settled down, draping an arm over her waist. Kelby let her eyes drift shut, but her brain swirled, too much information battling for prominence. One phrase kept nudging to the forefront…

She still had red on her books and a toll to pay.

Walking away sounded tempting, but she didn't have the option.

Yet.

And she won't for a while, even though she really wants to take Reave up on his offer. The big question is… how Reave responds when he wakes up alone. :D

That's it for the week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Melee

March 9, 2014

Whew. Crazy weather week of back and forth between frigid temps and snow and a lovely little warm-up that didn't last very long. LOL At least I had good television to watch.

As predicted, Arrow's episode fifteen, The Promise, proved to be seriously bad ass. I almost think they crammed too much into the hour—I would have loved to see a little more detail. I'm just not quite down with Slade being so uber-pissed at Oliver over Shado's death. Yes, I'm aware the Mirakuru IS the reason he's not particularly rational. But Ivo's manipulation seemed a little conveniently heavy-handed. Of course, Oliver's guilt doesn't help so there's that. LOL I'm also really interested to see if the rumor mill speculation about who Felicity's father is proves correct.

Bitten is still eating my brain. Seriously, the final episodes of the season should be mega-uncomfortable for the characters. And if Daniel Santos doesn't die a horrible death like he did in the books, I'm gonna lose my mind. J

Only one episode of Banshee left and I'm actively praying Rabbit gets his due. Then I'll probably have to wait for next season to see what the fallout will be from Proctor, but I can deal. Something to look forward to. J

Tonight's post is from Melee, a novella where my characters end up with super powers and have to escape from captivity. Fun times. J

Here's the tagline:

Josie Walls and Parson Parrington gain extraordinary skills when they're captured and experimented on in a remote laboratory in an icy tundra. Longing to be free, they put their newfound abilities to the test, escaping their prison and going on the run.

And a preview snippet…

Josie eyed the guards and glanced toward Parson. "Forget this." She went for broke, taking on the biggest dude in the group.

Parson could kiss her. By providing a major distraction, he could focus his attention and draw the energy he'd need to take out the whole group with one blow. If he failed, they could fall back on Josie's pyro-kinesis ability and burn their way out. Together, they'd clean house and finally get out of the stainless steel nightmare they'd lived in for six months.

He shut out everything, letting his mind go blank then homed in on the electricity humming in the background, finding a spark and backtracking to the main generator on the facility. Inhaling slowly, he absorbed the power from the huge unit, making the lights flicker overhead. He cut the flow, containing the vast surge, gaining control over it so he could direct the output. Seeking sight of Josie, he found her climbing up and over one of the guards, out cold on the floor.

Fighting the urge to unleash the wave, he shouted. "Now, Josie. Find a ground."

Her head shot up and she glanced around. Finding a safe zone, she dropped and rolled onto one of the rubber mats they used for sparring. She crouched low, tucking her head under her arms.

Parson let go, blasting the kinetic energy outward in a wide arc. The half dozen guards left standing flew back away from Parson, slamming into the closest surface behind them. Parson didn't wait to see if anyone remained standing, he staggered in Josie's direction and grabbed her hand, dragging her up and toward the exit. They had to clear the training room before he keeled over from expending too much of himself along with the burst of power.

Josie jerked him close, wrapping one arm around his waist to keep him on his feet. She made a fist with her other hand, ready to form a fire ball if necessary. Parson held on, his legs already moving slower, lethargy setting in.

He glanced back over his shoulder. "Two following, we gotta keep moving, Jose."

She grunted an acknowledgment and managed to keep him upright until they reached the door. Her hand shot out to push the handle and met resistance. They were locked in.

Josie growled. "Shit." She shot him a sideways glance. "Do you have enough left in you to bust through? I can weld it shut when we're clear."

Parson had no clue if he had the reserve to get through the lock, but he nodded. "Let me try." She propped him against the jamb and turned to let two fire balls loose, directing them at the pursuing guards.

Parson focused his attention again, drawing on Josie's rage, letting it fill him with a burst of adrenaline. He drew his arm back then shoved it forward, busting the door open. Josie caught him before he hit the ground, dragged him through the opening, and kicked the heavy steel shut.

Parson collapsed as soon as she let go.

She nudged him with her booted foot. "Get and stay clear." He crawled to the opposite side of the corridor, giving her room to work.

Pressing her hands on the metal door and jamb, Josie closed her eyes and exhaled. She melted and fused the steel into a solid mass. Satisfied, she stepped back, swaying slightly before she righted herself by laying a hand on the concrete wall. A burn mark marred the paint, exposing the poured surface underneath. Josie pushed away from the wall and staggered over to Parson's location, dropping down beside him on the floor.

He let out a harsh breath. "You okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah, a little wobbly, but I'm fine."

She didn't need as much time to recover when she used her ability and Parson envied her at the moment. The next part of their escape would be risky and rest heavily on her. Josie would have to lend him a good deal of her energy until they cleared the compound—the one part of their plan Parson didn't like.

But he had an idea, and now seemed the time to test his theory.

He angled his head around. "Jose? You still pissed and angry?"

She snorted. "Damn right I am."

He reached forward. "Good." Hauling her close, he tilted his head and slanted his lips over hers.

Sliding his tongue past her teeth, he thoroughly explored her mouth and she responded in kind. Her hands cupped his face, moving up until her fingers twisted in his hair. His lethargy melted away, replaced by a burst of sexual energy that made his blood hum through his veins. Passion rolled in and Parson tore his mouth from hers, afraid he wouldn't be able to stop if he got too caught up in the heat of her.

Josie blinked and shook her head. "What the hell, Parson?" Realization dawned and she sagged against him. "Dammit. Warn me next time, will you?" She eased away, putting some space between them. "How did you even know that would work?"

Parson shrugged. "I didn't. Not for certain." He slowly got to his feet, happy when his knees stayed steady and didn't buckle. "But I figured it might and couldn’t think of a faster way to get back on my feet." He held out a hand to help her up.

She grasped it and rose, swaying a little.

Parson steadied her. "Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't think the concept all the way through." He cupped her face. "Too much drain on you. I won't be doing that again. I'll find another way to—" Her fingers over his lips stopped his speech.

She pinned him with her gaze. "Stop it. I'm not all shaky because you took too much, okay." She pushed away from the wall and brushed past him, heading toward the next exit.

He caught up with her. "Then why—" He paused when she slid him a sideways glance. "Oh."

She nodded. "Yes, Parse, that kiss had everything to do with me being twitchy." She looked ahead again. "Just not for the reason you thought." She moved forward, stopping at the next junction, easing her head around to make sure they had a clear path across.

Parson followed slowly, mulling her words over in his head. So, the kiss affected her, too.

Josie cleared her throat. "Parse, you coming or what? We've got a schedule to keep here."

He met her gaze. "Yeah, yeah. I'm right behind you."

He'd tuck her response away for later. But if they ever got out of the damned compound, he planned to examine whatever they had between them, up close and personal.

I love writing people with extraordinary powers. It's fun to see what they accomplish… and what limits them. J

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Man Up

Holy jeezits. Arrow blew my mind this week. My twitter feed was full of a bunch of not so great comments, but I loved, loved, loved everything about fourteen. And episode fifteen is supposed to be filled with even more bad-assery. And Bitten just keeps getting better and better. I seriously can't wait each week for the next episode. My fingers, and all other appendages, are crossed for a second season. Also read about the Flash pilot being filmed. Currently, that's the show I'm most looking forward to for next season.

I've also been enjoying seeing Jamie Bamber on my screen in The Smoke. He's so good at roles he can sink his teeth into, and playing Kev definitely gives him room to flex his acting chops. J

Tonight's post is from Man Up, a fantasy novella where my main characters are tied for the top honors at the Academy of Light and aren't happy about it.

Here's the tagline:

Hattie Hale and Nero Palmer, instructors at the Academy of Light, are supposed to set the example, but can't quite get past their competitive natures. A drunken game of one-ups-manship goes all the way to the sleeping chamber because neither will admit to being outdone.

And a preview snippet…

Hattie made a mad dash for the Preceptor's office. She had to get to the grade sheets for finals before Nero. Her class would be at the top of the list this term. They had to be.

She'd worked her cadets hard and they'd really come through for her.

Hattie's lips curved upward in a smile. Nothing like a little one-upsmanship to light a fire under a student's ass. Competing with Nero made being an instructor at the Academy of Light way more fun than it should be.

She stopped outside the door of Amblewood's office and blew out a calming breath. She knocked twice then entered when no response came forth. Ambly wouldn't care if she took a quick glance at the scores.

Rifling around on the desk, she found the folder containing the compilation of each class. She dug out hers and Nero's and dropped the folder on the desk. Holding the two charts side by side, her face fell.

She made a low growling sound. "No effing way."

"Did my class beat yours?"

Startled, Hattie's head whipped around. Nero stood with one shoulder propped against the door jamb, a sly smile on his face.

At least she'd get to remove the smug look. "Nope." She shoved the papers in his direction. "We tied."

His mouth dropped open. "What?" He snatched the pages and gave them a quick glance. "The AoL hasn't had two classes with the same score for finals in over a decade." He strode across the small office and slapped the grade sheets on top of the folder. "A draw. That's just… stupid."

Hattie couldn't agree more. "I know, right? Look at the breakdown. We go practically every other spot." She straightened the notes and pointed to the first line item. "See, my group kicked your ass in levitation." Her extra attention with several students paid off there. "But you top honors in conjuring."

He leaned over her shoulder. "And casting. My cadets were all over those spells." His finger traced the next score. "But your students did the best in combined applications. Double score for that one."

She nodded. "And yours took the top spot in elementals." She shot him a sideways glance. "I need to figure out how you get them to deftly control the wind. That's always the hardest to manage."

He grinned. "That's one trade secret I'll never share." He backed away, giving her a little breathing room.

She took advantage. "Don't be so certain. I'm going to keep a very sharp eye on your next term. I will discover your secret."

Nero smirked. "You're welcome to try." He gathered their sheets and stuffed them back inside the folder. "As for me, I'm gonna focus on the combined." He flipped the file closed and frowned. "But right now, I'm heading to the Scholar. I need to wash the bitter taste of sharing top score with you away."

Hattie snorted. "I think I'll join you." She lifted a brow. "Unless you're afraid I'll drink you under the table."

Nero cocked his head to one side. "Is that a challenge, Hattie?" He didn't wait for an answer. "You're on. Let's go."

I love writing characters that compete with each other, usually in the name of good fun. J

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye