SFF Saturday

 

Well, I’m back again! It’s Saturday, so it’s time for an SFF Saturday snippet! What’s SFF Saturday? It’s a blog ring of SF/F snippets and you can check out other SFF Saturday posts, as well.

This time, I’m sharing a snippet not from a WIP, but from my short story Missing Persons, which is included in the Trust and Treachery anthology. More info about that below the snippet. Missing Persons is a short story about an artist, his family, and the secrets they are all hiding. Without further ado, here’s a snippet:

Lemonade sloshed close to the edge of the glasses each step Alec took up to the attic. He slowed his pace and managed to make it the rest of the way without spilling either drink. He set down the glasses on the first flat surface he found—an old drawing board splattered with ink lying across a packing box near the door—then turned to address Laura.

The attic was empty.

No. Not again.

There was no way she had left unnoticed; the creaking of the old house would have announced her departure. Or he would have run into her on the stairs.

Prickly dread crept over him. A stack of paintings leaned against the far wall. He should have packed those into the van first. He knelt down before the outermost and studied the image.

Oh hell.

There she was—chestnut hair, her lush lips and beautiful face frozen in wonder, standing in a wizard’s laboratory. If she couldn’t find her way out, Brian would kill him this time. Another girlfriend, another painting.

And when Alec says that his Brian (his brother) will kill him…he actually means that. Yeah.

Anyway, if you like this story and want to read more, please check out Trust & Treachery: Tales of Power and Intrigue at Amazon. There’s also a Goodreads giveaway running until July 7th, if you’d like to enter for a chance to win.

The anthology contains 26 stories and 2 poems that explore the delicate dance between trust and treachery across a sweeping variety of genres, time periods, and universes.

Look at that! It’s Saturday! That means it’s time for another round of SFF Saturday posts! What’s SFF Saturday? It’s a blog ring of SF/F snippets and you can check out other SFF Saturday posts, as well.

Here’s another snippet from Old Wounds for you. This is the twenty-first part. You can find the other parts here.

When we last left Master Sorne and Ambrose, he told her if he didn’t do as Moroloch said, the criminal would send Ambrose his daughter’s head.

Sorne pushed the image of her own son’s severed head from her mind. “Why come to me?”

“As a child, I heard all the stories about the war with the Beshtas. The King, the Rivvis, Raventhe—and you, Captain Sorne. You know the Palace. I—“ he faltered. “I’ve never been to Estefe.”

She would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. If he hadn’t pointed a gun at Dilan’s head, if it were not Moroloch, if there wasn’t a three-year-old girl being held hostage. She hoped—beyond all hope—that the child was still alive.

Sorne has a history. Not all of it is happy.

It’s time for another installment of Science Fiction Saturday! It’s a blog ring of SF/F snippets and you can check out other SFF Saturday posts, as well.

Here’s another snippet from Old Wounds for you. This is the twentieth part. You can find the other parts here.

When we last left Master Sorne and Ambrose, she’d told him Moroloch wanted a very large sapphire.

Of course, the King’s stone. Moroloch was a right bastard. Still, she let Ambrose voice the plan.

“There’s only one other, in the King’s treasury.”

It was actually on a shelf in Oradon’s bedroom, but only those closest to the King would know that. She nodded. “And so they sent you to steal the one in the Palace. Or lose your daughter.”

His shrug was one of helplessness. “If I refused, he said he’d send me my daughter’s head.”

Moroloch is not on Sorne’s good guy list…

Well, hello again! I want to blog more this year, so I’m back posting for Science Fiction Saturday! It’s a blog ring of SF/F snippets and you can check out other SFF Saturday posts, as well.

Here’s another snippet from Old Wounds for you. This is the nineteenth part. You can find the other parts here.

The cue word for this week is Cascade. I’m going to cheat a bit, because I haven’t been around in a while. What we have here is a cascade of trouble for Ambrose.

When we last left Master Sorne, she’d declared Moroloch, the man who’d given Ambrose a job, to be no gentleman.

“I know that now,” Ambrose said. “When the shipment disappeared, they broke into my home in the dark of the night, bound both me and my wife and took our girl.” His hands shook and anger turned his face darker. “I couldn’t do a damned thing.”

“They wanted you impotent.”

He jerked his head up. “Well, they succeeded. By the time Moroloch came, well into the light of the next day, I was—not myself. He offered me a way to get my child back. He didn’t care about the garnets or the emeralds, just the sapphire.”

Wonder what’s up with the sapphire?

It’s Saturday! Which means more Science Fiction Saturday posts! It’s a blog ring of SF/F snippets and you can check out other SFF Saturday posts, as well.

Today, I’m sharing more from a short story called Old Wounds. This is the eighteenth part. You can find the other parts here.

When we left Master Sorne, Ambrose was about to explain what the cargo he “lost” was…

“Gems, mostly lower-grade garnets, but also some very large uncut emeralds, and one sapphire the size of an egg that was to go to the capital.”

To Estefe. A sapphire that large should only go to one person, but the way this was playing out… “It was not sent to the King.”

“No, nor to any jeweler I knew.” He held up a hand to forestall her comment. “I’ve sent shipments of jewels to the City before; I know the names of the best. No, this was to a gentleman named Moroloch.”

Sorne nearly reached for the hilt of her sword. “Moroloch is no gentleman.”

Huh! How about that.

Well, hello again! It’s Saturday, and I’m trying to get better about posting my Science Fiction Fantasy Saturday snippet. It’s been a while, but  here’s another snippet from Old Wounds for you. This is the seventeenth part. You can find the other parts here. And honestly, even I need to figure out where we were… ah, here we go!

When we left Master Sorne, Ambrose let on that he’s a trader. And he made a bad deal with the wrong person. What happen? Well…

He nodded. “I also move other items, including delicate or expensive cargo.”

Ah. “You lost someone’s shipment.”

“I don’t lose shipments,” Ambrose said, each word sharper than the last. “It was stolen, probably by the bastard who hired me. I should have said no. Had I been smart—” He ran a hand through his hair.

“The cargo?”

Oh, well, look at the time. I guess we’ll find that bit out next week!

(ps. You can check out other SFF Saturday posts, too.)

Well, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’ve been rather busy lately, between the day job and life and writing. I’m waist-deep in revising my fantasy novel, Duty to the Crown, based on my agent’s suggestions. It’s all good stuff. Tightening things, raising the stakes, allowing the character to be more of who he is… and making the story more epic. That novel is set in the same world as the snippets I had been sharing of Old Wounds.

Meanwhile, my alter-ego has also been writing a romance. So it’s been a lot of back and forth between projects.

But I have missed SFF Saturday quite a lot. So here I am again! And I noticed there’s a prompt now… shades.

Well, I didn’t have anything with the word “shades” in it, so I chose to use shade. Here’s a snippet of a novel that’s currently trunked called The Tyras Key. It takes place about 350 years after Duty to the Crown. So same world, just later.

Had she been home, Silvia’s shower would have run cold by now. She missed the shock of the change that told her when to stop sulking. In this shower, she could regret forever. She rose and shut the water off. Enough.

She donned the dress her father had left for her. While made of silk, it was of a simple cut, nothing like the ball gown from the previous night. The dress was a violet close to the shade of a twilight sky and had a belt of black leather long enough that its tail rapped at her ankles. The colors spoke of endings, of death.

Perfect to wear for an execution.

 

Boy, Saturday snuck up on me! I can’t believe it’s time for another SFF Saturday Snippet! What’s SFF Saturday? It’s a group of authors who post snippets of SFF prose and poetry for comment. You can check out other SFF Saturday posts, too.

I’m so behind on everything lately! (Including commenting on other SFFSat posts.) I’m spending the weekend playing catchup. In the meantime, here’s another snippet from Old Wounds for you. This is the sixteenth part. You can find the other parts here.

When we left Master Sorne, Ambrose had just commented that he made the wrong deal with the wrong person.

He shifted on the stool. “I’m not sure why you’re helping me and not killing me.”

Sorne leaned back in her chair. “Your daughter is three. How would killing you help her?”

He chewed on that for a moment. “I’m a trader, from Farlon Harbor. I generally acquire and transport quarried stone—marble and the like—for building projects.”

That explained his costal accent. “By land and sea?”

Aaaaand that’s 10 sentences. A trader, huh? They never get into bad situations…

 

Another Saturday has arrived! That means it’s time for another SFF Saturday Snippet! What’s SFF Saturday? It’s a group of authors who post snippets of SFF prose and poetry for comment. You can check out other SFF Saturday posts, too.

Today is yard work day! Lots of rain means long grass and plenty of weeds. So while I’m out pushing the mower, here’s another snippet from Old Wounds for you. This is the fifteenth part. You can find the other parts here.

When we left Master Sorne, she’d given Ambrose back his flintlock pistol.

He took the weapon, but looked at it as if it were a dead fish. He’d perched himself onto a stool near the table.

“You’ll need it later, I expect,” she said.

His face twisted at that. “I’m not built for this kind of thing.” But he pocketed the pistol anyway.

His earlier actions belied that statement. Desperate men and desperate actions. “Tell me what happened.”

“I made the wrong deal with the wrong person.”

Yeah, that’s usually how these things go, huh?

 

Another Saturday has arrived! That means it’s time for another SFF Saturday Snippet! What’s SFF Saturday? It’s a group of authors who post snippets of SFF prose and poetry for comment. You can check out other SFF Saturday posts, too.

Kind of an exciting week on the blog. I wrote about my issues with writing women MCs and then blogged my letter to SFWA. And then my blog exploded. Things seem to be settling down, though.

I’m off today to meet with my writing mentor, but I’ll leave you with another snippet from Old Wounds. This is the fourteenth part. You can find the other parts here.

When we left Master Sorne, Ambrose, her stranger, was feeling a bit woozy and had asked to sit down.

“In back.” She nodded over her shoulder. “Let me turn the sign and I’ll join you.”

She walked past him, picking up the gun as she went. It took a moment to disarm the thing. Rumor had it even the Palace guard trained to use them now. Good to know all the weapons, though a part of her balked at that thought. But it wasn’t her place any more.

She flipped the sign and locked her door. When she joined Ambrose in the workroom, she handed the flintlock back to him and took a seat in her worktable chair.

She did what? o.O