Sunday Snippet: Drowning Pull

Greetings to the month of September. I'm kind of not ready for it yet, mainly because once the calendar changes to the ninth month, it seems like October, November, and December zoom by super fast.

Had a great work week and made some progress on my new venture. I'm crossing my fingers I'll be able to launch sometime between October and December. Another reason I'm not quite ready for the new month.

Decent viewing week. I'm not quite caught up on everything, but I'm getting there. I did make a full rotation of my usual shows but I'm off schedule, which confuses my weird brain.

Got two episodes of Only Murders in the Building watched and I'm kind of loving this show. Had a great conversation with my daughter, who also loves it.

Caught an episode of Blue Heelers and kind of thought a couple of the characters were acting unlike themselves. But I did like the mystery.

Enjoyed another MasterClass lesson with Roxane Gay. She did another workshop and talked about finding your voice as a writer. Very good stuff.

Finished up The Babysitters Club and I'm so bummed there aren't any more episodes left. I'll be starting a new show this week but haven't decided which one yet.

Watched two episodes of Classic Rugrats. The Chanukah episode is one of my favorites and I always enjoyed watching it with the kiddos. The Mother's Day episode is also up there even if it's a little bit of a downer.

Started Resisting Roots, a Passionflix original. So far, I'm enjoying it. Looking forward to finishing up this movie.

Caught another episode of Chicago Med and struggled to stay interested. I liked two of the storylines and didn't really have much invested in the other two. Season five might be my last one.

Enjoyed another episode of Batman: The Animated Series. This one introduced the Joker and my major appreciation for Mark Hamill's portrayal of the iconic bad guy started all over again.

Watched the Christmas episode of Ted Lasso and thoroughly enjoyed it. Ted having Rupert's number made me happy. Also loved Roy in this one. And I'm finding a deep appreciation for Keeley. I really love the dynamic she has with Rebecca. Jamie … I absolutely dislike with an intense passion. Just saying. Coach Beard is awesome. And so is Nate.

Caught another episode of The Brokenwood Mysteries. I'm kind of bummed I only have one more left of the season. This show makes me happy.

Finished up the second part and final episode of Silent Witness's season nineteen. Looking forward to starting the new one next week.

Watched another episode of Classic Who. I'm a little lost with what's supposed to be going on but I had a few distractions while I was watching this episode. Looking forward to the final two for this season.

Enjoyed another Strangest Things. This one had several fun artifacts. One happened to feature in a middle grade book I edited a few years ago. Very fun to see a breakdown of the item the author wrote about in his book.

Caught another episode of The Book of Boba Fett. I actually love this show a lot. It's right up there with The Mandalorian. I'm hoping there will be another season of this one.

That's pretty much it for the life update this week. Tonight's post is from Drowning Pull, a novella that explores one way grief brings a couple together.

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 hookup later, Lane thinks he's found the perfect woman in Weslee, until she mentions her fiancé.

And a snippety peek…

Shit. What the hell am I doing?

Weslee dashed back into the apartment, hastily donned shorts and a tank top then went to greet Brad. "Okay, totally obvious what happened last night. But—"

Brad waved a hand. "Whatever, Wes. One-time thing, right?" He dumped his bag by the door then moved into the kitchen to start making some coffee.

Weslee blinked. He's shrugging off the indiscretion? Wow. His lack of giving a shit spoke volumes about what he'd probably been up to on the road.

She glanced at the door. Watching Lane leave hurt more than it should, especially after one night. And it broke her heart a little to see his eyes go flat and dead again—like they'd been when she met him in the bar.

The difference from the night before when they'd shared her bed almost took her breath away. When he asked if he could see her again, she had a moment of indecision, wanting to possibly pursue something with him … but she had to be honest—a little late, but necessary. And Lane had rightfully shut her down. Her own stupid fault for being depressed and moody and taking one night to do whatever she wanted, no holds barred. She honestly didn't want to examine the reasoning too closely right now, because she wouldn't like what it said about her state of mind.

Entering the kitchen, she grabbed a mug.

Brad leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "How did your appointment go?"

Surprised he even remembered, she didn't mince words. "After this week, I'm cleared to do PT on my own and I can compete, but..." She paused a moment, the decision sitting heavy on her shoulders. "I run the risk of doing further damage that I won't come back from." She met his gaze. "So, I'm done professionally. I'll do exhibitions and hopefully stay on as an ambassador for the sport." She stirred some creamer into the coffee.

Brad pushed away from the wall. "You know, Wes … that doesn't really work for me. We're supposed to be a golden couple, one on the ice, one on the snow. If you're out, maybe we should end things now." He shrugged, almost like ending an engagement ranked with ordering a pizza.

Angry, Weslee called him on the bullshit. "Right. Let me get this straight. You're fine with me sleeping with someone else, but you'll break our engagement because I'm no longer going to be pro?" How did that make sense?

And she might have let a potentially great thing walk away because she couldn't end things with Brad herself.

He rolled a shoulder again. "Look, mistakes happen. You hooking up with someone else, especially when I'm on the road, well, it would've happened sooner or later."

He told on himself with every word, pretty confirming her suspicions about what he got up to when the team traveled. She could kick herself for not confronting him about it. And she hated herself for being no better than him.

Brad propped a shoulder on the door jamb. "Your professional days ending changes the dynamic a little too much. Won't be mutually beneficial anymore and I have to think of my career, especially when it's still going strong."

And if that didn't lay everything on the line, and distill Brad's priorities down to their essence, nothing else did.

She nodded toward the door. "In that case, I'm keeping the apartment. Get whatever you need for a few days and go crash with one of your teammates." She dumped the coffee into the sink. "I'm getting a shower. Be gone when I'm done. You can arrange a time when I'm not here to get the rest of your stuff." She left the kitchen without looking back.

And wondered why her heart felt more bruised over the lost chance with Lane Addison than it did for a broken engagement.

This story deviates a little from the regular path but I'm kind of happy with where it's going. I like to challenge myself and getting Weslee and Lane to their happy end is stretching me to see things from a different perspective.

 

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin

Sunday Snippet: Drowning Pull

Well, July is off to a roaring start. Daughter's graduation party is scheduled for today and I'm hoping we have a good turnout but also spaced out over the three hours of the party. I'm filling out my blog post early and getting it ready to post beforehand.

Had a semi-busy week between work and the party prep, but I did get some solid television watched. I started out with Ms. Fisher's Modern Murder Mysteries. This is a rewatch for me but I love the show.

Also caught another arc of Classic Who. The four-part Ark in Space episodes. Not a bad group.

Watched another episode of The Witcher and, ouch, kind of a heartbreaker episode. I did totally love the dragons though. Looking forward to the next episode.

Caught two more season three episodes of Danger Man. I don't remember either of them so I enjoyed watching.

And that's it for this week. I should have more time next week to dive into some of the shows I'm behind on. And I have to watch the finale of Arrow. I'll have at least two boxes of tissues on hand. Just saying.

Tonight's post is from Drowning Pull, a novella that is coming along nicely. The twists and turns are set and progress is happening.

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 hookup later, Lane thinks he's found the perfect woman in Weslee, until she mentions her fiancé.

And a snippety peek…

Weslee Thorn caught major air on her last run. Snowboarding competitions gave her nothing but joy. She did her final spin, going one hundred eighty degrees and glimpsed Brad Young, her fiancé, standing next to Barbie Quantro. Too close. Weslee's number one rival getting all cozy with her hockey-playing man? Not remotely cool.

Weslee lost focus and tilted, just a little, enough to throw off her finish. She landed off-kilter, twisted hard to the side, but couldn't recover. She went down, landing on her knee, wrenching it sideways. The pain tore through her and she gasped, unable to move, too scared to shift position. One wrong maneuver could end her career.

An event worker dashed to her side. "Weslee? Josh Trombo. You okay?" He crouched down, assessing her position.

Weslee jerked her head back and forth, her teeth chattering. Josh signaled for the medics and tried to support her awkward position.

He leaned in close so the onlookers wouldn't overhear. "I'm not gonna try to move you or remove your board. Can you hang in there?" He held her gaze, his filled with sympathy.

Weslee nodded, still unable to speak. Tears streamed down her face, warming her cold cheeks. Josh kept talking, using soothing tones and kept an eye out for the medical team.

The medics arrived and carefully splinted her leg before removing her board. They got her onto a stretcher and lifted her, ready to carry her to an ambulance.

Weslee found her voice, squeezing Josh's hand. "Thank you." She gave him a wobbly smile.

He managed a quick nod. The medics carried her forward through the crowd of spectators. While they gave her a round of applause, Weslee looked for Brad. Her gaze scanned the passing faces. She spotted Barbie, standing by the scoreboard and then Brad's face came into view.

He put a hand against her cheek. "Hey, sweetness, I'm here." He reached down and clasped her palm.

Weslee had a twinge of relief and kind of hated herself for it. Brad would be there for her. Of course. Not his fault women flocked to him in droves. She had her fair share of men trying to get close to her too.

Loaded in the back of the ambulance, she heaved a frustrated sigh. She wouldn't place at this event or if she did, it would be on the low end. Brad climbed in, but held the door open, playing to the gathered crowd until they stopped taking pictures. Only then did he sit by her side and let the medics head out.

Weslee rolled her eyes and bit back a nasty retort. Brad never missed a chance to get his name and face in the news and on social media. She could imagine the tweets later today. Brad Young bravely leaves event with his fiancé Weslee Thorn after she wipes out on the course.

He dragged his phone out and spared her a glance. "You'll be fine, babe. No worries."

Weslee didn't argue, but the ache in her knee said otherwise. She'd be lucky if she got the all clear to compete again this season.

Didn't that suck balls?

I loved writing this scene. Weslee is fun and she'll have some interesting choices to make soon.

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin

Sunday Snippet: Drowning Pull

Holy crap. Where did January go? It's crazy how fast months fly by now.

So, The Flash is testing my patience. Not in a necessarily bad way, but having Barry zoom around and put all the inmates back in their cells had me eye-rolling. We'll see how long they keep him trapped in a cell. I need to rewatch the second episode of Black Lightning because I had too many distractions the first time around.

Riverdale… Oh, show. The Ram? Really? I don't know. It's either the best nickname ever or possibly the lamest one on the planet. Time will tell. Everything else about the episode hit high notes for me. It's going to be a wild ride and I'm totally strapped in to see where everything goes. One interesting development… now that I have a better understanding of Mama Alice I now need to know what the hell flavor of fresh hell Hal's been drinking.

Arrow keeps throwing twisty-turns into the mix and I love it. I'm actually hoping Vigilante is an actual double agent. And here's my fondest desire… he's working for ARGUS in exchange for immunity against all the bad guys he killed. Just saying, having him around for a while wouldn't be a bad thing. Now, after saying that, he did tell James he knows how to push every one of Dinah's buttons and having him on her side would be a great big red one. I won't be too shocked if his help is nothing but a ruse. But I will be disappointed, dammit.

Still loving my period dramas. Murdoch Mysteries and Frankie Drake Mysteries. Frankie Drake is terrific with keeping interesting cases rolling across the screen. Murdoch Mysteries never fails to be consistent with quality. Love both of these shows.

I'm burning through season three of Chicago Fire and still loving the show. I'm also enjoying the crossover episodes they have with other productions. Nice to have those on the DVDs.

I think that's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Drowning Pull, a novella that started with the idea of meeting the right person at the wrong time.

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 hookup 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 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 more 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.

I'm so pleased with how this scene turned out. I went back and forth more than once trying to get the mood the way I wanted it.

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin

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 Snippet: Drowning Pull

I hope everyone survived the holiday!

My family had a wonderful day—no traveling, just staying home all nice and cozy with our new tech gear and good food. I watched more holiday television episodes and said good-bye to Matt Smith's Doctor. I'm still not quite settled in with the idea of the new actor, but I'll give him a chance.

Looking forward to my fave shows returning. Almost Human, Sleepy Hollow, Arrow, The Tomorrow People, Walking Dead, Sherlock, and probably a few I’m forgetting at the moment. Currently watching a Farscape marathon on Pivot then switching over to some recorded stuff I haven't watched yet.

Tonight's post is from the novella, Drowning Pull. The characters have an instant spark, but circumstances keep them from pursuing the electric connection.

Here's the tagline:

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 the snippety peek…

Lane woke up slowly, with a clear head and vision. He hadn't had that experience since his brother's funeral. Weslee. The name popped into his head at the same moment her thigh brushed over his when she stirred in her slumber. A ghost of a smiled cracked his lips before he sobered and wrapped an arm around her.

She'd given him a gift the night before. Listened to him, commiserated, and shared a major setback she'd recently had. Not exactly standard relationship building blocks, but nothing remotely typical happened in his life since Liam's death. He'd connected with Weslee, bonded with her, and he wanted an opportunity to explore with more depth.

He traced a finger along her jawline and her eyelids fluttered open. "Morning."

Her eyelids fluttered open and a satisfied smile curved her lips. "Morning." She rolled onto her side and stretched the sleepy kinks out.

Lane propped his head on his hand and admired her sleekly muscled curves. He'd already fallen for her personality, the incredible form counted as a bonus. Weslee yawned and relaxed.

Lane leaned in and dropped a kiss on her shoulder. "Thank you. Last night was… wonderful."

Weslee flicked her gaze sideways. "Yeah, it was. More than I expected, too."

Lane bit back a grin. "Maybe we can get together next week? Do dinner or something?"

Weslee frowned and she heaved a sigh. "I'd love to, but well…" Her eyes closed then popped open again. "About that…" She sat up, dragging the sheet up to her shoulders. "You see, next week won't work, or really any time after that."

A sharp stab of dread hit Lane in the gut. He scrambled up and around, facing Weslee.

She wouldn't meet his gaze and the sick ball in the pit of his stomach turned into a harsh throb.

Weslee finally lifted her chin and looked him in the eye. "I'm, well, engaged to Brad Young. I can't do a repeat of last night. I'm sorry."

Lane flinched. A physical blow would've stung less.

He leapt off the bed, grabbing his jeans and dragging them on. "Right, then. Time for me to leave." He yanked his T-shirt over his head. "I can find my way out."

He should have known. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Thought he'd met someone great, but instead he'd found a woman who wanted a hard cock and nothing else.

He stomped through the living room and grabbed his jacket off the back of the couch. He swung his gaze toward the bedroom. Weslee fought a battle with the sheets, trying to get untangled. Good. He had nothing else to say and no desire to hear a 'thanks for the great sex' good-bye.

He flipped the deadbolt, twisted the knob, and pulled the door open, exiting into the hallway. Scanning both directions, he remembered where the elevators were and turned left. Halfway down the hall, he glanced up and wouldn't it just figure… found none other than Brad Young strolling down the corridor.

Brushing past the athlete, Lane muttered. "Good luck, buddy. You're gonna need it."

Brad stopped short, but Weslee burst into the hall, the white sheet wrapped around her. Yeah, not obvious at all what Lane had been talking about. Lane shook his head and kept on moving in the direction of the elevator.

Weslee could sink or swim on her own.

~:~

Sorry to leave it there, but no worries… Lane and Weslee will figure it all out. It might just take a while. LOL

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin