Sunday Snippet: Green-Eyed Monster

Well… The Walking Dead returned with a killer episode. Holy zombies, so much happened. LOL I didn't know what to really expect and lowered my expectations but color me surprised by how incredible the episode ended up being. Although, why is no one talking about how Carol is pretty much responsible for wiping out a whole family? *grins* Not quite how it went down, of course, but something to ponder.

Forgot to mention The X-Files last week for my Monday night lineup. I, for one, have really been enjoying the six-episode run. Final ep airs tomorrow and I actually rather hope we'll see another six or eight episode arc in the future. Wouldn't mind seeing a few more familiar faces either.

The other Monday shows were suitably excellent. I'm staying interested in The Magicians and kind of love the various sides we're seeing. Also thrilled to see Lost Girl and Bitten. But I watch with sadness, knowing they're each in their final seasons.

Tuesday's The Flash ended up being terrific. I'm kind of amazed the earth two turned out so well. Looking forward to seeing more from that verse, if there is more. Also really want to see what the whole deal with Jay is. Agent Carter's final episode airs this week and the lead up to the finale turned out awesome. I really hope Peggy gets to punch Vernon in the face at least once. Twice would totally make the entire wait for a season three (if there is one) worth it.

Arrow continues to blow my mind. The whole tease at the beginning of the season with Oliver standing by a grave now has so many possibilities my brain hurts from thinking about them. LOL

Legends of Tomorrow keeps getting better and better. I'm thrilled with how the cast is being utilized and the way the teams are always mixed. Snart (or Snark as I like to call him) is a favorite and he keeps growing on me more and more.

Gotham and Agents of SHIELD return soon and I'm looking forward to both being back on my screen.

And, whew, that's it for television this week.

Tonight's post is from Green-Eyed Monster, a novella where the prompt stated to take a scene from a favorite television show and change the key moment. I opted to take a scene where someone got shot and swap the character with another one. Very fun dynamic to write.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Dani works undercover sting operations and inadvertently shoots the girlfriend of Neal, one her co-workers. When the green-eyed monster of jealousy rears its head, Dani isn't sure how to help Neal through the trauma, but she'll move whatever stands in the way to make sure he's happy.

And a snippety peek...

Dani Kent ducked into the equipment room and pulled down her gear. "Thank God for active ops." Dragging her bag of tricks to the changing area, she rifled through the case and found what she wanted.

The tip her unit received turned out to be good and her team had ten hours to get in place. A noodle house. Dani shook her head. The leader of a gun running ring hit the place like clockwork, a crazy-stupid error in judgment.

Dani's lips curved. "Never underestimate a food addiction." Satisfied with her choices, she quickly shimmied into the low-riding jeans, tight t-shirt, and espadrille wedges, the standard uniform of the female waitstaff at Hun's Noodle Hut.

Her CO, Ward, wandered into the area. "You good to go, Dani?" He slapped his palm on the wall. "We've gotta get inside and set up a perimeter."

She shoved everything back in her bag and hefted it over her shoulder. "Yeah, I'm good." Stowing the duffel under one of the benches, she met Ward by the main entrance. "How's the rest of the team?"

Ward nodded down the corridor. "They're in the armory kitting up. You need to do the same."

Dani acknowledged his order and headed to get her weapons. "Am I the only one going in?" The plan called for two people, but the minimal staff at Hun's probably wouldn't allow for anyone else.

Ward stopped her progress. "Yeah. But we'll have you covered. And you're wearing an earwig. No arguments."

Dani sighed, but held her tongue. "Okay." She started for the armory again.

Ward dropped one more question. "First op without your former partner. You sure you're good to go?"

Dani lifted a hand and gave him a thumbs up. The reminder stung, but her track record spoke for itself. Her work record, anyway. Her track record with men pretty much sucked. Note Neal Cassidy, her former partner. He'd chosen to leave the unit instead of working with her after a terrible breakup.

Of course, per usual, Dani realized she'd lost something important when he walked away. Too late. She always figured shit out too late to make a difference.

But work would always be there, the one thing she could count on.

Always.

Enjoying this one. The sages are very loud with how they want the story to go, always a bonus. LOL

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin

Sunday Snippet: Veritas

February 1, 2015

One more week until Bitten returns with season two. I can't wait!! Banshee is amping up the tension and I'm looking forward to the next episode. Makes me miss Strike Back and look forward to whenever it comes back to my television screen.

My usual fare, The Flash, Arrow, Gotham, and Sleepy Hollow had good showings. I'm enjoying the story arc on Arrow even if my twitter feed seems to hold a different opinion. I love the flashbacks and how they reveal information about Oliver's time off the island.

Also need to take a moment to mention Lost Girl. It's the final season and I'm so going to miss the show when it's gone. Thankfully, I'll have Orphan Black to look forward to soon and will get to see Ksenia Solo in a new role. J

Tonight's post is from Veritas, a novella where a friendly fire incident brings a couple home to their truth.

Here's the tagline:

Tillie Cruz has a moment of veritas when she shoots Faxon Jarvis in a friendly fire incident. The realization she wants a life with him may be too late because Faxon has a new relationship and Tillie doesn't want to mess it up. But she may not have to—her bullet may have done the trick.

A snippety peek…

Tillie spun around and faced Faxon. "You know what? We're done here." She gathered up her gear. "Don't bother stopping by after your shift is over, because you're no longer welcome."

Faxon crossed his arms over his chest. "Cut and run? Why doesn’t that surprise me?"

Tillie fought the urge to punch him. "Because you know how goddamned annoying you are?" Biting words worked just as good as physical violence.

Faxon's nostrils flared, but he didn't speak.

Tillie smirked. "Exactly. You don't have the right to get in my way. I know what I'm doing out there." She flung her jacket over her shoulder. "If you'll remember, I graduated from the academy." She angled her around. "At a higher standing than you, I might add."

Faxon's mouth thinned to a slash across his face. "Yeah, you did. But you're too cocky out there, Tills." He turned and opened his locker. "And someday that's going to bite you on the ass." His gaze met hers. "Hard."

She snorted and headed for the exit. "Whatever. I get the job done." She strolled out the door and left Faxon behind, putting him firmly out of her mind.

She had a solid reputation and he had no business raking her over the coals for putting herself in danger. They were cops. Peril came with the work.

Nothing like a little conflict to get things started. J

That's it for this week. Happy reading.

Skylin

Sunday Snippet: Dodging Bullets

Hello!

Okay, getting the TV stuff out of the way first, as always, but did you watch the Arrow mid-season finally? If you didn't, why not!! Seriously, the show keeps getting better and better, and it was already pretty damned great. :D

Sons of Anarchy finale this week and whoa. I seriously have no idea how anything will play out. Sutter never quite goes where I think he will and that's part of what I love about the show.

Walking Dead gave me a very satisfactory finale even if it killed off one of my favorite characters. Can't ask for more than that, right?

I'm hoping to start Almost Human in the near future and catch up so I can watch in real time. I've heard very good things about the show.

Tonight's post is from Dodging Bullets, a novella featuring characters who've grown up together and still have a connection.

Here's the tagline:

Sable and Gage live on the same street and survive their childhood by having each other's backs. When they grow up, they're still looking out for each other, but instead of ducking verbal barbs and flying objects, they're dodging bullets instead.

And a snippety peek…

Sable unhooked the back gate just in time to dodge the pepper grinder being lobbed at her dad's head. He shot her a look and she turned around, beating a hasty retreat to the nearby novelty store. He'd long ago made Sable promise if she got the raised eyebrow she'd go straight to shop and wait. Ivan would pick her up after Bianca cooled off. Until she did, Sable would hang out with Bernie, the owner and a good friend of Ivan's.

Sometimes her parents acted more like they were twelve instead of Sable. Okay, her mom did. Bianca threw more temper tantrums in a week than Sable had her whole life.

She skipped around the corner and waited for the light to change then darted across the street and made a left. The Aardvark's neon sign shone like a beacon of welcome in a torrential downpour of well, words she shouldn't know or say.

She pushed the door open and shouted. "Hey, Bernie! How's it hanging?"

Her dad's friend shook his head. "Sable, you know that greeting is inappropriate. You're almost a teenager." He came around the counter and nodded towards a couple of customers. "Do you want me to get arrested for contributing to your delinquency?"

Sable snorted. "It's just Gage and Garth. They're not customers. They're a pain in the butt."

Bernie sighed. "No they're not. They hang out here as much as you do." He lowered his voice. "But their dad is a cop and you need to remember that."

The light bulb went off and she nodded. "Sorry, Bernie. I'll just say hi next time."

He grinned and went back to his post behind the cash register. "Do you need a snack? I've got peanut butter and graham crackers."

She cracked a smile. "You got chocolate sprinkles left?" She loved the mix of peanut butter and chocolate.

Bernie chuckled. "You know I do." He jerked his head towards the back. "Keep an eye on things out here. I'll go get it ready."

Sable bounced around the counter and climbed up onto the metal stool Bernie kept stashed just for her. "I got this." She waved Bernie away.

Settling down, she turned her attention to Gage and Garth Waterson. The brothers lived across the street, three doors down from her house. Gage a year older than Sable, Garth a year younger, they often ended up walking home from school together. Other parents picked their kids up, but Bianca Rich couldn't be bothered. Betty Waterson worked as a paramedic for the city's fire department and trusted her boys would get home without incident. With a beat cop for a dad, they knew what to look out for.

"You can't buy that shirt, Garth. Mom will freak out and kick your ass." Gage grabbed the shirt from his younger brother.

Garth slugged him. "You better stop cussing. You'll do it in front of mom and she'll kick your ass." He snagged the tee back and held it out of Gage's reach. "I'll wait 'til she's working a twenty-four and only wear it then." He smirked at his brilliant idea.

Gage rolled his eyes. "Fine. But when she goes apeshit, don't come crying to me." He threw the shirt in the plastic basket and moved over to the ball caps.

She wondered why Gage got so bent over Garth's choice. Maybe the garment had one of the more offensive slogans on it. She shook her head. Gage shouldn't have caved. Garth would forget and get busted wearing the shirt then Gage would take the heat from whatever their mom tried to throw at Garth. He always did.

Her curiosity getting the better of her, Sable slid off the stool and made her way over to the boys. Maybe she could talk Garth into picking something else. She hated how mopey Gage got when their mom started slinging verbal barbs.

She tapped Gage on the shoulder. "Hey. What's going on?" She cast a furtive glance inside their basket.

Well, shit. Gage's reason for concern smacked Sable in the face. Garth didn't choose one of the questionable sayings. He'd opted for a silkscreen of a local band—

The Bangers—her dad's group.

Sable huffed out a breath. "Garth, man, you don't wanna take that shirt home. You'll be lucky if your mom doesn’t set it—and you—on fire."

And then have to call her co-workers to come and put the flames out.

Garth heaved a sigh and went to hang the shirt back on the display rack.

Gage nudged Sable's shoulder. "Thanks, Sable."

Sable nodded and met Gage's gaze. "No problem. I feel bad for Garth."

Gage tilted his head. "Why?"

Sable shrugged. "Because it's not his fault your mom hates my dad."

Sometimes I love writing characters who have a rich history yet can't see what's right in front of them… but Sable and Gage get it and keep their connection, even when they're grown. J

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin

Sunday Snippet: Zane's Ghost

Greetings!

Gah! What a week in television. Agents of S.H.E.I.L.D got interesting, Sons of Anarchy kicked several plots up a notch, Arrow continues to WOW me, Haven had a kick ass episode and Walking Dead still amazes and creeps me out all at the same time. J I already miss Strike Back, but hopefully a new season will be announced, if it hasn't been already.

Shifting gears, tonight's post is from Zane's Ghost, a novella featuring characters that land in the middle of a moral dilemma. Gray and Kella don't make it easy for each other to get out of the quagmire.

Here's the tagline:

When Zane Warchild goes down in the line of duty, Kella Fine blames herself—after all, she realizes her mistake when she crosses a personal line and steps way back from Zane. Gray Warchild grows quickly tired of Kella wearing her guilt like a badge and putting his brother's ghost between them.

And a snippety peek…

Benton Warchild strode into the room. "Shut up. Both of you." He planted his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. "I've had just about enough of listening to you two slice each other to shreds." He jerked his head toward the long, leather couch. "Sit down. And don't even think about ducking out. You're going to listen—and hear—what I have to say."

Kella trudged to the sofa and chose the spot closest to the door. Gray took his time—his only outward display of defiance—and opted to sit at the opposite end, as far away from Kella as possible. His dad didn't move, standing directly between the objects of his wrath and their exit.

Gray settled back, figuring he might as well get comfortable.

Benton sent a scathing glance in each direction. "What, exactly, is your problem?"

A rhetorical question, neither Gray nor Kella answered.

Benton shook his head. "You two have been dancing around something—something that could be good. Why haven't you done anything about it?"

Kella rolled her eyes and looked longingly towards the door. Gray slouched down and kept his mouth shut. He could explain exactly why he and Kella didn't act on their attraction—because the damn fool woman wouldn't let it happen.

Benton studied each for several moments then sighed. "Because of Zane." He turned his attention to Gray. "Your brother wouldn't give a damn if you pursued something with Kella. You're stupid to think he would."

Gray shot back. "Dad, you don't know everything. Zane and I… we had some issues." And almost every damn one had to do with the other two people in the room.

Benton scoffed. "Bullshit. I know more than you think." He pinned Gray with his gaze. "You never talked to me, but Zane did. About everything."

He left the rest hanging. The old man probably assumed Gray would figure things out eventually and realize what they'd talked about. The biggest problem with the concept? Gray seriously doubted Zane had been completely honest with Benton, which meant Gray would continue to keep his mouth closed.

Benton swung his gaze toward Kella. "And you. You hang onto your guilt so tightly, I'm not sure you'll ever let it go. But I'm telling you to try." He paced back and forth. "Zane's gone. It's not your fault. Get over it." He stopped. "Move the hell on and stop wallowing in self-doubt. It doesn't suit you."

Kella opened her mouth to retort but thought better of it. She clamped her lips together and stared straight ahead. Gray almost let her hang under the glower of his dad, but decided to let her off the hook.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You've made your point, Dad." He glanced up and met his father's gaze. "I think we're done here." Gray made sure the dismissal came through in his tone.

Benton snorted. "Fine. I'm leaving—heading upstairs, in fact," he started for the door, "but if I hear you two going at it again, I'm coming back and I won't be playing referee, I'll be physically kicking you two out the door."

Kella waited until the old man cleared the first landing. "Hard to get a word in with him, isn't it?"

Gray huffed out a breath. "You had your chance." He got up and went to the bar, grabbing a glass from the shelf above it.

Kella followed. "Oh no. Uh uh." She added a tumbler next to his. "Your old man has a way of twisting shit back around and laying open old wounds…" She chose whiskey and poured a healthy amount into the cup. "And jabbing a hot poker into them every damn time."

Gray's lips quirked and he took the bottle from her hands. "Yeah, Dad's kind of notorious for ripping off the scab, says it keeps the sore from festering." He picked up his drink and tossed it back.

Kella slowly sipped. "You know he's wrong, right? Scabs are part of the healing process. Sometimes they leave scars, but those usually fade away."

Gray turned and faced her. "Yours haven't." He held her gaze, waiting for her to look away.

She didn't.

Instead, she took a step closer. "Not yet. But he nailed it. I gotta let go and move forward."

Yep, I'm gonna leave it there. LOL

That's it for this week. Happy reading.

Skylin

Sunday Snippet: Mixed Signals

Howdy!

Whew. Whirlwind weekend in Columbus, Ohio. My husband's region won their company's highest honor and we got a lovely dinner with fun entertainment and a night in a downtown hotel. Caught up with some old friends and finally, finally got to see my brother's house just south of the Brewery District. He's only lived there ten years and it's my first visit. LOL

Tonight's post is from a brand new (heh, as in just started) novella. Mixed Signals had one scene that sort of ate my brain until I put it down on paper. It's still very much taking shape, but I'm enjoying the discovery of the character interaction.

Here's the tagline:

Avery and Trigg, both undercover cops, used to have a relationship, but their work made it hard to stay connected. When mixed signals results in Avery shooting Trigg in a friendly fire incident, she wants to set the record straight and maybe test the waters to pick up where they left off.

And a snippety peek…

Avery popped her head inside Trigg's room. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I? Is Dinah here?"

Trigg waved her in. "Nope." His gaze lowered. "I'm not with Dinah anymore. She can't handle the line of fire thing.

Avery made her way to his beside and propped her hip on the mattress. "You mean friendly fire, don't you?" Dinah probably wanted her head on a platter.

He glanced up. "Look, you got sucked into a bad situation. You had to take action."

She lifted a shoulder. She couldn't disagree, but didn't trust herself to talk about it yet.

He grasped her hand. "Avery, it's not like you meant to shoot me. I got caught in the crossfire." He squeezed. "Hell, I practically stepped in front of the bullet when I tried to help."

Her lips twitched. He truly had kinda mucked up her operation.

She met his gaze. "We both work on instinct, reflex, and gut reaction and we still fuck things up sometimes."

He nodded. "Yeah, so cut yourself some slack and quit letting it tear you up."

She smiled. "Right. I'll do my best." She waited a beat the dove into why she'd really come to see him. "So, you're relationship free and wounded. That's a double threat."
He let go of her hand. "Oh, no, Avery. You don’t wanna go there. Dinah and I had issues from the beginning, but you'd still be rebound girl and I don't wanna be that guy."

She laced their fingers together. "Why not? Technically, I can't be a rebound since we share a past." And he couldn't have been that attached to Dinah—Trigg admitted as much.

He sighed. "Avery, what do you want here? Is it because you shot me?" He shook his head. "If you're trying to assuage your guilt by screwing me wild, don't. Because I'm just pissed off enough to take whatever you're offering and walk away."

She snorted. "Trigg, you're an ass sometimes, and you've got every right to be pissed. But don't give me that line of bull. If we do hook up, I want more than wild sex, and something tells me you'd never just walk away." She tilted her head sideways. "Would you?"

We'll see how things take shape. Right now, Trigg wouldn't walk away, but he just might not want Avery to be hip to that fact. LOL

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin

Sunday Snippet: Harshing the Calm

June 30, 2013

Hello!

Holy crap. It's the last day of June and half the year is gone. How on earth did that happen? LOL I shouldn't complain. I've got green stuff growing in my tiny garden and the mild weather. Can't really ask for more. J

Tonight's post is from Harshing the Calm, a novella/novel featuring a couple who break up because they think they're toxic for each other, but find out maybe they just needed some room to grow. J

Here's the tagline:

Gentry and Rayce have a volatile past, one they walk away from to start over. But old habits are hard to break and when their paths cross again, they discover they can repeat their mistakes, or change and grow into something so much better.

And the snippety peek…

Gentry walked into the bar and immediately spotted Rayce. Dammit. Back two months and she couldn't stop from bumping into him. She really wished he'd stayed on the other side of the city. Their paths rarely crossed then.

Whatever. She wanted a drink and her favorite bartender, Bart, would be more than happy to keep them coming.

Heaving a sigh, she glared at the dispatcher sitting on 'her' barstool. He wisely got up and moved three places down.

Gentry eased up onto the stool and tapped the counter. Twice.

Bart's eyes widened. "Starting with a double, Detective? Must've been a shit day." He flipped over a glass and poured her brand of whiskey—neat, no ice.

Gentry rolled her eyes. "Wasn't until I walked in." She jerked her head toward Rayce's table. "My past is back to haunt me."

Bart lifted a brow. "And the hot, sweet thing locking lips with him? What's her role?"

Gentry whipped her head around. Son of a bitch. Sure enough, Catie the Cutie, had her mouth smacking all over Rayce. Gentry snorted. The perky beat cop looked like a teenager with her hair caught up in a ponytail full of bouncy curls. Swiftly facing forward, she drained the contents of her drink and nodded for another round.

Bart shook his head. "Better slow down, Detective. Might be a short walk to your place, but you have to be upright to get there."

Gentry shrugged. "Someone will make sure I get home."

Bart refilled her tumbler and his gaze followed the exit of someone through the main entrance. "Lips just left. Mr Used to Be is all alone." His head jerked toward Rayce. "Go. Park yourself in the empty chair at his table and I'll bring you the bottle."

Gentry frowned. "Why the hell would I want to do that?" No way would she get within three feet of Rayce.

Bart leaned in and spoke quietly. "Because I didn't put my bullet proof snark vest on tonight and you clearly need to vent your spleen." He glanced over her head. "He's a better target."

The man had a point. "Fine. But give me one to go."

Bart huffed out a breath, but poured more alcohol into her glass.

Gentry smirked and slid off the barstool. She made her way through the crowded bar and dropped down onto the empty chair at Rayce's table.

Lost in thought, he sent a startled glance in her direction then quickly schooled his features into an unreadable mask. "Gentry." He gave her a cool nod and clammed up.

Figured. They'd parted on bad terms and she'd had the last word. He would leave it up to her to open any conversation they'd have now.

She set her glass on the table and leaned back in the chair. "Rayce. Why are you here?" Bars weren't private property, but the place belonged to her, at least in her mind it did.

Rayce shrugged. "It's conveniently located close to work."

Gentry snorted. "And apparently a good place for public displays of affection."

Rayce frowned. "What are you talking about?" He paused. "Oh."

Gentry nodded. "Yeah. Probably better be more cautious, Rayce. I mean people know about you and Catie, but geez, between the age difference and your status as a detective, it could harm her career."

Rayce settled against the back rest and crossed his arms over his chest. "Gentry, you don't get to comment on my social life anymore. You made that perfectly clear when you announced Cal Brynley was your personal property and everyone needed to keep their hands off." He jabbed a finger in her direction. "You don't have a right to say anything about my relationships or who I sleep with. Not anymore."

Gentry quirked a brow. "Wow. How quaint. Defending your woman's honor." She leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table. "She's a beat cop, Rayce. She can protect herself."

Rayce snarled. "It's not about protection. It's about you stirring the shit pot." He moved forward, invading her personal space. "I mean what the hell was that personal property thing, Gentry? Your way of making the minor league ball player feel worthy to be in your presence?"

Ouch. That stung. Mainly because truth laced his words.

Her shoulders slumped. "Yeah, not my best moment." She met Rayce's gaze. "Look, I heard about you and Catie, and I wanted something, I don't know, to call mine." Okay, coming clean didn't make the world implode.

Rayce studied her a moment, probably trying to gauge the honesty of her words. "Gentry, sometimes you're your own worst enemy." He leaned back again. "And for your information, my status with Catie is of the former variety. Pretty much for the reasons you listed."

Her eyes widened. "Wait, what? Why the lip-lock when she left?"

Rayce chuckled. "You know, she might be seven years younger, but she has a maturity you have yet to achieve." He lifted a shoulder. "She noticed you walk in and gave me a kiss for luck." His brows knit. "Not sure why. She knows you're with Brynley."

Gentry made a quick decision to go with the whole truth. "Yeah, well, not so sure about that." She shrugged. "Cal got traded to another team and has to move. We're not sure about trying to do the long distance deal."

Rayce, to his credit, nodded. "That's a tough call. You can't just hop a plane to visit, not with your schedule. And it's a long time until the off season."

She didn't have a witty comeback, or even a snarky one. Rayce's unexpected empathy tilted her perspective sideways. An awkward, on her end, silence stretched out between them. Until Bart brought the promised bottle of whiskey.

He nudged her shoulder. "I put it on your tab. Don't be stingy. Make sure you share." With a quick salute to Rayce, Bart turned and headed back to the bar.

Gentry refilled her glass and lifted a questioning brow. "Any objections to helping me drink this?"

Rayce narrowed his gaze, pondering a moment. "None that I can think of at the moment." He took the alcohol and topped off his tumbler.

Raising his glass, he gave a silent toast and drained the contents. Gentry relaxed and decided to go with the flow. He'd made an effort and she could do the same.

Who knew where it might lead.

And it definitely leads somewhere, just not to a place Gentry expected. :D

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin

Sunday Snippet: Calling Bull

Hello! First up, I'm happy to say I'll be celebrating twenty-four years of marriage as of tomorrow, April 22.

I'm lucky enough to have found a great guy who puts up with my overwhelming need to write and create. He may not always get the why, but he gets the need and stands behind me. Pretty great, no?

Happy anniversary, wonderful man!

Tonight's post is from a short story entitled, Calling Bull. It could expand out to a full novella, but right now the characters are focused on each other in three scenes. A fourth is niggling in the background but hasn't fleshed itself out yet. J

Here's the tagline:

No one knows Ivy better than Ward. A fact she truly hates sometimes. But when he pushes her into a corner, she either comes out swinging or learns to forgive and forget.

Here's the snippety peek…

"Bullshit!"

"Bullshit!"

Ward's mouth snapped shut the same moment Ivy's dropped open.

Her finger jabbed him in the chest. "I called it first." She whirled around and stalked toward the door.

Ward snorted. "You did not. I've been calling it for years, Ivy. Years." He drew the word out for emphasis.

She stopped, her shoulders going squared. Her head tilted to the side and Ward braced for impact. Or an uppercut to the jaw.

Neither came.

Ivy slowly turned, facing him and holding his gaze. He'd be damned if he'd look away first.

He didn't have to. Ivy got a faraway quality in her eyes, and when she opened her mouth, she spoke very, very quietly.

"Your words may be true, but this time, Ward…this time you crossed a line." Her gaze snapped back, clear and focused. "And I'm definitely putting you on notice. Do not ever go there again."

She calmly turned around and exited the room. Not even slamming the door as usual.

His nostrils flared. He wouldn't have to go there if she'd just take a damn moment and think before she acted. Just once.

Right. Ivy rarely thought anything through, working on pure instinct and gut reactions. He'd been harsh, bringing up her partner's death, but hells bells, she'd damned near gotten a rookie killed with her balls to the wall, high speed chase last night.

Gotta love it when your immediate superior knows exactly which button to push to get a reaction. LOL

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin