TITLE: To The Bones
GENRE: MG Historical
“Stay here,” I said, and flipped the lead rope around the post. Boomerang snorted and twisted his ears. “Now wait a minute.” I pointed at my mule, right between the eyes. “We have a deal. Don’t you forget it.” Boomerang bobbed his head. “And wish me luck.”
Straightening myself up tall, I took a deep breath, and tamped the pockets of my vest. My sketchbook was there, nestled safe. The breeze twirled away a billow of dust and I glanced up, the skin on my arms prickling. Not a cloud in sight to temper the stifle. Well. No more putting off. Straightening my hat, I took a deep breath, then marched up the steps and through the swinging door of the Como Station train depot.
My boots clicked across the planks. Keep them in a steady, confident rhythm. But not too fast. Don’t want to seem desperate.
Mr. Simms in Medicine Bow had told me to come out here looking for work, that there was plenty of pack hauling to do in these parts. He’d smirked a little, which made me wonder, but I really needed the work, so I’d come. To a train station in the middle of nothing.
I reached the ticket window, my heart thumping like jackrabbits. A man with thick black hair stood at a counter in the room behind, sifting through papers. He didn’t look up, so I took off my hat and cleared my throat.
Miss Snark's First Victim
Wednesday, April 3, 2019
Secret Agent #3
TITLE: Ruin of Souls
GENRE: Adult Thriller- Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance
Beautiful Dreamer, wake unto me.
Everyone with narcolepsy can feel the Shadow and the Shadow can feel each and every one of us. So, I kept my head on a nervous pivot, watching every angle and blind corner of the cemetery. I’d slipped into the hypnogogic state, the stage between waking and sleeping, three minutes ago and the clock was ticking.
“Something’s touching me!” My voice rang hollow against the headstones. The hot, spongy breath of the graveyard hung above our heads like a sodden blanket. Its misty tendrils reached for our necks like ethereal nooses.
“Mel, you have a six-foot perimeter. Nothing is touching you,” Josh assured me, but I pointed to my foot and his sharp, gray eyes dropped to the cable slithering across my sandal.
“Son of a b****! Matt!” Josh’s voice grated across my nerve endings. Ordinarily, I liked the low rocky tumble of testosterone in his voice. It matched his muscle-corded arms and his wide-shouldered frame, but tonight it pulled at my peace of mind. We were all on edge. Something was wrong with the cemetery.
Matt dropped the cable he had been dragging across my foot and I kicked it away without looking at it. I could already hear it hissing to life. The cool rubber had warmed to soft serpent skin. I knew it hadn’t transformed into a real snake, but the hallucination triggered the same razor slice of adrenalin. All four members of the Ghost Towne Investigations team knew not to touch me.
GENRE: Adult Thriller- Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance
Beautiful Dreamer, wake unto me.
Everyone with narcolepsy can feel the Shadow and the Shadow can feel each and every one of us. So, I kept my head on a nervous pivot, watching every angle and blind corner of the cemetery. I’d slipped into the hypnogogic state, the stage between waking and sleeping, three minutes ago and the clock was ticking.
“Something’s touching me!” My voice rang hollow against the headstones. The hot, spongy breath of the graveyard hung above our heads like a sodden blanket. Its misty tendrils reached for our necks like ethereal nooses.
“Mel, you have a six-foot perimeter. Nothing is touching you,” Josh assured me, but I pointed to my foot and his sharp, gray eyes dropped to the cable slithering across my sandal.
“Son of a b****! Matt!” Josh’s voice grated across my nerve endings. Ordinarily, I liked the low rocky tumble of testosterone in his voice. It matched his muscle-corded arms and his wide-shouldered frame, but tonight it pulled at my peace of mind. We were all on edge. Something was wrong with the cemetery.
Matt dropped the cable he had been dragging across my foot and I kicked it away without looking at it. I could already hear it hissing to life. The cool rubber had warmed to soft serpent skin. I knew it hadn’t transformed into a real snake, but the hallucination triggered the same razor slice of adrenalin. All four members of the Ghost Towne Investigations team knew not to touch me.
Secret Agent #2
TITLE: The Mechanical Cosmic Seed
GENRE: MG Science Fiction, A fairy tale retelling
Chapter 1-Sabatoge
Jackie suppressed the urge to glance at the clock a second time as she waited for the perfect moment to launch her cunning plan, and not even rolling nausea or the spaceship's bumpy descent would extinguish her drive of going through with it.
To keep her composure, she squeezed her eyes shut and released a slow breath as her brother, being a jerk as always, piloted her beloved Milky Way. Just wait—in a few minutes, his smug smile would be replaced with blood-curdling screams. Best. Sound. Ever.
She tapped her toes along with the blinking of dials desperate for her finesse. Piloting Milky Way came to her like second nature, and yet, without her behind the wheel, all she could do was bide her time and buff the fingerprints from the dash until just the right moment. Malik and Mom didn’t honor the ship like she did. In fact, they treated her like a hunk of metal instead of family. But she didn’t feel this way. Piloting Milky Way gave her life purpose. Her plan would at no time put her baby in danger, but instead, Malik would have to admit that she, Jackie, could be the one and only master of Milky Way.
Her insides fluttered with the longing of regaining control of the ship. She’d give Malik one last chance to give her command the civil way before holy-haywire began.
Secret Agent #2
TITLE: The Mechanical Cosmic Seed
GENRE: MG Science Fiction, A fairy tale retelling
Jackie suppressed the urge to glance at the clock a second time as she waited for the perfect moment to launch her cunning plan, and not even rolling nausea or the spaceship's bumpy descent would extinguish her drive of going through with it.
To keep her composure, she squeezed her eyes shut and released a slow breath as her brother, being a jerk as always, piloted her beloved Milky Way. Just wait—in a few minutes, his smug smile would be replaced with blood-curdling screams. Best. Sound. Ever.
She tapped her toes along with the blinking of dials desperate for her finesse. Piloting Milky Way came to her like second nature, and yet, without her behind the wheel, all she could do was bide her time and buff the fingerprints from the dash until just the right moment. Malik and Mom didn’t honor the ship like she did. In fact, they treated her like a hunk of metal instead of family. But she didn’t feel this way. Piloting Milky Way gave her life purpose. Her plan would at no time put her baby in danger, but instead, Malik would have to admit that she, Jackie, could be the one and only master of Milky Way.
Her insides fluttered with the longing of regaining control of the ship. She’d give Malik one last chance to give her command the civil way before holy-haywire began.
GENRE: MG Science Fiction, A fairy tale retelling
Jackie suppressed the urge to glance at the clock a second time as she waited for the perfect moment to launch her cunning plan, and not even rolling nausea or the spaceship's bumpy descent would extinguish her drive of going through with it.
To keep her composure, she squeezed her eyes shut and released a slow breath as her brother, being a jerk as always, piloted her beloved Milky Way. Just wait—in a few minutes, his smug smile would be replaced with blood-curdling screams. Best. Sound. Ever.
She tapped her toes along with the blinking of dials desperate for her finesse. Piloting Milky Way came to her like second nature, and yet, without her behind the wheel, all she could do was bide her time and buff the fingerprints from the dash until just the right moment. Malik and Mom didn’t honor the ship like she did. In fact, they treated her like a hunk of metal instead of family. But she didn’t feel this way. Piloting Milky Way gave her life purpose. Her plan would at no time put her baby in danger, but instead, Malik would have to admit that she, Jackie, could be the one and only master of Milky Way.
Her insides fluttered with the longing of regaining control of the ship. She’d give Malik one last chance to give her command the civil way before holy-haywire began.
Secret Agent #1
TITLE: OFFICER NEEDS ASSISTANCE
GENRE: Adult Thriller
Josh Anderson had endured the worst Thursday morning ever—then, evening catapulted him into the eye of a sh** storm.
A knot on the back of his head throbbed in contempt. Several incapacitating minutes passed before he eased his bulky frame onto wobbly legs. He propped against a kitchen island, rearranged the cockeyed suspenders of a compression brace, and smoothed his polo shirt over the worthless device. A current of electricity, from two herniated discs, ricocheted up and down his spine like a rogue elevator. His feet rooted to the floor, paralyzed by maddening spasms. He couldn’t lift his arms and it hurt to breathe.
How long was I conked out?
A few puzzling beats later, Josh spotted a woman sprawled near the piano and the dark goo puddled on the hardwood. He knelt beside her, slid two fingers into place, and felt a thready carotid pulse. The woman’s swollen mouth skewed to one side. Her wide eyes stared at him in haunting fear. Josh used a pen to fold away blood-soaked waves of salt and pepper hair glued to her face so he could inspect the gnarled gashes. He surmised the trauma had been caused by the bent four iron tossed nearby.
Josh knew the woman—Piper Alston, an insurance claims agent at Charleston’s Lansing Group.
Worse—he recognized the four iron from an old set of Callaway’s he kept in his trunk.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Alston.”
GENRE: Adult Thriller
Josh Anderson had endured the worst Thursday morning ever—then, evening catapulted him into the eye of a sh** storm.
A knot on the back of his head throbbed in contempt. Several incapacitating minutes passed before he eased his bulky frame onto wobbly legs. He propped against a kitchen island, rearranged the cockeyed suspenders of a compression brace, and smoothed his polo shirt over the worthless device. A current of electricity, from two herniated discs, ricocheted up and down his spine like a rogue elevator. His feet rooted to the floor, paralyzed by maddening spasms. He couldn’t lift his arms and it hurt to breathe.
How long was I conked out?
A few puzzling beats later, Josh spotted a woman sprawled near the piano and the dark goo puddled on the hardwood. He knelt beside her, slid two fingers into place, and felt a thready carotid pulse. The woman’s swollen mouth skewed to one side. Her wide eyes stared at him in haunting fear. Josh used a pen to fold away blood-soaked waves of salt and pepper hair glued to her face so he could inspect the gnarled gashes. He surmised the trauma had been caused by the bent four iron tossed nearby.
Josh knew the woman—Piper Alston, an insurance claims agent at Charleston’s Lansing Group.
Worse—he recognized the four iron from an old set of Callaway’s he kept in his trunk.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Alston.”
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