M.L. Skye's Blog, page 27

Sunday Snippet: Hot Rocks

Well, November is here. Gotta say, I hope it doesn't pass as slowly as September but not as fast as October. I'll look forward to a month that actually feels like a month again. Who knows when that'll happen?

Busy week with work projects. I didn't get a lot of new television watched. I mainly caught a few of the holiday movies on Hallmark and Lifetime and watched a lot of Ovation.

I did catch an episode of Blue Heelers. Also started a new one. The new guy in season two is still kind of annoying me. Here's hoping he settles down soon.

I also watched several episodes of Silent Witness. Finished up season five and started on six.

I also got to do early voting. My daughter and I went on Thursday and, thankfully, didn't have a long wait. One of the benefits to living in a rural area. I'll be happy when the election is over. It's been an exhausting ride this year.

Tonight's post is from Hot Rocks, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Ava and Walt are taken by the enemy and subjected to torture. They won't find a better time to examine their long and storied past, right?

And a preview snippet…

Ada scrambled to think of a way out of the clusterfuck she and Walt had walked into. Right smack in the hands of the worst of the worst possible captors. Woggins had a hard-on for Ava—she'd slipped through his fingers once before.

Ada stalled for time. "War's over, Woggins. There's no business, unfinished or otherwise, between us."

Walt snorted behind her and muttered, "Damn straight."

Woggins walked around in a circle and stopped in front of Ava. "Still, it's my lucky day. A two-for-one special. I can't believe you two fell for the same trap."

Ada gave a rude grunt. "Because you don't grasp the concept of loyalty. When one of our own calls, we show up." She kind of cursed the concept now because Woggins had taken the well-known tactic and twisted it to his own ends.

Woggins poked back. "Ah, yes. That beautiful united forces mantra." He moved around again, pausing in front of Walt. "Tell me, do you think that's what won the war?"

Ada could tell him it didn't hurt, but the war obviously hadn't ended for Vince and Ava didn't doubt they'd discover how much it hadn't in short time.

She jumped in to answer. "I think good people who refused to stay down won the war—despite your best efforts to strangle the entire galaxy."

Woggin's smirked. "Perhaps. But your side wasn't quite ready for victory now, was it?" He slowly ambled back and forth. "In fact, you're struggling to keep the shipping lines open, what with all the pirating going on out there."

Her gut leveled with certainty. Woggins definitely wanted something from them. The fact they were old enemies only sweetened the deal.

Woggins moved to stand in front of Ava again. "A shipment of high-end supplies went missing and I want to know where it went." He folded his arms over his chest. "Since Hot Rock company always seemed jacked-in to central command, I figured you red dogs would have a good idea where I should look."

Ava laughed. "Right. As if." She shook her head. "We're not going to give up that information, even if we had it." Which they did.

The shipment contained more than high-end supplies. It also held confiscated medical equipment the AP commandeered during the war. Hospitals needed that stuff if they ever hoped to reopen.

Woggins's lip kicked up in another smirk. "Then one of you will die..." He trailed a finger along Ava's collarbone. "Which one will it be?"

Walt finally spoke. "You'll kill both of us, so what difference does it make?"

Ava rolled her eyes. "Come on, Walt. The real question is who wants to die first?"

Walt shrugged. "Well, in that case, I volunteer."

Woggins arched an eyebrow. "Chivalry? Giving the female longer to live? Maybe escape?" He made a grimace of distaste.

Of course, the concept wouldn't register in his brain.

Walt snorted. "Not chivalry, asshole. More like I'd rather die a quick and painful death than listen to you drone on about, well … anything."

Woggins backhanded Walt and his head snapped to the side.

The entire frame rocked and jostled Ava, who grabbed onto Walt's legs. Woggins didn't like being insulted. He never had. And it proved to be one of his weaknesses.

Vince spit at Walt's feet. "Fuck you. No one said you'd die quick." He motioned for Boggs to place a large, hot rock at the base of the rack. The metal heated quickly, searing the exposed skin against it. Ava bit her tongue to keep from hissing in pain. A different goon entered the alcove and pulled Woggins out with Boggs following hot on his heels.

Once the room cleared, Ava snarled, "Are you bug-ass stupid? Pissing him off like that."

I'm actually enjoying this one. It's a bit of a departure from what I normally do, but it's also a challenge in the best way.

 

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.

 

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Holly's Masquerade

Well, we're almost to the end of another month and I'm trying to contemplate what the final two months of 2020 is going to be like. Frankly, I can't do it. LOL And we still have a full moon to get through in October.

Had a slower than normal week for television. I'm honestly not in the mood to watch much and have been catching marathons on regular cable for the most part. Hallmark started their holiday fare and one of the books I copy edited is featured as a new movie this year. Last year, another book I copy edited had a premiere. That's always so exciting!

I did catch an episode or two of Silent Witness, but other than that, I mainly watch Ovation. I'm crossing my fingers they don't have a major programming change anytime soon. That happens so frequently for me. I fall in love with the line-up and all of a sudden, some new honcho comes in and effs it all up. I'm looking at you HGTV, SyFy, and BBC America. Or, I lose access to a channel that usually has classic stuff I really enjoy. Sigh.

Tonight's post is from Holly's Masquerade, a Specter Station novella. It's also a loosely themed holiday story.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Roman Holly can't believe how smoothly the transition to his new base of operations on Specter Station is going, but he has Isis Tango, his uber-efficient admin, to thank. She moves halfway across the galaxy to stay by his side and he's not quite sure why. But Isis will reveal her reason at the holiday masquerade and it will blow Roman's mind.

And a sneaky peek…

Roman Holly surveyed the exterior of the place he'd be making his new base of operations—Specter Station. "Soon to be home sweet home." His private transport made a banking sweep and smoothly docked inside the landing bay in one of the spots reserved for Holly Galactic Group.

His new partner, but one of his oldest friends, Maddox Specter assigned seven bays for Roman's fleet of spacecraft.

"Maddox always goes overboard." Roman would maybe use two, three at most. "Unless I figure out a way to be in different places at the same time, I can only be on one ship in any given moment." He snagged his bag and disembarked to zero fanfare. "Huh, not what I expected." Pausing at the end of the ramp, he looked around for his ever-efficient admin, Isis.

Maddox skidded around the corner and stumbled to a halt. "Roman, you're a little early." His breath rasped out and he made an effort to straighten his tie.

Roman laughed. "And you were obviously otherwise occupied." He looked past Maddox's shoulder to see Juna Newberry—the station's head of security and Maddox's newly minted significant other—breezing down the causeway in the opposite direction.

Maddox smirked. "I can neither confirm nor deny that accusation." He chuckled and thrust out his palm. "Welcome to your new home, Ro. I'm so glad you're here."

Roman clasped Maddox's palm and pulled him into a side-arm hug. "Me, too. We should've done this years ago." His gaze went to the corridor that led to the main hub of the station.

Still no admin. Why isn't she here? Isis Tango made punctuality a fine art. Not like her to miss his arrival. Maddox led the way toward the main hub and kept up a running commentary. Roman listened with half an ear, concern over Isis making him distracted.

Maybe the move got to her and she hates it here. A stab of guilt hit him. He'd basically assumed she'd be okay moving across the galaxy to keep working for him.

"Maybe I should've asked her first?"

Maddox paused outside the lift leading to the office suites. "Ask who what first?" His eyebrow arched.

Roman shook his head. "Eh, nothing. A little worried Isis isn't with you." Then again, considering what Maddox had been up to, might be better—

Maddox smacked a hand on his forehead. "Aw, damn, totally my fault. I was supposed to stop by and let her know before I came down." A sheepish look crossed his face.

Roman lifted his chin. "Don't blame you for getting off track. If I had someone like Juna nearby, I'd probably never get any work done."

Maddox snorted. "Are you kidding? Isis puts Wanda to shame and Wanda isn't human."

Maddox used an advanced AI computer to keep him on target, his schedule organized, and pretty much run his life on the station.

The doors opened and they entered the lift.

Roman grinned. "Isis does have superb skill. And she's much nicer to look at than Wanda." Not that the life-like droid could be called unattractive.

Maddox nodded. "True. And, no doubt, Isis is buried in all the details for the Holly Masquerade you're throwing to launch the holiday season and celebrate your new venture with yours truly." Maddox keyed in the code for Roman's new office suite.

Roman inclined his chin. "You're probably right. She does get lost in making certain everything is crossed, dotted, and signed for." His stomach rumbled and he crossed to the panel beside the door. "Think I'll order in some dinner and surprise Isis." He glanced up. "Want to join us?"

Maddox smirked. "Thanks, but no. I'll be otherwise occupied with my head of security." A wide grin spread across his face.

Roman snorted and entered in an order to be delivered to his office. At the same time, he tamped down a niggle of concern over the move and how it affected his admin.

If all goes well, I'll be able to release this series next year. Yay!

 

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Hedging Bets

Wow, how can half the month be over already? Time either seems to fly by at the rate of insanity yet it often feels like it an entire decade exists within a twenty-four hour period. It's trippy.

Had a bunch of projects land in my inbox this week so television ended up being on the short end. I finished up a Blue Heelers episode and have another one ready to go.

Also made it through two-thirds of Silent Witness's fifth season. Two interesting cases. Looking forward to finishing up the last two episodes.

I watched a lot of the morning mysteries on Ovation again. I enjoy having those shows on in the background, especially when I’m shredding a ton of old paper files.

Looking forward to hopefully finishing up Picard and catching up on Riverdale and Roswell, New Mexico. As I mentioned, this is probably my last season of Riverdale. I literally can't stomach Hiram and I’m pretty sure he won't be going anywhere when the new season premieres.

That's the short list for television this week. Tonight's post is from Hedging Bets, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Lettie and Thane have issues that are getting in the way of their work and are thrown into separate cells for being insubordinate to a superior officer. Their commander decides they can stay locked up—in the same cell—until they work their crap out or one of them calls for a body bag.

And a sneaky peek…

Thane kept his distance behind Lettie when the security team came to escort them to the brig. "Stupid to get sucked into another argument with her." The guy beside him gave a rude snort.

Thane ignored him. He didn't care what the marine thought. The guy probably figured Thane would spend all of five minutes in the brig before his dad got him out.

"Damn, I hope the old man doesn't step in this time." He kept his voice pitched low so no else heard.

Thane could fight his battles alone. After all, Thad Sorenson made sure to teach his son how … then promptly removed any and all barriers from his path. Shaking his head, Thane frowned. Thanks, Dad.

He didn't ask to be posted to his dad's ship. When the call came through, Thane actually requested a different assignment. No such luck. Random draw, right set of skills, report for duty.

Thane rolled his eyes. "Random draw, my ass." But he'd reported as ordered.

And ran right into Lettie Lang's bad attitude. Argh!

They made the turn down the corridor leading to the brig and Thane's anger kicked up another notch. Lettie waved to the lance corporal behind the desk. Of course she's friends with him.

Thane snorted. "She's in here often enough." He glanced up to find Lettie giving him a pointed look.

Shit. He shrugged and said nothing else while the lance corporal logged Lettie in. She slid her gaze forward again then a wide smirk curved her lips.

Stepping back, she made a show of looking around the empty containment area. "Corporal Gaff, is my favorite cell available?"

He glanced up. "Uh, which one's your favorite?"

Lettie gave him a sweet smile. "Whichever one is the farthest away from Sorenson."

Gaff rolled his eyes then came around to undog the hatch and lead Lettie through. He put her in the first cell then returned to the desk.

He sighed then motioned Thane forward. "All right, Sorenson, you're up." He started typing then paused. "Huh, this is your first visit here." He met Thane's gaze. "Might wanna take a seat. Processing you will take a few."

Thane bit back a growl and took the proffered seat. Gaff pecked around on the keyboard and started entering information. Thane settled back and crossed his arms over his chest then risked a quick look at Lettie. She paced back and forth in the cell, her mouth going nonstop.

Probably a good thing I can't hear what she's saying.

I love writing this couple. The whole enemies because, otherwise, they'd jump each other trope is fun!

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Healing the Wound

Well, it's been a wild and bumpy week. My husband ended up with the flu in the middle of a pandemic. Not a lot of fun for him. The rest of us are trying to take any and all precautions so we don't end up with it also. Bleh.

Finished up a work project and had a little downtime before my next one begins. I'm actually kind of thrilled to have a bit of a break. I normally work every day of the week and having a couple of days off is lovely.

A so-so week of television. I finished up season four of Silent Witness and started on season five.

I also caught another arc of Classic Who. I'm on the second season of Four's tenure. Finishing out the "Terror of the Zygons."

Other than that, I mainly caught some Mystery Alley marathons on Ovation. I needed some background noise while I did a ton of shredding.

Other than that, I'm hoping to finish up Picard this week and maybe get back to Riverdaleand Roswell, New Mexico.

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

Here's the mini-blurb:

Jenna Creed loses the love of her life and blames Thorp Waggoner. She needs to stop living in the past and Thorp wants to be the man she moves forward with, which means Jenna has a very big problem.

And a sneaky peek…

Thorp's back hit the wall. "Oomph." He'd called the need for backup.

Handler had a keen desire to punch Thorp's ticket. Twice, so far, Jenna stopped the brutality of Mick's advanced maneuvers. Thorp didn't know how much longer she'd be able to use the strategic stalling.

"Handler, what the hell? Did we not just talk about using diversionary tactics?" She planted her hands on her hips.

Mick huffed out a breath. "Putting him out of commission is faster."

Jenna rolled her eyes. "Are you trying to miss the point? Your score is lower when you don't use your brain." She marched forward and showed Handler the panel with their tallies. "If you don't cut the aggression out, you'll be off the shit list and actually in the steaming pile." Her voice left no doubt it would totally be his fault, too.

He growled. "Fine. What can I do to bump that mess up?"

Jenna handed him a mock-up of several improvised explosive devices. "Study this for ten minutes then defuse the five bombs. You get extra points if you don't rush." She jabbed her finger toward the work table.

Thorp pushed away from the wall. "Thanks. Not sure why you're acting as the buffer, but it's appreciated." If only he could appreciate her more … like off campus and maybe in a bed somewhere.

Too bad it won't happen anytime soon. No matter how hot Jenna Creed might be, Thorp wouldn't make a move. He'd promised his old man he wouldn't get down with any of his classmates, hence the reason he hooked up with any other available female.

Jenna shrugged. "Mick's gonna make a damned good soldier if he gets out of his own way." She shot Thorp a sideways glance. "He has to work harder than most."

Most meaning Thorp. He pretty much sailed through classes. Didn't hurt he'd been raised on bases all over the galaxy and could probably recite every class's texts in his sleep. Handler came from some rural backwater that had more farm equipment than military machinery. The guy had a gift with anything mechanical though. He struggled with discipline but followed orders without issue. The only thing Handler truly lacked? A military pedigree.

And that became Handler's biggest problem. The guy had a chip on his shoulder. He'd taken one look at Thorp's last name and decided to hate him. No skin off Thorp's hide. Frankly, Thorp didn't care about his last name, other than the doors it opened for him.

Under any other circumstances, Thorp could have been great friends with Mick. Probably still could be if the guy ever realized Thorp didn't have it out for anyone, and didn't use his privilege to rub anyone's face in the dirt. He tried to help people with it instead.

Mick threw his hands up and gave a shout. "Done! Peer review time." He swept his arm over the explosive devices.

Jenna fell into step beside Thorp. They moved to the work table and examined the defused devices. Every single one had been rendered safe and Mick hadn't triggered any of the alerts.

Jenna shook her head. "Geez, Mick. I think you found your calling." She ran the panel over the units, racking up his score.

Thorp slapped him on the back. "Damned good job. I've never seen anyone get a perfect score on every one." He stuck his palm out. "Congratulations."

Mick gave a shrug but clasped Thorp's palm. "Uh, thanks." He shot Jenna a wide grin. "Did I go slow enough for your satisfaction?"

She chuckled. "Yep." Coming around the table, she nudged him with her shoulder. "See … I told you taking your time can have good results." Her eyebrows waggled.

Mick laughed. "That you did." He hugged her. "Let me take you to dinner tonight. As a thank-you."

Thorp gritted his teeth but stayed silent. He had absolutely no claim on Jenna.

She gazed up at Handler. "I'd like that." She flicked her gaze toward Thorp.

He backed away, giving them some privacy to make plans. Jealousy churned in his gut, but he'd needed the reminder. Jenna Creed is off limits until the end of the semester.

Grabbing his gear, he started for the exit. "She'll probably be in love with Handler by then."

I'm excited to get a little more written on this story. I love the dynamic of this trio and I like the turn things are going to take.

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Haven't We Met Like This

Welcome to October, the month with two full moons. Make of that what you will. I had a terrific week. Made a ton of progress on the cleanout and organization. Got a new set of rune stones. Met my two best friends for an evening of fun and laughter. And made headway on a work project.

Not a bad week for television. I watched a lot of Silent Witness. Finished up the third season and started on the fourth. It's shorter than the previous seasons, so I should be ready to start the fifth early this coming week.

Started a new episode of Blue Heelers. Apparently Nick's past has come calling. Not very far into yet but it's an interesting episode.

Watched part of the first episode of Bomb Girls. I'm excited about diving into this series. I've heard some great things about it.

I also watched a bunch of videos about rune casting again. They're very soothing, especially when I'm shredding paper.

Tonight's post is from Haven't We Met Like This, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Reese meets Hallie, his brother's flight school roommate, when he bails her out of hack. Seven years later, they meet under similar circumstances on his father's ship.

And a sneaky peek…

Reese Hennesey knocked on his brother's dorm room door. Alec answered just as he hung up the phone. "Reese, bro, I'm so glad you're here. I've got big trouble."

Reese snorted and stepped inside the room. "When don't you?" Trouble had a way of finding his brother.

Alec waved off the mild insult. "I'm serious, Reese. My roommate Hal just got tagged for being out after curfew and it's my fault." He paced back and forth.

Reese rolled his eyes. "Let me guess. Fudgy brownie cakes."

Alec flushed. "Yeah and I can't leave to bail Hal out. I have to study. I gotta pass finals or dad will have my head." He raked a hand through his hair.

Reese hesitated. He'd had a long flight and this Hal person had to know what going out after curfew could mean. Then again … Reese totally got not wanting to listen to Alec complain about not having his cakes.

Alec stopped his back and forth motion and did the same thing he always did when he needed something. He whined.

"Please, please can you do it?" He grabbed Reese's arms. "Please. You know I'm not as strong as you and dad on flying falcons. If I don't get the written part at close to one hundred percent, I'm done for."

Reese couldn't deny his brother's request. Alec didn't have it wrong. Their dad would flip his shit if Alec didn't pass finals.

He sighed. "Fine. I'll go bail Hal out." He headed for the door to exit but called over his shoulder, "But you'd better thank him when he gets back."

Alec scrambled after Reese. "Wait! Hal's not—"

Reese didn't catch the rest, he'd already hit the steps to leave the dorm and find an auto-teller. His head swam with fuzziness and he wanted to hit his rack.

I'm having a lot of fun with this one. Reese is in for a big surprise when he arrives to bail Hal out.

 

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.

 

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Hart's Masquerade

Terrific week on the great office cleanout! I got a ton of shredding done and cleared out from under my table and desk. I got a great hand-vac that did an awesome job of getting the carpet cleaned up. The cabinet I got to put under my desk fits really well and I'm closer to being sorted and organized! One more cabinet for under my table and three bookcases to go. Okay, not quite true. I still have a major amount of shredding to do and then I have the rest of the finding where to put everything phase. But … I can already notice a big difference in having a semi-clear area to work in. It's amazing!

Kind of a slow week for television. I'm working on a developmental edit that requires a lot of focus so I don't use anything as background noise.

I watched a lot of Silent Witness. I'm well into the third season and I like the cast changes.

I also caught several more rune videos. They're actually quite relaxing as well as informative.

Last but not least, I watched the first season finale of The Witcher. Gotta say, I thoroughly enjoyed it. I rather liked getting a small bit of backstory about Geralt. Also quite impressed by the mages and Yennifer's role in the battle. I've been a little on the fence with her character but she's definitely growing on me.

That's pretty much it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Hart's Masquerade, a Specter Station novella.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Wicek Hart deals in precious gemstones throughout the galaxy and he's the premier wholesale supplier for jewelry boutiques. Nettie Strand is an accomplished jewel thief, but only because she's trying to reclaim her family's stolen property. Wicek smells a setup when Nettie applies for the job as spokesperson for the gala event to be held on Specter Station, his new base of operations, during the Lover's Holiday. Nettie knows the business inside and out and Wicek takes a chance by hiring Nettie, if only to keep a very close eye on her actions.

And a sneaky peek…

Wicek Hart exited his transport ship and grinned when he spotted Juna Newberry, the head of security for Specter Station. "Hello, Juna. Where's your lesser half?"

Mattox Specter called out from behind the ship. "I heard that, you ass." He came around, his hand gliding over the docking cables. "You were right, she's a beauty."

The she he referred to would be the Hart's Desire, Wicek's brand new armored cruiser designed for him to travel in comfort but still maintain and secure his precious cargo … namely lots and lots of gemstones.

But Wicek never resisted the opportunity to twist his friend's words. "And yet none of us can figure out how she ended up with you." The shehe referred to being Juna, Mattox's most definite better half.

Mattox quirked an eyebrow. "She's a woman of very discerning taste." He waited a beat. "Plus I met her first and worked hard to make sure she wouldn't waste her time on my new business partners."

Juna laughed. "She is standing right here and ready to do the secure transfer." Glancing up, she motioned for her second in command to come forward. "Ned, we'll be storing Wicek's collection in the central hub, away from the other collectors' display pieces." She used a scanner to log the case codes and handed the crate off to Ned.

He took the scanner and nodded. "I'll take these to the location and log the time the vault closes. These are the pieces for the live display? The ones for the masquerade?"

Wicek tapped the top of the crate. "That they are. All I need now is to find the perfect spokesperson to make the gems come alive." He met Mattox's gaze. "Did you make any headway on the candidates?"

Ned wheeled the crate out of the landing bay and two armed security personnel fell into step beside him.

Mattox jerked his head toward the transport tube. "We did. Let's talk about it in my office."

Wicek narrowed his gaze but followed the couple into the lift. When they exited and entered the office, Mattox's freakishly efficient AI administrative assistant greeted them.

"Hello, Mattox, Juna. Welcome to your new base of operations, Wicek."

Wicek's lips kicked up in a grin. "Thank you, Wanda." He jumped right into business. "What's kind of challenge am I facing with the spokesperson?" Something about the way Mattox and June changed the subject earlier had his hackles up.

Juna stepped forward. "Wanda, would you show the three candidates?" The holoscreen flashed three images with vital statistics. "I have hard copies for your review, Wicek, but the three applicants meet the criteria you gave—darker looks to complement the jewel tones, experience with gems and the terminologies, and availability for an exclusive contract." She paused and met Mattox's gaze. "Wanna take over?"

Mattox nodded and widened the view of the first woman. "Harley Fein is probably the best candidate but she can only go exclusive for two quarters." The screen shifted and the middle applicant grew larger. "Benita Capman can go exclusive long-term but can't get her until the evening before the gala." He paused and exchanged a look with Juna.

Wicek shook his head. "Challenges to be sure, but what's going on? There's something about the third applicant? What are holding back?"

Juna switched the focus to the third potential spokesperson. "As you know, between Wanda and I, we've got a fairly extensive reach for background information." She brought up a detailed list. "Nettie Strand, at least on the surface, is perfect. She can go exclusive on a long-term basis and she's got degrees in gemology and mineralogy…"

Wicek arched a brow. "But…" Obviously something set off the alerts.

Mattox zoomed in on the list. "She's never been arrested, but Wanda's reports pulled this in." He pointed to a block of information. "Over the last five years, Nettie has been in seven different areas where a major jewel theft has been reported." He stopped, letting the reveal sink in.

Wicek studied the screens. All the women had the look he wanted. The first two, he could probably make concessions for, but he'd rather not if he didn't have to. Nettie Strand … the name pinged for him but he couldn't place why. The idea she might be an accomplished jewel thief gave him pause, but without proof, he couldn't strike her from the list.

Meeting Mattox's gaze, he shrugged. "Let's set up interviews. First thing tomorrow, if possible."

Mattox quirked an eyebrow. "For all three?"

Wicek did a quick gut-check. "Yeah. All three." He'd made a career and a considerable fortune on speculative risks.

Mattox cocked his head. "Okay. Wanda, can you schedule Harley and Bonita for interviews at the earlier time they're available tomorrow?"

Wanda confirmed, "Yes, Mattox."

Wicek held up a hand. "What about Nettie?"

Juna's lips curved. "In her case, you're in luck. Nettie happens to be on station and will be available at your convenience."

I love where this story is going. I'm in the process of brainstorming the scenes and story beats and it's coming together nicely. Can't wait to get this series out into the black.

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Hard Call

September 20, 2020

Kind of a crazy week. Honestly, 2020 can hurry up and be done. Thankfully, only a few more months.

Not a bad week for television. I finished up the first season of Silent Witness and got a running start on the second. I'll have it finished up this week.

I got to catch the behind the scenes video for Dirty, Sexy Saint. Really enjoyed the actors in that movie.

Also started a series of videos about casting runes. It's a topic I've long been interested in and I'm having fun learning about the practice.

Last but not least, I finally got to watch the series finale of Strike Back. There's so much I want to say about this episode! First and foremost, a heist. Seriously. That was actually a lot of fun. The double cross was also a nice little wrinkle. Breaking things down from the beginning. I loved how Coltrane got out of the gulag. Having Wyatt there and their banter was so awesome. I mean, who else but Coltrane would take a detour during a carefully planned escape? And horses! Excellent. Having Novin take on the entire casino security force also proved to be a wild ride. I'm going to miss her a lot. Loved the beats between the characters when she got back to the apartment and almost took out Wyatt.

The heist itself ended up being an awful lot of fun, with the exception of Gracie getting shot. The boat ride out ended up being beautifully filmed. Then, to find out the big reveal about the, well, I guess it's not really a double cross for the section twenty team, more a double cross of the Russians and Albanians and I love the double meaning behind the comment, "They'll never stop looking for us." Anyway … probably in my top five moments is when Coltrane blithely takes Arianna out then strolls nonchalantly past the pool boy. But my favorite moment is at the very end when the trio heads out to go their separate ways. I mean there can't be a heist episode without the going-off-in-different-directions pan out. Very reminiscent of shows like Leverageor Hustle. Good stuff. Seriously good stuff.

Some final thoughts … the only thing I would have loved as much as the actual ending would have been Coltrane finding Zarkova and / or Wyatt and Novin heading out for lots of adventures. The shipper in me will definitely let my imagination run wild on that front.

Also thoroughly enjoyed the Strike Back Declassifiedfor the series end. I love shows that put behind the scenes or inside looks together for their fans. Having those extras is always a lot of fun, especially when the characters have become like second family.

And … that's pretty much it for television. Tonight's post is from Hard Call, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Wiccam Kidder commands a space cruiser and wears the mantle of command with reluctance. When he makes a hard call and orders Valor Glynne to what may be a certain death, he wants to give up the burden and walk away. But Valor returns and Wic is faced with knowing she'll follow wherever he leads.

And a sneaky peek…

Majah snapped to. Valor and Wic didn't. If Cray wanted formality, he'd have announced his docking.

Wic shot his dad a glance. "Got anything better, old man?" He'd like to hear it if he did.

Cray kept his gave level for a moment before meeting first Valor's and then Majah's gaze. "Give us the room." His gruff voice echoed in the small room.

Majah gave a crisp salute before scurrying out.

Valor opened her mouth, but Cray jerked his head. "Don't even." He waved toward the door.

Wic stayed silent, a tactic he'd learned from the elder Kidder. His dad would speak when ready and not before. Besides, Cray would look at the sims and realize they had no other option. They'd run every possible scenario and—

"Wic." Cray's voice cut through the fog. "Find someone else." A note of desperate resolve snuck through.

Wic shook his head. "There is no one else, Dad." No one who had the skill and knowledge and ability to get into the cramped, confined area to plant the bomb.

Cray sliced his hand through the air. "I'll find someone on my ship to—"

Wic cut in. "No, you won't. How's that gonna look? I won't play favorites and neither will you. Morale's already low." Any lower and they'd have a mutiny.

Cray slammed his hand on the planning table. "You're sending her to certain death!"

Wic growled. "You think I don't know that? That I wouldn't give anything to go in her place? But I can't." He couldn't leave this ship without a command officer.

Cray pitched his voice low. "I made a promise to her dad..." He trailed off, unable to continue.

Wic nodded. "I know. To keep her safe. Right before you ordered him to his death." Wic paused but pushed forward. "He was your best friend, Dad, and he knew you might not be able to keep your word." Anyone with military experience would.

Cray frowned. "You don't understand..."

Wic sighed. "Yeah, I do. Why do you think I'd go in her place? But the burden of command means I can't. Something you taught me." A lesson Cray couldn't argue with, no matter how much he'd want to.

Cray's shoulders slumped. "This isn't over." He turned and walked away.

Wic shook his head again. "Believe me, I know." He'd pay for this decision for a long time ... because it would haunt him for the rest of his days.

But at least his father's wrath would fill the huge void losing Valor would leave behind.

I have to say this story is coming together in ways I didn't see happening. I still have a lot of work to do but the bits and pieces are in place and the flow is good.

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Hand of Fate

So far, September is off to a decent start. I finished up a few projects this week and look forward to getting back to the great office reorganization.

Kind of a slow week for television. I watched two episodes of Silent Witness. I don't think I've ever seen the first few seasons with Amanda Burton as Sam Ryan. I started watching somewhere in the later seasons.

I also did the usual Ovation mystery marathons. Rather enjoyed Midsomer Murders because they went all the way back to the beginning. Also left wondering why anyone considers The Librarians a mystery show, but I guess it's because they always have to track down the treasures for the library. Not really mysterious in my book, but it doesn't have to be.

I'm hoping to get back on track with finishing up the previous seasons of Roswell, New Mexico and Riverdale. Also need to watch the season finale of The Witcher and the series finale of Strike Back. I've been putting off Strike Back because I really don't want the show to end.

I need to catch up on Wynonna Earp also. I'll probably end up binge watching the whole season.

That's pretty much it for television. Tonight's post is from Hand of Fate, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Ada Kurtz and Clark Wellington are great at their jobs, and either could pull off an upcoming mission. But when Ada gets injured, she's relegated to the sidelines, planning the operation and calling the shots for Clark. He has to take out an enemy satellite which won't be easy without Ada flying his wing.

And a sneaky peek…

Ada Kurtz kicked the locker in front of her—hard—with her good leg. Why, why, why had she been so stupid? Wiping out on a wet floor?

Rookie mistake.

And she hadn't been a rook for a long time.

Damn Clark for using her as the example of what not to do again. Seemed to be his favorite little treat in the morning briefings. Didn't help he'd added the deal with the fitreps to his repertoire, making notations on her record. Okay, so she'd been a little too heavy on the pranks. Not her fault he made such an easy target. He had to cut her some slack, the intel coming in meant a big op would surely follow. They all let off steam when that happened.   

She should've paid attention to the warning pylons. But no, she'd been so damn pissed off Clark had put her on notice—in written form—she'd blundered right past them. The resulting crash tore several ligaments in her knee and that meant no flying.

Wet floors and anger did not go together. At all.

And a bum knee and the sure to be upcoming mission wouldn't mix either. Especially since she'd been grounded.

Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. Her own stupid fault. If she'd back off and cut Clark some slack, he might not use her as a constant example.

But something about him drew her in. "I can't help myself." The guy rarely let loose and she'd made it her mission to bust through the wall of seriousness he surrounded himself with.

At least when he took her to task, he used humor and always laughed. "Someone with his looks should have more fun." She couldn't fault him for being on point.

He wore responsibility well. His broad shoulders evenly carried the weight. He flew with precision and made it look easy. Which commanded her respect.

So why did she always pick on Clark? "Because the guy makes me nuts … but, good god, there's something about him." Always lurking beneath the surface.

They'd dated for a while … a long time ago. It only lasted about a month. Nothing big. Several group gatherings. Dinner. A big race. They hadn't even made it to sleeping together. She'd been just out of flight school and wanted to keep her options open. She'd been very clear about that and he accepted it. He didn't want to start anything anyway. He shipped out two weeks later.

Now she wondered what if all the time. What if she'd suggested they spend the night together? What if she'd asked to see him on leave? What if they'd done more than send quick updates back and forth over the last two years? Would she be less inclined to seek his attention by misbehaving all the time? Who knew?

Growling in her throat, she figured it might help if she could act older than twelve most of the time.

"Lieutenant?"

Ada turned at the sound of her commander's voice. "Sir."

He glanced at her braced and wrapped knee. "We could use your help in planning and tactics. You up for it?" He very nicely didn't mention the reason behind her injury.

The back and forth between her and Clark could count as almost legendary. The commander had warned them that sooner or later something would give.

Turned out to be her knee.

She gave him a half-hearted nod. What the hell, at least she was good for something.

Grabbing her support cane, she jerked her head toward the hatch. "What're we waiting for? Let's go."

 

This one is very close to being complete. I need to finish up the working draft then get in there and refine everything. Looking forward to getting it ready to launch.

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.

 

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Gut Punch Feeling

September 6, 2020
Hello, September. The great office reorganization is coming along. If all goes well, I might have the bulk of the work complete by the end of the year. I'm very happy with how everything is going so far.
Not a bad week for television. I finished up the Danger Manepisodes that were available. Not sure what I'll start on to replace this one yet.
Caught an episode of Picard and enjoyed it. I'm not quite sure what to make of the guy who's captaining the ship yet. I rather liked getting a little more Ravi backstory.
Watched two more episodes of Peak Practice. I'm getting to the end of the second season and, so far, still enjoying the episodes.
Finished Ms. Fisher's Modern Murder Mysteries. I'd really love to have another season of this show. I feel like the final episode had everyone coming into their own as characters. Maybe we'll get lucky.
Caught another arc of Classic Who. I think I might be ready to start the next season or I'm getting close.
That's it for this week. Tonight's post is from Gut-Punch Feeling, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.
Here's the mini-blurb:
Evie Roth, a soldier explorer, keeps her promises. But when a sinister plot threatens those she loves, especially Parr Romanoff, she'll break a vow she made long ago … to herself.
And a sneaky peek…
Evie woke up and everything that happened rushed back at her.Groaning, she flung an arm over her head. "What the hell was I thinking … kissing Parr like that?" She rolled out of her rack and snagged her shower kit.Parr had someone. A good woman. One Evie would probably like a lot if she didn't have what Evie wanted.Entering the head, she shook off the jealous thought. "I need to take the high road and let him he happy." He'd tried to do the same for her.And look where she ended up. Nursing a bruised ego, a crushed spirit, and a really hard knock to her confidence. Rinsing off, she steeled her spine. Nope. That was yesterday.Today, she had a new journey. "Time to get started." Drying off and getting into a uniform, she exited the head and put her kit away.The chow line moved quickly and she wolfed down her usual breakfast of scrambled eggs, a bowl of fruit, and two cups of coffee. "A solid eight hours, a hot shower, and grub. Might as well face my biggest obstacle." Meaning Parr.She could and would be the soldier he needed her to be. Nothing more and definitely nothing less. No more games.Making her way to the command station, she sucked in a breath and ducked through a doorway when she spied Carol leaving the hub. Pushing down a flash of hurt, Evie waited until the intelligence officer caught up with her aide then turned down the next corridor. Eventually, Evie would be able to make nice, but not today.Heading into the command area, she quickly found Parr, sitting at his desk. He glanced up when she knocked on the door to the office. Putting an open file aside, he waved her in.She skipped the preliminaries. "Where did you want me on the duty roster?" She injected as much enthusiasm as possible into her tone.Parr's eyebrows arched. "Do you want a few days? You've earned some downtime to regroup." He narrowed his eyes, studying her.She'd love a few days, if she could spend them with him. She finally wanted the life he offered a long time ago. A little too late. And she couldn't be around Parr and Carol right now, even if she wished them the best.She shook her head. "No, I'd like to stay busy." Preferably out in the field, but she didn't share that thought.Parr angled his head, gazing in her direction for several long moments. Questions burned, she had no doubt, but he thankfully didn't ask any.Grabbing a weathered satchel, he set it on the edge of his desk. "If you're up for it, you could head out to the perimeter and get the battle reports." He met her gaze.Evie flashed a big smile. "Sounds like a plan. I'll get packed up and head out within the hour." She reached for the satchel.Parr's hand snagged hers. "Are you sure, Evie?" Tenderness lurked in his eyes. "You're allowed to grieve what you lost." He let go, giving her some space.Evie hooked the satchel over her shoulder. "I'm sure, Parr. Getting back to work, getting out there, will help me do just that." She turned and waved over her shoulder.Because she would be grieving … but not for losing Steven.
I'm all over the place with this story but it's finally starting to come together. This couple is a challenge but very fun to write.


That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.
ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Guarded Chance

Final Sunday of August. I'm kind of looking forward to the fall season even if it's going to very different. With a global pandemic and an election coming up, I don't think it'll be the lovely season I always look forward to. That said, cooler temperatures will be welcome. Even though it hasn't been overly hot this summer, I really love the crisp air of fall.
Had a decent week of office reorganization and not a bad one for television viewing, considering I had no power for twenty-one hours thanks to a thunderstorm with wicked nasty lightning. A tree not far from our house got struck and it took out a couple of pole transformers. We were really lucky that we caught a break from the heat of the day before.
Not a bad week for television viewing but not great either. I caught an episode of Peak Practice and enjoyed it. I'm halfway through the second season.
Watched the third episode of Ms. Fisher's Modern Murder Mysteries and it's definitely my favorite of the four episodes. I love the sci-fi feel and the background with Bertie.
Caught the Classic Who run of Genesis of the Daleks arc. I've seen this group of episode before and enjoyed them. It's especially fun because New Who brought in big tie-in to these episodes.
Also watched another episode of Danger Man. I'm on the last two available on Amazon, which makes me sad.
That's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Guarded Chance, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.
Here's the mini-blurb:
Echo Dart, a brilliant soldier but hot mess of a woman, becomes a captive of the enemy who try to recondition her for their purposes. During the process she realizes there's only one person who has ever touched her soul, Race Markinton. But she's already burned the relationship bridge with Race and once she's free, she has to figure out how to make amends or lose him for good.
And a sneaky peek…
Echo followed the twisted and confusing path of hallways, hitting a dead end three times before she got herself headed in the right direction. The eerie silence and lack of personnel explained by the swiveling cameras she avoided with training and stealth. She turned yet another corner and found herself … stuck.Completely, utterly stuck. She'd made it out of the stupid maze of corridors, navigated around the blasted motion detectors only to hit a brick wall. Literally. The doors might be smooth, clear glass, but they looked at least six inches thick. And she knew they'd be reinforced with some high tech material she'd never be able to pronounce."Dammit, dammit, dammit. Now what?" Giving up, she sank to the floor, resting her head on her knees.No way would she go back. When the staff found her, they'd have to kill her. She did not have the drive to hold out anymore.Lifting her head, she gazed through the doors. So damned close. At least she'd see the sun and sky, green leafy trees ones last time. Hell, even the prickly scrub brush surrounding the complex looked good.She rolled her eyes. "Geez, how lame." She shook her head, letting it rest on the wall behind her.So tired, yet she didn’t want to sit still. Loathe to give up the view of the outside, she kept her eyes trained on the doors. The illusion of freedom, almost within her reach, acted as a comforting balm.Echo caught a flash of movement outside the perimeter of the clearing. "Wait … that can't be right." Another flash, barely perceptible, but there nonetheless. "What the hell?" Scrabbling on her knees, she got up close to the door, squinting against the sunlight spilling through.Holy hell … a lone figure, a man, stealthily made his way toward the compound. Criminy … it couldn't be—oh, yes, it could—tears pricked behind her eyelids. A wave of emotion almost knocked her back."Race."Race had come for her.He edged closer, taking cover behind the plentiful sage brush with each forward move. Reaching the wire mesh fence surrounding the clearing, he climbed up and over, avoiding the nasty barbs at the top. His long legs ate the space between the barrier and the building with a mad dash across. Echo almost felt his back hit the bricks when he reached the wall.Tears streaming, unbidden, down her cheeks, she actually laughed when he ducked around to look inside and his jaw dropped. He hadn't expected to find her practically waiting on his arrival. Why would he?He blinked and recovered quickly, moving to stand in front of the glass. His eyes scanned for surveillance equipment. Finding none, he placed a hand on the door and Echo's rose to meet it.Six inches. The only thing separating them … physically. The rest … well, who knew? God, he looked good. Tired, ragged, but so damned good. A feast for her eyes.Race didn't bother trying the door. Digging into his vest pocket, he motioned for her to take cover and stuck a small incendiary device in the center of the clear surface. Echo moved several yards away, turned and ducked down, covering her head with her hands.The explosion barely registered before Race scooped her up and carried her over the shattered glass and out to freedom. The palpable relief hit her so strongly she almost blacked out. Race's lips brushed over her hair, his strong arms holding her close. Echo clung, longer than necessary, but God, he felt so solid and real she couldn't help it. And for once she understood the notion of taking strength from someone else. Training kicked in and she wriggled down, ready to run.Making sure she was steady, his lips quirked. "Figures you pretty much rescued yourself. You never cease to amaze, Echo."She let out a shaky laugh. "Yeah, well, I didn't much like the company." Her gazed dropped and she hoped she hid the pain and uncertainty from him.Race lifted her chin and gave her long look, but he didn’t push. They had to get moving. He silently led the way, dropping proximity mines behind them. Reaching the fence, Echo started to climb, uncaring if the metal shredded her bare feet. Raced tugged her down and quickly cut through the mesh, shoving her through and following once she got clear. He walked fifty yards due east, her hot on his heels, then stopped and uncovered a rucksack. Reaching inside, he pulled out a pair of boots, socks stuffed inside, and a set of fatigues.The damn man thought of everything. Using hand motions and a quiet voice, Race told her where to find the egress point in case they got separated. Fat chance of that. She stuck to him like glue.Weak from the ordeal, the hike away from the compound took its toll, but Echo managed to hold it together. Shoving the haunting memories of the past aside, she refused to think about anything but the broad shoulders and hard ass in front of her. And not in a sexual way. The hard body represented her freedom and she wouldn't quit on Race now. He'd risked his life to come for her. That had to mean something. And she finally wanted to have a long overdue conversation about what.
This story is taking some interesting twists and I'm completely here for them. I like it sages throw something unexpected into the mix.


That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.
ML Skye