Sunday, October 25, 2015

Sunday Snippet: Elective Campaign

WooHoo! Halloween is almost here! I love the fall holiday and even plan to decorate my all-year-round tree with some cool lights and creepy ribbon. I'm even planning to do a Thanksgiving themed tree if time doesn't get away from me. LOL

Television round up this week… not bad overall. I totally stayed away from discussing The Walking Dead, mainly because I didn't want to spoil anyone and I couldn't talk about the show without going into detail. I'll take a moment to say I LOVE how this season is kicking off and leave things there.

As always, I'm thrilled with how The Flash and Arrow are progressing. I thoroughly enjoy the alternate Flash and I like how Thea's time in the pit is being handled. Really interested to see how Sarah's resurrection plays out. (Hint… she'll be fine… eventually).

Agents of SHIELD continues to intrigue me. I have several theories floating around in my head about how things will play out, and I'm actually loving how many different storylines are being addressed. Keep it up!

Gotham and Sleepy Hollow are on my catch up list. Last week's schedule went off the rails so I'm watching both shows on demand.

Lost Girl and The Murdoch Mysteries are also staying excellent. And I started a new show called The Romeo Section that has me very interested. I'll keep everyone posted on how I fare with that one.

Finally, Doctor Who… eh. Seriously, I'm seeing so many people rave about the new season and I'm really not feeling it. The fandom theory that Ashildr will end up being Missy and the Doctor created the Master doesn't work for me. However, there is one way I could get behind the concept… Missy isn't a regeneration of the Master, but she decided to play the role. That might be an interesting twist.

Anyway, TV update for the week is over.

Tonight's post is from Elective Campaign, a novella where my main characters lose the battle of fighting their attraction.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Mac is running for reelection and needs a logistical planner on his roster to win. Yancy has the training and background but she presents a problem… Mac is very attracted to her. They fight the pull but give in and once it's discovered, he might lose more than the election.

And a snippety peek…

Mac Davison settled back in his chair and heaved a sigh. "You're sure Steve is going to retire?" He didn't begrudge the man's decision, but the timing couldn't be worse to lose his logistics manager.
Tyler nodded. "Yeah. And he knows the move is going to leave you in a bad position for re-election." His campaign manager and best friend settled into the seat across the desk. "Stewart's got thirty years and a previous reign as mayor to work from and launch his platform."
Mac snorted. "Said stint in office left the city almost bankrupt and took two other decent guys winning to put to rights." He snagged the petition signature list from his top drawer. "The top twenty-five names will the cronies who back him financially and he'll want to repay their loyalty by making one of the logistics manager."
Steve knew the city inside and out, kept everything running smoothly and had a plan for the expansion of services.
Tyler agreed. "None with Steve's experience and know-how. I'd give it less than six months before the entire operation is a total mess." He steepled his fingers. "And less than nine for Stewart to start lining his pockets again by diverting funds to his 'special programs'."
Stewart Jackman would effectively rape the city's coffers and ignore the opportunities the revitalization of the lake quadrant could bring to their collective doorstep.
Mac slapped a hand on the desk. "Dammit. I don't want to lose the momentum we've built with the parks and rec renovation and expansion, the big homecoming weekend celebration, and the new vacation trade we've drawn from the lake quadrant project." He'd spearheaded those projects and wanted to add a few more.
Tyler shook his head. "Look, Mac. No one says you're going to lose. People do know you're the one who got things moving with the vacation trade. We're close to the lake shore, but far enough away to keep prices reasonable." His lips curved. "I don't think there was an empty B&B, cabin, or rental home the entire past two summers."
Mac nodded. "And that's not including the two hotels and three motels. Sandy Beckman told me the conference bookings are up year round at her location." He pinned Tyler with his gaze. "The Christmas festival is gaining traction, giving businesses an extra push at the end of the year."
Tyler started jotting notes on his legal pad. "See… that's something to build on with your campaign."
Mac heaved a sigh. "Except without a logistics manager, who's going to make sure we've got adequate parking available for bigger crowds? Or the budget to add extra sanitation and police presence to cover the week-long shindig? Those are necessary details."
Tyler shrugged. "Your new logistics manager? You need to put the word out now, before Steve makes it official. I can clear channels and make sure he understands you're not pushing him to leave sooner, but trying to replace the irreplaceable."
Mac grinned. "Your spin-doctoring skills are unmatched, my friend. I'm glad you're on my side." He opened up his laptop. "I'll get started on the job posting now and forward it to you to get Steve's input." With any luck, he'd have the man's help with the hiring process, too.
Tyler stood up. "Sounds the beginning of a plan." He crossed the office to the door. "Next time… you're picking up lunch before we have an impromptu meeting."
Mac frowned. "Yeah, sorry about that." He flashed a grin. "Next time, bring me better news and I won't be so distracted."
Tyler chuckled. "Deal." He left the office and whistled an off-key tune.
Mac shook his head again. He'd need a lot of luck to find someone and have them in place before the election. And maybe a touch of intervention from fate.

Mac is about to get his fondest wish… but the other shoe doesn't take long to drop.



That's it for this week. Happy reading!


Skylin

Sunday, October 18, 2015

Sunday Snippet: Drowning Pull

I can't quite believe half of October is over. Yeesh, time flies in a big way. LOL

My usual television ramblings will get underway after a brief pause to let everyone know I'm still not feeling this season of Doctor Who. The reason behind the 'repeat' face, so far, is beyond lame. I'll have to watch the conclusion to see if I still feel the same way.

I finally watched the last two episodes *ever!* of Strike Back. I can safely say I'm thrilled with how Stonebridge and Scott's story ended. YAY!!! Now I'll have to start a rewatch of the entire series. LOL

Arrow and The Flash are keeping me glued to the screen. I love both shows so much. And Agents of SHIELD isn't doing too bad either. I like where things are going there.

Gotham and Sleepy Hollow are maintaining solid episodes. Looking forward to seeing where Gotham takes the Bruce in Training story. I'm also really excited to see how Gordon keeps all the plates spinning in his life. On a side note, I am a little sick of Barbara but I have a feeling her story might pay off in a big way. I'll keep watching.

Got caught up on Haven. I'm really going to miss this show when it's gone. I love the every quirky thing about it. The same goes with Lost Girl. I'm dying to see how Bo's story ends, but I'm savoring every moment I get to watch.

And that's the TV wrap up this week.

Tonight's post is from Drowning Pull, a novella where my characters need to overcome some issues.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Lane Addison drowns his grief over losing his brother in alcohol, until a blonde distraction sits down beside him. Injured and off the circuit, Weslee decides to have a pity party for one until she sees someone deeper in the well than she is. A hot hook-up later, Lane thinks he's found the perfect woman in Weslee, until she mentions her fiancé.

And a snippety peek…

Lane Addison woke up slowly, his head throbbing and his vision fuzzy. The room came into focus—not his. Where the hell had he ended up last night? Thinking made his brain hurt, but he tried to back trace his steps. A vague memory of being in O'Halloran's pub started taking shape. Then a vision of Lori James formed. She wore a clinging black dress and sat across the table, sipping on something, probably a drink that ended in 'tini.
Why on earth would he have been drinking with Lori?
The reason hit him. Hard. And the pounding head and blurry vision got worse. The two sensations battled with the bone-deep ache of loss, striking him full force once more.
Liam's funeral, his life over too soon. Lane's brother wouldn't come strolling through the fire department on Lane's next shift. Killed in the line of duty when a three-alarm fire turned into a five-alarm catastrophe, the department had lost a great man. And Lane didn't want to accept he'd never see his brother again.
A warm body rolled over and snuggled up against Lane. Lori. Vague snatches of the previous day and night flashed through his mind. His divorced parents, being civil to each other for the first time in years, put aside their many differences to mourn the loss of their son. The long line of friends, family, and members of the fire service forming a long line, waiting to offer their condolences. Lane listened to so many stories about his brother from so many people. Nothing brought out the narrative genius than remembering one of the fallen. Lori, slithering into the service, gluing herself to Lane's side, held court, accepting hugs and handshakes like she belonged with the immediate family.
He had a clear picture of her dragging him from Liam's graveside and driving him to O'Halloran's. From there, events went a little fuzzy. Copious amounts of alcohol did nothing to ease the pain of Liam's death. He had no idea when they left the pub, but they'd ended up back at her place. He figured odds were on a night of sex—not that he remembered any of it—and probably expectations of a morning repeat.
His stomach rebelled at the thought.
Or maybe the alcohol gave him the queasy, nauseous feeling.
Lori yawned, stretched, and smoothed her hand down his torso to cup his flaccid dick. The urge to heave got stronger and before she could get any bright ideas of getting him hard, he flung himself out of the bed and made a dash for the bathroom. Emptying the contents of his stomach in the toilet eased the rolling in his belly, but made the headache take a vicious turn for the worse. Easing away from the commode, he leaned against the tub, keeping his eyes closed, inhaling and exhaling slowly.
Puking his guts up made him thirsty and he chanced trying to stand so he could find something to drink. Maybe if he kept his eyes closed he could still make his way to the sink. A cool hand grasped his elbow and Lane blinked to find Lori holding a glass of orange juice, a wet washcloth, and a toothbrush.
She didn't speak, but handed him the scrap of fabric first. The cold cloth felt awesome against his clammy skin. He scrubbed his face and neck, leaving the rag at his nape. He glanced in the mirror and groaned. Shit would look better than he did at the moment. He dropped the washcloth on the side of the sink.
Lori broke her silence. "I know it'll taste terrible, but toothbrush before OJ." She handed him the toothbrush. "Coffee's brewing, but you need some vitamin C and aspirin first."
While he took care of his teeth, she grabbed a bottle of tablets from the medicine cabinet. She shook out four and handed them over with the orange juice.
He didn't argue, scarfing the tablets and orange juice together. After draining the glass, he felt almost human again.
Giving her the cup, he nodded. "Thank you." Making his way through her bedroom, he looked around for his clothes.
The suit pants were by the bedroom door. He slowly bent down and picked them up. Tossing the pants over his shoulder, he spotted his shirt on the back of her couch. He snatched it up and shrugged his arms into the garment, leaving the buttons undone. His jacket lay in a heap by the main entrance. He'd grab it on his way out.
Making his way into the kitchen, he braced his hips on the counter and carefully put his pants on. The coffee finished brewing by the time he zipped and buttoned up. Out of habit, he poured two mugs, adding two sugars to one and cream to the other. Lori came in, a silky robe billowing out behind her. She grabbed the sweetened mug and took a sip. Lane drank his milky brew and tried not to think about Liam or being at his ex's place. He failed on both counts.
Lori popped some bread in her toaster. "You know, the Tinderbox is looking for product managers. You could fill out an application online." She crossed over to the fridge and grabbed butter and jelly. "Or, if you want to stay in the industry, I heard Parma Medical is always looking for sales reps who know the equipment." The toast popped up and she buttered the slices. "Of course, you'll want to take some time, I'm sure, to consider all your options." Spreading jelly on the surface, she shot a look over her shoulder.
Lane blinked, trying to follow the conversation. She sounded like a recruiter, which okay, she would. She worked as the HR director for the local hospital. But what options did he need to consider? The Tinderbox sold woodstoves, fireplaces, and everything to do with both. And yeah, his experience in the fire service would make project management a snap, but no way. Same applied to a sales position. Lane wanted to sell emergency medical equipment like he wanted to jab a fork in his eye. He didn't.
He drained his coffee mug. "I'm not interested in a new job, Lori. I like the one I have perfectly fine." Out of habit, he rinsed his cup out and put it in her dishwasher.
Lori took a bite of toast, chewed, and swallowed. "You're staying with the department? After what happened with Liam?" She put the food down, dusting off her hands. "Are you fucking insane? Of course, you're going to find another job."
Lane exhaled on a slow breath, thankful he barely remembered the sex from the night before, because the memory of why he and Lori broke up smacked him right in the face. His job. He loved being a firefighter and Lori hated it.
Lane shoved his hands in his pockets. "No, I'm not. I'm damned good at what I do and have no plans to quit." He shoved away from the counter and started doing the buttons up on his shirt. "I should go." He wouldn't get back on her crazy 'if you love me, you'll do something else' train. "Thanks for last night, Lori, but we're not together anymore. Don't forget that."
Lori's mouth thinned to a flat line. "That's how you're going to play this, Lane? Get me drunk, sleep with me, then slam out the door?" Her nostrils flared. "You're an ass."
Lane had a brief flash of memory from the previous night. Lori kept the drinks coming, not him. And she suggested they head to her place afterwards.
He tucked his shirt in his pants. "And you're still the queen of manipulating facts to suit your needs." Exiting the kitchen, he made his way to her front door.
Reaching down, he gathered up his coat, happy to find his shoes underneath. Jamming his feet inside the footwear, he yanked the door open.
Turning, he gave her one last comment. "I won't be slamming your door, but I won't be back either." He stepped out into the corridor and gently closed the carved wood behind him.

Gotta say, this one is coming together nicely. I really like the way the characters are interacting.



That's it for this week. Happy reading.


Skylin

Sunday, October 11, 2015

Sunday Snippet: Drag Out the List

Okay… getting right to the television part of my post.

The Flash and Arrow premiered!!! Both had excellent season openers. I kind of love where everything is headed and can't wait for this week's episodes. *EEP*

And I'm totally NOT freaking out over whose graveside Oliver and Barry were standing beside. Nope. I'm not. I know who I'd kind of like it to be, but I'll hold off and not speculate too much. LOL

Gotham and Sleepy Hollow had terrific episodes, too. I missed the opener for Sleepy Hollow and still need to watch, but the second ep has me intrigued already.

I also need to watch the double dose of Haven so I'm caught up on that one, too. I've started watching the final episodes of Lost Girl and Strike Back. Two shows I wish didn't have to end. *sniffles*

The conclusion to Doctor Who's two-parter didn't exactly cement the show as awesome for me, so we'll see how things continue. It's still good television so I'll still watch.

But… the best thing of the week? The Walking Dead premieres!!! So looking forward to tonight's episode!!

And that's it for TV. I thought I might do a rambly post about Arrow and The Flash, but you know, they would get a little too spoilery if I attempted to do so.

Tonight's post is from Drag Out the List, a novella where my heroine gets firsthand knowledge of my hero's mental checklist.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Velma and Kade have loads of sexual tension, but Velma keeps him at arm's length. Kade gets the why, but when she pushes him a little too far he turns the tables on her and she ends up in a compromising position—number seventeen on his list.

And a snippety peek…

Velma Arndt glanced out the front window of her beachwear shop and groaned. "Dammit. That can't be the new owner of Ice Caps."
Tall, broad-shouldered, and ripped, the guy had short, dark hair, a well-defined back, and powerful legs if the way he climbed a ladder could be considered anything to go by. Velma fanned her face and continued observing the prime specimen of man working next door to her business. He moved with fluid grace, hanging a new awning to provide shade over the main entrance. His beat-up cargo shorts hung low on his hips, but his ass filled out the rear in a pleasing way. Her eyes slid shut and a sexy image of stripping his shorts off to get a good look at the sculpted globes of flesh had another groan rumbling in her chest.
She turned away from the window. "Geez. I need to find a studly, single tourist and have my wicked way with him." Scratch the itch and carry on.
Hmmm. Maybe the sexy guy hadn't bought the ice cream parlor and only came to do the initial work to get the place ready to reopen. Man, she couldn't get that lucky, could she?
She sure as hell wanted to find out.
Making her way to the front of her shop, she propped the door open and walked outside, shielding her hand from the afternoon sun. If possible, he looked even better without the tinted glass of her windows distorting the view. Mid-thirties by her guess and his hair had streaks of golden brown, lightened by the sun. God, he hit all her hot spots. Please let him be a subcontractor for the new owner.
Velma strolled over, watching him finish with the awning. "Looks great. I love the colors." The bold stripes looked colorful against the pale yellow exterior of the store.
The man swung down from the ladder. "Thanks. Figured it would be noticeable for at least a couple of blocks." He grabbed his shirt from the back side of the ladder and shrugged it over his head.
Much to Velma's disappointment. His droolworthy abs should come with a warning sign—please don't forget a towel.
He stuck his hand out. "Kade Valdossi. I just bought the place from Jim and Dee." He flashed a warm smile.
Velma's heart sank, but she grasped his palm. "Velma Arndt. I'm next door." A zing of awareness shot up her arm. "Nice to meet you." Oh, why did he have to be so damned attractive.
Kade quirked an eyebrow. "You're the sweet, little thing the Rubens raved about?" His mouth curved again. "They didn't tell me you were gorgeous, too."
Velma cracked a smile. "Jim and Dee were great. I hope they're going to enjoy Arizona." The couple decided to try their luck in a drier climate. "Do you plan to live here year-round?"
Kade nodded. "Yep. Moved everything out from Ohio. Lived on the Lake Erie and wanted to stay close to water." He folded up the ladder and stashed it inside the entrance. "Looks like we'll be neighbors… as soon as I get my furniture moved in."
The shops on their strip of beach had residences built-in behind the stores. Most were fairly small, usually a bedroom, bathroom, kitchenette and small living room set up in a studio style apartment, but this block had expanded units, two or three bedrooms with a separate kitchen, bathroom, and larger living area. Each place also had a patio with privacy fences and small garages facing the alley. For owners who lived beachside year-round, the convenience proved immeasurable.
Velma glanced inside the ice cream parlor. "When do you reopen?" The season wouldn't officially start for another month, but he'd be surprised how busy the locals would keep him.
Kade motioned her to follow him into the store. "I'm thinking sometime next week. The interior only needed a few updates—Jim and Dee took great care of the place—and my first delivery arrives this weekend." He nodded toward the back of the shop. "The apartment needs a little more work, but I have new appliances coming tomorrow so at least I'll be able to cook and keep up with laundry while I'm renovating." He paused and laughed. "I'm kind of excited. I'm tired of eating out all the time—which probably sounds stupid, considering I'm in the business."
Velma chuckled. "Actually, it doesn't sound stupid. It sounds normal."
Velma liked Kade. She wouldn't use him for a booty call, but she could be a good neighbor and invite him to dinner. And no, she absolutely wouldn't be tempted to break her number one rule and get involved with him. Zing of attraction, raging lust, or not.
She met his gaze. "Since you're tired of restaurant fare, why don't you drop by tonight for dinner. I'm planning to do some chicken on the grill and I've got plenty." She'd whip up a salad and maybe add some pineapple to the menu, too.
Kade tilted his head to one side. "I'd love to. What time?" His eyes traveled over her from head to toe.
She warmed under the scrutiny, but hoped it didn't show. "Seven? I'm open until six on weekdays during the off season." She turned to head over to her shop. "Come around back. I'll be on the patio." With a smile and a wave, she ducked out of the ice cream parlor and darted back into her store.
Her heart pounded with excitement and dread. She had to be crazy to start down a path that might end up with complicated roadblocks. And yeah, they'd be her hurdles, but she had damned good reasons for not getting tangled up with relationships. But Kade had an air of decency that drew her in. And the smokin' hot looks didn't hurt either.
God, what an idiot she'd become.
Reaching for her phone, she scrolled through her contacts and hit send. Two rings later, her best friend answered. "Howie… I need a favor. Can you come over for dinner tonight?"
Howie to the rescue, but the sages tell me he's going to have a ringside seat to his best friend's struggle to remain impassive to Kade and Howie will enjoy the show. LOL



That's it for this week. Happy reading!


Skylin

Sunday, October 4, 2015

Sunday Snippet: Down the Middle

Happy October!

So, after going off on a tangent last week about my 'blah' feeling for the new season of Doctor Who, I can't say my impression has changed, but I did enjoy this week's episode better. So there's that. *grin*

Gotham is kicking some big time butt so far. I like the rather darker edge it opened with and actually can't wait to see this week's episode. I missed the Sleepy Hollow premiere, so I need to catch up on that one ASAP.

And the best news! The Flash and Arrow are back this week!! And I truly hope nothing tries to get in the way of me and my TV those two night. LOL

So… probably a long ramble about television next week. But on to tonight's post.

Down the Middle is a novella where my heroine doesn't want help, but can't refuse.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Bounty hunter Ursa Goode always gets her man… if Jake Weatherwax doesn't beat her to him. But when a target escapes and comes after her, Ursa has to take Jake up on his offer to work together and split the reward right down the middle. The need for a partner rubs her wrong, but Jake definitely doesn't.

And a snippety peek…

Breaking news. It's been reported that Llewellyn Cavil escaped custody during a transfer to his permanent facility for the mentally impaired. He's to be considered armed and dangerous and any sightings should be reported to the sheriff's department immediately.
Ursa Goode rolled out of bed and grabbed her phone. A sick feeling of dread and a hot kick of rage filled her when she scrolled through her contacts and hit send. She fought to stay in the present and not let her mind get stuck in the past. She wouldn't throw up. She would not. Would not. Would. Not.
Her handler, Rob Morse, picked up on the third ring. "Urse? I take it you heard the news?" He never minced words or made small talk.
Ursa appreciated the directness. "Yeah. I'm in. And you'd better keep the path clear. I want Cavil." She waited a beat. "And you know he's going to want me." The goddamned maniac always would.
Rob sighed. "I had a feeling you'd be wound up and half-cocked. My phone hasn't stopped ringing since he escaped—"
She cut him off. "Dammit, Rob. Why the hell didn't you call me when you found out?" Instead of letting her hear it on the news.
He didn't respond. Didn't have to. Her brain only needed a quick second to process.
She blew out a breath. "Right. Phone hasn't stopped. You've been fielding calls." A painful throb started between her eyes and she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Sorry. Shit. You know my mouth works faster than my brain sometimes." Try all the time, but she always got the job done.
Sometimes in the messiest way possible and Llewellyn Cavil had been the biggest cluster fuck of her entire career. The man taught her everything she knew about bounty hunting—by holding her captive for three weeks. She managed to escape his clutches then turned the tables by bringing him in. For seven years, he'd dragged his case through the courts, convincing everyone he had a diminished mental capacity. No way in hell. The guy had a genius IQ. But did being highly intelligent stop him from being bat shit insane? Absolutely not.
Rob finally broke the silence. "Urse, I'll do what I can. Hell, I already have by calling off most of the smaller crews." He paused a moment. "But you know Gaffington is going to bring someone in. And you know who they'll call."
Fuck. Yeah, she did.
Jake Weatherwax.
Gaffington Incorporated had a lot of money invested in Llewellyn Cavil. Mainly because of a family connection. Whether Llewellyn proved to be guilty or not, protecting the corporate image by keeping as much information out of the media ranked high on their list. And Jake almost always got quick results.
Ursa growled. "I'm not letting Weatherwax take the tag on this one. Cavil's mine."
Rob huffed out a sigh. "I want you to be careful, Urse. Llewellyn feels the same way about you being his. Don't forget that."
Ursa would use Cavil's obsession against him. "I know. I'm counting on that fact." She got up, crossed to her dresser and dragged out a pair of pants, a tank top, and her weapon of choice—a four-inch blade. "If I go dark for a couple of days, don't worry. I'll check in when I can." Cutting the call before Rob could sputter and spew cautions, she tossed her phone on the dresser and ducked into the bathroom.
Twisting her hair up on top of her head, she stripped off her pajamas then went back in the bedroom, dressed quickly, got her gear—the knife and her phone—and made a quick exit from her sublet basement apartment. Walking up to street level, she took a right and strolled down the road, stopping to grab some coffee from the Java CafĂ© truck two blocks up. Glancing around, she figured she had twenty-four hours before Llewellyn made a move.
And before Jake Weatherwax could butt in and muck things up.
Ursa bites off way more than she can chew. Maybe having Jake show up won't be such a bad thing.



That's it for this week. Happy reading!


Skylin