Sunday Snippet: Mirror of the Mist

February 24, 2019

I'm finally pretty much through the worst of the respiratory nastiness. It's so nice to breathe semi-normal again. It's amazing what a difference it makes to take a deep breath on not end on a coughing spasm.

Not a bad week for television viewing. I finished up Endeavour's second episode of the fifth season. Also caught an episode of Murdoch Mysteries. I rather like where they've put things with Brackenreid.

Finished Luke Cage and, honestly? I liked where the series ended. I'd love to see more and I'm disappointed I won't be able to. The biggest drawback to all the streaming options now is how proprietary they're all becoming. Makes me a little sad.

Watched some Classic Roswell, third episode of the first season, which ended up dovetailing in an interesting way with the second episode of Roswell, New Mexico. Isobel using her powers to freak Maria out in the classic version played against Michael and Isobel using theirs to mess with Liz in the reboot. I'm invested way more than I thought I'd be in the new version. It's moving up the list of shows I don't want to miss.

Caught the Killjoys episode where they rescue the kids and blow up the RAC… and lose one of their own. Seriously, this show grabs me every time I watch. There's so much going on but the emotional beats always shine and don't get lost in the action. I'm looking forward to finishing out season four.

I'm through the halfway mark of Underbelly: Razor. The death toll keeps rising and the "Blood Alley" episode added to it with one of the major players going down. I'm loving the odd little beats of inner betrayal and turmoil, too.

On the sci-fi front, I watched an episode of Painkiller Jane and The Sarah Conner Chronicles. Each episode had a theme of painful past memories. Also caught an episode of Birds of Prey and had forgotten this one. I think I'm at the next to last episode before the series ends.

Finally, I watched the season one ender of Pensacola Wings of Gold. It's a to-be-continued-in-season-two thing and I guess I'll watch the first episode to see how they resolve getting rid of the entire team and starting from scratch. After that… eh… not sure I'll watch more.

That's pretty much it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Mirror of the Mist, a fun twist on a classic fairy tale.

Here's the mini-blurb:

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

And a preview snippet…

Dys entered the office of Thrune's director of operations and stopped short. "No effing way. What the hell have I walked into here?"

Not at all what he expected. Based on the training facility, a stripped down setup with a half dozen sparring centers and functional, yet state-of-the-art, monitoring equipment lining the outer perimeter, Dys didn't foresee the haven of simple sophisticated elegance he'd been led into by the two guard dogs otherwise known as fighters on Thrune's roster.

Or the director to be more stunning than her name suggested. A direct gaze pinned Dys to the spot and carefully schooled features gave nothing away. Maybe he had the wrong person?

Dys quirked an eyebrow. "Lyric Song?" Did she have an assistant gatekeeper kind of thing… like several layers to get through before the big meet-up?

His information didn't cover the small details and his mission had one priority. Get the hell on the roster and dig deep for every secret Thrune Ultimate had.

The vision ignored him, directing a question to thug number one. "Nardo, did I miss a scheduled appointment on my calendar?" Her voice held a pleasant tone, but also mild censure.

Nardo shook his head. "No, Lyric. This is completely unscheduled." He jerked his chin toward Dys. "But he wouldn't be persuaded to leave and you don't like it when we use brute force to remove unwanted applicants from the premises."

Lyric's lips curved. "You're right, I don't. The risk of injury is too great to have my best fighters throwing down to prove a point." Her hands fussed with the items on her desk, rearranging them then putting them back where they were.

Thug number two added his observation. "He demanded an audition and we put him through the regular routine." His voice carried a smirk, which she acknowledged with a raised eyebrow.

If they considered what they put him through the regular routine, Dys would eat his boots. But he'd outlasted the five other guys on the roster. That bought him entrance into the inner sanctum.

Now he had to stay there and get his name added to the ticket.

Lyric shifted her gaze between the two current fighters, but addressed the second one. "Beltane, what's your assessment of… I'm sorry, does the wannabe have a name?" She glanced between the fighters again.

Nardo shuffled behind Dys and nudged him forward. "His name's Dys Hunter. That's all he'd give us."

Lyric got up and came around the desk, propping a hip on the edge.

Beltane moved forward and handed Lyric a clipboard. "He's got skill. It's raw and unchecked, but he should be able to hold his own in the areas I checked off."

Lyric took several long moments and reviewed the assessment. Dys used the opportunity to study the woman who ran the training facility. Not for the first time, Dys wanted to know why Cecelia had such a hard-on for bringing Lyric down. She didn't own the place only acted as the director for the man behind the business.

That said, Dys followed orders and did whatever Cecelia asked of him. Basically, he'd do anything for a taste of her, to bask in her power and swim in a pool of lust with her. The things Cecelia could do with her mouth alone kept Dys's dick in a perpetual hard state.

But… Lyric Song's quiet attractiveness rivaled Cecelia's chiseled beauty. A comparison of contrasts, the women couldn't be more different. Cecelia's diminutive stature made her appearance delicate and ethereal. Lyric had a whole hot, curvaceous thing going on. Killer legs, feet clad in black stilettos, brought her already impressive height close to his. Cecelia demanded attention with barely there, gauzy, and diaphanous clothing that left little to the imagination. Lyric's fitted and tailored attire included a skirt, blouse, and jacket combo that covered all the good bits yet hinted at the glory underneath and encouraged a man to envision unwrapping the delectable body hidden by the pretty packaging. Dys's brain sifted through an X-rated preview before the clearing of Lyric's throat made him rein in the steamy visual.

He met her gaze, keeping his steady and certain. She narrowed her eyes, leaving him with no doubt she'd pretty much guessed where his thoughts had been. He wouldn't apologize, but he would take care to be less obvious in the future.

Lyric straightened and went back behind the desk. "Well, Mr. Hunter, it appears you've passed the preliminary qualifications and look good on paper." She set the clipboard aside and started fussing with the tea service on the cart next to her. "Let's see how you do with a verbal interview over tea." A tray filled with hearty sandwiches appeared from the middle section appeared from an alcove and she set it out on the desk. "Would you care to join me for that or would you like to leave now?"

I'm thoroughly enjoying putting my spin on Snow White. It's fun to twist things a little and see what kind of story will appear.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Mind the Shadows

That raging upper respiratory ick from last week is still going strong. I'll be very happy to see the end of this one. But… it made for a good week of television. And my daughter's seventeenth birthday ended up being pretty great.

I started the second episode of Endeavour's fifth season. I truly love this show and I'm enjoying the guest stars also. Caught another episode of The Sarah Conner Chronicles too. I seriously miss that show.

I went ahead and watched the first episode of Roswell, New Mexico. I'm intrigued and it should be fun to watch the reboot and the classic show at the same time. I hope.

Caught a few episodes of Classic Who this week while catching up on dishes and laundry. Also got to watch another episode of Birds of Prey. It's back on the CW Seed app.

I'm almost done with the first season of Pensacola Wings of Gold. I'll probably watch the first few eps of season two and decide from there if I'm going to continue. Caught another episode of Lexx, too.

Watched Gotham's second episode and, man, this show. It really found its footing and embraced the crazy. I'm going to miss it a lot.

Finished the week out with Strike Back and Chicago Fire. Gracie is fast becoming a favorite of mine. She's an amazing character. Also really great to see some character bonding on Chicago Fire.

That's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Mind the Shadows, a Warlock's Curse novella.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Nadia Iris discovers the terrible truth about her lineage and confronts the man responsible. Her father's dark plan for the future isn't high on her list of things to get done… but reuniting with Falk Ridenour is. Too bad her dad has other ideas for Nadia.

And a preview snippet…

Nadia growled. "I'm not going to dinner, out for coffee, or on any kind of date with Sebastian North." She got up and paced the carpet in front of Boris's desk. "And before you even suggest it, I'm not inviting him over and I refuse to entertain him if you do." She stopped and crossed her arms over her chest. "You can suck great big donkey balls if you think you're going to dictate who I see or spend time with while I'm here." She arched a brow. "I invited Falk for a visit and I'm spending time with him whether you like it or not. Being a raging asshole won't stop me, Boris."

Boris inhaled deeply before expelling the breath he took, probably in an effort to stay calm and not lash out at her. "Did no one ever teach you manners?" He folded his palms on the top of the desk, an exquisite example of cool collectedness.

Nadia huffed out a laugh. "You've met my mom, right?" The woman suffered no one's bullshit.

He gave a nod. "Point taken." Leaning back in his chair, he said nothing else.

A concession? From him? Wow. She found it… almost disappointing after spending days listening to him rant and spew venom toward her. Those tactics she could handle.

She frowned. "It's not fun when you don't growl and snarl at me." Her endless supply of quippy comebacks never failed her when he did.

He sighed. "Is that what you really want?" His eyebrow arched and she shied away from the familiar familial trait.

What do I want? The question kicked. Hard. She wanted Falk. Preferably naked. In a bed, against a wall… hell, she'd go for levitating if it meant having him buried deep, driving the weariness from her mind, body, and soul.

Her dad clapped his hands. "Stop thinking about the whelp. He's not for you." The distaste in his tone hid something deeper and possibly sinister.

When he got up and came around to stand in front of her, Nadia backed up several steps. She didn't care to find out what his deeper agenda might be at the moment. Time to end the conversation.

She leveled her gaze on Boris. "You don't get to dictate who I copulate with. You lost that chance when you dicked my mom, deposited your warlock jizz, then fucked off." She went crude and hard, just to piss him off.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply again. "Must you be so base and repugnant?" His monotone response covered a deep-seated anger.

She quirked her brow again. "Like you were when you were doing my mother? Tell me how I'm not a chip off your block, Dad." She barked out a laugh. "Considering I have your DNA, I'd say it's absolutely necessary to be base and repugnant, not to mention a foretold conclusion I would be." She moved forward. "And don't even think about being an ass about Falk. He's coming and you're going to welcome him with open arms." She waited a beat. "Or I walk." She brushed past the man who sired her and exited the drawing room.

The constant skirmishes with her beloved sperm donor made her nauseous and she couldn't take much more before she broke. And then her dear old man would have her exactly where he wanted her. A place she definitely didn't want to be, because Boris's agenda could only mean nothing good for Nadia.

I love this series so much. The ideas pop when I least expect them to and Nadia loves playing the outsmart-her-dark-overload-wannabe dad game.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Mendacium

Ugh. Another week of crazy back and forth weather. We went from sixty-two degrees on Thursday to twenty-five on Friday. Every time I took the dog out starting on Thursday evening, I added a layer of clothes. And… I now have a raging upper respiratory ick thing. LOL Never fails.

Not a bad week for television. I caught the premiere of Strike Back and loved it. One of my favorite actors is starring this season and I'm very excited to see what he does on the show. I'm also kind of caught between the old style with Stonebridge and Scott and the new style with Wyatt, Mac, and Gracie. The former cast had more time to build the relationship between the leads and I liked how that spread over the four seasons they helmed the series. The new cast feels like they had to skip a lot of the nuance and I kind of miss that. And none of this is to say they don't gel together, because they do.

Also caught an episode of Chicago Fire and ended up being an ugly-crying mess by the end. Benny's sendoff didn't disappoint. I tend to get very emotional over signing off a fallen firefighter. With a retired fire chief dad who's still active with a volunteer department, those things hit home for me.

I'm almost finished with Luke Cage's second and final season. I'm pretty sure I'll be satisfied if Mariah goes down hard. I'd like Luke to have a resolution with his anger issues too and I think he's come a long way. Misty is just awesome no matter what so there's that.

Also caught Classic Roswell on a different app where I can watch single episodes. I'm looking forward to comparing the new reboot with the classic series.

Caught a few episodes of Classic Who this week and the Daleks are back, creating trouble as usual. I love how long this Whovian villain has been around.

Watched Murdoch Mysteries and Midsomer Murders. I love both of these series and how long they've been running.

Penny Dreadful had an interesting episode with Vanessa meeting the cut wife. The icky witch woman annoys me in ways I can't begin to describe. I do love Ethan and Vanessa's interactions so watching the creepy woman be evil is a small price to pay I guess.

Finally finishing up season four of Killjoys and, man, the "It Takes a Pillage" episode rocked on so many levels. Great character development and growth, a family reunion, betrayal, and Zeph being awesome. Can't ask for more than that.

Worked in another episode of Painkiller Jane, one I don't remember watching during the original run of the series. The show makes me nostalgic for La Femme Nikita and Mutant X. I miss the crazy creative style of that era of television.

Also started another episode of Underbelly: Razor. I'm about halfway through the series and continue to enjoy watching life in Australia during the twenties and thirties.

That's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Mendacium, a novella that started with a writing community prompt of write a story that involves a lie.

Here's the mini-blurb:

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

And a preview snippet…

Reave heaved a sigh. "You know what? I was so pissed when I woke up and you were gone. Then I found out you hooked up with Adkins and being pissed turned to silent rage." He got up, crossed the room, and sat next to her.

Kelby didn't hold out much hope. After learning the how much and for how long Pope betrayed her, she didn't really deserve anything from Reave. Gah! If only she'd stuck around that night.

Reave nudged her shoulder. "Stop it. Nobody had a clue Pope was working both sides and profiting from the jobs he sent his teams out on." His arm wrapped around her, hauling her close to his side.

She burrowed in, basking in the comfort of him. "He was a goddamn puppet master." Anger filled her again. "I can't believe how brilliantly he manipulated me." All the blood on her hands belonged to Pope.

She finally had a chance for normal now.

Her head angled upward and she met Reave's gaze. "I've learned a lot since I left you that morning. About myself and what I really need to survive." She needed him even if the idea still made her uneasy.

But why wouldn't it? For so long she'd lived on the edge of everything. Reason, sanity, disaster… no wonder anything resembling quiet and calm freaked her out.

Reave grasped her hand, lacing their fingers together. "I wasn't honest that night when I talked about making a plan to get out." His thumb made circles on her skin.

She looked up again. "Meaning you didn't want to leave?" Surprise warred with disbelief.

He'd been pretty set on getting out while they still had a chance to make a life.

Reave shook his head. "No, I wanted to start planning something, but I didn't want to do it alone. The part I wasn't honest about was how much I needed you. You were the catalyst that made me want a future." His lips curved in a half-smile. "But, I don't know, the gut-punch of actually owning the feeling of wanting a life with you kept my mouth shut." His gaze met hers. "Maybe if I admitted how much and how long I needed you, you wouldn't have left, but I couldn't… okay, more like wouldn't…" His voice trailed off and he glanced away.

She sat up. "Wait, why not?" Her gut screamed he hadn't told her everything that night, especially when his brain wouldn't shut down.

Reave lifted a shoulder. "Kelb, you carry guilt around like a mantle. Eventually you would've resented me saddling you with something you weren't ready for yet." His eyebrow arched, almost daring her to deny his words.

She couldn't. Obviously. One little conversation about the future weighed on her conscience and she'd all but jumped at the chance to take a tumble with Adkins along with bringing in a group of rogue mages.

Would she have been swayed if Reave shared the depth of his feelings? She searched deep, yeah, maybe. And, yeah, she'd have let the guilt eat her alive. After Enri. Before discovering Pope's role in Enri's death… yeah, she wouldn't have been ready for anything bright and shiny with Reave no matter how much she wanted it.

She brought his hand to her lips, brushing them over his knuckles. "You're not wrong. I'm sorry for it, especially for cutting out the way I did." The sting of leaving him still pricked her sometimes.

Reave flashed a smile. "It worked out for the best. With hindsight, I recognize I didn't say anything because I wanted you on better terms. Not because I painted a pretty picture of the future and not because we suffered a big loss and needed to grieve." He angled her toward him and cupped her face. "You weren't ready, and honestly, I wasn't either. I needed perspective to really see we faced a bigger threat than out of control mages or asshats that abuse their magic." He leaned in and pressed a kiss against her forehead.

Her eyes closed and she all but purred with satisfaction. Tilting her chin up, she meshed her lips with his, pouring everything—love, passion, hope—into the embrace. Her fingers tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, dragging the material up his torso.

Sex. Him. Forever.

She needed all of it.

Now.

This story is finally taking shape. I need to outline and brainstorm some additional ideas but I like where it's going.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Melee

Brrrr. The past week ended up being a wild ride of crappy weather and really cold temperatures. Of course, we're warming up for a few days then back to the icy tundra again. I predict lots of colds and other nasty viral illnesses in the near future. Bleh.

It was a good week to stay in and watch television. I finished a 77 Sunset Strip marathon binge watch. I love the classic show, even the last season that only had Bailey as the detective. Completely different tone but good episodes.

Caught another episode of Pensacola Wings of Gold. Kind of fun to have them in a different location. Also watched an episode of Lexx. This is one I didn't remember seeing the first time around. Nice to have something unexpected.

Started the fifth season of Endeavor. I love this show. I'm kind of looking forward to maybe doing an entire start-to-finish watch of Inspector Frost once the Endeavor series concludes. I can follow it up with Lewis. Started episode two of season fourteen of Midsomer Murders. I'm quite enjoying the new Barnaby and somewhat different tone of the show.

Finally got to watch the fifth season premiere of Gotham. The app on my streaming device was being contrary and kept stopping before the opening credits even rolled. Played the stupid ads though. Loved the opening episode. Between this show and Riverdale, the batshit crazy can't be topped. Just saying.

I caught some more Classic Who, finishing up the space museum episodes and starting on the next Dalek arc. Also binge watched a day of Mod Squad.

That's it for television. A little lighter than I originally thought. Tonight's post is from Melee, a novella that started with a two-word prompt of "forget this".

Here's the mini-blurb:

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

And a preview snippet…

"Psst. Hey. Hey, you. Raven chick. Wake up."

Josie Walls fought through the fog in her brain to address the persistent voice to her left. "The name's not Raven and I'm not asleep." Drugged to the nth degree, yes.

Definitely not asleep.

The voice, deep and smooth but with a bit of a rasp between breaths, spoke again. "Do you know where we are? Or how we got here?" Struggling sounds echoed in the space. "Or what the hell is going on?"

Josie blinked and tried to sit up. Fuck. She couldn't move either. Restraints around her wrists and feet and—if she didn't miss her guess her midsection—held her immobile.

She growled. "No. No. And no. Absolutely clueless over here." At least the fuzziness in her mind started to clear. "You can't move either?" The rattling of metal on metal answered.

Shit. What the hell happened? The last she remembered… being at Zero Chill, the new club on the boulevard. Out of her league on a good day, she'd gone to blow off steam and max out her ex's credit card. Damn, I looked kick-ass in that slinky red dress.

"Hey. Hey… did you zone out on me?" The voice broke through her memory.

Josie shook her head… or tried to. A band of something foamy held it in place, too.

She cleared her throat. "No. Trying to piece the how and what together. Head hurts and everything is fuzzy and distorted." Like a bad experience with booze or drugs.

The guy snorted. "Yeah and not in a good way. This blows ass." He struggled again. "Name's Parson. Last thing I remember is getting out of a limo with a group of friends at Zero Chill."

Josie jerked in response to the name of the club. "That's where I was." Why couldn't she remember leaving?

Parson cut into her musing again. "That's something at least." He waited a beat. "Can I know your name?" Waited another. "Aw, hell. Do you remember it?"

She smiled, which made her face ache, something she'd have to ponder later. "I remember. I'm Josie." Angling her head as much as the restraints would allow, she got her first glimpse of Parson.

Whoo, boy. Covered from shoulder to toe in a clear, gauzy fabric, he took up most of the neighboring table. The material left little to the imagination. The man's primo physique displayed nicely. What the hell, Josie? Figure shit out now… ogle later.

"Wish I could say it's nice to meet you, Josie, but I'd rather know what the hell is going on instead."

She almost chuckled. But she couldn't. Unease slithered its way through her when she cast a glance around their location. Stark white walls, lots of stainless steel, and terrifying-looking equipment met her gaze.

She made a stab a keeping the rising fear at bay. "Uh, Parson, something tells me we're not in Zero Chill anymore." Hell, it didn't look like they were in the US anymore. The language on the piece of machinery looked foreign.

He made a garbled choking sound. "Yeah, I got that." He struggled against the bindings again. "I'd like someone to tell me what the fuck is going on."

A bright light snapped on overhead and a booming voice supplied an answer. "All in due time, my captive subjects. Until then… enjoy the solitude while you can." A rumble of something resembling a laugh followed.

Josie closed her eyes, the full extent of her dilemma seeping into her. "Son of a bitch. Hollis Mayweather."

Her stupid, lowdown, good for nothing ex.

This one is taking some turns I didn't expect but I love it. I'm at the point where a long brainstorming session needs to happen so I can flesh out all the story beats.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye