Sunday Snippet: Choice to Make

The shortest month went by really fast. I can't believe we're headed for March again. It's been such a weird year and I'm actually kind of blown away that it feels like the last twelve months have flown by yet also seemed to last a decade. Seriously.

Had a somewhat busy work week and didn't get a lot of television watched. But I got a few things viewed. Started with Silent Witness and finished up the first episode of season nine.

I actually got two arcs of Classic Who watched. I think I'm almost finished with season thirteen. I like this season. There have been some interesting episodes and I love Elisabeth Sladen a lot.

Caught an episode of Peak Practice. I had to do some downloading with the IMDBTV app to get back into this one. That's what happens when I take a longish break.

As usual, I caught my mystery shows on Ovation and some Classic Perry Mason. Also caught a binge marathon of Hawaii Five-0. I'm hoping to see the last two seasons at some point.

That's pretty much it for television. Tonight's post is from Choice to Make, a novella that puts a heavy decision on the heroine and she has to choose how her future will unfold.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Hallen and Will never get the timing right until the Fates step in and give them a chance. But each has a choice to make and cosmic irony may rear its ugly head … again.

And a preview snippet…

Hallen came awake slowly. At least she thought she did. Maybe slumber hadn't claimed her. It could be something else entirely.

Who knew?

She experienced a floaty, shifting kind of feeling. Heavy and buoyant at the same time. The space around her glowed brightly, but she couldn't find a source for the light. She tested her arms and legs. At least they seemed to be functioning properly.

What the hell? Does the crazy just have to follow me around? Sitting up, she made sure she had her feet on solid ground before standing. She might as well use them to explore. If the weird drifting sensation thing didn't make her fall over when she tried. Hallen took a tentative step forward and remained upright. So far, so good. Two more steps and she stopped. Looked down. And discovered she happened to be wearing a dress.

Not just any old rag either but an exact replica of her once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity gown. The one she wore during the Landing Day celebration. Only this one came in some soft, shimmery shade she couldn't begin to name. Not really gold, white, or ivory but a subtle mix of all three.

She laughed, not caring if the sound echoed all around her. Too bad Will isn't here to see me. He'd appreciate the humor.

Recalling the look on his face that day long ago, she figured he'd probably like the dress, too.

She sobered. Why a dress? Not even close to what she'd choose to wear for all eternity.

Oh shit. Maybe she'd gone to hell.

The thought irritated her. No … it pissed her off. After everything, everything … this could not be hell. Hadn't she made up for all the damnable things she'd done?

Maybe. Maybe not.

Hallen shook off the notion and made her way around the huge cavernous area, still wondering at the brightness. Like thousands of candles burning, but from no source she could find.

And the light followed her around, illuminating areas where she walked, staying lit as she passed through. "There has to be an end to this place somewhere, right?"

Hallen kept going and discovered several room-sized niches. She explored each as she came upon a new one. So far, there were eleven, laid out in random intervals off the main circular chamber. None of them gave her any indication of where she might be. In fact, they all looked similar to each other, only the colors were different.

Entering the last one, she found that it, too, remained empty of life. Disappointed, she made her way back to the center, surprised to find it no longer vacant.

Three women in ancient garb stood in the middle of the large space surrounded by so much light Hallen held up a hand to shield her eyes. She had a feeling answers were about to come her way. The thought filled her with relief and dread at the same time.

Making her way toward the women, Hallen stopped at the outer edge of the circle they inhabited. The brightness finally dimmed and Hallen got a good look at the three. One carried a spindle. One had a large staff held gracefully in her hands, almost like an extension of her limbs. And the last woman held an odd looking pair of scissors, circular in shape, with the markings of a sundial around the edges.

The Fates.

They couldn't be anything else, not if all her indoctrination as a child was correct. And if she felt a small pang of fear, it was only because the scriptures described the trio as crones who could be harsh and cruel, or benevolent, depending on their whims.

Hallen straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, ready for whatever.

The woman with the spindle, Klotho … if memory served, stepped forward. "Hallen Marx, we are the Moirae, weavers of destiny."

Hallen kept her mouth shut when a craggy hand passed over the thread on the spindle. Moments of her life blinked in and out of focus as the spool changed into a spinning wheel, which then morphed into a loom.

Each and every connection she'd ever made with people, friend or foe, added to the tapestry that represented her existence. But it all seemed distant and out of perspective, so it appeared much less intense than it had actually been. Hallen found it odd and unsettling.

The woman with the staff, Lakhesis, directed her rod to the current moment. "Your destiny is complete, Hallen Marx. You led humanity to its end." She placed the tip on the loom. "The measured thread stops here."

Hallen shrugged. "I completed my journey, so that means what?" There had to be more. "Why am I here? Is this my end?"

Atropos moved forward, placing her scissors on Hallen's thread, then turned her searching gaze in Hallen's direction. "Perhaps. Have you found what you've always searched for?"

A very loaded question. Had she? Hallen considered an answer. She'd let go of the past. Resolved her parental issues. Ended on good terms with the old man.

She'd dealt with James. Managed to be there for him in the end, regardless of him being an enemy agent. She hadn't been the greatest wife, but she'd cared for him the best way she knew how and finally let him go to find his way to the other side.

And then there was Will. Always Will.

This story is pulling threads, no pun intended, I didn't expect and I like how those strands are coming together.

 

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Casting Spells (a Lantern Jack tale)

What a week. I spent a lot of time texting family and friends in Texas to make sure they were making it through their worst deep freeze ever. Even my brother, who lived in Ohio for most of his life, had a tough time. He's in the Dallas area and, so far, has had two pipes burst. Here's hoping that's the worst of the damage.

Television ended up being pretty light this week. I caught another episode of No Offence, which I'm enjoying a lot.

Also finished up the final episode of Silent Witness for season eight. I'll be moving on to season nine this week.

I've heard some good things about Riverdale, so I should probably finish up what I have to watch and get started on the new season.

Weirdly, the sages have been feeding me a ton of new story ideas, which I love, but I also have a massive amount of WIPs that need to be finished. I need to have a sit-down chat with those pesky imps.

Tonight's post is from Casting Spells, a Lantern Jack short featuring a witch and a warlock who need to get on the same page with Jack's help.

Here's the mini-blurb:

The Lantern Jack is back to right another wrong. Celia Carmichael is overwhelmed by her new role as coven head and she's determined to learn all she can about the familiar who chose her, the cat named Haven. Nyx Nolan is on a mission to discover where the remains of his ancestor, the warden of warlocks is buried. The man disappeared over a century ago and left a signet ring and a photo for Nyx as the only clue to his whereabouts. Celia and Nyx discover their histories are entwined and they have the power to lay the animosity between the witches and the warlocks to rest.

And a preview snippet…

Celia Carmichael opened her front door ready to blast the next offender standing on the other side. "Dammit, I'll move to the manor when I'm good and—" She spoke to an empty space.

Confused, she almost yelped in surprise when a sleek white cat brushed up against her legs.

"Well, hello, who are you?" And how did you knock on my door? "Are you lost?" She stooped down, running her hand over the silky creature.

A collar graced its neck and a little charm dangled from a metal circle. Celia checked to see if the tag contained the owner's information.

She gasped when the symbol for haven met her eyes. "There hasn't been a coven familiar in almost two generations." Scooping the cat into her arms, Celia closed the door and carried the gorgeous animal into her living room. "You're the first good omen in my very short tenure as coven leader." And possibly a sign she'd actually be allowed to function as the head of their group.

Depositing the cat—Haven would be her name—on the couch, Celia gave the feline freedom to roam. Haven sat on her hind legs and met Celia's gaze. Celia opened her mind and whispered an incantation, hoping the familiar would communicate its reason for choosing her.

An image of a man filled Celia's head. Dark hair and eyes, a little brooding, and fit. Just her type—when she used to have the opportunity to get out and mingle with men.

Celia tilted her head to one side. "That doesn't explain why you picked me. Do I need protection from this guy?" An image of the manor flashed in Celia's brain. "Oh, not you, too." She heaved a sigh.

The cat broke the psychic connection and curled up on the couch, content to stick around for a while.

Celia rose and crossed to the front door. "I'll move when I'm ready." Grabbing her coat, she exited the carriage house, got in her car, and headed for town. She had some shopping to do. After all, even familiars needed food and cat litter.

I love writing these Lantern Jack tales. I've got several more plotted out and one final story to figure out that will wrap everything up. These books are so much fun.

 

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: A Capsized Buccaneer

Happy Valentine's to those who celebrate. We're supposed to get blasted with more snow but I definitely won't gripe about it because I have family and friends in Texas that will no doubt have it so much worse.

Semi-busy week again with a new work project. Things are picking up a little and I'm grateful and happy to have work still coming in.

I started a new episode of Blue Heelers and have a feeling it's going to be an interesting one. I love getting slice of life glimpses into the town and how it operates.

I finished up the first part of Silent Witness's last two episodes of season eight. I'll be starting the second part this week. Then it's off to season nine.

Caught another episode of No Offence and I'm still liking the show. I'm not a big comedy fan, which is probably evident in my weekly recaps, but I will give dramedies a shot. Glad I stuck with this one.

New seasons are starting of shows I normally watch but I'm so far behind. I haven't been in the mood or the right headspace to really absorb some of them. Maybe I'll get there during the blizzard that's supposed to be headed our way.

I also caught my usual fare of mystery shows this week, but that's pretty much it for television. Tonight's post is from A Capsized Buccaneer, a novella that takes a few interesting twists and puts the main characters on a deserted island that isn't so deserted.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Kallen Bond, a star athlete certain to lead her team to a championship win, takes a much needed two-day excursion aboard a Bertelli luxury yacht before the big game. The Bertellis sabotage their ship to eliminate Kallen from the competition, but she's saved by Zeb, the family black sheep, and they end up stranded on a remote island with no way home.

And a preview snippet…

Both had certain notoriety so they had some common ground there. They didn't move in the same circles, but that didn't stop social media from making their names trend on occasion. She called her own shots, maybe he meant that.

Zeb rolled a shoulder. "You live by your own code. It's refreshing." He kicked his feet out and leaned against the crate. "Me? I've had a set foundation since birth; one that's hard to deviate from." He sent her a raised-eyebrow look. "And I'm the black sheep of the Bertellis. But even then, there's a standard I have to live up to. One not of my choosing." His lips twisted in a grimace.

Kallen kind of got what he meant. "I sort of get that. I have a ton of freedom, but I still had to meet requirements—like attending the glitzy function on the yacht." She shuddered. "I love interacting with fans, but the end of the season is such a grind, especially if we make the playoffs. I'm never at my best." Wincing, her shoulders slumped. "I sound horrible. I'm thankful for the sponsorships and endorsement opportunities … don't get me wrong. I'd rather not have to play dress-up and attend functions when I have a championship to prep for." That said, she did have an off season.

She couldn't imagine having a family name to worry about. Black sheep or not. She came from a solidly average background and her parents had been proud of her achievements. When they died in a multiple-vehicle accident right after she signed with the Buccaneers, she'd mourned them but moved on—just as they'd expect her to do. If nothing else, they'd ingrained practicality into her and gave her the support groundwork she'd need to survive on her own.

Even with the Bertelli bucketloads of money at his disposal, Zeb didn't seem to have had that kind of framework to fall back on.

She crawled over and straddled his thighs. "You know … there's a lot to be said for going your own way. But I get why you can't. At least not completely." She wriggled around, getting comfortable and getting a rise out of him as well.

He cupped her face. "I'd walk away with nothing but the yacht—which is, well, a moot point now—if I could." His thumb stroked her cheek. "I don't need the iron-clad prison being a Bertelli keeps me in most of the time." His lips ghosted along her jawline.

Kallen inched his shirt up. "Why do you stick around then?" Her fingers brushed over his torso.

He grabbed the back of the garment and tugged the tee over his head. "A promise I made to my mom long ago. As long as she's alive, I won't rock the boat too much." He huffed out a laugh. "No pun intended."

Kallen chuckled but sobered. "Why not go for the full-treatment vacation then? Be who you want while we're here?" She inched back and loosened the button on his pants. "And make the most of what we can?" She leaned in to capture his lips.

Zeb mumbled against her mouth. "Sounds like an excellent plan." He pushed her shirt up and cupped her breasts.

We definitely have this in common. Being stranded with him won't get boring.

This story is fun and challenging. I didn't intend to turn this into more than one book, but I have a feeling there's more to come from Kallen and Zeb.

 

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Calamity of Chaos (a Chaos novella)

So far, February has been cold and snowy in Ohio. Not a complaint or anything. It's been a while since we've had snow that stuck around for longer than a day or two.

Had a fairly busy work week but I did manage to get a couple of shows watched. I started with the last two episodes of Queens of Mystery and also caught the behind the scenes and easter egg specials. I'm looking forward to another season of this show if they decide to go ahead.

I started another episode of Silent Witness and should finish it up over the next day or so. This two-parter will round out the eighth season and I'll start nine in the near future.

Caught the first episode of a new-to-me series, No Offence. Set in Manchester, I really liked the first episode. It's a bit of a dramedy which isn't usually my cuppa but I'll give this one a solid shot.

Also got another episode of Blue Heelers almost finished. This had a fun crop circle thing going on to offset a tragedy. The only thing left is the reveal of who committed a murder.

Caught my usual Ovation mysteries also. And I found a channel that's showing Poltergeist: The Legacy, which I loved when it originally aired. I really miss old-school Syfy channel sometimes. The current incarnation annoys me to the point I can't really watch it anymore. I think the freak of the week movies really ruined the entire channel for me.

That's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Calamity of Chaos, a novella that follows Consortium of Chaos with the return of Ashton and Esme.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Esme and Ashton embark on a trip to America, on the trail of their nemesis's partner. Calamity ensues when they stumble upon a dastardly plot to keep them from returning home.

And a preview snippet…

Esme Von Staunton opened the door to greet her brother. "Eric, what brings you here?" She stepped back so he could enter.

Eric glanced behind Esme. "Is Ash here? I've got some news." He removed his coat and swung it over his arm.

Smithers entered and frowned then crossed over and took Eric's garment, which he hung up to avoid wrinkling. "Mr. Sylvester will be in shortly. He's finishing up a letter to the consortium." With a nod, he exited the room.

Esme rolled her eyes. "He's been particularly proper lately. It's driving me mad." She led Eric to the seating arrangement and let him decide where to land.

He chose the settee, which didn't surprise her. His tall frame never settled comfortably on smaller furniture. Esme perched on the edge of a side chair.

Ash entered. "Eric. A nice surprise to have you here." He greeted Esme's older sibling with a firm handshake then turned and dropped a kiss on Esme's lips.

Eric got straight to his point. "I've got news. You're going to have a tough time finding Mobride's partner because he isn't in Briton." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs.

Ash shot Esme a quick glance. "You're certain? We haven't exhausted all of our resources here yet." He sat on the chair next to Esme's.

Eric lifted his chin. "Don't waste them here."

Esme cut in. "So, where should we be looking? Europe's a big continent." She hated the idea of the man being out there, pursuing Mobride's agenda.

Eric snorted. "He's not in Europe. If you want to find the baron's partner, you'll have to head for America."

Esme's mouth dropped open. "America? That's something we didn't foresee." But why would they?

Ash cocked his head. "How good is this information?" His face grew thoughtful, the wheels in his brain no doubt shifting into overdrive.

Eric rolled a shoulder. "Mobride's top aide was overheard discussing how difficult it's been to manage the business interests with the baron in confinement. He's only allowed to see him once during the week." He paused, his lips pursing. "He's getting pressure from someone in America, wanting to know how long Mobride is going to be held and weighing the idea of coming to Briton to take over the enterprise." Eric sat back, shaking his head. "Can you imagine?"

Ash's lips thinned to a slash across his face. "No. And it won't happen. We're not going to have anyone else mucking up the recent progress we've made." He got and paced back and forth a few moments.

Esme didn't need Ash's extrasensory ability to guess what would come next.

Ash stopped midstride. "Es. Better get the Lady V checked over."

Eric frowned. "Whatever for?" The light dawned. "You're not really considering—"

Esme laughed, cutting him off. "Oh, yes, he is, brother dear." She got up and made her way to Ash's side. "We're going to America."

This is such a fun series even if it has some dark turns. I love writing Esme and Ashton and their merry band of friends.

 

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye