Sunday Snippet: Reflections

Welcome to the last post of 2019. I hope everyone had a terrific holiday or the best they could have given the trash fire that has turned into a raging wildfire of possible corruption and back channel maneuvering in the RWA. I'm not a member of the organization but I stand with marginalized authors. Period. Full stop.

I believe I made it through the mild case of the flu. I'm still a little stuffed up and achy, but otherwise doing well. I caught some decent television time also.

I watched an episode of Riverdale and thoroughly enjoyed it. Once again, the play on theme of the episode title worked so well. I'm sad because it's almost the end of the season and that means no more Luke Perry soon.

I finished Dirty Sexy Saint and ended up really liking it. I also caught the new Quickie, The Naughty List and loved that also.

Caught another episode of Murdoch Mysteries and enjoyed the different approach. The episode played out almost like a dinner theater murder mystery and I'm totally there for that.

Frankie Drake also had a different style of episode and I loved it. The cold opening had me wondering for a few moments if we'd lost a major cast member. Well done.

Watched an episode of Midsomer Murders and, weirdly, it reminded me of Doctor Who if only because two of the actresses in this episode guest-starred on the series. I've been watching some of the marathon leading up to the New Year's premiere of the new season.

I'm finishing out the week with a full arc of Sapphire and Steel. I started season three and since there's only one assignment for this season, I'll have it finished up later today.

And that's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Reflections, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt for a special call themed romance.

Here's the mini-blurb:

The ornate mirror in her grandmother's house creeps Everley Bonice out. When she arrives to settle her grandmother's estate, the mirror depicts erotic images of Everley with a man who seems familiar but one Everley can't place. When Vannes Sullivan shows up to deliver groceries to the house, Everley decides to discover the secrets of the mirror-scenes she keeps seeing, because Vannes is the man in the reflection.

And a preview snippet…

Everley Bonice entered her grandmother's—no, it belongs to me now—house and tossed her keys on the delicate console table by the door. She unwound her scarf and hung it on the coat tree then followed with her peacoat.

Heaving a sigh, she glanced around the foyer. "Where do I start, Gram?" As if the one constant in Everley's life could answer.

Although, knowing her grandmother, a response from the great beyond might not be impossible.

Everley wandered through the house, sifting through memories of good times. Better ones than the last five years where living in the city proved difficult.

She entered the room she called hers from the age of six. "Well… I won't be sleeping in here." Every available surface had clothing bags and storage bins covering them.

At least Emma made an attempt to start sorting through her vintage wardrobe and antiques. Now Everley would finish the project and decide if she wanted to keep the grand old Victorian home or sell it to a family that would love and care for it.

Gently shutting the door, Everley crossed over to her grandmother's former room and peeked inside. The room hadn't changed in close to twenty years, as long as Everley could remember. Beautifully stained and polished wood furniture gleamed in the sunny space. And, of course, in the far corner stood the only thing Everley didn't like.

Emma's heirloom mirror—the one that always freaked Everley out.

The ornate, standing frame seemed to whisper in Everley's mind in muted tones she couldn't make out. Emma used to laugh and shake her head whenever Everley threw whatever she had handy over the reflective surface. A coat, a throw, Emma's bathrobe, it didn't matter as long as it covered the mirror that gave Everley the heebie-jeebies.

Emma always rolled her eyes. "Someday that mirror will belong to you and you'll understand its mysteries."

Everley always shuddered at the thought. But her grandmother extracted a promise that Everley would keep it for future generations. Like there would be any after Everley.

She grimaced. "Highly unlikely. I have exactly zero plans to have offspring." She'd have to adopt because she'd sworn off any kind of long-term relationship.

Glancing up, she gasped. "What the ever-loving hell is going on?"

In the mirror's reflection, an intimate scene unfolded between a man with raven-colored hair and a woman. Everley wanted to look away, but the beautiful symmetry of the male's movements kept her gaze glued to the sight. The strong, powerful thrusts he used, the flex and release of the muscles in his thighs and buttocks were gorgeous. The woman's back arched off the bed and her mouth opened on a silent shout of pleasure.

Everley fanned her face. "Goodness. Definitely didn't expect anything X-rated today." She couldn't tear her gaze away from the couple. The man, when he came, threw his head back and Everley bit back a startled yelp… because the woman enjoying the prime specimen of manhood happened to be her.

This story is coming together nicely. I love the challenge of writing to a specific idea and through a mirror darkly is fun to explore.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Reflection of a Kiss

So, I'm pretty much caught up on the holiday shopping and just in time. We adopted another doggo this week and I ended up with a mild case of the flu. So far, a multi-symptom medication is taking care of the flu and the puppy is chewing her way through anything she can sink her teeth into. We're working on the little shredder to help break her of tearing into everything.

Slow week for television, but I did watch a Classic Who arc. I think I have one left of season nine.

Caught two more episodes of Gargoyles. I had a great conversation with my oldest about the shows we watched together when he was little. Some great memories shared of how much fun we had.

Started Mr. 365, a Passionflix original, but stopped it about halfway through because I'm behind on everything and I wanted to catch Dirty Sexy Saint, the holiday movie for this year. I'll finish up Mr. 365 soon.

I'm in the middle of Dirty Sexy Saint and, so far, love it. I'm so glad I got a founding member's subscription to Passionflix.

That's pretty much it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Reflection of a Kiss, a sexy short that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Pryce Baker and Fisk Darrison, two hunters in the middle of a supernatural war, have many different types of kisses. It's not easy maintaining a relationship in the middle of enemy territory, but they take the time to reflect on what they have and make it work.

And a preview snippet…

Fisk grinned. "Oh, I plan to." He worked his mouth from her breasts down over her stomach and then lower.

He shifted and settled between her legs, hooking her knees over his shoulders. He grasped her hips then leaned forward to trail his tongue between her folds. Pryce rewarded him with a low moan.

Fisk loved the sound, his dick twitching in response. He could wait—the desire to push Pryce over the edge took precedence over his needs. For too long, they'd been caught in an endless cycle of patrol, dispatch, regroup, and start again. Tonight's elimination of the ravaging hell beasts bought some time.

Finally.

To relax. Unwind. Rejuvenate. And reflect.

He'd missed this—stolen moments belonging only to them. He planned to savor Pryce while he had the chance.

Flicking his tongue over her clit, he then sucked it lightly between his lips. Pryce gasped and shuddered. He inserted two fingers inside her hot core and fluttered them against her g-spot. She bucked against his hand, her head thrashing on the pillow. The tight grip on his fingers when she came completely turned him on. Only he did this to her—pushing her into pleasure, giving her release.

When she relaxed into bliss, he worked his way back up her body, trailing open-mouthed kisses over her skin. Pryce surprised him with a hand planted on his chest.

He quirked an eyebrow but grinned when she nudged him backward onto the mattress. Straddling his thighs, she scooched downward and gripped his dick. "My turn for some fun…"

Fisk closed his eyes, anticipation filling his mind and his cock.

One of my favorite things when writing is to find the bare essence of a moment and create a scene. This story is challenging me to search for those small pieces of heaven.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Red-Eyed Monster

There's nothing quite like hitting the third week of December and realizing less than half my holiday shopping is complete. I need about five more hours each day to get everything finished up. Something tells me I'm not going to see that extra time.

Had a decent week of television viewing. Caught an episode of Riverdale and, wow, I'm seriously impressed with how the relationship with Betty and Alice is being portrayed. I'm on the fence with the Hal stuff. Was completely thrilled I didn't have any Hiram to deal with and loved the father / son stuff between FP and Jughead and Archie and Fred. It's so bittersweet to watch Luke Perry's scenes.

Caught another arc of Sapphire and Steel. I should be getting ready to start the third season next week.

Watched an episode of Murdoch Mysteries. Really not sure what to make of the neighbor interaction. My gut says the wife is probably some type of murderer. We'll see if I'm proven right. I have a vague idea of who I think she'll end up taking out if she is.

Also watched an episode of Frankie Drake Mysteries. Enjoyed seeing a family member added to the fold. Loved Nora's mama bear protection instincts.

Also caught another episode of Midsomer Murders. Very happy this has another season coming up.

That's pretty much it for television this week. I also dived deep into the holiday music on a couple of days. Tonight's post is from Red-Eyed Monster, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Psyche Hood and Errol Winkham are best friends, growing up together in the enchanted realm. A sinister darkness and red-eyed metal monster is moving in and Psyche drags Errol out to pick up the trail, little knowing she's playing right into the evil wizard's plan. He wants the red-eyed monster to rain fire down on Errol so Psyche will be alone and his for the taking.

And a preview snippet…

Psyche stood outside the door of her father's house. "Here goes nothing." Twisting the knob, she entered the foyer and waved his ever-present butler and best friend aside. "He'll be expecting me, Smithy. No need to make an announcement." She didn't wait to get a response from the man she'd known since the age of two.

She definitely didn't want an audience for the argument she'd no doubt have with her dad.

Padrick Hood sat behind the large desk in his study, poring over a map. His dark hair had rows where his fingers had combed through the strands and his red pencil made three quick circles on the plotted page before him. He heaved a sigh that sounded older than his forty-six years.

Padrick didn't glance up when she took her usual spot across from him. "The destruction is even worse after last night. Why haven't we caught the red-eyed beast yet?" He finally looked up, a bit of accusation in his gaze.

Psyche didn't rise to the bait. "Because you don't want more than two people out there looking for it." And one of those two happened to be her.

Padrick tossed the pencil on the paper. "You know why I don't. I'm not going to put anyone at risk when something fueled by dark magick is roaming our glade." His fingers drummed frustration on the desk.

Psyche put her hands on the surface, covering the map. "Then let me do what needs to be done." She braced for the explosive response.

Padrick shot to his feet and got in her face. "No. I will not have you mucking about in your mother's books and journals." He slammed a hand down. "You're better than that and shouldn't need to delve into using the dark side of magick to catch this thing." His nostrils flared and his voice boomed.

Psyche barely refrained from rolling her eyes. "Why do you always assume I want to use dark magick? I only need to get a handle on how it works, not wield the power." His utter lack of understanding pissed her off.

Padrick backed away and paced the floor behind his desk. "You don't need to be anywhere near your mother's history." His tone held accusation.

Beyond tired of getting lumped into a category she didn't deserve, Psyche lifted her chin. "You know what, Dad? It's not my fault you got all hot and bothered over a dark arts mistress and couldn't keep it in your pants. The fact that I'm the result of dark and light coming together is something you won't let me forget and the one time I tried to find answers about my mom you flipped your shit and locked me down with an enhancement that won't let me practice anything other than light magick. What exactly are you afraid of here?" Did he really want the beast caught or not?

Padrick stopped and faced her. "I'm afraid of losing you the way I lost her." His eyes filled with ragged pain. "She couldn't turn away from the dark, Psy. She tried but couldn't resist the temptation. I won't let you go down the same path." He came around the desk and stood at her side. "You have to understand it would kill me to see you succumb like she did." His hand grasped her shoulder in a fatherly squeeze.

Dammit. She did get it. But she also hated the low-level distrust her dad held for her at all times. She made one mistake—over a decade ago at age sixteen—and he couldn't let it go.

She'd given her idea her best shot. Now they had to figure out how to proceed with finding and containing the red-eyed monstrosity wreaking havoc in the glade.

Blowing out a breath, she gave a nod. "I get it, Dad. Let's focus on catching our interloper." She swung the map around and pointed to the center of the village. "I'm thinking we should stake out the—"

Padrick interrupted her. "No, it started in the north quadrant, then moved west the next night. Last night it tore up the south quad. I want you to patrol the east sector tonight."

She sighed. "Don't you think at least one of us should be in the square? That way if the beast returns and doesn't go where we predict, we have a better shot at catching it."

Her father shook his head. "No. Errol needs to be with you. I don't want you two to split up."

She'd rather have Errol Winkham with her at all times, but she also wanted to rid the village of the contraption causing all the problems so she and Errol could get back to doing what they did best… challenging each other in work and play.

Psyche lifted a shoulder. "Fine. Whatever you say, Dad." She backed up and turned to leave.

Padrick softened his stance a little. "If you don't have any luck in the east quad, you can do it your way. As long as you and Errol agree."

Psyche's lips curved. "Not a guarantee but, thanks." She exited the study and nodded to Smithy before leaving the house.

Standing outside, she shook her head. "Okay, that didn't go well, but it could've been worse." She started down the drive to head over to Errol's.

I love this story! One of my favorite tropes is having an established couple go through a personal trial that could end up breaking them apart. This story has that through-line and I'm having so much fun with it.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Red Cap

I wish I could say it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, but it's so not. LOL I'm hoping I can add some holiday cheer to the casa sometime this week. I think I'm going to make 2020 my year to finally purge a ton of stuff we no longer need or use.

Didn't have a great week of television, but did get a few things watched. We got a Disney + account through our wireless carrier so I did start a rewatch of the Gargoyles series. I have so many fond memories of this show when my oldest was little.

I finished the Gilmore Girls marathon and had some pretty intense feels. I watched sporadically when it originally aired, mainly because I had three youngish kiddos at the time. I really love the vibe of this show, even when I wanted to strangle the characters sometimes.

Caught another episode of Midsomer Murders and also realized series twenty isn't the last one. Yay!!

Caught a full story arc of Sapphire and Steel along with a full arc of Classic Who. I'd forgotten how much I truly disliked the Master way back when.

I finished out the week with The Trouble with Mistletoe, a Passionflix original. If you're not a member, consider signing up. I love the service!

That's pretty much it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Red Cap, an urban fairy tale that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Magan Drone, a red-capped tree nymph, is ordered to protect Cass Warrison, an earth sprite tasked with guarding the land from the wolf-shifter clan. Magan isn't thrilled with the duty—she and Cass share a complicated past—but her handy skill with a crossbow can stop an evil prophecy from coming to light. She'll do her job and save the day, but no way will she let Cass back into her life.

And a preview snippet…

Cass jogged down the steps and paused outside his grandfather's study. "I'm going to patrol the woods." There'd been a lot of movement on the fringe and Cass didn't like it one damn bit.

Cecil angled his head around. "Not sure that's a good idea." His gnarled fingers rubbed at his achy knee.

Cass launched a defense. "Because it's me? Too bad, Grandfather. I need to know what's going on out there." He pushed away from the door jamb and entered the room.

Cecil waved a hand. "Of course, I'll always worry when you're out there. But the reason it might not be a good idea is because we're due for rain." He quirked an eyebrow. "Hard to see when it's coming down in buckets."

Cass stopped short, thrown a little by the easy cave-in. "Er… I'll keep it brief then. Mainly want the others to know I'm out and about. If the weather turns, I'll head back in." He waited a beat, expecting more push back from his grandfather.

Cecil lifted his chin. "See that you do. Supposed to be a soggy night." He glanced out the window. "But it's nice out there right now. Try the western path through the glade. Always a nice walk in the late afternoon."

Cass blinked, a little surprised by the advice. "Uh, thanks. I'll do that." He turned and left the study, chalking up the amiable conversation to the fact the old man had starting handing over the reins of leadership.

Not that Cass wanted to rush into being the co-magistrate for the enchanted glade, especially since he'd share the position with Milton Drone. He made his way to the front door and left, heading in the westerly direction his grandfather recommended. Cass had a ton of respect for Milt and thoroughly enjoyed the man's sage wisdom as well as his company. What Cass didn't enjoy…

"His niece, Magan." Or, more to the point, her biting tongue.

Come on, Cass. You know exactly why she all but froths at the mouth when you're around.

Okay, yeah, he did. And he'd deserved her cool disdain after they parted ways almost a decade ago. But… it had been ten years.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "No one holds a grudge like Magan." Even after he apologized numerous times.

She could cut him a break if she wanted to.

Instead, she'd rather slice him to shreds with well-aimed barbs—literally and figuratively.

I love to put a new spin on an old tale. The red riding hood vibe is fun to write, especially with the twist of gender-swapping the characters.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Rapier's Edge

Whew! Welcome to December. I had a crazy week of trying to find a working stove… okay, a stove with a working oven. It's funny. We get a new furnace and literally two days later, our oven takes a flying leap. The good news is, I didn't have to cook for the US Thanksgiving and we found a new stove.

Television took a back seat to both work and shopping for kitchen appliances. I did get the Murdoch Mysteries episode finished up and enjoyed it a lot.

I also caught a binge-watch of the Green Hornet. I love the vibe of that show. The movie vibe? Not so much.

Then… I fell down the Gilmore Girls rabbit hole and got sucked into a marathon that's still going on. I'd forgotten how much I really liked this show… even when the characters sometimes drove me bonkers.

I will say it's a great show to watch when insomnia strikes. And, man, the insomnia has been a right pain in my ass this past week. Actually, it's been longer than the week, but it really kicked in on Monday and hasn't backed off yet.

That's pretty much it for the mundane real-life stuff this week. Tonight's post is from Rapier's Edge, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Wen Buxton, an undercover fae agent, finds Jacob Franklin standing over a dead body. He resists her siren call and refuses to answer questions during her interrogation. Wren has a sneaking suspicion all isn't what it seems with the covert mercenary.

And a preview snippet…

Wen rolled to a stop outside the warehouse, cut the engine, and rolled her window down. Whistling the entry code for the warehouse, she got out, went around back, and opened the hatch. She grabbed her quarry by the shoulders and rolled him out of the truck.

He landed in a heap.

She resisted the urge to kick him in the ribs. "Havish taught me better." But she hoped the guy would have some nasty bruises when he regained consciousness.

Struggling with the dead weight—probably two hundred pounds, easy—her adrenaline kicked in when she pictured Havish's corpse. The surge of angry energy helped her get him inside and strapped into a chair. After testing the restraints, she retrieved a bucket of water and doused him with it.

He sputtered and snapped his head upward, glaring with rage and fire in his eyes.

Wen smiled. "Hello again." She tossed the bucket aside. "It's time for you to answer a few questions." And she only cared about the answer to one.

His gaze moved away from her and stared straight ahead. "I don't think so." He dropped his chin to his shoulder to sop of some of the dripping water.

Wen quirked a brow. He'd soon learn he didn't have a choice. Starting slowly, she walked around him, sinking into the ambiance of the location to find the tonal match.

Sending a whisper out first, she voiced a question. "Who are you?" The tone would compel him to answer.

He continued staring at the wall in front of him.

Wen dug a little deeper and altered her pitch a little. "Why did you kill Havish?" She barely kept from ending on a wobble.

He didn't respond but his gaze darkened and pain flickered across his face.

Or maybe guilt.

She needed to know. His resistance to her siren call frustrated and confounded her. Very few humans or fae had the ability to ignore her. Every minute she wasted on interrogation delayed getting justice for Havish's death.

She tried a new approach. "Look, it only gets worse from here. When I amplify my tone and pitch, the pressure in your head will increase to the more you resist." She walked in front of him and put her face close to his. "Just tell me what I need to know so I can bury my friend." She didn't manage to keep the grief from her voice this time.

His gaze finally snapped to hers and she poised to strike but his rage-filled eyes—narrowed to slits—stopped her. Damn. She didn't have a good handle on the situation… yet she couldn't figure out why.

Something definitely didn't feel right with this guy.

I love this story! Wen and Jacob are complicated but fun to write.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Ramona for the Win

Hard to believe November is almost over. I think the whole furnace fiasco made the month seem a lot shorter than it actually was. That and my workload hasn't decreased… not that I'm complaining.

Had a somewhat slower week with television. I stuck mainly to marathons during the day. I did get some old-school Midsomer Murders watched along with several episodes of JAG.

I watched another episode of Riverdale and, man, Edgar is super creepy. Also, I still dislike Hiram with the passion of a thousand suns. I actually loved the whole shakedown of the gargoyles. The filming of that scene had me glued to the screen.

Other than that, I'm halfway through an episode of Murdoch Mysteries and really hoping they're not going to have Julia and William break up over the doctor who has the hots for her. I'd be very disappointed.

I also had a run of Classic Who episodes on Pluto TV. Nice to have that on in the background when I'm getting the dishes done or folding clothes.

That's pretty much it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Ramona for the Win, a novella set in the Academy of Light universe. It's book three of a four-book series.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Ramona and Melick finally have their personal relationship on solid ground, but the timing couldn't be worse. The academy is under attack and it falls to Ramona to save the day by infiltrating the rival's headquarters by using the downed dragon. She's confident she can get inside and stop the assaults—if Melick will get out of her way.

And a preview snippet…

Ramona flung an arm out in frustration. "You know I have to go, Melick. No one else can control that dragon." Why couldn't he support her?

Melick heaved a sigh. "I'm not suggesting you can't or shouldn't be the one to infiltrate the enemy compound. I'm trying to cover all the angles, including your ass, by pointing out the potential flaws in your plan." He gave her long, level look.

She glanced away first… because, damn, if he didn't have a point.

She always jumped directly into the fire. Okay… more like she flew headfirst after taking a flying leap and three somersaults, but someone in this place had a have a little flair.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she met his gaze again. "Your point is valid. Doesn't mean I have to like it." But she kind of loved him even more for always, always having her back.

Melick snorted. "Didn't think you would. Doesn't mean I'll back off." He planted his hands on his hips, a clear challenge for her to counter.

She didn't disappoint. "Didn't think you would." She relaxed her stance and moved forward, stopping when she reached his space. "Not that I'd ever want you to." She gave him her best flirty smile.

Melick narrowed his eyes. "What do you want, Ramona?" His gaze darkened to the sexy shade she loved.

Ramona trailed a finger from his sternum to his waistband. "If I have to explain, you're hopeless." She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head to one side.

Melick moved quickly, grabbing her hips to pull her flush against him. "You don't have to explain… but you do have to ask nicely." His hands cupped her ass and he pressed his hard length against her.

Ramona suppressed a shudder, loving the raspy sound of his voice. "Melick, can we please get very naked and have scorching hot sex?" Her hips grinded against his groin. "Right now."

Melick's lips curved in a wolfish smile. "Oh, absolutely." He scooped her up and slanted his mouth over hers then marched her into the bedroom.

Sometimes nothing else mattered but the moment at hand. And, right now, everything else faded but Melick's body covering hers.

Ramona and Melick are so much fun to write. This is their third planned story and I love diving into an established relationship to see how the characters react after they've been together for a while.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Rack and Ruin

I have a new furnace! It's shiny and pretty and takes up a lot less space than our old one did. And it's amazing how nice and toasty the house is again. Here's hoping the much-improved energy efficiency pays off too.

My workload is still crazypants. Trying to get prepped for having the equipment going in and out of our house didn't leave me a lot of time the past week. I also have a goal of seriously getting rid of a bunch of stuff that's been collecting in odd, random places for the past two decades.

I did get some television watched, starting with another episode of Midsomer Murders. I think I might have found the show I'll be replacing Midsomer with, but I have made a final decision yet.

Caught a few more episodes of Sapphire and Steel and watched a full arc of Classic Who. Sapphire and Steel is actually pretty interesting with a different style.

Watched a Halloween episode of Murdoch Mysteries, which ended up being pretty fun. I love it when William has to deal with people and things he doesn't feel comfortable with. Pretty cool variation on the theme song also.

Also caught another episode of Frankie Drake Mysteries. I really do like this show and the friendship between Frankie, Trudy, Flo, and Mary. My favorite season is still the first one, but if this is going to be a long-haul show, I'm down with the changes to the style.

That's pretty much it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Rack and Ruin, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Vespa Thorn, a maintenance adept for the Mage Ministry of Defense, is an addictive gambler—whenever, wherever, she'll go all in. Hale Walterson, a special forces soldier has a problem with sex—he can't get enough of it. Vespa wants Hale, but he's the one thing she won't bet on until he challenges her to keep up with him.

And a preview snippet…

Hale Walterson bit back a groan. Just his luck the best tech pulled duty today because she always found a reason to bust his balls. Blowing out a long breath, he strode into the well-ordered workspace.

He placed his wrecked stun-winder in front of Vespa Thorn, the maintenance adept. "This needs fixing." Maybe he'd get lucky and the clipboard she held would keep her attention.

Nope.

She set the board aside and frowned. "Again?" Picking up the device, she began an inspection of the charred defensive weapon.

Hale slowly turned to make his way out of the workshop, hoping like hell the too-pretty-for-maintenance-work mage didn't put the pieces together before he made his escape.

Not his fault his M-MOD unit kept getting called out to break up disruptions.

Vespa growled. "Hold it right there, Walterson." She marched around the counter and brought the stun-winder with her.

Hale paused, a kick of guilt hitting him in the gut. He had abused the weapon, but not on purpose. His last eight-hour shift only had forty-five minutes of downtime. Probably wouldn't matter to her though.

She poked him in the chest. "What did I tell you about not giving the stun-winder enough time to recharge before amping up to a higher setting?" Her face expressed her disgust.

Hale shrugged. "It's a design flaw." He couldn't resist a small dig. "One you should work on fixing." Getting her wound might not be his best move, but the weapon did have too many limitations.

Vespa made a garbled choking sound. "No. It's user error. You abuse the device." She turned and headed for her workstation. "How can a hot guy who has brains and brawn not understand simple instructions?" She placed the stun-winder on the surface of her area and ducked down to get some spare parts.

She thinks I'm hot. Good to know.

Vespa continued with her tirade. "We're supposed to stun our targets as a last resort when spells can't contain them." She removed the burned out charging cartridge and replaced it with a fresh one.

Hale defended his side. "Yeah, well, in the middle of a melee it's not always possible to get an incantation out when fists are flying." A lame excuse, but still true.

Vespa rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Maybe you should use shorter spells so you don't overtax that big brain of yours." She checked the readiness of the stun-winder.

It charged but wouldn't fire. Hale glanced down and braced for impact. The compliment about his intelligence would definitely get called into question now.

She shot him a sideways glance. "What else did you do to my weapon?" The sputtered and died again.

Hale's head whipped up and he quirked an eyebrow. "Your weapon?" He folded his arms over his chest. "Last time I checked my name is on the registration."

Vespa dismantled the stun-winder piece by piece. "If you want your name to stay there, you need to take care of the stunner." She grabbed a cloth and started cleaning the gun.

Hale flushed because she had a point. "I'll apologize for the condition. I've been neglectful about proper cleaning." He'd own being lax… too many distractions that he needed to get under control.

He grabbed another rag and started helping—the least he could do, right?

Especially if he wanted to stay on her good side.

I love Vespa and Hale! They're terrific at what they do but not without faults, which they'll discover about each other soon.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Quiver Full of Arrows

Whew. This week flew right by. We're still waiting on our new furnace, which I should have by my next post. My workload is bananas right now and I didn't get a chance to watch much television due to deadlines. It's also been a busy week with my daughter's golf banquet and awards ceremony and state band competition.

I started a new episode of Blue Heelers but stopped midway through so I need to finish it up this week.

I started out with Midsomer Murders and watched the first episode of the final series. The new coroner is kind of fun and recognizable from a Doctor Who episode, at least that's where I remember her from.

I'm limping through the Riverdale musical episode "Big Fun". I keep stopping the action because I don't want to miss anything. I can honestly say I'm impressed with the way this episode is put together. I love how many of the group is involved in the musical. The only thing I'm not a fan of is how much screen time Eleanor is sucking up. I realize there's a reason for it but she's right up there with Hiram in the characters I love to hate department. I do think I'll have time to finish up later tonight or early tomorrow. Then it's off to the new season of Arrow, where I'll probably weep through every episode.

I caught a few holiday movies in the background during the workday and also ended up catching a bunch of Blue Bloods episodes.

That's pretty much it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Quiver Full of Arrows, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Frey Witter, codename Crossfire, is sent to bring in mercenary for hire, Solaris Polanski, aka, Moon Shadow for a covert mission. He's got one little problem. Solaris answers to no one—and she used to work for the other side.

And a preview snippet…

Solaris lifted her gaze to meet his. "I doubt that." But he had her.

And, dammit, she didn't have the energy to battle with him. She slowly got to her feet. He didn't make a move to help her and, honestly, he earned points for not doing so.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly exhaled. "Okay, who sent you? The name is going to be a deciding factor because ninety percent of the agency goons are assholes and I'd rather take an arrow than work with or for any of them." She'd had too many double crosses to fully trust anyone from the covert government unit.

Frey gave her a long look. Would he shoot her? She couldn't tell and it almost thrilled her to not be able to read him. Given enough time, she'd learn the silent language he spoke, but fat chance she'd the opportunity… unless…

Frey broke his silence. "Norm Coleman." His shoulders tensed while he waited for her response.

Solaris closed her eyes. He'd named the one person she couldn't refuse.

"Aw, fuck. Guess I'll live to see another day." She owed Norm and she always paid her debts.

Even if she'd rather eat glass.

Frey relaxed his stance, which didn't do anything to dissipate the coiled energy coming off his body. The man oozed readiness, no doubt willing and able to leap into action at a second's notice. She didn't want to admire the quality… but she did.

She glanced around for a vehicle. "If we're going, let's go. I'd rather get whatever the hell Norm wants out of the way." She finally spotted the matte black vehicle tucked into the shadows by a row of dumpsters.

Frey gathered his crossbow and started toward the SUV.

Solaris followed but paused. "Look, before we take off, I have one condition." And he probably wouldn't like it.

Frey's finger tightened on the trigger of his crossbow. "And that would be?" He slowly angled around, keeping the weapon primed.

Solaris dropped her bomb. "You're bringing me in so you're going to be my handler. Norm and I need a buffer. I elect you." She'd be lucky if she and Norm got through with their little meeting without blood being shed.

Frey frowned. "Might not be possible. I go where they tell me." He smoothly angled away again.

Following orders. How boring.

But she wouldn't cave on her decision. "It's a stipulation I won't give in on. I come in—without trouble—and you take the role or we end it here." And what a shame that would be.

Frey gave her a level look, holding it for several long moments. "I'll see what I can do. I don't make promises I can't keep."

Solaris made her way to the SUV. "You'll keep this one. Especially if we hit the caverns and retrieve the diamonds." No way would she let that jackpot go uncollected.

Frey shook his head. "That's not the mission." He yanked the back door open and propped his equipment within easy reach.

Solaris gingerly got inside the vehicle. "Trust me when I say Coleman will thank you if you bring them along. His black-op budget can always use a boost." And she would definitely need the leverage.

This story is coming together better than I expected. I love putting characters in a situation where their gut instincts have to make decisions.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Quilt of Fate

Hello, November. The temperature dropped significantly, which kind of sucks for my household since we can't get our new furnace until the middle of next week. That said, with some careful placement, space heaters are doing an excellent job of keeping the house comfortable. As long as we don't dip into single digits, we're golden.

Not a bad week for television. I have a heavy workload right now but still squeezed in some decent viewing.

I started out with Riverdale and, wow, what a great episode. I'm still catching up from last season so this episode featured FP's fiftieth. Cole Sprouse and Skeet Ulrich brought their A games. Also loved the linked montage of Archie's king of the mountain battle with Cheryl and Toni's hot session in the speakeasy. The breakup ended up being a lot more painful than I anticipated but excellent work from the women. Reggie and Veronica's falling out also packed a punch. Reggie is very much growing on me as a character. A few random notes… I absolutely hate the entire farm storyline. I also dislike Hiram with the passion of a thousand suns going supernova. Don't see that changing anytime soon.

I finally got to sit and watch Arrow's season finale. I can honestly say the ugly crying didn't stop after the credits rolled. Everyone acted their collective asses off—Stephen and Emily in particular. Stephen, quite frankly, blew me away. Watching him evolve as Oliver over seven seasons has been a true joy. Seriously… I'm going to miss this show so much. My one main disappointment is not getting any scenes with Oliver and Mia. I'd love to see the two actors interact.

I thoroughly enjoyed Murdoch Mysteries. Nice to see George's family tree expand and with such a terrific character (pun intended). I have so much fun watching this show.

Frankie Drake Mysteries also made me smile. I'm still getting used to the new opening and the somewhat different shift in the show's dynamic. That said, it's growing on me and I like the fabulous foursome and their interactions.

Caught a new story arc on Sapphire and Steel. This show is usually background noise for me when I'm working and I have the horrible feeling I'm really missing a lot. I'm going to make an effort to really focus when I start the third assignment.

Watched the beginning of series nine with Classic Who. The daleks returned to be a huge pain, per usual. I always enjoy episodes that feature them.

Should be catching another episode of Midsomer Murders in the very near future.

That's it for this week. Tonight's post is from Quilt of Fate, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Nadie Fall and Cable Reilly are transported to an alternate reality by the Moerae. Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos have plans for the fated couple who couldn't save their original universe, but can alter the future for their new one.

And a preview snippet…

Nadie crossed the threshold into the cottage. "Okay… we followed you. Now would be a good time to start answering questions." She reached out and tugged Cable inside the small home.

He needed to keep up or the trio would definitely leave him behind.

If the group could be believed… and, oddly, Nadie committed to going with what the women said—way too bizarre not to—they had a purpose for her and Cable.

The middle woman, Lachesis, if Nadie's childhood memories held true, indicated they should sit in the airy room. "Please, relax and get comfortable. You've had a long journey and it's not quite over yet." She waited until Nadie sat and Cable got settled in beside her. "You've seen one possible future, a long time traveling for naught."

The old woman, Atropos, gave a rude snort. "We should let them follow that thread to its completion. Would serve them right for the havoc and chaos we've had to bear witness to." She arranged herself in an ancient rocking chair and waved a hand, palm side down, revealing a huge tapestry spanning the entire living space.

Nadie attempted to school her thoughts, not wanting to give away how much the dig pained her. Cable tensed beside her, but a quick shake of her head had him slowly easing the rigid set of his shoulders.

The young woman, Clotho, smirked. "Easy there, big fella. Attie gets a little cranky when you lot keep making the same mistakes over and over. But she's willing to give rare second chances." She waggled her eyebrows. "Especially when primo specimens like you two come along." Leaning back in her seat, she fanned herself. "I mean think of the beautiful children you two could create." She gathered up a piece of the tapestry and tapped the fabric, bringing a spinning wheel and started creating a long length of thread.

Lachesis tsked. "Clotho, stop jumping ahead. You're going to muddy up the timeline and spawn more questions. We have enough to get these two through as it is." She settled into a wing back chair and conjured a needle between her fingers.

Nadie glanced toward Cable. "Are you following all this? We're apparently the guests of fate itself, which may or may not be a good thing." She hoped for the former because the idea of shadow drifting through any more realms made her heart hurt and her stomach churn.

Cable flicked his gaze her way. "I'd say sitting here with fate is a far sight better than any other alternative at the moment. But you know me… I hardly ever get anything right on the first try."

Clotho stopped spinning and laughed. "Oh… I'm going to enjoy you." She raised an eyebrow and pinned Nadie with her stare. "You'd do well to hang on to this one."

Nadie met her gaze and held it. "I firmly intend to."

I'm having a lot of fun putting my spin on the fate trio. Nadie and Cable are cool characters who face their future with a combination of humor and snark.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: A Quiet Hell

Bleh. I found out we need to get a new furnace because ours is old, horribly inefficient, and very dangerous. Fun news I didn't really need or want. The good news is the new furnace will be super energy efficient and probably save us a buttload of money overall. I definitely won't complain about that.

Had a semi-decent viewing week. I caught two episodes of Midsomer Murders and should be ready to start the final series. I'll be sorry to see Cam go. I liked her.

Caught episodes of Murdoch Mysteries and Frankie Drake Mysteries. I'm kind of on the fence with the new season of Frankie. I liked the first episode but it feels like a very different show. I loved the first season, enjoyed the second season, so I'm hoping I'll fall into a groove with the third. We'll see how it goes.

Finished up the first story arc of Sapphire and Steel. I rather like the show. I'll give the rest of the season a whirl and see how it goes with this one too.

Watched the rest of Classic Who's season eight. I'll be starting season nine this week.

I should also be catching the final episode of Arrow's season seven run. I'm trying to savor every last moment because season eight is the final bow.

That's pretty much it for television this week. Tonight's post is from A Quiet Hell, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Mattox Lang lives in a quiet hell, seeing and sensing paranormal activity. Bruce Wendelson has haunting dreams that linger, but he can never recall the details. Mattox understands Bruce's torment and hopes to ease her own by helping him deal with the nightmares.

And a preview snippet…

Mattox wanted to snatch the offer back as soon as it left her mouth. But she couldn't stand the torment oozing from every channel coming from Bruce. The man didn't have much longer before he went completely mad.

Bruce narrowed his gaze. "You actually see what I'm thinking?" He tilted his head and gave her an overt once-over.

Marie made an attempt to step in. "Uh, Bruce, maybe we should give Mattox a little breathing room." She started for the coffeepot.

Mattox waved off Marie's concern. "It's okay, Marie. I'm good now." She did her best to shield her senses and met Bruce's gaze. "Being crude doesn't change facts, Mr. Wendelson. But I'll give you points for being inventive." Her lips twitched when his mouth dropped open.

His gaze went speculative. "You could be well-versed in reading people. I still don't believe you can see what's in my head." He folded his arms over his chest.

Mattox leaned in closer to him and pitched her voice low. "Sex. Up against the wall. You pulled a switch and had your shoulders braced with me straddling your thighs. That's why you got points for being creative." She sat back and gave him a pointed glance.

His face took a ruddy shade of red. "Damn. Okay. You've made your point." He met her gaze this time. "I'm sorry. That was a total dick move and you didn't deserve it." Slumping back, he sighed. "I'm usually not a complete asshole."

Marie brought two cups of coffee over and handed one to Bruce then held the other up, asking if Mattox wanted it.

She accepted gratefully. "Thanks, Marie. I really am okay now." The shielding helped and the caffeine would clear the cobwebs from passing out.

She still had a running movie playing in her mind, but she filtered out the hopelessness and frustration that held Bruce in their grip. Her heart went out to the man, even while her brain urged caution. Instinctively, her gut warned he had the power to break her.

Marie took a chair and turned it around to face them. "Well, Mattox… I'm right, aren't I? Bruce is special like you." She almost preened.

Mattox gave a brief snort. "I've always thought of it more as a—"

Bruce cut in. "Curse."

Mattox huffed out a laugh. "Exactly." She turned toward Marie. "I don't know what's going on yet… if Mr. Wendelson has an ability or if he's just caught up in something else, but I should be able to help."

Bruce broke in again. "It's Bruce, please. If what I suspect is going to happen happens, Mr. Wendelson is gonna get old real quick." He paused and took a bracing gulp of the coffee. "We'll need to be on a first name basis."

Mattox grinned. "Bruce it is. Obviously, I'm Mattox. I rarely use my last name." She tried to avoid anything to do with her mother. "I do think I can help you, but if you don't want one-on-one sessions, it's going to be difficult."

Bruce closed his eyes and slowly exhaled. "I had a traumatic experience as a kid during therapy. But I'm willing to do just about anything to be able to sleep again." His gaze went dark and stormy.

Man, did she feel his pain on that topic.

Mattox braced herself and put a hand on his arm. "What I do isn't therapy, Bruce. Not in the traditional sense." She stopped a moment then opted to finish with the biggest truth bomb she could. "But you'll have to be comfortable with me sharing your bed for a while."

I like writing Mattox and Bruce. Wounded souls that find their way to each other is one of my favorite things.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye