"I used Grammarly to grammar check this post, because ... it's Monday morning and wine may have featured in my Sunday night ...okay there was no may have, it did. It was a very nice Pinot Noir."
Good morning! Happy Monday to you!! :)
Cheerful enough for you?? Cos if it's not, just say, I can do better ...
Some of you know that this month #WritersPlot is doing a 30 or 50k challenge. And being the host, and because I'd rather like to finish Eraserbyte soon ... I've decided to do it too.
This time I'm not requiring an entirely new body of work, this is about finishing a novel not starting one.
And by crikey they're all getting in there and writing their wee fingers to nubs. It's good stuff.
For fun this morning ... because it's Monday, had a big weekend, and I feel like sharing but not about the weekend. :) I'm going to post some byte series excerpts. Was going to be favorite excerpts but I can't choose. I can't. (That is actually REALLY hard because I love all my words, hahaha.)
In order beginning to end but not in favorite order ... because that's mission impossible.
I removed the cell and laptop from Caine’s car while Mac persuaded Aidan to come with us. I took my bag from Aidan.
He looked into my eyes. “What the fucking hell happened in your kitchen?”
“I don’t know. But I think someone died.”
“Is this job related? Did someone come after you because of who you are?”
“I doubt it.”
“Some random stranger decided to kill someone in your kitchen?”
“Get in the truck, Aidan. I have no answers yet.”
“You must have some idea.”
“Not yet I don’t. Try a little patience.”
Aidan climbed into Mac’s truck; he was not a happy camper.
Eddie almost fell into the hallway.
I was somewhat surprised to see Mac’s older brother: lifelong tormentor and now something new. Savior?
“Mac, I’ve got a…” Eddie started then wisely stopped.
“… very small brain?” I offered.
He scowled as he processed my comment, which didn’t improve his looks. It took nearly a minute before he spoke again. “No, it’s mom. She wants Mac.”
I smiled. “Of course she does. Funny that she hasn’t called. Usually there are upwards of six calls a day.”
Eddie floundered; his mouth flapped.
“On your way, Eddie. We have a prior engagement.”
I closed the door. Mac leaned back on the hall wall. He had the good grace to look sheepish.
“I have no words!” I said, shaking my head.
“I bet you find some,” he replied.
“You think now is the best time to get mouthy?”
The corners of his mouth turned up. “No, ma’am.”
“That’s what I thought. We should get ready.”
I was in no mood to play along. He was huffing and puffing through tightly-pursed lips. I suspected his anal sphincter looked like that too, as it tightened around the broomstick manifestly residing up his bum.
His eyes squinted in a nasty fashion.
My left hand slipped into the back pocket of my jeans. With my fingers curled around the object, I pulled it out and let my hand fall by my side; my fingers opened the blade without the need of my eyes. I felt it lock into place.
Could he see what was in my hand now? If he could, he didn’t react.
His lips tightened.
Must be one hell of a straw he’s sucking on.
I swapped the cold blade to my right hand. His eyes never left mine.
“You have no idea how much I detest you,” I replied. “You are to never go near my child. Make sure you understand that, Eddie. Never.” My hand tightened around the handle of the blade.
He huffed with pent-up rage.
“We’re good,” Kurt replied. “Aren’t we, Conway?”
“Yeah, fuc’n awesome.”
Kurt released his grip a little. I pushed back, twisted, and pulled my arm free. I couldn’t even feel my ribs anymore. Blind rage flowed in my veins. My right fist connected with the side of Kurt’s face. My left hit him under the jaw. I connected with his face again with my right fist and the next thing I knew I was on the ground with Kurt straddling me. He had my arms pinned to the ground above my head. I bucked, getting my feet flat on the ground. His face was three inches above mine. “Stop!”
“Get off me.”
“Calm the fuck down.”
Energy sparked. His eyes grew dark. His tongue flicked over his lips. Things stirred within me. “Doc, I …”
“Yeah, Conway,” his voice matched mine. Quiet. Husky. Unsteady.
Blue eyes stared back into mine. The expression I saw was interest, not confusion, or concern.
Interest. He knew something and I needed to know what he knew. Somewhere beyond the scene that immersed me, I could just detect reality. Like a half-open door you catch sight of in your peripheral vision. I kicked it shut. The world disappeared with a bang. Chance stood his ground.
“Who are you?” I said.
“Christopher Chance,” he replied.
A grin blasted across his face then disappeared. “Nah, I’m an actor.”
I swallowed. “And you’re here because?”
“Because you have a warped imagination and you think I know something about one of the men involved in this case.”
“Do you?” I repeated.
“What do you think?”
My thoughts needed to stay within the confines of my skull because I thought he was shaping up to be an infuriating sonofabitch and that wasn’t helpful.
“Are we going to do this all day, or are you going to tell me?”
He smiled. It was boyish. I liked it and that annoyed me on a whole new level. But his charm was not going to sway me from my course, after all this was my fantasy.
I took a piece of pizza and ate it. I’d finished the slice and reached for another before I found any words.
“Tequila would go well with this.”
A smile caught Kurt’s eyes and bounced across the countertop.
“Snakebite,” he replied.
“Which recipe do you use?”
“Tequila, Jack, and Tabasco sauce.”
I leaned down and opened the cabinet next to me. Didn’t even have to get off the stool. One by one I set bottles and shot glasses on the counter. Tequila, Jack, Tabasco and two shot glasses.
Kurt moved the pizza aside and poured the shots. He passed me one.
We raised our glasses. Slamming the shots simultaneously.
Heat raced through my body. Kurt lined the glasses up again and poured another round.
“You’re encouraging this,” I said. “You know that right?”
“Let’s call it medicinal.”
I slammed the second shot.
“I need another glass of medicine.”
Another shot fired. Nine. He kept yelling insults. I had my window and took it. While Mike engaged the shooter with witty banter, I broke cover. He stepped out to fire again. My finger closed on the trigger. Surprise registered as he thumped to the ground.
I ran over and kicked his weapon away. He was clutching his shoulder and groaning.
“Are we having fun yet?” I asked toeing him with my boot.
“What did you do that for?” he growled, his voice laden with accusation. “I’m bleeding. You shot me.”
“That’s what happens when you act like a moron.” I showed him my badge. “Care to explain?”
He moved a little. I saw a wire going to his ear. I pulled out his earpiece and followed the wire to inside his shirt. A radio, taped to his body. Weird.
Weird. Oh, crap. I took a few steps back.
“Who hired you?”
“What’d he look like?”
“Never met him face to face,” he said.
“Did he give you that?” I pointed at the radio.
“Yeah, told me it was part of the deal.”
“He listening now?”
“I guess so.”
I guessed so too.
“What do you call him?”
I walked back to the dumpsters, willing my legs not to run, not yet. I ducked behind the dumpsters and hurried to Mike.
“We gotta go, now. Same route as I explained before.”
He took a deep breath and grimaced. I’d forgotten about the bruises on his back. He sucked it up.
“Because Colonel Mustard did it outside the rec room with an IED.”
“What?” Mike asked.
I still had my Glock in my hand, seemed wiser to keep it there. I grabbed his right hand with my left.
“Stick close and move fast.”
“The shooter?” he asked.
“He’s the bomb. Don’t think he knows.”
“Whoa. Blast range?”
I smiled at him. “We’ll be fine.”
I tapped on the green icon on the screen. “SSA Conway.”
“Agent Troy is in your office ma’am. He insists it’s important.”
I groaned. I stood Delta A down for the weekend and now it was over. Agent Troy. Mentoring was never going to be a good thing for me.
Mitch’s fingers ran along my spine. Distracting.
“I’m coming in. Might take an hour or so,” I said, trying to keep the smile from my voice. “Tell him to wait.”
I hung up and dropped my phone on the floor. It thudded into the carpet.
Fingers traced a pattern on my back.
“What’s this from?” Mitch asked kissing the area his fingers traced.
“A bad day at the office,” I replied on a ragged breath.
“And this?” His lips brushed over my lower back causing my back to arch involuntarily.
“Same day.” I rolled toward him and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Half an hour and I have to go,” I whispered kissing his neck.
* * *
Wasn't that fun??
Have a great day.