Effing Feline is out of the bag #wewriwa

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I, Effing Feline, am getting double catnip this week. Mew mew! Why? Because I’m the official emcee who is to announce the winner of the poll to choose the name of Ed’s next book! (You didn’t vote? Well, tough furballs. It’s too late.)

Human emcees use envelopes to hold the results. Cats, in their superior wisdom, use bags, hence the phrase ‘let the cat out of the bag.’

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Courtesy Pinterest

I’ll tell you the new title after this word from our sponsor — namely, Ed’s latest sci fi rom. A woman currently calling herself Lou was a secretary for a business that was a front for a spy team. The team has abandoned her, trapped and fearful, on Farflung Space Station, which orbits a planet inhabited by her home world’s enemies.

Lou gulped down a breath. Regardless of how frightened she felt, how hopeless, she put one foot in front of the other and trudged down the corridor. Sometimes it seemed that slogging along, no matter what, was her only skill in life.

Moving just her eyes, she looked at a tiny circle high on the corridor wall: a surveillance camera. Reminded of her day’s one moment of success, she smiled.

A space station technician named Bahadur had bought her dinner, hoping for sex, and despite her puritanical upbringing she’d been tempted. Not because he was attractive or charming. He was okay-looking rather than handsome, not fat though he needed to lose weight, bashful rather than a smooth operator. Just an ordinary guy, really, at a dark moment when ordinary was panty-lubing fantastic.

Then he started bitching about murderous Proximanians, so she walked away, one foot in front of the other.

Effing Feline here again. Without further ado, The Cat Is Out Of The Bag!

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Be sure to visit the other great writers in Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday. And and feel free to critique this snippet, as it’s unedited.

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Love thy Galactic Enemy

Abandoned to the enemy’s tender mercy

Minta, the reserved secretary for a spy team that spread a man-made plague, leaves the planet too late — the team abandons her on the enemy’s space station. She’s forced to fend for herself until she can make contact with an elusive spy, Watcher, who can take her home. To avoid arrest, she nurses a plague victim — a gentle, whimsical man who spouts Lewis Carroll. But to know this enemy is to love him . . .

When Finn Shanwing falls ill, he doesn’t intend to hide that he’s actually a high-ranking cyborg warrior. Neither does he intend to fall in love with the secretive nurse who saves his life . . . but by the time he reveals to Minta she saved an enemy commando, it’s too late for his heart. Or hers. Also too late to escape the wrath of Watcher — half-human, half-machine, and both halves obsessed with her.