Sunday Snippet: Urban Grit

So… The Last Ship has a beyond awesome two-hour season premiere. I'm so happy this show is back on my television! I love where the characters are and I've added Meylan to my "do not kill" list. The showrunners better be listening or they're paying my bar tab at the end of the season. Just saying.

I'm making headway on my catch-up viewing of Killjoys, Dark Matter, and Wynonna Earp. Totally love where all three shows are going. Killjoys just makes me happy with the twisty turns it takes when I'm least expecting them. I didn't know if I'd be on board with the whole Aneela shtick, but I really like the small revelations we get here and there. Dark Matter can be uber confusing sometimes, but I like the overall arc of where things end up. Wynonna Earp blows my mind. The cast interactions are amazing and I'm so happy another season will be on tap.

Catching up on Teen Wolf and, yeah, Gerard being back makes things very interesting. I love the element of fear being almost personified. Looking forward to where everything ends up.

In casting news, one of my favorite actresses signed on to be a villain on The Flash. Looking forward to seeing what Katee brings to the table as a baddie.

That's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Urban Grit, a novella that got a start with a request to write something in subway tunnels. I liked the idea and we'll see if I can work those tunnels into the story.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Keeley Fitz and Holt Matterworth produce and star in the reality docu-style web drama, Urban Grit. They shamelessly drag their friends along on their adventures where they try to bust and debunk urban myths… except they quickly learn most legends all have a basis in truth.

And a preview snippet…

Keeley Fitz adjusted the camera angle and handed the device to her friend Joanie Carson. "Get some shots of the furniture and décor. This stuff looks like it's straight out of Victorian England." Some of the items might fetch a nice price at auction, even if they weren't true antiques.

Holt Matterworth, Keeley's partner in everything, shook his head. "Keels, we talked about this. No one cares what the interior of the haunted house looks like." He nudged the fourth occupant of the room with his shoulder. "Back me up on this, Dean."

Dean Wallander shrugged. "Considering we're in the middle of the city and this old place looks like it's never seen an upgrade or reno, I'm kind of with Keeley." He shot Holt an apologetic glance. "Can't hurt to showcase the creepy ambiance."

Holt sighed. "Fine. Keeley, while you and Joanie are getting atmosphere shots, Dean and I will actually try to find whatever is supposedly haunting this place." He picked up a second camera and started for the foyer.

Keeley motioned for Joanie to continue filming then followed the guys. "Holt, hold up a moment." She grabbed his arm and tugged him around to face her. "For luck." She bounced up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips over his.

He grinned and hauled her close. "You can do better than that." His head lowered and he slanted his mouth over hers, his tongue sweeping inside to duel with hers.

Keeley melted against him, fisting her hands in his shirt. Holt might get a little cranky when shoots didn't go his way, but he never failed to respond when she tried to make amends. Their chemistry made their web series, Urban Grit, incredibly popular.

Dean cleared his throat. "Hello? Trying to get footage for your next episode. You don't see Joanie and me making out while we're trying to work."

Holt lifted his head and shot Dean a sideways glance. "Perks of being the producer instead of a lowly employee." His mouth caught Keeley's in a quick, hard kiss.

Joanie snorted. "Employees get paid. Friends only go along for the ride."

Keeley laughed. "Only the best of friends, which you and Dean are." She stepped away from Holt. "Go, you two. We won't be long." She swept an arm out. "Seriously, we can't pass up the opportunity to catalog the vintage style here." Crossing over to Joanie, she waved at the man when they exited the room.

Joanie shook her head. "You know I'm not serious about the being paid thing, right?" She panned the room, taking sweeping shots of the walls.

Keeley moved the limited light they had, shining it on the fireplace. "I know. But with sponsorship growing and the new advertising packages, don't be surprised if you and Dean get a big bonus around the holidays." A bright sheen caught her attention and she moved closer to the mantel with the light. "You're both popular with our viewers so, who knows, maybe we can convince you guys to take on a bigger role than being tagalongs." The source of the almost ethereal shine turned out to be an ornate sconce flanking one side of the painted brick chimney.

The taper candle tilted at an angle and the holder listed to one side.

Joanie moved up behind Keeley, pointing the camera at the fireplace. "Wow, that's gorgeous." She used her free hand to straighten the candleholder. "Such intricate detailing and scrollwork. I haven't seen—" Joanie gasped. "Ouch! Damn, that hurt." She shook her hand then brought her finger to her mouth. "Ugh. I cut myself on one of the leaves." Several beads of blood welled on her skin.

Keeley grabbed Joanie's palm, getting a look at the injury. "Let's get this cleaned up. I have a bottle of water in the camera bag. We should at least flush the area and put some antibiotic ointment and a band-aid on it." She dragged Joanie to the equipment bundle and fished around to find the needed items.

Joanie turned the camera off. "I'm such a klutz. I know better than to start messing with furniture."

They had a close call last year when a chandelier nearly fell on top of them when they moved a dust-cover clad sofa.

Keeley chuckled. "This is minor. At least we're not sweeping up glass and paying for damages." She checked the pinprick wounds. "Looks like the bleeding stopped. Let me get a band-aid." After applying ointment, she wound the sheer strip over the injured spot.

Joanie wiggled her finger. "All better. Except for the throbbing. Why do such small boo-boos hurt so bad?" She grabbed the camera again and turned it back on.

Keeley shrugged. "Getting hurt in the line of non-paid duty always stings." She started for the foyer. "Let's find the guys and see if we can stay out of trouble."

Joanie laughed and followed behind.

Neither woman noticed the eerie reddish-orange glow that rippled around the sconce then burst into form before landing on the floor in front of the fireplace.

I like how this scene came together and it might serve as the opening to the book.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Unforeseen Consequences

I'm so excited for The Last Ship season premiere tonight! I can't wait to see where my favorite sailors are and what they're doing.

I'm an episode behind on Teen Wolf, but should be caught up later tonight or tomorrow.

Got another episode or two in of Dark Matter and Killjoys. Still need to catch up on Wynonna Earp. I'm truly loving Killjoys this season. I'm totally wondering if any additional traitors will be revealed. New nerd is on my super watch list. Just saying.

Hoping to start The Defenders this week. So far, I'm reading positive reviews… not that I wouldn't watch if they all tanked the show. I like too many of the characters to not see what they're up to.

I might have to break down and watch Midnight Texas, but it'll be on Demand. I have such a negative hate on for NBC as a network… which truly sucks because they own one of my favorite channels. <sigh>

That's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Unforeseen Consequences, a novella based on the story prompt of writing the consequences of a lost bet. I took the premise and added a little twist, which I'm enjoying a lot.

Here's the mini-blurb:

In the School for the Extraordinarily Gifted, Stella Stubbs and Dak Satterfield hold the record for the most challenges won. As instructors, they no longer join in on the fun, but both enjoy watching their students try to break their top scores—until a dangerous element is introduced and they discover their last wager won had unforeseen consequences.

And a preview snippet…

Dak Satterfield hit just the right spot.

Stella Stubbs arched her back, letting out a long moan. "Don't stop, Dak. Don't stop." She writhed beneath him, edging closer to a shattering release.

Dak grasped her hips, using short, rapid strokes to push her over the brink. "Come for me, Stella. I'm right there with you." He withdrew almost all the way then drove deep, flexing his ass.

She gasped and shuddered, the orgasm rippling through her. Dak thrust forward again and held her flush against his groin when he came. His fingers dug into her skin, sparking aftershocks of pleasure along her nerve endings.

He collapsed, twisted to the side, and hauled her close. "Great sex is the best way to start the day." His lips ghosted over her shoulder.

Stella grinned. "Especially when we're heading into the most taxing semester of the school year." Their students would be testing their newfound magical ability.

Dak groaned. "Ugh. You had to remind me." He slid from the bed, stretching his arms over his head.

Stella admired the view. His lean body sexier than ever. After almost ten years together, she'd noticed the gradual change from handsome youth to hard-bodied man. She'd never regret sharing the progression with him.

He grabbed her hand, tugging her from the warm haven of the sheets and comforter. "Come on. Shower time." His palm cupped her ass on the way to the bathroom.

Stella laughed. "Down boy. We don't have time for round two this morning." Twisting the knob, she adjusted the temperature of the spray.

Dak stepped under the still cold water. "Then I suggest you don't make any plans for tonight. I'll be keeping you very busy." He pulled her into the stall and handed her the shower gel and made room for her under the now steamy mist.

They finished quickly and dried off before wandering back to the bedroom to dress for class.

Stella chose loose, casual pants and a flowing shirt. "You know, even though it's going to be insane, I'm really looking forward to class today." She saved some time by drying her hair with a quick incantation.

Dak paused the buttoning of his usual pair of dungarees to flash a grin. "I know. I bitch and complain, but we've got a terrific group of novices. I don't think any of them will be bowing out." A rare occurrence.

Stella put her hair on top of her head, her gaze on Dak while he shrugged into a sinfully tight t-shirt. "I agree. In fact, I'm going to stop by Phelps's office and get that on the record." Every year, the teaching staff started a pool with their predictions for the upcoming graduating class.

Dak quirked a brow. "You think he'll continue the tradition?"

Wilson Phelps, a former classmate, arrived mid-semester, taking over the role of headmaster after the previous one retired to go on sabbatical. The timing proved to be chaotic, but they'd managed to keep to their normal schedule.

Stella cocked her head to one side. "He's a former student, hell, a former classmate. Why wouldn't he hold to the status quo?" If memory served, Phelps jumped into any and all pools, wagers, and questionable activities when he attended the academy.

Dak shrugged. "He always worked angles no one else even considered. And don't forget he lost to us in the last competition. He might hold a grudge." He finished getting his shoes on and moved to stand behind her.

Stella met his gaze in the mirror. "For ten years? Over nothing more than bragging rights?" Their competitive antics didn't factor in their final grade then and didn't now.

Dak turned her to face him. "Maybe I'm overthinking things. You know I never liked Phelps. But he's our new boss and I haven't had any concerns since he took over." He caught her lips in a quick, hard kiss. "I'll get the class warmed up. See you in a few."

She nodded. "I won't be long." Especially if Wilson decided to make some sweeping changes no one expected.

Stella and Dak definitely have some fresh challenges they'll have to face and Wilson will play an interesting role in how things happen.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Underbelly

Wow. I so look forward to my Sunday posts, mainly because the crazy that is the real world makes discussing fictional television shows and books a nice, lovely interlude.

Teen Wolf followed up with a terrific episode. I literally laughed for a good, long while during Stiles's FBI scene. The return of Old Man Crazypants didn't disappoint either. Just saying.

Had a seriously busy week playing taxi driver for the kids. Didn't get to catch up on anymore Killjoys or Dark Matter. I have to throw Wynonna Earp in there, too.

Now that the end of Orphan Black happened, I'll be adding that show to my queue to binge watch the entire final season. Can't wait!

The Last Ship premieres next week!! Really looking forward to having my favorites back on the screen. And crossing my fingers that I don't lose my super-secret top few this season. Won't be holding my breath on that one. LOL

That's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Underbelly, a novella that got a writing community prompt to write a noir detective story. I love the feel of a good noir and couldn't wait to get started with my own little twist on the genre.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Jarrod Steele is a private investigator who deals with the weird and the unknown and can find anything his clients want. His super-efficient assistant, Maylin Rose, along with her unique skill set, makes sure of it.

And a preview snippet…

Maylin Rose straddled her partner's lap, doing her best to distract him from work. "Come on, Jarrod. We've been here half the day already." She worked the top two buttons of his shirt loose.

Jarrod Steele had a fantastic chest and she enjoyed ogling the broad expanse whenever she could.

Jarrod did his best impression of a stern glare. "Maylin, I need to finish this report so we can bill our very satisfied client." He leaned around her, writing another quick sentence.

Maylin tsked. "Considering they're happy because of me, I think I deserve a pre-lunch break in the form of a satisfying romp." She'd managed to reacquire a stack of very revealing photos showing a young starlet in the throes of passion with her costar.

Maylin's ability to get in and out of secure locations barely warranted mention. But the profuse thanks and promise of a quick payday definitely kept their two-person firm in demand. Of course, everyone thought Jarrod ran the show, which suited Maylin just fine. She preferred to stay in the background, acting as a somewhat secret weapon in Jarrod's arsenal. He'd made her a full partner before they got personally involved, leaving no doubt about his confidence in bringing her on board.

She'd finally found a man who didn't hold her past against her and appreciated the unique skill set she brought with her. Jarrod's exceptional connections and various underbelly contacts also gave them an edge. He kept tabs on anything and everything paranormal and supernatural related. Their combined resources got them through doors no one else could enter. Maylin planned to make sure they stayed on top of the private investigations heap.

But she also liked to keep Jarrod from taking life too seriously. Hence the desire for some sexy fun in the office. She leaned forward, ready to flick her tongue against his ear when the phone rang.

She reached behind her and grabbed the handset. "Jarrod Steele Enterprises. We'll find whatever you're looking for." She used her super sultry secretary voice—the one Jarrod said oozed sex and sin and sensual promise.

And never failed to make his cock spring to life… sort of like now.

Maylin continued the conversation with a prospective new client, her lips curving into a smile when Jarrod finished the report with a flourish. By the time she hung up the phone, he'd closed the file and set it aside.

Maylin shifted backwards and made a move to slide off Jarrod's lap.

He snagged her hips. "Oh, no. Where do you think you're going?" His hands skimmed along her sides.

She gave him a saucy smirk and stood up. "New client coming in. Thought I'd get everything ready for him." Which usually meant sitting at the desk while she faked typing up files.

Jarrod stood up, crowding into her personal space. "Where's he coming from?" He flicked the first two buttons of her blouse open.

Maylin suppressed a shudder of hot desire. "Murphy Towers over on Larchmont." She didn't object when Jarrod finished undoing her shirt and tugged the fabric from her skirt.

He grabbed her hips and spun her around to face the desk. "It'll take him at least thirty minutes to get across town." His warm breath fanned against her ear. "Plenty of time to make you scream my name before he gets here." He inched her skirt up over her ass and eased her panties down before slipping his hand between her thighs.

Maylin moaned low in her throat. "Mmm. You really kike my sex kitten voice, don't you?" The sound of his pants dropping provided a definitely clue.

Jarrod grasped her hips, pulling her flush against his groin. "You know I do." He maneuvered his thick erection lower, the tip nudging up to her wet and ready core. "And someone mentioned a need for a satisfying romp not too long ago." His hands palmed her breasts over the lacy fabric of her bra.

Maylin braced her forearms on the desk and pushed back, enveloping the first few inches of his hard shaft. "Yes, someone did. But I don't recall anything about screaming your name."

Jarrod thrust forward, going balls deep. "Oh, it'll happen. You can trust me on that one."

True to his word, fifteen minutes later, Maylin shouted him name with her head thrown back in ecstasy.

I'm thoroughly enjoying the chemistry between Maylin and Jarrod. This will be a treat to finish.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Raid at Midnight

Hello August! So many things going on this month. School starts for my one and only daughter and one and only student this year. She's involved in the music and athletic departments and the fall tends to be very busy. She's already started her golf season and band practice started also. She had a busy week with band camp from 8 to 3 and then golf qualifying from 4 to 6. She's got the number three spot right now and is happy being there. They have almost twice the amount of girls this year and everyone is excited about growing the sport.

Teen Wolf's premiere didn't disappoint. I'm excited to see how everything wraps up. I loved the surprises and can't wait for more. Keep them coming!

Got a few more episodes of Killjoys in and really like how the season is shaping up. Here's hoping there's a renewal in the future.

I'm also almost caught up on Dark Matter. I continue to enjoy the interactions and character arcs.

Need to catch the last two episodes of Wynonna Earp and I hope I can get that done this week.

Seeing more promo for The Last Ship… looking forward to the premiere in two weeks!!

That's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Under the Blackhawk Banner, a novella based on a prompt to write an alternative timeline or universe for WWII.

Here's the mini-blurb:

In a battle-torn land, the saving grace is the Blackhawk Banner. Any who fly the flag are protected by the elite group of pilots and their crew who pull off amazing feats of victory. Verity Jones, the lone female in the group, is about to become one of their secret weapons, and Emory Cavendish will make it happen, over the protests of damned near everyone.

And a preview snippet…

Verity Jones strode through the line of men into the huge manor—a former castle—and followed the indicator signs to the company commander's office. She ignored the gaping mouths and widened eyes, very used to the stir she caused. The Blackhawk Banner flew proudly from the parapet, meaning she belonged as much as the next person.

Even if I am a female.

She stopped outside the closed door of Colonel Earl Whitcomb, the head of the civilian base, and rapped sharply on the jamb.

"Enter!"

She took a deep breath, twisted the knob, and walked into the office.

The colonel sat behind his desk and another man occupied the chair facing him. Dark hair, longer than standard military, brushed his shirt collar. He angled his head around and met Verity's gaze with his amber one. He rose slightly and nodded then settled back into the seat. She blinked once then shifted her focus to Whitcomb.

His brows knit and he rose from his seat. "Who the hell are you and how did you get access to my base?" He made a move to come around the desk.

Verity stared straight ahead, coming to attention. "VJ Jones, specialist, reporting for duty." The Blackhawks utilized a rank structure similar to the military even though they operated as a civilian outfit.

Whitcomb's eyes narrowed. "You're a woman." He held out a hand. "Orders. Let me have them."

Verity slid them from her pocket and slapped the papers into his palm. He shook the pages open and scanned the contents, grumbling under his breath. When he finished, he tossed the documents on his desk and folded his arms over his chest.

Verity remained silent, bracing for the usual response.

Whitcomb didn't disappoint. "Don't get too comfortable, Jones. You, no doubt, lied on your application to the Blackhawk program, or deliberately tried to mislead the home office by using your initials instead of your name. Women are not allowed to serve in our elite corps." He moved again, putting the wide expanse of oak between them. "I won't let you remain and become a distraction to the men." His face turned a mottled shade of crimson.

Verity itched to smack the man, but calmly met his gaze. "Sir, you might want to review the signatures on the orders and the addendum they included." She kept her tone even and devoid of the frustration coursing through her.

Whitcomb snatched the papers again and flipped to the final one. His lips thinned to a harsh line and his nostrils flared when he inhaled. Anger tinged with defeat entered his gaze.

He glanced at the man still seated across from him. "Cavendish, apparently the president and the prime minister are well aware they've sent a female to work with us. Find her a place to stay—well away from my men—and brief her on our upcoming missions." He pinned Verity with a nasty glare. "If you cause any trouble or start any fights between my pilots, I don't care whose signatures are present on your orders. I'll make sure you're transferred to a place better suited for your kind." He waved a hand toward her in disgust.

My kind? Meaning a woman with boobs and hips?

Verity bit back the terse response. "I look forward to keeping your planes in the air, Sir. I can start immediately."

Whitcomb shuddered. "That's not necessary. Cavendish will brief you, sort out quarters for you, then, if there's time, he can show you the hangar. But only if it doesn't keep him from his other duties. We're a very busy base, specialist." He nearly spat the title at her.

She shot a quick glance in Cavendish's direction. He'd risen and waited patiently for the colonel's dismissal. Whitcomb shook his head and motioned for them to leave.

Verity kept her anger in check and preceded Cavendish out of the office. When he pulled the door closed, she turned and sized him up. He didn't wear the mantle of rage like Whitcomb. In fact, he appeared relaxed and at ease. Might she have a potential ally?

She thrust her hand forward. "We haven't been properly introduced. VJ Jones."

He grasped her palm. "The colonel is short on pleasantries, especially when his world tilts on its axis. Emory Cavendish, captain of the air guard." His firm shake didn't linger, which she appreciated.

But his words caught her off guard. "Captain of the air guard? Why on earth are you acting as my tour guide then?" Whitcomb couldn't be more of an ass.

Emory gave her a half-smile. "Being a civilian operation, we wear a lot of hats around here." He started forward, toward the main hall of the estate.

Verity followed then fell into step beside him. "Meaning you're the colonel's go-to guy when he doesn't want to deal with something distasteful?" Namely her.

Emory huffed out a laugh. "You catch on very quickly, Specialist Jones." He paused a moment. "It won't be easy, but you'll fit in just fine around here." He took a set of keys from his pocket and slid one into a locked door. "Let's get started with some quarters. How about I brief you on the way?"

Verity gave a nod. "Sounds efficient. Please, lead on." Stepping into a darkened wing, she squared her shoulders and took the first steps toward her new place in life.

I'm having a terrific time writing this one. The sages are already feeding me ideas for more books so hopefully Emory and Verity's story will continue.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye