Sunday Snippet: Once in a Lifetime

July 28, 2013

Greetings!

It's been a great writing week…for organizational stuff. LOL I've spent almost every day working on taglines, plotting story ideas, adding to characterization charts, and fixing small details in several thisclosetobeing finished manuscripts.

I feel so productive!!

Tonight's post is from the short story, Once in a Lifetime. I have a thing for writing characters who just can't fight the pull of their attraction, even if they've done stupid things. J

Here's the tagline:

Evan McCoy overhears Sasha Knepf shout his name when she's in the throes of passion with another man. He confronts her the next day in the hotel suite and demands an explanation, which she's not inclined to provide since he ditched her after their second dance at the ball.

And the snippety peek…

Sasha blinked. "Why the flaming hell would you want to hook up with me after I slept with the deputy commissioner?"

Evan shrugged, considering the question fair. "Oh, I don't know, Sasha. My name sounded pretty damn good coming from you." He pinned her with his gaze. "Like it burst from somewhere deep in your soul."

Something fleeting crossed her features, a moment of truth she didn't want him to see.

She quickly covered by rolling her eyes. "I think you're just pissed because the DC got one up on you"

He snorted. "I don't like the guy, true. But maybe if you'd stuck around when I got called away by the commissioner, the night would have turned out differently."

Sasha glanced away. "You sure about that, Evan?"

Instead of answering he countered with a question. "Why'd you wear the dress, Sasha?" She hated anything resembling formalwear.

Sasha met his gaze again. "You called my hygiene into question. I had to prove you wrong."

He inclined his head. "Ah…so it wasn't about yanking my chain?"

She didn't answer. Really didn't have to, because tweaking him definitely came into play.

She quirked a brow. "It's a dress, Evan. Not a big deal."

He shook his head. "No, no. You're wrong, Sasha." He moved in closer, leaving less than a foot between them. "What did you say? Oh…yeah. Once in a lifetime opportunity." He took another step forward, "Well, that sounded like a promise to me." Another move closer. "And you didn't deliver."

Sasha held her ground. "Careful, Evan. You're gonna bite off more than you can chew."

He grinned. "My teeth are just fine, Detective. I think you're the one who can't handle it."

She rose to the challenge. "Try me."

She didn't have to ask twice.

Evan leaned in, his mouth inches from hers. "I think I will." His lips crashed against hers, his tongue slipping past her teeth to explore at leisure.

Sasha moaned low in her throat and dragged him against her, her hands grasping his biceps, nails digging in.

So much fun writing these characters and their conflict resolution. :D

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: Merry and Bright

July 14, 2013

Greetings!

After what seems likes months of rain, we got an actual hot, steamy summer day. I'd almost forgotten what getting hit in the face with a blast of humidity felt like. LOL Relearned pretty quickly though. :D

Tonight's post helps me remember the cold, frigid weather of winter. It's from an upcoming submission for a special call with Silver Publishing (if I get the manuscript completed on time. LOL). Merry and Bright will feature three people who decide spending the holidays together is way better than going it solo…especially when they end up getting festive in bed. :D

Here's the tagline:

Presley Griffith can't go home for the holidays and instead of being alone, she ends up in bed with Frazier Boyle and Gunnar Stewart. The cop and the firefighter heat things up and cool them down and Presley can't think of a better way to be merry and bright.

And a snippety peek…

Presley awoke slowly, by degrees, her senses registering one by one. The first…hearing rhythmic sounds of breathing—not hers—surrounding her on both sides. Next came smell, the subtle aroma of male, female, and sex hovered in the air, a perfect blend of three into one. Smiling, her tongue darted out, wetting her lips and the taste of Frazier with a side of Gunnar had her shifting, stretching, and sighing with remembered pleasure.

Still on the fringes of wakefulness, Presley discovered the delicious feeling of Frazier's fingers gliding over her clit, making her wet, had woken her. Gunnar worked her breasts, his big hands kneading both. A shudder rippled through her. Her eyes popped open when she realized last night hadn't been a dream. Her gaze met Frazier's and she blinked, grasping for something intelligent to say. Why didn't some kind of etiquette manual exist for how to greet the two men she'd had sex with the night before—at the same time?

Frazier picked up his pace and she fought the urge to buck up against his hand. Gunnar tweaked her nipples and she held back a gasp.

Huffing out a breath, she spoke to neither man in particular. "Um, good morning? Er, no, I mean Merry Christmas, right?" A groan escaped before she could prevent it.

How much more stupid could she sound?

Frazier's lips quirked, but his gaze remained steady. "You're not feeling awkward, are you?" His fingers swirled around her bundle of nerves and she bit back a moan. "Because we don't want you to feel anything but pure pleasure, right, Gunnar?"

Gunnar tugged lightly on the taut nubs between his fingers. "Exactly, right, Fraz." His hands palmed her breasts, his fingers massaging the flesh. "Are you feeling merry and bright, Presley?"

She shuddered again. "God, yes."

Leaning forward, she caught Frazier's lips in a heated kiss the exact moment he pushed two fingers inside her wet sheath. Her hands smoothed down his chest and over his taut abdomen, going lower to find his swollen erection waiting for her grasp.

Grabbing hold, she tugged gently, marveling anew over how perfectly he'd fit inside her. Breaking the kiss, she angled her head around to meet Gunnar's lips in a passionate embrace, sliding her tongue inside his mouth to explore at leisure. His hard length rested between the cheeks of her ass and she pushed back, drawing a moan from him.

"Watching you two kiss is hot as hell." Frazier's lips found her throat and sucked lightly at the skin.

If possible, he grew harder in her hand and Presley wanted nothing more than to have him buried deep inside her again. Couldn't wait to have both wrapped around her and bringing her untold bliss in the process.

Easing back from the kiss, she demanded. "More. I want more."

The guys jockeyed their positions, Gunner moving his cock down and lifting her leg to drape it over his hip. Frazier got up on his knees and moved up, putting his hard, fat length close to her face. Presley licked her lips and opened wide, sliding her mouth over the large head and taking as much of him as could. Swirling her tongue around the velvety shaft, she slowly pulled back and eased forward until she got a good rhythm going.

Frazier's fingers threaded through her hair, keeping it out of her face. Gunnar slid his fingers along her folds then coated his long cock with her juices. He teased at her entrance, pushing only the head inside before pulling out, again and again, until Presley whimpered around Frazier's dick.

"Give it to her, Gunnar. She's been a very good girl, don't you think." Frazier dropped a hand to play with a nipple.

Gunnar thrust hard, seating himself fully.

Presley pulled back, Frazier's heavy girth leaving her mouth with a loud pop. "Oh, God, that feels good." She wriggled her hips, grinding her ass into Gunnar's groin before resuming the task of sucking Frazier.

Lots of good cheer going around in Presley's apartment. And still plenty of awkward to deal with afterwards. J

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin

Sunday Snippet: Just Dessert

Hi!

I hope everyone had a great Fourth and enjoyed lots of pretty fireworks and great food. I'm lucky and get to watch another extravaganza next weekend. :D

Tonight's post is from Just Dessert, another short in the Black Unicorn Press 'verse. Brian and Lucy get to remember how they got together. Fun times!!

Here's the tagline:

On Brian and Lucy's anniversary, they receive a gift from his gran that has the couple reliving their first night together.

Here's a snippety peek…

Lucy Sanderson put her key in the slot, unlocked the door, and tried to push it open. "Well, hell." She gave the wood surface a shove with her hip and it finally swung inward, but only partially.

Just enough so Lucy could peer around and see what blocked the progress. "Brian!  Did you order something for delivery?" He knew better than to arrange for anything to be brought during convention season.

Struggling with her keys and luggage, she heaved a sigh. "Bri—"

"Right here, Luce. And no, didn't order anything." He set his overnight bag on the floor and angled sideways to fit through the door.

Moving a large box out of the way, he made room for Lucy to enter their apartment. She dropped her carry-on and rolled the suitcase to sit beside it.

"Well, what the hell? I didn't either. Wonder if Els went online shopping and gave the wrong address again." Her brother sometimes forgot when they'd be out of town for extended periods.

Brian turned the oversized container around and looked at the shipping label. "Nope." He glanced up. "It's from my gran." A wide grin split his face. "And it's for you and me."

Lucy chuckled. The last time Celia Wells sent something from the UK, it only had Lucy's name on it. Brian took offense until he saw the pretty tri-fold organizer the older woman sent so Lucy could stash all their carryout and delivery menus in something other than the haphazard heap she normally left on the counter in the kitchen. Since he'd been bugging her to clear the mess, he laughed out loud when he read his grandmother's pithy message attached with a sticky note. Simply, it read: This should help keep the peace.

"I wonder what she decided we need this time." Walking over to the desk, Lucy grabbed a pair of scissors and handed them over to Brian. "Open it. Let's see what Gran sent this time."

Brian snipped the tape and ran the pointed edge down the center of the box between the flaps. Flipping them up, he reached in and dragged out a huge picnic basket filled to the brim. A purple envelope stuck up toward the back and Brian grabbed it, handing it over to Lucy. She worked on getting it unsealed while he dug through the items in the huge hamper.

"Geez, Luce. She sent a veritable feast."

Several types of crackers, jams, and summer sausages, along with two flavors of wine quickly made their way to the area outside the basket. Brian dug around and found plates, utensils, and goblets and finally, taper candles with crystal holders.

He looked up, confusion knitting his brow. "What's this all about?"

Lucy waved the card back and forth. "Let's see, yeah?" She showed him the front, a quilted pattern in a bright riot of colors. "The outside says, 'For You', and the inside…" She opened and read the feathery scrawl out loud. "'Here's to my absolute favourite couple, celebrating their anniversary. Enjoy an evening in, on me. Love, Gran.'" Lucy paused. "Shit. It has been two years since we got together." She shot Brian a look. "Did you remember?"

He shrugged. "We've been a little busy." His lips quirked. "That's what I have a gran for."

Lucy snorted and scanned the rest of the card then laughed. "There's more. She added a post script. 'I would've sent a cake, but I figured Lucy would have dessert covered."

Brian's mouth dropped open. "Luce, you didn't tell her how we got together, did you?" His cheeks flushed red.

Lucy barked out a laugh. "Brian, have you met your gran? The woman has a wicked sense of humor." She walked over and plopped down beside Brian on the floor. "And have you ever tried to not tell her something when she really wants to know?"

Brian eased back and braced his shoulders against the wall. "Oh yeah. I've tried and failed." He chuckled then tugged Lucy up onto his lap. "So, two years, Luce. I can honestly say I've never, ever had a better dessert than the one we shared our first night together." His lips nuzzled her ear.

Lucy angled around. "Yeah, me too, Brian." She leaned in and captured his mouth for a quick kiss. "Even if it was five o'clock in the morning."

Brian snickered. "Best time for dessert, ever."

Lucy couldn't disagree. It proved to be the perfect time, after spending the entire night talking at the office, to ask Brian over for a sweet treat. Her decision to become the tasty delight never seemed to bother him—he'd been with her ever since…

I love writing these brief little peeks into Brian and Lucy's world. The duo is sooooo much fun!

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: Green-Eyed Monster

Hi!

It's been a rather trying week on the personal front. It's funny how that happens. Little annoyances pop up when least expected and sometimes snowball into raging nightmares. LOL

Seriously, not quite that bad, and thankfully nothing with immediate family. J

Tonight's post is from Green-Eyed Monster, a novella where jealousy rears its ugly head…maybe too late for Dani to get the man she's always wanted. J

Here's the tagline:

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 dropped by the hospital to check on Kyra's status. Neal sat, slumped in a chair beside the bed, his head thrown back against the cushion. Dani didn't like the ugly jealousy swirling in her heart. Of course he'd be concerned enough to stay with Kyra.

Dani stepped into the room, letting the door close softly behind her. "I'm sorry I ruined your date." She spoke quietly, in case he slept.

Neal angled his head toward her, his lips quirking briefly. "You didn't. Sasha Chan pretty much had that covered." He turned his face away, his eyes gazing upward. "I think the universe is trying to tell me something." A heavy sigh escaped and his eyes closed.

Dani weighed her guilt against trying to find out what Neal meant. Her curiosity won out.

Moving further into the room, she laid a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up then over to the prone figure of Kyra. Blowing out a long exhale, he rose and worked the kinks from his shoulders.

His head jerked toward the door. "Come on. You can buy me a coffee and I'll explain."

The fact she didn't have to voice the question cemented itself to her brain. He always had an uncanny ability of knowing her thoughts…sometimes before she even did. She'd never had the kinship with anyone she had with him.

Too bad she realized how deeply they'd connected after he'd finally given up on her.

Following Neal out into the corridor, she turned and nodded toward the elevator. "Cafeteria is still open. Have you eaten since—" She stopped, unwilling to put a voice to her role in Kyra's shooting.

Neal shrugged. "Been a little preoccupied."

Dani laid a hand on his arm. "Then chow's on me. You need more than a caffeine high. You gotta eat, Neal."

He hesitated, shifting his gaze toward the door. Dani's heart sank. He'd go back in, and she wouldn't have a chance to find out what had him tied up in knots.

Aside from her part in almost killing his girlfriend.

Heaving a sigh, he headed in the direction of the elevator.

Dani let out the breath she held and followed him. She'd have her chance to be there for Neal, to dig down and drag out whatever put the weariness in his eyes. The bone-tired expression started way before their botched sting, and she aimed to set his world right again.

Lord knew she'd done enough to make it wrong.

Dani and Neal have an interesting conversation…and she tries really hard to set the jealousy aside and truly be there for him. But Neal won't make it easy. Where's the fun in that, right?

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin

Sunday Snippet: Busted in Bubbles

Greetings!

Happy Father's Day to all the great and wonderful dads out there, my own included. :D

It's fun to reflect on my relationship with my dad. We didn't always see eye to eye and had a few rocky years to get through—I even moved in with my Gram (his mom) at one point. I think it's why I love to write about troubled waters between dads and sons and/or daughters. In my case, I got lucky and my dad and I grew as individuals and found our common ground. My husband and his father never quite got to a place where they could embrace their differences and discuss them without rancor.

Tonight's post is from Busted in Bubbles, which I've recently showcased here, but the relationship between Emsley and her dad is touched on and I thought it fitting to feature it again. While my dad isn't a criminal, I do have personal experience working with him—my dad and I (and my two brothers) worked for the same company for almost ten years and often had to check the personal relationship at the door—so much easier said than done. J

Here's the tagline again:

Emsley and Rayne turn up at the same conventions several times a year and Emsley always short sheets Rayne's bed. Imagine her surprise when she lets herself into his cabin to follow tradition and discovers Rayne soaking in a tub full of bubbles. Busted, she can flee the scene or…join a very hot man for some bath time fun.

And another snippety peek…

Emsley Bourne smiled, whistling a happy tune when she pulled the drapes over the array of product displayed on the booth tables. The day's sales were the best her company had so far this season. And she'd copped the biggest score to date. She'd like to see her two co-workers top it.

Right. Wouldn't happen. One sale had put her way over quota…maybe for the year. Not bad for someone who grew up surrounded by criminal elements.

Emsley's client wondered how she'd gotten so good at knowing every product inside out and upside down. She explained she field tested every one. In the safety of their production center, of course. But her experience ran far and wide. And she kept her skills up to date.

Usually with harmless pranks. And most of the time with no one being the wiser.

"Emsley?" Tisha Gordo called from the side exit. "They're ready to lock the place down until it's time to load up in the morning. You coming?"

Emsley nodded, letting the last bit of fabric fall to cover product. "Yeah. All set." She met Tish at the door. "Are you hitting up the fancy pants dinner?"

Tish rubbed her hand over her tummy. "Mmm. You better know it. I can't wait to feast on the fabulous grub."

Emsley laughed. Tish could put away food like no one else. And her tiny frame never showed a trace of it.

Tish cocked her head to the side. "You're skipping it, aren't you?"

Emsley chuckled. "You might know me a little too well. Yeah, I'm bowing out. I'll hold off until the final night per usual."

Tish jerked her head back and forth. "You and your weird traditions. Then again, after today, you could pack up and head home. Skip the rest of the conventions scheduled this year, so the rest of us can earn some commissions."

Emsley wrinkled her nose. "Where's the fun in that? Besides, if I'm not around, you'd never get a pee break during the day."

Tisha growled. "Don't remind me. Stupid Bobby thinks women should have bigger bladders."

Emsley snorted. "No, the moron just heads for the back area and takes a piss in a bottle when nobody's around." She should know…she'd caught him.

Twice.

Tish grimaced. "Did you really have to tell me that?" She paused outside her room. "Now I need to shower to get rid of the creepy feeling."

Emsley shrugged. "Yeah, sorry about that. Enjoy your feasting."

Tish used her keycard and entered the room, waving a farewell over her shoulder. Emsley turned and made a beeline across the hall and let herself into her own. She had maybe three minutes to change and get her traditional conference fun underway.

She loved to race against a ticking clock.

Needless to say, Emsley's dad made some very interesting career choices. LOL

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin