Sunday Snippet: Blurred Lines

Brrrrr!! It's crazypants cold in Ohio. We're having the standard bizarre weather. At the beginning of the week, we had an icy snow mix. My middle kidlet had his second spinout and almost took out a road sign. Luckily, the damage to his car is minimal and he didn't get a ticket. Thank you, Deputy H! On Thursday, it was almost sixty degrees. Friday started out around fifty-eight then steadily dropped over thirty degrees and dumped freezing rain and eight inches of snow. I'm at the point where I'm over the crappy driving conditions. I don't mind winter weather for the most part but I hate driving when ice is involved. Bleh.

The nice thing about the frigid temperatures is settling in with a good manuscript and watching movies or television. This week I got through the most of the back half of Chicago Fire. Some very emotional through lines, which I enjoyed. I'm liking the later season episodes much better than the first part of the season.

I'm hoping to start The Punisher this week. I've heard some terrific things about the season. Looking forward to more Frank Castle.

Also rewatching Hollywood Dirt on Passionflix. This steamy movie is so much fun. I'm a fan of the male lead anyway so I'm thrilled to have him in a hot and sexy role.

My regular shows return this week and I'm excited. Can't wait for more Arrow episodes. Also looking forward to the Black Lightning premiere.

That's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Blurred Lines, a novella that started as a snippet in time alternate universe fanfiction for one of my favorite shows. I liked the story so much I wanted to make it original.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Becca and York. Finding their way back to each other is the ultimate achievement. Working out how they'll function together is the challenge. The lines are all blurry because they've crossed back and forth so many times.

And a preview snippet…

Penny would probably be better for him than Becca. But Penny didn't get him. Not truly, in the elemental way a perfect partner should understand their mate. Their most recent conversation more or less proved the point.

He'd slept in the guest room the night before. She had entered the kitchen, barely sparing him a glance before pouring a cup of coffee and sitting down to pick up her work unit, scanning the daily assignments. He'd expected the cold shoulder, and honestly, the chilly atmosphere gave him the resolve he needed to dig in his heels.

He grabbed his mug and carried it to the counter. "I think you and I need to face some hard truths."

Penny laid her device aside and lifted a brow. "And what would those be, York?" She tapped her fingernails on the pristine white surface of the bar.

He set his cup down. "I'm not what you really want. You love what you think I should be."

She flicked her gaze in his direction. "And what's that, York?"

He sighed. "An ideal. One I can't live up to."

Her lips thinned to a straight line. "Because you don't want to."

He met her gaze. "I've never wanted to. Can you not see that, Penny?" He placed his forearms on the counter, leaning in. "I'll never be what you picture in your head."

She rolled a shoulder and got up. "You have no idea what I imagine, York. And that's your choice, too." She gave him a sad smile.

Something she did a lot lately, not that anyone would ever know. She always put on a brave face and played happily ever after.

The act drove him mad sometimes.

He straightened. "I thought we could build something—a life—together." He pushed away from the bar, pacing back and forth. "But, Penny, the only thing we constructed is a carefully fabricated lie." He stopped and sighed. "And I have no idea how to find the truth anymore."

Penny got up and tilted her head to the side. "Yes, you do." She nodded, a resigned look settling across her face. "Yes. You do." She shook her head. "But you're right, York. I loved the man I thought you should be, and you're not that man."

He agreed. "No, I'm not."

Penny gave him a long considering look. "I won't expect you home tonight. You can send a moving service to get your things."

I'm having a lot of fun writing this one. The story hasn't quite made up its mind if it wants to be magickal fantasy or speculative romance, but I like the magickal elements. We'll see if the sages finally decide which way they want to go.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Blurred Lines

Great television viewing week. I finished up watching all available episodes of Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries and *sigh* what a great show. From what I gather, the third season might be the last, but I'll live in hope for more. Either way, the finale satisfied me, so bonus points for that.

Teen Wolf. What can I say? I'm intrigued by the possibilities, but I kind of hope making Parrish look like a bad guy is a ploy. I kind of like him. I'm also hoping the desert wolf thread is laying groundwork for next season. More interesting possibilities there.

The Last Ship is so good at keeping me on the edge of my seat. I love how twisty and turny the plot gets. Such a great summer viewing experience.

My Friday night lineup continues to bring good stuff to my screen. Defiance seriously upped its game this season. Killjoys keeps me glued, especially for the sibling bonding but also for the very secretive dance the trio does. John seems like the most open of the group, but I have a sneaky suspicion he may have a few big skeletons in his closet, too. Dark Matter is revealing little pieces of information and I'm liking the glimpses we're getting into the crew's histories. I would like to see a little more movement on who or what put them into the stasis chambers.

Have I mentioned how much I love having new material to watch in the middle of the summer?

Tonight's post is from Blurred Lines, a novella where my main characters are terrific at messing up their lives.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Becca and York. Finding their way back to each other is the ultimate achievement. Working out how they'll function together is the challenge. The lines are all blurry because they've crossed back and forth so many times.

And a preview snippet…

Becca needed to track York down, even if the idea sucked. She'd opened a door long since closed with him. Hell, she'd kicked the damn thing in just to see if she'd get a response. Her fingers went to her still healing split lip. He'd definitely had a strong reaction to her challenge. Gave as good as he got when they'd stepped into the ring. Not that she didn't deserve it. At least he still considered her an equal in that respect, even if he treated her like green newb in every other.

She had no idea about any other aspect of her life, except knowing how much damage she and York could do to each other. They'd gone round and round, neither pulling their punches. Not that they ever did. But the wall he'd built between them, the one she all but helped him erect, had cracked and she got a glimpse of the man she used to know.

But they had a long way to go. And her gut said the time had come to take another step. That meant they needed to talk and face the crazy intense whatever they had that existed between them.

She hated talking, trying to put what she felt into words. York lived for hashing things out. He always wanted clear cut, definitive answers.

Too bad she rarely had them.

Analysis of her heart never went well. She had too many bruises to get past. Too much pain to work around. So much easier to go with the moment and let instinct lead the way.

Not that it worked out every time. Her gut didn't always get it right. She'd jumped into a horrible relationship with the wrong man by listening to it.

And cut the one she loved so deeply he'd carved her out of his world. Shut her out, slammed the door closed, and threw the key down the toilet.

Then flushed for good measure.

Twice.

Becca didn't blame him for freezing her out. Even though it hurt like a bitch. She'd deserved it.

She had a chance now. Had set it up so she would. His constant pissy attitude fueled hers. They sniped and snapped—through third parties—and they'd passed the point of ridiculousness.

She couldn’t stand the distance anymore. So she'd pushed to get York in the arena… even though they'd each drawn different names and fought a round already. She didn't know whether to be elated or pissed when he finally accepted.

The damage they'd done to each other had been worth each punch, every exhausted swing, and the hostile accusations. Something about venting the pent up emotion out, regardless of the spectacle they created, got them past the deep-seeded rage.

And their brawl complicated everything. But Becca welcomed the insanity. Complex history aside, she and York needed to find a way to co-exist peacefully. Or at least the way they defined the word.

She had no idea how they fit together anymore… or if they could. Difficult didn't describe the road ahead. Crazy feelings, relationships with other people, working together—she might go insane trying to work it all out.

But she wanted, more than anything, more than she could safely admit, to work it out with York.

Becca's got a ways to go if she wants to work things out with York, but he's just about ready to soften his attitude towards her. I love writing these two screwed up characters.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Blurred Lines

Hello! Happy St. Paddy's Day for anyone who celebrates…and everyone should, no?

Been fighting a nasty headache all day. The kind that lingers, along the fringes, and just takes up residence. Very annoying. Bleh.

So, short post tonight. The snippet is from Blurred Lines, an urban fantasy style setting, with two very conflicted characters.

Here's the tagline:

Becca and York. Finding their way back to each other is the ultimate achievement. Working out how they'll function together is the challenge. The lines are all blurry because they've crossed back and forth so many times.

And here's the preview snippet…

The speed bag became a blur, but York kept going at it. The thoughts in his head needed an outlet and the bag had become the best recipient for punishment. He feared he'd hurt an actual person. He got like this sometimes… and didn't like it. Holding his emotions in check, burying them deep—that worked for him.

Most of the time.

Becca Wills brought out the worst in him. And the best. There never seemed to be an in between with her. She evoked strong reactions, drew him out in unexpected ways, made him feel things on a level so deep he'd never be able to purge her completely from his mind.

He'd loved her, hated her, and desperately wanted to not feel anything. In a way, things had been so much easier when he could hold Becca at arm's length, shutting everything down and locking it up. Ignore the soul deep pain her betrayal had left him with and pretend she'd become nothing more than someone he had to work with now that she'd returned from her foray to civilian life. Not that he'd been able to manage it…she could be in a different room and still be in his face. And it pissed him off even when he knew it wasn't rational.

After the bout with Becca in the ring, all his emotions erupted to the surface and spilled over into everything he did. If he let it continue and go unchecked, he'd spin out of control. His anger at her had been an anchor and now that he'd spent it—he felt tetherless. It made him antsy and restless—keyed up without an outlet…a powder keg waiting to explode.

Yep, after tearing each other apart, verbally and physically, complicated didn't even begin to describe his feelings…unless he threw in conflicted, confused and consciously aware…oh yeah, most definitely all of the above. Awake, asleep, it didn't matter. He could feel her presence seeping into his pores, getting under his skin, chipping away at his common sense.

And that should bother him, right?

But it didn't.

He'd let her back in…more or less. And it felt right and wrong all at the same time. And the thing that had him tied up in knots was the fact he welcomed it…her…Becca. And he really shouldn't. A smart, guy would gather up the scattered remnants of his defenses and walk away.

But he wouldn't. Couldn't.

Because whatever they were to each other, wherever they ended up, or however they got there…she'd become a part of his life he couldn't let go. But the thing that chafed at him the most? He didn't know where she fit anymore.

They were in a relationship…with other people…so how the hell should it work? Hell, could it? How did he feel about any of it? For that matter, how did Becca?

So many questions… no easy answers.

But the biggest question of all? Did he even want easy?

York had no idea… hence the abuse of the speed bag. He had to figure out how to navigate the choppy sea of confusion? His hands kept punching, while his brain kept churning out more questions.

The poor guy. Becca definitely has him all twisted up inside. But she's not exactly clear on what she wants either. So far, it's been a fun challenge to write them trying to figure it all out. :D

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye