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Currently Browsing: Sunday Snippet
Oct
16

Sunday Snippet #80

Sunday Snippet #80 Ghost of a Smile by: Simon R. Green  ACE August 30, 2011 REVIEW HERE  “Took one look at what?” said Happy. “I don’t know,” said Melody.  “But I’m pretty sure whatever these things were, they’re still here.” She shut down the computer and stood up abruptly, glaring about her.  The others huddled together unconsciously, checking out every possible hiding place with a hard look, and still they couldn’t see anything.  The atmosphere had moved beyond tense to actually oppressive.  They all felt like they were being watched, studied, by cold, unseen eyes.  Happy sniffed the air. “Is it only me, or can you smell something?” “Yes,” said JC.  “A ripe, spoiled sort of smell.  Meat that’s gone off.  Blood, too.  Other things of that nature, none of them good.” “It’s getting stronger,” said Happy.  “It’s leaving a really nasty taste in the back of my mouth.” “Hush,” said Melody.  “I can hear something . . .” They all stood very still, straining their ears against the quiet, and slowly they began to hear soft, approaching sounds.  Dragging sounds, of something heavy hauling itself along the floor, through sheer will-power.  Wet, slapping sounds, slipping and sliding, coming from a dozen different directions at once. “Oh no,” said Happy.  “I know it’s going to be some horrible human shape of patched-together organs, probably all red and blobby with no proper exterior, so you can see things moving inside, with dozens of eyes bobbing about at the top.  Dripping blood and bile and leaving a smoking trail of acid behind it . . .” He stopped as he realized they were all looking at him. “You’ve been watching those Japanese manga movies again, haven’t you?” said JC. Happy wrapped his dignity around him, and stared back.  “Legend of the Overfiend is a classic!  Though it does practically define the phrase guilty pleasure.” “Take a few of your little chemical helpers, and get yourself together,” said JC.  “You’re no use to me if you can’t keep your head in game.” “I am trying to cope without them,” said Happy.  “Ever since my piss started turning funny colours.  Better living through chemistry is all very well, but in practice it doesn’t half take it out on your liver.” “And because you can’t get it up when you’re trashed,” said Melody. “Why do you keep putting mental images into my head that I know I’m going to have to scour out with wire wool?” said...
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Oct
9

Sunday Snippet #79

Sunday Snippet #79 Basklisk  by: Rob Thurman Roc August 2, 2011 REVIEW HERE  Things are never as easy as they appear on the Net or in instructional videos.  I blamed an imperfect world for that.  I was a genius – I wasn’t blaming myself, because it obviously was not my fault.  Stefan didn’t throw up as I gradually turned theoretical into a reality.  I had to give him credit.  He turned green, he closed his eyes, he cursed nonstop, but he didn’t vomit, and it was an extremely bumpy ride for at least fifteen minutes.  Godzilla did throw up, down Stefan’s shirt as he wrapped himself tightly around my brother’s neck and shivered.  He wasn’t a fan of theoretical flying either.  I was surrounded by critics. That didn’t improve five hours later when I landed at the new Institute.  Stefan, who hadn’t been at all interested in the details of maximum cruising speed, fuel capacity, maximum climb rate, called it crashing, but I think that was an exaggeration.  Considering his lack of curiosity about all things plane related – except for the copilot’s three-point restraint system, or as he referred to it, “Where’s the goddamn seat belt?” – I didn’t think he had much room to judge. The ground’s rapidly approaching brown dirt, the unforeseen difficulty in getting the nose up, the speed down, but not too far down, and the bouncing off a jutting rock camouflaged the same color as the dirt – it did get the adrenaline pumping.  There was no doubt about that, but it didn’t change matters. “Gravity, genius,” Stefan groaned, holding on to his seat so tightly with one of his hands that it would probably cramp for days.  The other hand held something else.  “Gravity leads to crashes.” Despite the bump on my head and the blood dripping down Stefan’s forehead, it definitely wasn’t a full-on, complete crash.  It was at least a controlled crash and that was the next best thing to a legitimate landing.  That was my opinion and I was sticking with it.  Besides, it was not my fault.  I didn’t create the often-inconvenient laws of physics.  “Gravity” – I waved a dismissive and slightly shaking hand at Stefan’s bitching – “schmavity.  It’s all relative.” “I thought that was time, Einstein,” he pointed out, wiping blood onto the dried ferret vomit already on his shirt, “not schmavity.”  Why did he have to be smart at the least timely moment?  It was close enough...
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Oct
2

Sunday Snippet #78

Sunday Snippet #78 Shadowflame  by Dianne Sylvan  ACE July 26, 2011 REVIEW HERE  “…  Let’s begin, shall we?” Lalita moved to the front of the studio, where her mat was already unfurled on the ground. Cora had brought her own mat; there were several standing in the corner that anyone could use, but Lalita had given her one outright so that she could practice in her room if she wanted.  Cora liked the slightly sticky purple foam, which had a paisley pattern in pink outlined along in one end.  She and the Queen stood up, and Cora rolled her mat out while Miranda sought one of the extras and did the same. Cora hated to admit it, but she felt a tiny bit of satisfaction as the session got underway, because while she was strong and agile, the Queen was no yoga prodigy; her alignment was dreadful, and even with her considerable physical prowess she lost her balance at one point and actually toppled over, giggling. “Why don’t you try that one again?” Lalita suggested. Miranda sobered and stood back up, and Lalita led her back into the pose; the Queen concentrated on her work, which was a relief, as Cora had feared she wouldn’t take what they were doing seriously, especially not the first time.  But Miranda was completely respectful of Lalita’s knowledge and even paused to watch Cora during the Sun Salutation to get a different view of the flow of postures.  Cora tried not to acknowledge her stare, but found herself blushing anyway. “I’m sorry,” the Queen said.  “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.  But you really are a natural at this, Cora.  You look like you were born to it.” Cora blushed even more fiercely.  “Thank you, my Lady.” Lalita was smiling warmly at her.  “I’ve taught yoga off and on for twenty years, and Cora is the quickest learner I’ve had so far.  Just in the last few weeks she’s gained so much pose and grace – I’m very proud of her.” Seeing how uncomfortable Cora was at being stared at, Lalita changed the subject.  “All right, then, let us continue.” After they moved through the entire series of asanas and spent several minutes lying in Corpse Pose, Lalita began a guided meditation for chakra clearing; in her tradition the body had seven primary energy centers, each corresponding to a different aspect of a person’s being, and those centers needed to stay healthy in order for...
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Sep
25

Sunday Snippet #77

Sunday Snippet #77 Midnight  by Ellen Connor  Berkley Sensation September 6, 2011 REVIEW HERE  God, what had she said? “Cristián.” Release hit him like a sledgehammer to the back of the head.  With a hard grunt, he shot against the wall.  He used his free hand, fisted tight, to bang the slippery stucco.  Pleasure washed over his skin. Chris came back to the world with the sudden feeling of being watched.  Shit. With as much confidence as he could muster, he turned.   Rosa was leaning against the opposite wall.  A small bundle of bath supplies waited at her feet.  She wasn’t standing in the doorway as if she’d just walked in.  No, she had settled in.  To watch him. “All done?” “Yeah,” he gritted out.   He was still stark naked, holding his flaccid cock.  Shit.  Shit.  Shit.  He grabbed his washcloth off a nearby hook and wiped his hands, then ran a little water to rinse the wall.  As calmly as he could manage, he found his towel and began to dry off. Rosa didn’t budge.  She followed his every movement with a dark, unreadable gaze.  “Don’t do that again unless you want a hard-up bravo to help you out.  There are one or two.” “Lay off, all right?” She looked perfectly relaxed, her hands tucked behind her back.  That pose thrust her breasts against a white button-down, one long enough to just cover her ass.  Did she use it as a nightgown?  It looked rumpled as if she’d slept in it.  Beneath the clinging cotton her nipples were rock hard. In the dream he’d been arrogant.  He’d known what it was to be wanted.  Maybe that was because she’d looked at him the way she was doing just then.  Stark appreciation shone from her luminous brown eyes.  He could knock down trees with his bare hands when she ate him up with her stare. Chris wrapped the towel loosely around his waist and eased nearer.  Any minute she’d pull a gun on him, but he didn’t care.  She was the inspiration behind two of the most satisfying orgasms he’d had in years.  And he felt like paying homage to his muse. “Thank you,” he said. “For what?” “Letting me finish.” She licked her lower lip and smiled.  “I won’t lie, Cristián.  I enjoyed the show.” PURCHASE INFO:  Midnight (A Dark Age Dawning...
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Sep
11

Sunday Snippet #75

Sunday Snippet #75 Isle of Night  by Veronica Wolff  NAL Trade September 6, 2011 REVIEW HERE  “Outside?”  I asked, suppressing a shiver.  The Initiates had led me to the ground-floor foyer, where I stood, stripped to my underwear.  I’d hurt my ribs in the fall, and my trembling intensified the pain. Along the hallway, a few doors were cracked open, and I spied wary eyes witnessing my torture from the safety of the dorm rooms.  Even though we’d all been issued the same ugly, regulation beige bra and granny panties, the shame of it burned my cheeks. It was the only thing that burned, though.  My teeth had begun to chatter and I was already nostalgic for all that heat.  The front door was open, and I contemplated the black and gray swirl of starlit snow outside.  Why had I found the Hot Party uncomfortable?  The concept was unthinkable now. “What’s the punishment?”  I huddled into myself, chafing my arms in vain.  “Parading around half-naked, or is it the pneumonia I’m contracting?” “Neither.”  Someone shoved me, and I lurched forward, catching myself before I fell.  “It’s the running.” “And you just earned yourself an extra lap, smart-ass.”  I thought I recognized the redhead’s voice. The ache in my ribs turned to nausea.  Running.  That explained the white Nikes they’d let me put on, dug out from the bottom of my pack. “Four laps around the quad,” Masha said.  “Take every corner.” I nodded, wriggling my toes in the running shoes.  The soles were soaked and squeaky from the showers, but despite it, I was pathetically grateful.  I wouldn’t put it past these girls to make me run barefoot in the snow. “Every corner – no matter how dark,” another Initiate ordered.  I felt another push. Masha leaned close, purring in my ear.  “We’re watching.” A survival instinct clicked to life in the recesses of my brain.  I bounded forward, springing out the door, determined not to feel the final shove I knew would come. The night air seared my lungs.  I told myself it couldn’t be that cold – the snowfall had actually brought the temperature up to what I estimated was mid-forties.  If I just kept moving and got this over with, the weather wouldn’t kill me. Those girls, they could kill me.  This wouldn’t. But I wasn’t athletic.  I’d never run a mile in my life, and I raced too quickly down the path.  I wasn’t even halfway to my...
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Sep
4

Sunday Snippet #74

Sunday Snippet #74 In The Air Tonight  by Stephanie Tyler  Dell Books August 2, 2011 REVIEW HERE  He was slick from the shower—the only thing keep- ing him from being exposed a thin towel tied low on his waist… very low. Her eyes noted the light dust- ing of hair leading down below the towel. “You’re staring.”  “Yes.”  “I’m sure you’ve seen it all before, being a nurse and all.”  “You’d think.” Her fingers played with the buttons on her borrowed shirt absentmindedly, unbuttoning, seducing, praying it would work. Another button—he couldn’t tear his eyes away now and that was what she’d wanted from the second she stepped into the bar and laid eyes on him. “Paige…” “I like the way you say my name.” With the final button undone, she slid the big borrowed flannel shirt easily off her shoulders and let it drop to the ground. Her bra came next, too fast for him to think about protesting, thanks to the front clasp, and she could see by the strain on the front of his towel that nearly all protest had left him. But he waited, so still, watching to see if she’d go all the way. And yes, she would… She skimmed her stretch pants off, kicked them out of the way. She leaned in, letting her body press against his, even as she was careful to keep her hands off him.  “Paige, I can’t.” But his arousal told her otherwise.  “You can tie me up,” she murmured against his ear and his erection jutted against her belly as his breath quickened. “Do you like that, the idea of me all spread out and naked for you?”  It was so easy to talk to him like that. She’d stirred him up, and these consequences she could easily live with. “Jesus, Paige—yeah, I want you like that.” “Then go ahead, finish what we started last night....
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Aug
28

Sunday Snippet #73

Sunday Snippet #73 Primal Law  by J.D. Tyler Signet Publishing August 2, 2011 REVIEW HERE  …There, just beyond the covered patio, lying flat on her back on a quilt in the sunshine, was his woman. And sprawled on her stomach, tiny furry legs hanging on each side of her like a cat sunning on a branch, was Chup-Chup.  Unnoticed by either of them, he stopped and stared.  Her little friend was making a sort of whirring, hiccup noise nobody could mistake as anything but sheer bliss.  His round body, which almost resembled a baby koala bear’s, rose and fell with each breath as he dozed. The pair was so fucking cute, he couldn’t really form the words to describe what the sight did to him.  All he knew was it tightened his chest with an emotion he wasn’t ready to name.  To see this creature, formerly scared and snapping at everyone, lying there so trusting and content, was a measure of her goodness.  The bright light that no one was able to resist. Including himself. Turning her head, she spotted him standing on the porch and waved him over.  “You can come closer.  Just don’t make any sudden moves.” That seemed to be true of the woman as well as Chup.  Wisely, he didn’t say so.  “Okay.  Walking slowly.”  He made his way over to where they lay and crouched.  The creature hadn’t moved.  “Now what?” “Nothing.  He’ll notice you soon enough and we’ll see what happens.” “That’s reassuring.”  He eyed Chup warily. “Don’t tell me that the big bad werewolf is afraid of this little guy,” she teased. “Shifter, not werewolf.  A werewolf is that half-man thing from a B horror movie.  And that ‘little guy’ can chew my face off.  Have you seen those teeth?” “Pardon me, shifter.  And he won’t bite unless you startle him.”  She looked entirely too amused by his trepidation. “Then I’ll have to be sure not to startle him again, won’t I?  Remember, he got me once before.”  He frowned at her hands, which bore red scratches and a few bite marks.  “You aren’t wearing your gloves.” “I don’t need them anymore.” “I’m not so sure.” “Trust...
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Aug
21

Sunday Snippet #72

Sunday Snippet #72 Viper Moon  by Lee Roland   Signet Publishing July 5, 2011 REVIEW HERE  If, as the Mother insisted, Flynn had to stay with me, he had to know some of my secrets – and accept them without slapping me in handcuffs and hauling me to jail.  For him, I’d have to break the veil of obscurity that cloaked the Barrows.  He’d be initiated into a new world.  Unlike the general uptown populace, he wouldn’t be able to turn away and pretend he hadn’t seen the weird and bizarre.  Bigger problem?  I didn’t know how I’d conceal some of my more devious retrieval methods from him. I pulled into the apartment house parking lot and switched off the car.  “Are you a shoot first, ask questions later kind of cop?” “No.” He sounded offended. “Good.  If you shoot my friends, I will be very unhappy.”  Not to mention he’d have to shoot me because I’d stand in front of them.  “Come upstairs and I’ll welcome you to my world.”  When we entered the apartment, I told him to sit at the tab le.  I sat in a chair across from him.  “Pretend you’re dreaming.  It might help.  Nefertiti?  Nirah?” Horus dashed across the room and leaped onto the table.  Nirah coiled around his neck with her head between his ears.  Her tiny forked tongue flicked in and out at lightning speed.   Nefertiti lowered her slender body from a cheap and gaudy chandelier with burned-out bulbs hanging directly over my table until her head was eye level with Flynn.  I don’t know how she made it up there.  I hadn’t noticed her when we came in.  Neither had Flynn. Flynn sat with his eyes wide and his mouth open. His hand was halfway to his gun. “No shooting!” My muscles tightened as I prepared to throw myself at him.  “They won’t hurt you and you won’t hurt them.” His hand moved away from the gun, but his eyes never left Nefertiti, Horus, and Nirah. I reached out and stroked Nefertiti’s head with my finger.  She let go and her body hit the table with a solid thump.  She coiled herself into a ball. “Nefertiti, let’s start with you.”  I held out my hand and she laid her head on my palm.  For her that signified trust.  “This is Flynn.  He’s going to be staying with us for a few days.  I want you to learn his scent so you can recognize...
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Aug
14

Sunday Snippet #71

Sunday Snippet #71 Grave Dance  by Kalayna Price   ROC Publishing July 5, 2011 REVIEW HERE  Alex, an oatmeal crème pie doesn’t’ count as breakfast.”  Falin said, staring at the prepackaged sweet as if it had offended him. I shrugged, “Don’t knock it,” I said.  I perched in the one chair I owned and opened my laptop.  I’d put fresh sheets on the bed and I hoped Falin would get a little more rest.  He might have some super-fae healing powers, but the glimpses I’d caught of him unglamoured proved he still needed some recuperation time.  “So, did I draw the queen’s attention with the tear or the castle?” “Castle?”  Falin’s eyebrow lifted, and while he might have been faking ignorance, he sounded genuinely confused.  I shook my head, dismissing the question.  “Okay, so I’m guessing this has something to do with the tear.” “Something?  This has everything to do with the tear.  What were you thinking, merging realities in the middle of a crowded street?” “Uh, I was thinking Holly was about to get shredded,” I said as I dug through my purse in search of the charmed disk.  “What kind of fallout am I looking at?” “Well, you drew the attention of at least two faerie courts.  They are asking questions.” “I’m guessing their curiosity would be bad for my health?” Falin set the untouched oatmeal crème pie aside.  Then he propped my pillows against the wall and reclined against them, his hands behind his head.  “If not your health, then definitely your freedom.  If the courts realize what you can do, you’ll likely end up sequestered in Faerie.” Sequestered?  I was not a fan of that outcome.  I retrieved the disk and set my purse aside.   “Fred said, ‘They come.’ Think that’s about the courts?” Falin opened his eyes, which had drifted closed while we spoke.  “Who’s Fred?” “Oh, uh, the gargoyle?” I shrugged.  “I sort of named it.” He stared at me, and then burst out laughing.  “The winged one with the cat face?”  At my nod he laughed harder, which made him wince and grasp his injured side.  “You realize that particular gargoyle is female and holds a position among gargoyles similar to that of a high priestess or a grand oracle?” “Oh.”  I guess that explained why she’d seemed so amused when I’d named her.  But she’d refused to give me a name to call her, and it was hard to converse with someone who...
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Aug
7

Sunday Snippet #70

Sunday Snippet #70 Burning Down the Spouse  by Dakota Cassidy   Berkley Sensation July 5, 2011 REVIEW HERE   Frankie hit the diner two days after her scuffle with Nikos a new woman.  With her sparkling new attitude, she breezed past the narrow-eyed Chloe without so much as a rumble in her not-so-nervous-anymore stomach.   So, neener, neener, neener.   She had to remind herself she was a new woman when she almost ran smack into Nikos, who was taking inventory. “Morning,” she said with a cheerful smile, the one she’d rehearsed nine hundred gotrillion times in the mirror on her days off.  The happy, secure, well-adjusted, “not in need of help from the psych department” smile.   “I suck,” he said, deadpan and somber in all his gorgeousness.   “Did you lose count of the olive jars again?  You want help?”      “That’s not what I mean, and I think you know it.”   “Ohhhhh, you mean the other day, right?” she asked, all breezy and carefree as part of her new-woman package.  “Forget it.  What’s done is done.”  She looked for the fresh green peppers in the fridge.  “No, I know Cosmos must need peppers chopped.  I heard two orders for omelets on my way into the kitchen.  What’s on tap for today, slave driver?”   “Frankie?”  He grabbed her arm, swinging her to face him.   She gave his hand a pointed look, lifting her arm in questions, returning to her promise to remember he was just a man.  No matter how manly.  “What C’mon, haste makes waste.”   “Slow down and listen to me make nice with you for being a jackass.  It doesn’t happen often.”   “That you’re a jackass or that you make nice?”   He grinned, warm, sexy.  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Mitch and Carrie and Marco and whatever else I didn’t tell you about.  I swear in the future, anything Mitch does, if he so much as thinks about behaving badly, when I psychically tap into his mind, you’ll be the first to know.”   She couldn’t help but laugh.  “Well, thanks, but I don’t care what Mitch has done anymore.  I didn’t care as much about what he’d done as about what I didn’t know he’d done.  I think it was more about how utterly humiliating it is to be the last one to know what was right under your nose.  I felt stupid and blind is all.  But I’m over it because his past bad behavior is out of my control.  So...
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