Sunday Snippet: Stay the Course

So… last day of April is here and I'm finally starting to realize I have a kid graduating in a month. It's my second experience, my oldest graduated five years ago, but, wow, reality hits in weird ways. LOL I've got a party to plan and things to make happen.

Thank goodness for television when I need a reality break. Gotham came back with a vengeance and delivered a very fun hour of TV. While the whole owl society thing makes me roll my eyes, I have a feeling the payoff will end up being worth it.

The Flash returned with a great episode. I'm not feeling as much love for this season's overall arc, but I do enjoy this show so much. I have two working theories for who revealed themselves to Kaitlyn and either makes me very excited.

Arrow continues to be my favorite show. Having Felicity go dark side is an interesting twist, even if it feels a little forced sometimes. Throwing ARGUS in and creating tension and conflict with John makes me happy. Looking forward to seeing how the season ends.

Riverdale upped the stakes again. My twitter feed is half and half on the love / hate for the show. Personally, I love it. There are some terrific little twists that make me happy. And I thoroughly enjoy the grown-ups getting caught up in their own drama and how that plays out between the kids.

I haven't really mentioned Doctor Who. There's a reason for that. While I really like the new companion and the sidekick, I'm just not excited about this season. I'll be happy to get through and see who Thirteen will be. Hopefully we'll get a new Master, too.

Class isn't bad. It's not quite the same as Sarah Jane's adventures, but it's got a good vibe and I like the interactions with the characters.

I've been busy enough to not really have time to catch up on my binge watch shows. With nicer weather, my cleaning gene kicks in and I start mini-projects that tend to last the entire summer. LOL

That's it for TV this week. Tonight's post is from Stay the Course, a novella that began with the two-word prompt of "God speed". Technically, that should be one word, but I'll run with the prompt anyway.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Nadia Iris is at a crossroads and has to choose whether to find her path to fulfillment as an adept or stay stagnant in her current position. She decides to go on a journey quest, but has to leave Falk Ridenour behind. Falk isn't happy, but supports her choice, even knowing the hardship she'll face.

And a preview snippet…

Falk Ridenour observed his current pupil work through a tricky incantation for making a plant sprout. "No, Nadia, pull back. You're going to—" The seedling rapidly expanded, grew to maturity, then shriveled and disintegrated into dust.

She threw her hands in the air. "Dammit!" Stalking to the corner, she lowered her head and breathed in and out, using the technique to calm down.

Falk gave her some space. He didn't have to point out where she went wrong. Nadia Iris's talent bordered on phenomenal. Adept at manipulating witch magick on multiple levels—very uncommon—she lacked control. His assignment to help her find a focus proved challenging and often mind-boggling. How could he help her when she couldn't get a handle on any one gift?

Then again, the fact she seemed to have attunement to all known elements of the witch's pentagram made her a rarity worth exploring.

She tilted her head back and blew out a heavy sigh. "Why can't I get this?" Straightening, she turned to face him. "Hell, I don't get anything?" She spun around, clearly frustrated.

Nadia got almost everything. Managing it, on the other hand, not so much.

Her irritation and discouragement didn't help. The forces they drew on tended to clash during her use and Falk had yet to get a handle on why. His strength with the psychic gifts usually helped determine a reason for a pupil's struggle. But Nadia almost always blocked him when he tried to get a read on her issues. Probably not intentional, yet another angle they needed to figure out.

Whatever might be going on, his inability to help also made her crazy. He didn't have to use his talent to see that one. Her body language and attitude telegraphed her annoyance for the entire world to see.

Nadia whirled back around. "What am I supposed to do, Falk?" Her arms folded around her waist and her foot beat a rapid staccato on the floor.

Falk didn't have a definitive answer, but as long as she held back, they wouldn't accomplish anything.

He gave her his best bet. "You have to decide to move ahead or remain stagnant, Nadia. That means asking a hard question. What do you want?"

Nadia's going to ask that question over and over again. It's looking like there might be two more books after this one.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Slip of the Tongue

Well, my youngest attended our local prom last night and she looked so beautiful. I'm always amazed I had a hand in creating my kids. They're good people. J

Gotham returns Monday! I'm pretty excited for the final half of this season. Also looking forward to having my CW shows back with new episodes. And the summer TV fare isn't looking too bad either.

My work schedule is jammed and I love it! I like to stay busy, even when it cuts into my writing time. I could live with about four more hours each day, but I'm getting a lot better at managing personal with professional.

Tonight's post is from Slip of the Tongue, a novella that got started with a two-word prompt: love you. I enjoy having something fun to get the creative juices flowing.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Sylvie Brown and Holden Baker are word alchemists, creating the strongest, most intricate spells in their realm. One slip of the tongue can bring catastrophic destruction… or it can garner surprising results. Sylvie learns two little words can hold a wealth of meaning.

And a preview snippet…

Sylvie Brown focused her attention on the intricate protection spell. "The premier elder better appreciate how many layers I have to add." He'd made a lot of enemies and simple ward wouldn't function against the type of magick and spellcraft his foes could conjure.

A knock sounded and Sylvie paused her work, keeping the pattern of words hanging but cloaking them with a quick hex. The precept, Marna Janis, entered Sylvie's chambers with a hot and handsome man following behind. Since Marna's significant other happened to be female, he must be here for Sylvie.

Sylvie quirked an eyebrow. "Is this my reward for a job well done? Because I haven't finished the protective order yet." She didn't elaborate too much; didn't know the primo specimen of male glory, after all.

Marna clicked her tongue. "Sylvie, behave." She nodded toward the gorgeous man. "You'll send Mr. Baker running in the opposite direction. And we need him."

Sylvie straightened. "Does this mean we're finally going to fortify the estate? Please tell me we are." She sent a glance toward Marna's Mr. Baker, taking in the almost militaristic appearance—with the exception of the longish hair.

Marna inclined her chin. "We are. Holden, this is Sylvia Brown, our word alchemist."

Sylvie rolled her eyes. "It's Sylvie." She moved forward and stretched out her hand. "I'm thrilled to meet you, Holden… even if you aren't my reward." She got a jolt of electric awareness when he clasped her palm.

Marna shook her head. "I'll let you two get acquainted. Sylvie, Holden has the layout of the estate. I expect you to follow his lead on where to begin. His experience, in this case, trumps your need to run everything." She gave Sylvie a pointed look before heading to the door and closing it quietly behind her.

Holden stroked his thumb over the back of Sylvie's hand. "I wouldn't mind, you know." His voice had a sexy rumble to it.

Sylvie blinked, at a sudden loss for words—a rare occurrence. "Um… mind what?" Her skin tingled under his touch.

Holden gave her a wolfish smile. "Being your reward."

Sylvie may have finally met her match. Holden has several tricks up his sleeve to help bring Sylvie out of her shell.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Six Degrees of Separation

Happy Easter to those who celebrate. I'm always down for baked ham, mashed potatoes, and noodles. Also, the weather couldn't be more beautiful today.

Thoroughly enjoyed Talking with Chris Hardwick last week. I truly enjoy his casual approach to interviewing. He's such a fan of everything and it shows.

Not much on television this week. I'm looking forward to the return of my lineup.

Riverdale had a great episode. Secrets and sins run deep in the small town and it's so cool to see the interesting ways both get exposed. It'll be fun to see how Archie's mom mixes it up with everyone.

Had a busy work week but had some time to look forward to some returning shows. It looks like Syfy on Fridays will be awesome this summer. Killjoys, Dark Matter, and Wynonna Earp all in one block? Doesn't get much better.

And that's it for television. Tonight's post is from Six Degrees of Separation, a novella that continues the story from The Souvenir.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Melick Traynor and Ramona Peartry, two Academy of Light magicians, have a single passionate encounter after Ramona nearly loses her life to a dragon. But when they navigate their new relationship status, Melick has to step down as Ramona's precept, but neglects to tell her why.

And a preview snippet…

Melick ducked into the alcove and Ramona raised an eyebrow. He'd cut it close to the end of visitation and she'd almost given up the idea of seeing him today. He sat on the edge of the bed and she looked closely at him, noticing fatigue and something else in his eyes.

Something off, definitely.

"Thought maybe you decided not to stop by today." She'd open with neutrality and keep any recrimination from her tone.

Melick flashed a grin, but it faded quickly. "I almost didn't make it. But I've got a couple things I wanted to talk to you about."

Ramona waited patiently, but once the words were out, he sort of hemmed and hawed and talked about nothing important.

He acted weird. Okay, weirder. It gave her a complex.

She finally took the initiative. "Look, spit it out. There's something off with you and it's making me nutters."

His shoulders bunched up and for a moment Ramona thought he'd take his leave. Instead, he straightened his back and blew out a heavy breath.

"I started the process to find a new precept for you."

The shock of it hit her. Deflated her. He wanted to get rid of her?

"This is about that first night, isn't it? The healing pool." She dropped her eyes so he couldn't see the hurt in them. "You realize you made a mistake and you don't want me."

Melick made a garbled sound. "What? No. I mean, yes. But no." He popped up and started pacing. "Dammit, Ramona, I can't say anything else about it right now."

She could push him, but the set look on his face convinced her it wouldn't be worth it.

Fine. At least maybe she'd stop reliving that stupid night over and over in her head.

She folded her hands in her lap. "Right, whatever." Her fingers smoothed the coverlet. "What else?"

Confusion crossed his features. "What else, what?"

She sighed. "You said a couple of things. What. Else?"

For a moment he looked dumbstruck, then comprehension set in. "Oh! Yeah. You've been here too long, Ramona." He sat back down again. "You have to work harder to get back on your feet."

"Is that it?" She reached over and picked up her deck of cards, idly shuffling them between her fingers.

Her bored tone must have stymied him. Melick opened his mouth, but closed it again. Took a moment to study her.

"Are you really okay?"

His tone made her heart hurt. "I'm fine." Did he actually give a damn?

Melick grasped her chin. "Then try, please try, to do what they tell you and get back to learning."

Ramona stopped moving the cards. "I will." She held his gaze. "When I'm damn good and ready." Started shuffling again and pulled her chin from his fingers. "Who knows, maybe I'll have a new precept by them."

She lowered her eyes and attempted to ignore him.

Thoroughly loving the interaction between Melick and Ramona. I'm hoping the sages might have another story idea for these two.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Shit Happens

Ugh. This has been a rough week. A nasty stomach virus worked its way through the entire family. So glad we're all back to being semi-normal.

Looking forward to catching Talking with Chris Hardwick tonight. I'm excited to see what he brings to the screen each week.

Legends of Tomorrow had a solid finale. I look forward to seeing how the team deals with the time quakes. Awesome to see Mick pretty much choose his side.

Riverdale keeps getting better and better. I love this show. Watching Archie screw things up makes me happy. It's nice to have a character who gets to grow and change… as long as he actually gets to do both.

Finished up season three of City Homicide and got a start on season four. I'd forgotten how much I didn't like Rhys. Can't remember if he ended up growing on me or not. Took a small break to rewatch Pitch Perfect and do my happy chair dance while viewing.

That's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Shit Happens, a working title based on the two-word prompt that started the story, a sexy short.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Nyla White, an up and coming cage fighter, has buttloads of potential but her 'Sh*t happens' attitude prevents her from attaining the top spot. Erik Stevens, her trainer, pushes her to use her emotions to own her talent, which Nyla is hesitant to do—because she's got strong feelings for Erik.

And a preview snippet…

"Come on, Nyla. Focus. End this."

Nyla White pranced around the ring surrounded by domed magic. A cage match usually had her amped up to win, but Erik's commentary kept throwing her off. She hadn't expected him for the preliminary bout.

Her gaze skate in his direction and, as usual, she choked on the air she breathed. The man had no idea how much she wanted him. And he never would.

But having him at the match sucked balls. She could beat her opponent. No question there. Rahma Dar fought by rote and habit, never veering from her tried and true methodology of wielding her power.

And Erik helped Nyla pick out those weaknesses on her very first day of training with him.

So why am I blowing this now?

Because I'm going through the motions, just like Rahma. I'm holding back because of Erik.

Nyla needed to tap into her emotions if she wanted to defeat Rahma. Her base of power increased when she homed in on specific feelings. But Nyla couldn't risk digging deep. Staying detached made her sloppy, but she could control her force. She could.

Summoning a line of blue light, she directed the arc toward her opponent. Rahma deflected with a shield then followed through with a yellow streak of flame.

"Nyla! Use your skill. You're better than this."

Erik's admonishment grated. Nyla blew out a harsh breath then dragged in a calming one. She would not lose control. She couldn't risk exposing her feelings to Erik.

She needed him in her corner. If she didn't land a spot on the circuit, her world might crash in on her. Food and shelter rated high on her list of necessities.

So, why did you fall for him? When you know what happened with his last fighter.

Honest answer? Nyla couldn't stop her reaction any more than she could quit breathing. He got her on a level no one else had ever tried.

Not even her family, when she'd had one.

Hoping to put an end to the match and walk away the victor, Nyla pulled a double arc of red light to her fingers, letting the energy build and the tension draw. Rahma narrowed her eyes, waiting to counter whatever Nyla sent forward. Erik paced back and forth, his gaze darting between Rahma and Nyla. His focus zeroed in on Nyla and she faltered, losing the edge she'd sought by bringing her emotion to the forefront. She tamped all feeling down and let the bolts fly, flinging them away with no control.

Erik shouted. "Nyla, no!"

Too late, she couldn't call the energy back and Rahma dodged, but not fast enough. The taser-like bursts caught her in their grip before she could prepare a defensive move. Nyla fought a wave of nausea, her gaze flying to Erik. His mouth open to speak but nothing came out. Instead he blinked, tilting his head to one side. Dammit, what did he see? She quickly schooled her features, standing with her arms to her sides, her head down. An injury stopped the bout and a forfeit would be called.

She'd lost.

Erik strode over and leaned in close. "Showers. Now. I'll deal with Dar's coach and the board."

Nyla gave a terse nod and turned to exit the ring.

"Do not leave the facility, Nyla."

She paused mid-stride, ready to argue. The look on Erik's face stopped her. Disappointment mixed with something intangible. Her shoulders slumped and she started for the showers again.

Worst. Night. Ever.

I'll come up with a better title, but the sages enjoy the tongue in cheek working one.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye  

Sunday Snippet: Shine One On

Well, the beginning of April is here and I've been bitten by the spring cleaning bug. This is not a bad thing. House, garage, and computer files are getting spiffed up and decluttered.

The Walking Dead finale is tonight and I'll be there. Not sure I'll pay a lot of attention, but I can't not watch.

The Flash introduced an irritating villain. Can't say I'm sad to see him go. Also really frustrated with the whole Savitar storyline at this point. I'm ready for the final end game and season finale.

Legends of Tomorrow rewrote reality and kept me entertained. Looking forward to the season finale to see how they resolve everything. Mick remains one of my favorite characters and it better stay that way.

Arrow's deft mastery of weaving Oliver's past into his present life will be missed. This isn't to say the writers won't continue churning out excellent fare. In fact, I'm looking forward to seeing how the story continues. Something tells me Oliver's past will still come back to haunt him in many other ways.

Riverdale had a new episode and, wow, I wanted to get a better read on Alice Cooper… I got it. A little sad it's at the expense of Hal, but the interesting wrinkle might be worth it. FP's playing a sly game. He doesn't get near enough credit for being a true mastermind. Come on, people. He's Jughead's dad. The kid had to get his smarts from someone. Just saying.

I'm still binge-watching City Homicide, working my way through season three. The first season is probably my absolute favorite but I do enjoy the later seasons also.

That's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Shine One On, a novella that got a writing community prompt start; prohibition, one character owns a speakeasy, one is the moonshine supplier. I decided to go urban noir with this and make it an alternative universe. I'm hoping for a twenties / thirties / forties feel with some nice twists.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Against state regulations, Maxine Wynne braves the revenuer to provide speakeasy owner, Drake Kestleman, enough moonshine to keep his customers happy. When Maxine is caught, Drake launches Operation Shine One On to get her out of danger and back in business.

And a preview snippet…

Maxine Wynne wiped down the kitchen counter and kept an eye on the oven. Dinner time would see seven hungry men climbing the stairs from her basement, ready to fill their bellies full of home-cooking. Not that Maxine cooked. She had a woman who prepped everything and left Maxine with the minimal responsibility of taking it out at a specified time.

Thank the world for small favors.

The phone rang right when Maxine put the last pan on the table, the clump of boots on the stairs right on cue.

She answered the line. "Wynne's Rooming House. You've got Maxine on the line." Waving for the guys to help themselves, she took the call into the front parlor for some quiet.

"Hey, Maxine." The whiskey smooth voice caressed her eardrums. "Let's shine one on, honey, say sometime on Wednesday, the twenty-seventh?" Drake Kestleman, her best and favorite customer, never failed to adhere to her carefully constructed code for placing an order.

Drake also never failed to make her pulse thrum, set her imagination on fire, and yearn for something she could never have.

A man in her life.

Never again.

Poking her head into the kitchen, she motioned for Beau Lamont, her right hand man, to join her. "Drake, love, you know I'll do anything to see to your needs. Let me check my calendar." Translation. She had to find if she could fill his order for premium alcohol. She quickly did a few calculations on the notepad on her side table then turned the page for Beau to read. He shook his head and held up two fingers. He'd need at least a couple of days to make a batch of premium moonshine, the only kind Drake bought.

Maxine purred into the phone. "But I'm sorry, hot stuff, I won't be free until Friday. Can you hold out that long, handsome?" She could barely keep up with orders, but Drake would definitely get his.

Drake sighed. "It'll be a rough wait, Maxine." He paused. "But only because you're my best girl."

Translation. He'd hold out for the good stuff. No one made better 'shine than Maxine.

She purred. "I'll make it worth your while, Drake." Meaning she'd provide a few extra cases of hooch, free of charge.

Drake played along and added a sexy hum of approval. "You never disappoint, Maxine. Until Friday." He cut his end of the call.

Maxine shook her head and handed the phone to Beau who returned the handset to the receiver.

Flirty banter with Drake always got her revved up. But the need for encoded conversations and constant vigilance required the subterfuge. They never knew when a revenuer agent might be listening in on the line. The revenue office liked to get their pound of flesh and didn't always use legal means to get their due. The nationwide ban on alcohol consumption and manufacture meant anyone caught paid hefty fines, legal fees, and usually bribes to stay out of jail.

Didn't help the hot and steamy images from filling Maxine's head though. Beau came back into the parlor and picked up a fan, waving it in front of her face.

He let out a low whistle. "Easy there, Maxie, or the booze will combust if you get too close."

Considering her production took place in the basement two buildings over, she didn't find his observation amusing.

But she ignored his teasing. Beau got away with things no one else did, like calling her Maxie. He came up with the idea of using her grandmother's recipe to supply the lower half of the state with moonshine.

She fronted the real moneymaker by turning the house, left by her not-so-dearly-departed husband, Ashford Wynne, into a room and board business. She didn't grieve the loss and she definitely never asked Beau if he'd forgotten to fix Ashford's car or if he purposefully left the brakes in terrible condition so Wynne could take his place in hell sooner rather than later.

She didn't care. Beau had her back. He always did, from the moment they'd landed in the same group home at age six. Raised like siblings, they left at sixteen and moved into a low-rent flophouse, making ends meet by running numbers. She dressed as a boy and together they set Beau's reputation on fire by claiming the most bets.

They had a great thing going until Ashford discovered her true identity. He put her to work as a hostess in his nightclub and tried to keep other men away from her.

At twenty, Beau had left for a stint upstate to handle a book maker's numbers. She'd married Ashford, even after Beau warned the smooth-talking racketeer reeked of ill intentions.

Beau snapped his fingers. "Maxie? Geez. Why don't relieve some of that tension with Kestleman?" His tone dropped, keeping the conversation between them.

Maxine quirked an eyebrow. "You know why. Drake is very easy on the eyes, but he's also a strong personality." She squared her shoulders. "I won't be under any man's thumb again." Or behind his fists or trampled by his wingtip shoes.

She's worked too hard to make her way on her terms to let her life and her money fall out of her grasp.

She didn't have to explain. Beau had nailed Ashford's character on the head. When Lamont returned from his sojourn he took one look at her bruises and set Ashford straight. If Wynne physically harmed Maxine again, Beau would make sure Ashford regretted the action. Within a month, her husband tested the boundaries and two weeks later he crashed going around Wylie's Run.

Beau shook his head. "I'm not saying you have to marry the guy. After your ass of a husband, no one would blame you from steering clear of matrimony." He lifted shoulder. "But Kestleman's a different breed, Maxie. He's straight and solid."

She'd love to go with Beau's instincts, but refused to take a chance. "You don't know that for a fact. You don't live with him." A lesson she learned the hard way with Ashford.

One she wouldn't forget.

Beau held up his hands. "Okay. Backing off and shutting up now." He waggled his eyebrows. "But you still need to get laid."

Maxine slugged his shoulder. "I thought you were shutting up now." She pushed him into the kitchen, waving off any more commentary.

She settled down onto the small wingback chair. Beau nailed her dilemma. She needed to blow off steam and wanted to get down and dirty to do it. Drake tempted her, seriously tugging at the demons she'd long thought buried. After her marriage, she withdrew from the seedy underworld of backroom trysts with nameless men.

She missed the powerful high of sexual release, never achieved anything close with Ashford. Every cell in her body screamed Drake Kestleman would be her undoing.

So… she'd stay firmly in supplier mode, thank-you-very-much-Beau.

Longer than usual preview. I'm hoping the scene flows as well for readers as it does in my head.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye