Sunday Snippet: Red-Eyed Monster

February 19, 2017

Okay, I ended up watching The Walking Dead and enjoyed having the group back together. As always, The Talking Dead made me happy, too.

An off week for The Flash and Legends of Tomorrow, which meant I got to start a binge watch of Daredevil. So far, so good. I have two more episodes of season one to watch and I'm loving it.

Arrow's episode with the origin of Wild Dog ended up being terrific. I'm so happy they got a season six order. Arrow is consistently one of my favorites.

Riverdale continues to be must see for me. It's not perfect, but I like that. Lots of room to grow the characters and plot threads. I'll be waiting patiently for the next person to slap Alice Cooper… or to bring her down. Either is okay with me.

Caught up on Murdoch Mysteries and happy to see Brackenreid back. I enjoy him a lot. Looking forward to this week's episode.

And that's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Red-Eyed Monster, a novella with a twist on the Hansel and Gretel tale.

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…

The beast, a red-eyed, fire-breathing monster made its way through the enchanted woods. The huge metallic tale cut a swath behind him, ruining gardens, flower beds, and outdoor oases. Marcus Lamier smiled in the dark confines of his workshop, also known as his den of iniquity.

"Ten years I've waited. The time for vengeance is now." He guided the beast along the north quadrant of the magical forest, giving it free reign to destroy yards and wreak havoc on crops.

Banished for using the dark arts, Marcus hated being on the extreme edge of the realm. He didn't appreciate mingling with the others, humans who had no concept of magick or how to wield its power. But the regular population paid his bills and gave him the means to exact his revenge for being exiled.

"They shouldn't have interfered with my plans." Marcus urged the beast to a faster pace; viewing the chaos it left behind through the red filmy haze of its eyes connected to Marcus by a telepathic link.

His reputation for fixing the unfixable gave him a steady clientele that paid whatever price he named to fix their objects. Of course, using magick meant he could repair anything the regulars brought him. It also afforded him the means to build the object of his revenge, the beast plowing through the enchanted woods.

Marcus planned to start small; the north quadrant tonight and the west section tomorrow. "That'll get their attention." And one other person should take an interest. "Psyche."

His obsession with her started over ten years ago. At sixteen, Psyche Hood's inquisitive mind craved new and exciting knowledge. Forbidden topics intrigued her, nothing off-limits—even the dark arts.

Marcus snorted. "And that's how I ended up here." He directed the beast to end its destruction and guided him to the small cottage in the center of the woods.

Psyche resided behind the painted, green door. Marcus used the beast as a conduit and reached out with his mind. Not there. Probably off with her golden boy, Errol Winkam.

The bitter taste of bile filled Marcus's throat. "She won't be yours much longer."

Winkham had no idea what he had with Psyche. Her potential for power grew with each passing year. Marcus wanted to pluck Psyche and watch her ripen into the commanding mage he envisioned.

Ordering the beast to return to its lair, Marcus broke the connection. "Soon, Psyche. You'll be mine very soon."

Enjoying trying my hand at adding a twisty update to one of my favorite fairy tales.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Mirror of the Mist

Holy cheez-its! Ohio is back to chilly, where-did-spring-go weather again. We haven't even hit fifty degrees for the day. LOL

But, the brisk temperature makes for great television viewing. This week didn't turn out too badly either.

Gotham's episode moved the story along and I'm excited to see what this week holds.

The Flash had a great showing. I loved all the interactions with the characters. Quite a complicated mix but somehow the relationships all work. Agents of SHIELD ended a character I've grown fond of, but I thoroughly enjoyed the inside movie references and how they tied into the small screen story.

Arrow pulled off a great episode, at least the part I saw. I had an unavoidable meeting on Wednesday and haven't had a moment to really catch up on the beginning yet.

Legends of Tomorrow. Wow. I hope the whole time travel thing lets the sacrificed character return. If not, I'm going to be very disappointed. Truly great stuff, though. And Orphan Black continues to blow my mind each and every week. I LOVE this show.

All caught up on Banshee and Wynonna Earp, with the exception of this week's episodes. That will be rectified later today. Caught the trailer for season three of The Last Ship and I'm now eagerly awaiting June so I can dive back into this one.

And that's it for television this week.

Tonight's post is from Mirror of the Mist, a novella prompted on a modern day, urban riff of Snow White.

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…

"Tea?" Dys pulled a skeptical face.

Her lips curved. "I'm in a very uncivilized business, Mr. Hunter. High tea is my way of keeping balance in my life." She nodded towards Nardo and Beltane who took their cue and quietly left the office.

Dys lifted a brow. "You've got quite a set-up here, Ms. Song. And your fighters are extremely well-trained. You don't even have to utter a word."

She smirked. "And you're thinking I lead them all around by their dicks, right?" She snorted. "I have a full roster, Mr. Hunter, minus one combatant. I train seven men daily, schedule their fights, get promotional spots set up, and personally check the venues to make sure they're up to my standards. I don't have the time to touch any of them… and neither do they during the fight season." She paused, tilting her head to the side. "It's insulting to think I spend my days, flat on my back with my legs spread, catering to their sexual needs. How could I possibly manage to get anything else done?"

Dys gave her a slow once over, head to toe. "Sure would be one hell of an incentive." A corner of his mouth twisted upward. "And no one said you had to be flat on your back. Up against a wall would be my first choice." He drained the mug of tea she'd given him.

Lyric fought a shudder. The man had a wicked way with words and her vivid imagination had no trouble envisioning a steamy encounter with Dys Hunter. Blinking the imagery away, she sipped her brew and resisted grabbing his cup and reading the leaves.

Instead she gave him a long, level look. "Let's be clear, Mr. Hunter. Your first choice is duly noted and filed away under not happening anytime soon. If you want to be part of this outfit, rule number one is understanding I'm not here to satisfy your sex drive." She pinned him with her gaze. "I'm your boss, which means if you can't deal, you should walk out the way you came in." Folding her hands in front of her, she waited for a response.

Dys quirked an eyebrow. "Do I get the goon squad as my escort again?" His words lacked heat, but his displeasure came through loud and clear.

Lyric shook her head. "Considering you'll end up working with the goon squad as part of the team, this might not be the best fit for you." She scooted back and rose from her chair. "You have an impressive record, Mr. Hunter, but your physical prowess is only one aspect of being part of this group. You have to respect process, the fighters, and me." Moving around the desk, she perched on the edge. "I have doubts on all three counts."

Her position forced Dys to look up in order to meet her gaze.

He crossed his arms over his chest, which emphasized his bulging biceps. "Look, Ms. Song, you might have doubts about me, but you're going to hire me anyway." He kicked his legs out, his booted feet landing against her black stiletto-clad heels.

Lyric arched an eyebrow. "Please, tell me why I should." Dammit, her voice sounded much raspier than she wanted it to.

Something tells me Lyric's voice will get reactive whenever Dys is in her vicinity. LOL

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye