Sunday Snippet: Nothing Special

July 31, 2016

The Last Ship might be the death of me. Last week's episode had my heart pounding. I forgot to breathe during the escape from the minefield, which happened toward the end of the episode. Then, I live tweeted that I'd be drinking like five shots of alcohol for fortitude because there was still time for something else crazy to happen—with only three minutes left in the show! And, of course, something else CRAZY did happen. LOL What a way to end.

Killjoys is seriously becoming one of my very favorite shows. I'm completely sucked into what's going on and in love with the subtle nuances and shifts in relationships. I have a sneaky suspicion there's going to be a big payoff for some of the dynamics being set into motion. Can't wait to see what happens next.

Dark Matter has a terrific cadre of women characters. I'm interested in the newest addition to the crew and hope she sticks around for a while. Not to take away anything from the men. They hold their own, too. Nice to see a familiar face acting alongside the android in this episode. Okay, maybe not alongside, but in the same vicinity. LOL

Still no Strike Back this week due to a crazy schedule again. But… with the sad news of Jerry Doyle's passing, I'm very happy to be in the middle of a Babylon 5 rewatch. Almost finished with season two and looking forward to starting the third.

Tonight's post is from Nothing Special, a sexy short that got a start with a prompt asking to write a story around the solstice having come and gone but one character has something for the other.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Masha Tuck and Ryce Reynoldson work tirelessly around the winter solstice to help provide a meaningful celebration to their fae and non-fae neighbors. Masha uncovers the perfect gift for Ryce—just a book, nothing special—but if she gives it to him, it'll add depth to their weird relationship and she's not sure she's ready for them to be a 'thing'.

And a preview snippet…

Ryce stepped back, inviting Masha into his cottage. "Hey. I didn't expect you until tomorrow." When she entered, he closed the door then turned and grasped her shoulders. "But I'm glad you're here." His hands slid up to cup her face.

Leaning in, his mouth closed over hers. She responded with a low moan, which always turned him on. Ryce didn't know why she'd stopped by, but he welcomed having her. The crazy schedule they'd kept from samhain to solstice didn't allow for much more than insanely hot sex and dodging the weather fronts when they moved through.

Never enough time to really sit down, relax, have a discussion. Not that Masha did the whole conversation thing to a great extent. She'd squirm in her seat then get up and pace the room when talk turned to anything personal or deeper than fae council business.

He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue past her lips. Masha's hands grabbed moved up to his chest and one fisted in his t-shirt. He angled his head to one side and moved her further into the living room. She grasped his bicep to keep her balance and a muffled thunk followed.

Ryce eased away from her and glance down. Masha stooped and scooped up a large book, tucking it under her arm again. The bulk of her coat hid it from his view.

Curious.

He blinked and shook his head. "Sorry, Masha. Didn't realize you were carrying around heavy book." He nodded toward the sofa, fighting back a sheepish grin. "Then again, didn't give you time to say anything when you walked in either."

Masha's lips curved but a pink flush stained her cheeks. "Er, well… I rather liked the warm welcome." She eased away and placed the book on his ottoman before shrugging out of her outerwear. "The book's for you." Turning away, she draped her jacket over the arm of a chair, not meeting his gaze.

Ryce tilted his head to one side, eyeing her. Interesting. Hedging her bets? Not her style at all. What kind of book did she bring him?

The answer could wait for a moment. Ryce strolled over to his antique hutch and opened the top doors. He had a little something for her, too.

Masha finally settled on the sofa and lifted a shoulder when he turned around. "The book is nothing special. Just something I thought you'd like." She folded her hands in her lap.

Ryce paused mid-step. "How about I judge the significance?" He crossed the small distance and dropped down beside her on the couch. "I have a something small for you, too." He set an ornate box on the ottoman next to the book.

This one is fun. I love to write an internal conflict being overcome by love.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Nothing but the Truth

Well, The Last Ship finally dropped another death on me. And of course it's someone I did like. That said, they weren't in my no kill zone so I'm bracing for impact this week. LOL I still think the president is a potential bad buy. There's just some slightly slimy about him, in my opinion.

Killjoys had a terrific episode. I seriously love having everyone show up, even if only briefly. I'm kind of thrilled Fancy didn't end up dying last season, and I realize this isn't the first time we've seen him, but I like watching him in action.

Dark Matter definitely has my interest. I did worry after the "meh" first episode, but since then, they've hit on all cylinders. Loving the interaction between Five and everyone else. I also can't wait to see what happens with the android.

Busy week kept me from sinking back into Strike Back, but I did watch more Babylon 5. One of my favorite things about season two is how things start coming together. Random bits that didn't seem to be important become so. I love that!

That's all for television this week. Tonight's post is from Nothing but the Truth, a novella built around a prompt of writing a story about telling the whole truth.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Lexa Chan and Quint Maximoff work the seedy underworld of supernatural bounty hunting. Lexa's got a tough as nails reputation and she competes with Quint's larger than life persona. The Halfway, a bar catering to supernatural and mortal beings, is neutral ground where Lexa and Quint form an interesting relationship.

And a preview snippet…

Quint's lips curved. "You're looking a little lost, Lexa." He strode to the sofa and sat down. "But, I get it. Without the mantle of protection my reputation provides, I have no idea what to do with myself." Jerking his head toward the chair, he invited her to sit. "But sometimes wearing the persona like a cloak gets old. At least for me, it does." He eyed the bottle and frowned.

He should have snagged it before he sat. She had him off his game.

Lexa bit back a grin and grabbed the spirits. "Me, too. I'm just not sure what you want here." She crossed the floor and plopped down onto the chair. "Or what I want. But sitting at the bar, going through the same old performances, isn't it." Resting the alcohol on her knee, she nodded so Quint knew to share whenever he wanted.

He didn't take the offering… yet. "Agreed. How about we start with saying what we discuss here, stays here." He quirked a brow.

Lexa flashed a smile and relaxed a little more. "I can get behind that." Lifting the decanter by the neck she held it out to him.

Quint took a swig and passed it back to her. She followed suit.

A measure of silence stretched between them. Not uncomfortable, more cautious. Quint didn't have many friends and didn't know how to do intimate conversation.

He settled down a little further on the cushions. "Do you sleep at night?" His curiousity demanded to know if she struggled the way he did.

Lexa lifted a shoulder. "Usually." She waited a beat. "Sometimes with one eye open."

Okay, sounded familiar. Except with him… he always slept with one eye open.

Quint met her gaze. "And when you can't do that, you end up here." He kept his voice neutral, but truly wondered how she dealt with the nasty stuff on a regular basis.

Not that he didn't buy her answer. But he worked the streets same as she did. The danger followed him everywhere, too.

Lexa's eyes widened in surprise. "Most of the time, I land here. But I have a couple other places I can crash if necessary." Placing the bottle on the floor, she leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. "Your turn. What brought you to The Halfway tonight?"

Shit. Even if they left everything within these four walls, he didn't want to talk about why he'd sought the sanctuary of the bar. The reason a little too fresh and not enough space to process yet.

But she'd been honest with him and he didn't want to lay a line of bullshit her way.

He shifted his position on the sofa. "Can I take a pass on answering that one and get a new question?" Trust didn't come easy and Lexa hadn't earned the full disclosure card yet.

She tilted her head to one side, studying him a moment. A myriad of reactions marred her features, but she recovered quickly.

Straightening, she glanced away. "Yeah, I feel that." A haunted look entered her gaze when she met his again, but she gave him a cheeky smile. "Let's start with something a little more fun. Boxers or briefs?" Her lips twitched.

Quint barked out a laugh. "Neither. I go commando." Silly, he could do.

Lexa quirked an eyebrow. "So…" Her gaze strayed to his torso and groin. "You're not wearing…"

He lifted his chin. "Yep. Bare-assed naked under the pants." Waiting for her reaction, he bit his cheek to keep from laughing again.

Lexa blew out a breath. "Well, hell. That's not distracting or anything." A flush stained her cheeks and she picked up the bottle, downing a healthy gulp.

Quint lifted a brow. "Distracting? How?"

Lexa snorted. "If I have to elaborate, we've got a problem." A sexy laugh rumbled from her throat. "Let's say my active imagination is kicking into high gear and leave it at that."

Quint's eyes went wide and the atmosphere became charged.

This one may end up as part of a series featuring other characters / couples. Love how it's coming together so far.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Not on the Same Page

July 17, 2016

Another week of not losing any favorites on The Last Ship. Now I'm really concerned whoever is next will completely gut me. The Greens need to stay safe, at least long enough for a lovely family reunion. I actually fear something will happen to Mrs. Green because that's so not the obvious choice. I'll say this… if the president or Jacob the asshat reporter tries to harm her, I'll come after them. (In actuality, it'll probably be the blonde advisor—whose name I can't be bothered to remember—who does something awful to Kara, which, yeah, will add her to my list of 'deserves to die in a fire' candidates.)

Killjoys had a terrific episode this week. I'm excited to watch the next episode. Really interested in finding out more about Dutch's history, but I also want to see more about Johnny and D'Av, too. Sprinkling in small details about Pree, Pawter, and Alvis along the way is always welcome, too. I'm a little less into the whole nine thing, but I could become intrigued if they play that out a little over this season and really dive into it during the next season. (hint, hint).

Dark Matter jumped up on the interest chart again. I have a sneaky feeling there's been a switcheroo regarding One and I'm looking forward to finding out if my theory is correct. That said, I'm enjoying the dynamic with the remaining crew and the newcomers. We'll see if that continues. J

Babylon 5 and Strike Back rewatches are ongoing. I'm leaning toward a Banshee binge since I'll finish up Strike Back before B5 is complete. I'm also debating whether to start a few of the Netflix series I've wanted to dive into. Decisions, decisions.

Enough TV. Tonight's post is from Not on the Same Page, a novella that got a start with a written quote: I thought we were talking about wanting the same thing.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Irini Domaine loves Nathair Sofen but marries another to fulfill a familial obligation. When she suggests carrying on the relationship with Nathair he coldly refuses, which makes Irini vow to slowly but surely convince him otherwise.

And a preview snippet…

Nathair jerked awake, the bed no longer warmed by Irini's presence. He yawned and stretched, sitting up to swing his legs over the edge of the mattress. He blinked the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes and glanced around, hoping to hear the shower running.

Silence met his ears. "Iri?" He stood thinking she might be in the kitchen.

No aroma of fresh-brewed coffee met his nostrils and she always needed a jolt of caffeine to start the day. Wandering to the doorway, he didn't bother with clothes. He planned to drag Irini back to bed the first chance he got.

Making his way through the small cottage, he discovered her gone, no trace of her left behind. Unsettled, he finally dressed, made coffee, and exited the cottage, determined to find her. Maybe she got an early callout and didn't want to wake him.

His blood ran hot at the sight greeting him when he left the house. Banners and confetti lined the street, announcing the nuptials of a happy couple. The names on the signs sent a surge of pain and anger ripping through his system.

Irini Domaine and Braca Norj.

Married at dawn. Uniting the families. Forming a new cornerstone for the community.

His coffee cup hit the ground and bile rose in his throat. Shuffling forward, the world spinning sideways, his only thought to seek her out and call her wedded bliss for the utter bullshit it had to be. With each stride forward, his step grew stronger and his gait more precise. He strode through the throng of people, which grew thicker the closer he got to the town square. The grotto, surrounded by well-wishers, lit up with golden and pale pink light, the colors of the two families.

Nathair pushed his way to the front of the crowd, ready to call his lover out. "Irini!" His voice sounded like a whip, cracking through the laughter and joy surrounding the couple.

Irini tensed but nodded, pasting a bright smile on her face. "Nathair. Thank you for coming to wish us well." She held out a hand clasped his palm within hers.

When her gaze met his, determination and, well, fear filled the normally sparkling depths. She basically gave him the lay of land without saying a word. She'd done her duty by marrying to unite the two houses and something about the union—or maybe his reaction—had her fingers trembling in his grasp.

Nothing scared Irini. To openly show fright, even if only to him, kicked his ire down several notches. Instead of making the scene he planned, he directed his attention to her groom and gave him a tight smile.

Facing Irini again, he squeezed her hand. "All the best to you for the future." He sounded terse but he couldn't do any better.

He'd miss the silky glide of her skin against his, but he didn't outwardly show a reaction. His goodbye couldn't be clearer and when sadness crept into her gaze, he hardened his heart against the stab of remorse for putting it there. She didn't warrant his care or concern. Not anymore.

Stepping away from the couple, he turned and walked back to his cottage, ignoring everyone and everything along the way. Entering into his quiet home, he glanced around and when the rage built again, he unleashed the fury, sending a whirlwind spinning throughout the domain.

Never again.

Irini had taken his love and burned it to the ground. She married another man, putting a centuries' old pact—not even enforceable anymore—ahead of everything else. Nathair didn't care what he destroyed in his wrath.

Because Irini had wrecked him. Left him broken, bleeding, and emotionally torn.

Ruined.

His head snapped up and the swirling wind ceased. "No. She doesn't have power over me." Bending down, he started picking up the mess he'd created. "Not anymore."

I'm not a huge angst writer, but this one has a large dollop to start things off. LOL

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Not Gonna Happen

Well, The Last Ship didn't kill any of my favorites last week. On one hand, this makes me very happy. On the other, I'm now wondering when, who, and how much it will destroy me when they take out a crewmember. LOL

Killjoys continues to rock my world. I love the show so much. I also love seeing so many familiar faces from other genre shows. Same goes for Dark Matter. After a "meh" opening episode, this week's turned out to be so much better with the possibility of a few cast shake-ups. I'm a little iffy on where things are going but I'm in for the ride.

The rewatch of Babylon 5 is up to the start of season two. I'm also in season two of Strike Back. Summer is great for sinking into and revisiting old favorites.

Tonight's post is from Not Gonna Happen, a novella started with the writer's prompt of slasher film in the woods.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Gina Ames and Tuck Danvers sign up for a weekend of hunting for an urban legend. When their other team members start dropping, one by one, they take off for the safety of the city. Too bad the concrete and steel can't protect them from what follows them home.

And a preview snippet…

For once, Gina didn't argue with him. Tuck thanked providence or whatever ruled the universe. Any other time, she'd be digging her heels in, trying to head toward danger instead of away.

Losing Jake and Marley changed everything.

Sticking close to his back, Gina spoke in low tones. "So, what's the plan?" She kept her gaze fixed on the tree line and a finger hooked through a belt loop of his jeans.

Tuck shrugged. "Find a busy, well-lit place to sit down and figure one out." He hit the sidewalk and made a beeline for the street.

Gina let go and wrapped an arm around his waist when they crossed the deserted intersection. "Gonna be hard to find something at three in the morning." She glanced back over her shoulder and sighed. "Still there. He's crossing in the middle of the block, where the street light isn't shining as bright." Burrowing into his side, she shivered a little.

Tuck put his arm around her, hauling her close. "Let's hit the Waffle Hut." The place never closed and shined line a beacon to interstate traffic.

Gina grunted in agreement. "I could go for waffles and home fries." Her gaze slid sideways. "We're only assuming it won't risk coming into the light. What if we're wrong?"

She made a good point. "We'll cross that bridge when we have to. It's a safe bet it's only after us and we can haul ass if necessary." His gut suggested they'd be in the clear once they got somewhere with other people.

Whatever the hell they'd drawn out of the catacombs only wanted their blood. His instincts rarely steered him wrong and he counted on their guidance at the moment. Because losing four friends over what should have been a lark had his brain tied up in knots.

Gina nudged him. "Stop it. We're almost there. Think about the others when we're not out in the open." She took the lead, her hand grasping his.

Tuck breathed easier when they breezed through the door and found an empty booth by the windows. The creepy creature hovered outside, staying in the shadows. So far, so good. If the thing didn't like light, Tuck and Gina had a small advantage.

Gina waved the waitress—a familiar face—over. "Hey, Shirl. Coffee, please. And a number five special." She glanced in Tuck's direction. "You want the same?"

Tuck nodded. "Yeah. Bacon instead of sausage." He flashed a smile. "And scrambled eggs?"

Shirl shot him a mock glare. "Always gotta make things difficult, don't you?" Her lips curved in a grin. "But you're so handsome I can't say no." She winked at Gina. "Let me know when you get tired of him, honey." Tucking her order pad into her apron pocket, she sashayed to the counter and called out their request.

Gina laughed. "Coming here was a good idea. A little slice of normal to ground us in reality." She fiddled with the placemat, going silent.

Tuck covered her fingers with his. "We'll figure out what happened, Gina." His thumb stroked her skin.

Her head snapped up, determination in her gaze. "Damned right we will."

I had no idea what I'd end up with based on the prompt, but I'm having great fun writing this story.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Not Enough Hope

Ahhh, The Last Ship makes me so very happy. And none of my favorites ended up dead in the last episode so there's that, too. I won't hold out too much hope for a death free episode tonight. Best to be prepared, right?

Killjoys came back with a bang. Gotta say I'm super happy to see it back on my screen. Here's hoping the whole season is as terrific as the premiere.

Dark Matter… eh, I was a little disappointed in the opener. That said, there are some interesting developments, especially given the ending. I'll reserve judgment before deciding if season two is a bust.

The finale for Wynonna Earp rocked. Fingers are still crossed for a second season. Some great seed were planted for future threads and I hope Syfy gives this show a chance.

Babylon 5 rewatch continues. I'm almost through the first season and so many little things I missed on the other viewings are popping up. I love when that happens.

Strike Back is also entertaining me with the same things happening. I catch small things I missed when I watched the first time.

That's it for TV this week. Hope everyone enjoys the fireworks shows if they like that kind of thing. Me? I'm happy watching them on what else… television. J

Tonight's post is from Not Enough Hope, a novella that started with the prompt of write a story that involves a lie.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Early Gibbons walks away from her position in the fae court—and Salem Powell—to forge her own path in the human realm. When she discovers a vengeance hound on her trail, she returns to the land of fae to find out who unleashed the beast, which may be tricky since Salem is the leader and she can't discount him as the culprit.

And a preview snippet…

The first fingers of dawn streaked through the sky when he lifted the latch on the gate and walked up the well-tended path to the small cottage. Knocking three times, he stepped away from the door and braced for impact.

Several moments passed and he turned, frustrated he'd even thought about stopping so early. He got three feet away when the door jerked open, revealing Early clad in a fluffy robe, her hair dripping wet rivulets on the collar.

She eased back and gave him a nod. "Salem. Had a feeling you'd be here early." Sweeping her arm toward the interior, she invited him inside. "Coffee's on, so help yourself. Give me a moment to get dressed and I'll join you." She didn't wait for a response, assuming Salem would do as directed.

Even though caffeine sounded just about right and lifesaving, he perversely refused to go further than the foyer. She'd had a feeling he'd be here early? Had she drawn him with her spellbinding magick? He had no idea what she'd been into in the human realm. He couldn't discount the possibility she'd gone over to the dark arts and become involved with the outcasts who practiced black fae magick.

Early emerged from the bedroom, dressed in a flowing shirt and wine-colored leggings. Salem cast his gaze in her direction and gave her a slow onceover.

She stopped and rolled her eyes. "Oh, sweet universe, Salem. I haven't gone all dark side on you." Throwing her hands up, she stomped into the kitchen. "You can believe the worst of me but, dammit, never, ever, think I'd throw my lot in with the black souls who practice that dangerous hoodoo shit." Her displeasure had coffee sloshing out the mugs she poured the liquid into.

She grabbed a towel to mop up the mess, muttering obscenities.

Some things never changed.

Picking up the cups, she carried them into the small living area, handing one to him. "You're easy to read, Salem. At least to me. Not that hard to figure what your next move would be." Stepping back, she met his gaze. "This may not mean jack, but I'll never use magick on you. I give you my word." Her tone dared him to not believe her.

Salem studied her for several long moments before taking a bracing gulp of the strong brew. "I'll accept your word for now. But trust doesn't come easily." He nodded toward the seating arrangement by the fireplace. "We'll have to rebuild some of the bridges you burned." Following her, he took the chair after she settled onto the couch.

Early sighed. "A massive undertaking, I know." She gave him a sideways glance. "I had no other choice but to come back, Salem. I couldn't let the hound roam around in the human realm."

And didn't she nail the problem on the head with one, brief statement.

I'm really enjoying the discovery in this story. This one is pretty much total pantster. J

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye