Saturday, November 16, 2013

Cliffhanger from Until I Met You




Cliffhanger from Until I Met You.
Release date December 1, 2013.

     Anticipating their lovemaking, she couldn't sit still and wandered into the spare room they'd used as an office. Tyler had a laptop set up on his desk. The silver and black case looked familiar. Then she realized he'd been working on Grant's laptop. She clicked the spacebar and sat down when the computer woke up. Why hadn't Tyler mentioned he'd been able to start up her brother-in-law's computer? Maybe he'd planned to surprise her.
     After she clicked on a folder which said "pictures," she marveled how organized Grant had been. She found J. T.'s name and opened the first picture.
Jessica starred at the photograph of her brother-in-law and his foster brother J. T. Reynolds. Both the mischief in his eyes and the dazzling smile were familiar. Only the length of his hair was different. Stunned, she studied the picture of Tyler.
      Jessica sat transfixed as she stared at the photograph. Although she didn't need to, Jessica glanced at the caption below, shaking her head in disbelief, "J. T. and me on the Fourth of July." From the appearance of picture, Tyler knew Grant for years. Propping her elbows on the desk, Jessica held her head in her hands. The man she'd grown to love was the man she'd been looking for. She had thought she could trust him, and all this time he'd been lying to her. Why did he lie? What did he plan to gain by pretending to be someone else? Tyler was just like all the other men in her life.
      A small sob sounded in her throat. Jessie thought he was the one man she could trust. She should have known better. The men in her life were never trustworthy. Some things never change.
      She'd heard him say goodnight to Wyatt and close his bedroom door.
"Tyler." Her voice sounded more like a plea than merely calling his name.
When he walked into the office her eyes widened beseeching him. "Thanks, J. T."
     He glanced at the laptop and nodded. "Yes, that's me." His voice sounded heavy with regret. No he sounded relieved.
      Tyler or J. T. or whoever he was stopped two feet from her side. Standing Jessica faced him.
      "Jessica?" He reached a hand out to her. When she ignored his gesture he lowered his hand.
      "Please let me explain." Again he extended his hand to her.
      She tried not to hear the anguish in Tyler's voice. "Why?"
      "Let's sit down." He placed his hand on her elbow.
      Not wanting to feel the warmth of his touch or his kindness, Jessica jerked her arm away from him. "Don't touch me."
     He gave her a curt nod then followed her to the living room. She sat on the couch, her back stiff and straight. Jessica guarded her emotions. Tyler sat beside her, turning to face her.
     "My life turned around when Grant's family took me in as a foster child. For the first time, I found a family who loved me. I was a little guy who was always picked on and Grant watched over me."
     "I know, but that doesn't explain why you lied to me." Jessica worked her hands in her lap.
     "I didn't find out Grant died until after I'd completed my special ops. I received an email from his little sister, another child the Markham's took in. She explained what happened and that you were taking care of Wyatt. I promised Grant I'd watch over Wyatt if anything happened to him. When I make a promise, I keep it no matter what. When I returned home, I needed to find out who was caring for his child.
     "In the service, I learned to know your opponent before you strategize. Once I got to know you I saw how good you were with Wyatt. It was evident he loves you. I fell in love with you too."
     Jessica flinched when he referred to her as his opposition. "So, you got to know me yet you still didn't have the decency to tell me who you are. You let me believe you were Tyler Brown." She swallowed quickly before the emotions tightened her throat. "We made love and you still didn't bother to explain."
     "I tried to tell you several times. My name is Justin Tyler Reynolds. I was named after my wonderful father." Heaving a sigh, Tyler leaned forward and rested his arms on his legs. "He'd come home drunk and beat up my mom. One night he beat her so bad she died before she got to the hospital. I was twelve at the time and swore I'd never use his name again. From then on I went by J. T."
His voice was unusually monotone and devoid of all feeling. This wasn't the fun loving man she knew. Jessica wanted to reach out and comfort him, but the thought of his deceit stopped her.
     "Grant was the brother I never had. The only one who cared about me. The only family I had." Tyler stood up and moved to look out the front window. "The day I met you I stood on the porch and watched you care for Wyatt. You were gentle and kind. The two of you were a family. For the first time in years, I wanted to belong to a family. I didn't want to be J. T. Reynolds any longer. I got to know you, I like who I became because of you. You've made me a better person. Until I met you, I was nobody."
     "You could have told me," she whispered. Why hadn't she discovered his deception earlier? Since the day she met him, Tyler had given her clues. He looks like his dad. Tyler never looked me in the eye when I talked about Grant.
     "When I first came here, my military training kicked in and I worked on a covert mission." His hands raked his hair. "I'm sorry, Jessie."
     "So am I," her voice was a soft whisper. Tears stung her eyes. She'd tried to block out all the happy memories she'd shared with Tyler. "As his uncle, you can have visiting rights." Her gaze met his. "But for now, I think you better leave."

Friday, November 15, 2013

Excerpt from Until I Met You

Here is an excerpt from Until I Met You. Release date December 1, 2013.




Jessica Reid held her seven month old nephew, Wyatt, to her shoulder and paced the length of her living room. She surveyed her once orderly home now littered with baby furniture and toys and smiled. At the moment, the room looked crowded, but the house had never been more animated as it was now. Wyatt had lived with her for only a month since his parent's tragic accident. Unfortunately, he was as fussy today as the day she brought him home.
Three feet into the room the flooring squeaked under her feet for the umpteenth time. Feeling the infant relax, Jessica thought he'd finally fallen asleep and slowed her gait. When Wyatt started crying again, she patted his back and hummed softly in his ear, then resumed her walking.
Blake Hudson, her neighbor and friend since kindergarten, had stopped by for their Saturday morning coffee. She wore her strawberry blonde hair pulled back in a loose tail. If Blake followed her usual routine, she'd just come from a workout at the gym wearing her spandex shorts and lavender top. Blake was the kind of friend who knew everything about Jessica yet didn't use it against her.
Within half an hour, Renee Wilson from the end of the cul-de-sac came over carrying a pink box of pastries. Jessica didn't have to see the contents to know there was a decadent dessert inside which would require an extreme workout to counterbalance the calorie intake. She shook her head.
Renee set the box on the coffee table. "Don't give me that look, Jessie. You know I watch what I eat all week so I can splurge on Saturday. I celebrate every Saturday that I made it through another work week. Some nut case has been calling the office the last couple of days. So I'm indulging in a little emotional eating."
"I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't' realize your work was so rough this week," Jessica said.
Blake lifted the lid and peeked inside. "What did you bring today?"
"There was a sale on cream puffs." Renee bit into the creamy confection. She closed her eyes and a serene look softened her face. "That's heavenly. You should stop by that new bakery on Court Street. Their pastries are sinful."
Reaching into the box, Blake grumbled. "I'll have to jog another five miles to work this off."
Jessica smiled at her friends' bantering, a normal occurrence in her chaotic life. The three of them had gotten together most Saturday mornings for as long as she could remember. Her friends had often stopped by, offering to help with Wyatt. Jessica didn't want to insult them by not accepting their help, but she knew they had even less experience with infants than she did.
With pastries in hand, her two friends moved to flank both sides of the large window which faced the street. Renee sat on the arm of the couch, her stocking feet on the cushion. Blake stood to the left of the sofa. The women were so intent on what they were watching they seemed unaware of the crying child or Jessie's pacing.
"You would think as new as this house is the floor boards wouldn't make any noise." Her friend Blake opened the curtain wider and held it against the window frame and continued her vigilance.
"Newer is not always better," Jessica reminded her friend.
From her perch on the arm of the couch, Renee's short auburn hair and petite frame gave her the appearance of a pixie. "You can say that again. Last year, I had to call the repairman twice about my new washer."
"That had more to do with the repairman's butt than your washer not working," Blake added.
Renee raised one shoulder. "You've got me on that one." She returned her attention to the scene outside the window.
All three women lived on Sweetbrier Circle, a quiet cul-de-sac in the heights of Forest Ridge. Renee and Blake had lived next to each other for over a year. Jessica was the newcomer to the group; she'd moved into the neighborhood a scant six months ago.
"What are you two staring at?" Jessica walked toward them as she finished pacing the length of the room. Before she turned around for another pass, she too glanced out the window.
A large white and orange moving van with scenic drawings of California was parked across the street. The metal ramp was propped up to the back door.
"I don't see what's so interesting."
The baby started to fuss in her arms, so Jessie turned to wear the carpet out in the other direction.
Before she'd moved two steps, Blake reached out her hand to stop her. "Oh no you don't. You can bounce Wyatt here for a moment. You need to take a good look outside. What do you see?"
Jessica stepped closer to the window and instantly saw the man across the street. Even from this distance she could see his muscular arms strain against the weight of the box he carried. She wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped in his embrace and to experience the heat of his body next to hers. A warm flush enveloped her face. Now she understood why women fanned themselves when they had a hot flash, and why her friends were ogling out the window.
The man was approximately seventy-five feet away, yet she felt an instant attraction to him. His hair was cut as short as the military cadets Jessica had seen on the college campus. On this man the style actually accentuated his masculinity. The simple faded orange T-shirt he wore molded to his chest, hugging his muscular physique.
He had a straight aristocratic nose. Stubble darkened his face, and she longed to feel the roughness against her palm. Jessica shook her head, wondering why such personal thoughts were directed to this stranger.
He glanced up. The man's gaze locked with hers. Predatory was the first word that came to mind. He gave a simple nod then continued on with his work. Tall and lean, his body equaled that of a professional quarterback. His eyes were hooded from this distance, so she couldn't see what color they were but instinctively knew his piercing gaze didn't miss anything.
Blake and Renee's nonstop debate on jogging verses speed walking flowed around her. Both of her friends were oblivious to Jessica's nonverbal exchange with their new neighbor.
Returning her attention to the action across the street, Blake asked, "What do you see?"
Studying the man again, Jessica couldn't remember the last time she had a date. A meaningful exchange with a man seemed like a life time ago.
"I see a beautiful spring day with the deep blue sky. And a van is blocking my view."
Blake reached over and patted her shoulder. "Honey, if that's all you see, you definitely need to get out more often."
"Who's Hercules?" Renee asked.
"I don't know but he's fun to watch." Blake pretended to wipe her brow. "Why don't you go over and introduce yourself, Jess. Then you can tell us all about him." Blake released the curtain then sipped her coffee.
"The man definitely has some muscles." Jessica couldn't help but stare. "Did he buy the house?" For the last six months, the three women were the only ones living on Sweetbrier Circle.
"That's a nice house. I almost bought that one. But the backyard had too much grass," Renee said.
Jessica rolled her eyes at her friend. "Since when do you mow your own lawn?"
"I didn't know at the time I'd date a landscaper who'd offer to do my yard work."
The room fell silent when the newcomer walked outside again. From this distance, he appeared to be nearly six feet tall but obviously more brawn than the average Joe. His t-shirt fit tight, clinging to the well-defined muscles underneath.
"A man in the neighborhood; that's a nice change." Blake met Jessie's gaze and lifted her mug to her. "You should go for him."
"Right," Jessica exaggerated the word as she nodded. "What are the odds of a man dating a woman with a baby? Besides, when do I have time for a man in my life?"
"Renee is dating her yard boy, and after my last relationship, I've sworn off dating so that leaves you." Blake started to reach for Wyatt. "Go introduce yourself."
Anxious that the other woman was serious, Jessica stepped back then started pacing again.
"I finally got the baby to sleep. You're not moving him." Curious about the man, she decided to give him a second look. Trying to look nonchalant, she turned in the middle of the room and strolled back to the window. Although spying on him was a little juvenile, she enjoyed watching the stranger. His agile body moved purposefully as he walked out of the van carrying an office chair.
After setting the piece of furniture on the driveway he turned and looked in their direction. Jessica felt his gaze burn into her. She froze. Her two friends frantically waved to catch his attention. A curt nod was given by the buff man.
"Jessie, you're not going to wave to your future boyfriend?" Renee asked.
"Are we in middle school again? The two of you are ahead of yourselves. I'm not going out with him, and he's not my boyfriend. Besides, I smell like the baby." As excuses go, her reply was lame. They all knew that, but her friends surprisingly let it pass without a comment.
Shifting Wyatt up, Jessie pointed with her free hand across the street. "A man who looks that good is probably married and has half a dozen kids. I know where I'd be every night if he were my husband."
At that moment the man in question glanced up as she was gesturing across the street and waved to her in return. With a sigh, she stepped away from the window. Joking with her friends about a boyfriend was one thing. The thought of a man in her life, one who wanted to date her, was unrealistic.
Feeling Wyatt's body relax with sleep, she walked down the hall to the baby's room.
Returning a strand of hair behind her ear, she looked down at the sleeping infant. A lot had happened to the little fellow in his seven months of life. He'd lost his parents in a car accident and moved in with her. Adjusting to the baby's schedule was all Jessie could handle at the moment. She didn't have time for a man in her life. After placing Wyatt in the crib, she tucked his blanket around him. Jessica whispered, "You're the only man for me."



Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Rogues Angels Present: Check In Day




Adriatic Sea 

Look Past The Sunset To The Sunrise

It's Check In Day.

Time to pay the piper! How did you do? How much did you write? Did words explode on your WIP?

This is the Rogue's Angels weekly check-in. Every Thursday we encourage the Angels and visitors to let us know how their writing is going.

How well are you doing?

Had problems this week? That's ok. Just sit down this coming week and write. Whatever you do, don't let difficulties from the week before get in your way this week.

Every word is one word closer to the finished product.

I have finished edits on Highland Sunrise. That's a load off my shoulders and have started writing Sweet Misbehavin'.

 Happy writing.

How was your week?

Sunday, November 10, 2013


 
 
 

Thank you.

 
 
To all the Veterans serving and all those who served--
 
Thank you.
 
From all of Rogue's Angels and the people who make up
Rogue Phoenix Press.
 
Because of you we are able to write freely.
 
Sable Angel

Saturday, November 9, 2013




Dragons Among
 
the Ice
 
by
 
C. L. Kraemer






Lee gazed at the reflection staring back at him. He’d become so used to cloaking his eyes that this move to leave them natural disconcerted him a bit. He completed dressing and headed for the hotel’s restaurant.

He let a smile touch his lips as he thought about the rice porridge and broiled fish. He couldn’t get Olga to serve it at home so he was relishing the treat. Opting for a table facing the street, Lee ordered and sipped his coffee while waiting. The changing sky fascinated him; one moment the blue beckoned him to abandon his work and go fishing, the next clouds rolled in and threatened rain.

He started when he looked at the table and found his breakfast in front of him. The white uniform clad waitress was quietly slipping back to the kitchen.

“I love the consideration of the Japanese.” Lee dug into his food with gusto. He’d not eaten a warm meal in thirty-six hours and his stomach was loudly complaining.

Finishing with a warm, damp towel to his fingers, Lee leaned back in his chair and considered his next step. Reports were filtering through his office regarding the disappearance of Swedish citizens and embassy soldiers in Japan. The vanishings were being reported in Sweden as well. Not many who lived there chose to leave. His office disregarded most of the claims and put the details on the back burner. But his senses, his dragon senses, made his skin prickle and scales rustle. An ominous feeling growing in the pit of his stomach set him to questioning his superiors. They’d grown tired of his persistent doubts regarding their methods.

“As it appears your decade of military service makes you feel you’re more accomplished at this than Verner and myself, we’re assigning these reports to you. Lycka till! You’ll need it.” Lee’s boss stomped out of his office leaving a towering stack of files teetering on the edge of his desk.

Lee signed his name to the breakfast bill, putting his room number at the bottom, and gathered his belongings. His human counterparts had no idea how important the instances of missing persons would become; not just to the shifter community but to the two-legged community as well.

He signaled a taxi and gave the address in the Higashi-ku district, sitting back and taking in the city sights. The streets were busy with shoppers and tourists, but Lee didn’t get the rushed sensation he’d felt in European towns of the same size.

The Swedish embassy’s sleek modern look was not at odds with the surroundings. Quite the contrary, the neighboring buildings seemed to have adopted similar architectural lines, embracing the glass and steel so popular in his country.

He paid the cabbie and thanked him, disembarking from the vehicle and staring at the facade in front of him.

Standing here looking at the office won’t get the job done. Let’s get a move-on.

He walked through the security station giving up his briefcase and undergoing the less than invasive check of his person. When the metal detector beeped, he indicated he needed to reach into a pocket.

The guard eyed him suspiciously, watching every move as Li pulled a folded sheet of paper with two fingers from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He thrust the paper toward the guard and resumed his stance.

The embassy policeman opened the paper with one hand as he simultaneously unsnapped the weapon strapped to his side. Quickly scanning the document, the guard’s only reply was to grunt and secure his pistol. The paper was shoved at him when the guard waved him through to the reception desk.

Lee grabbed his briefcase, making his way to the counter. A smiling, fair complexioned younger woman greeted him.

“Good morning, sir. Can I help you?”

“Yes, I believe I’m a bit early but I have an appointment with the ambassador at 8:30 am. My name is Lee Svensson.” He pulled out his military identification and presented the plastic encased card to her.

She looked at the picture on the card then keyed information to her computer.

“Oh, yes. I see it here on the calendar. Please take a seat over there.” She waved a delicate hand to an area set up in the center of the room. The beech wood chairs had been carefully arranged in a conversational setting to encourage visitors to feel comfortable. HaggÃ¥-patterned material covered the couches lending a feel of Swedish flair to the area. Lee choose a seat with a view of the door. He pulled his laptop from the briefcase and flipped it open. Starting up the computer, he aimed the camera lens toward the entrance. Here, he needed to employ a bit of acting if he was to ensure no one would suspect him.

The atrium-styled lobby echoed each time the door opened making subterfuge difficult. Lee tapped lightly on the keys, not depressing any but the lens button, with each new visitor. He checked the timer at the bottom. Twenty minutes had passed since he’d checked in and the receptionist had yet to announce him. Gritting his teeth together to hold back his impatience, he was about to get up and reintroduce himself when a new visitor caught his attention.

The man was a mountain. Taller than Lee at over six and one half feet, his ill-fitting suit emphasized the mass of the human being. He clumped up to the security area.

Lee leaned back in his chair and watched the events unfold on his computer screen.

The guard stood up, staggering backwards as his eyes scanned the new visitor.

Giant man pulled out identification and tossed it on the table in front of the screening machine.

With practiced slowness, the security guard picked up the ID while not taking his eyes off the Goliath before him.

Lee tapped up the volume to hear the interchange.

“Mr…” The guard cleared his throat and swallowed. “Watanabe. I’ll need you to walk between the posts…” He looked up at the massive human. “Please.”

Lee smothered a grin. I’ve got to see how this turns out.

Placing his car keys in the provided tray, the big man stood blocking light from the front windows.

“Okay, sir, you can go through.” The squeaked instructions reverberated throughout the concrete and steel atrium.

Lee watched the massive man walk up and turn sideways to get through the metal detector. He held his breath. The large human he now knew was Mr. Watanabe sailed past the arch with nary a sound. Upon exiting the detector, he grabbed his keys and placed them in his jacket pocket.

The guard, hand-held detector at the ready, took one look at the ferocious expression facing him and opted to take the easy way out.

“Thank you, sir. You may pass.”

Lee couldn’t help himself and chuckled drawing, a dagger-laced glance from the giant. He pulled in a breath as, in that split second, the man dropped his cloaking to show his gold eyes and red scales. Lee coughed.

Holy mackerel. The guy must be huge in his dragon form.

“Mr. Svensson?” The receptionist broke his concentration.

“Yes?”

“The ambassador will see you now. Please continue to the fifth floor secretary and she’ll direct you from there.”

Lee shut down his computer and trotted to the elevator. It wasn’t until he was inside the room; he realized he was sharing the ride with the giant.

The man stared straight ahead.

Lee pushed the fifth floor button and tried to keep his anxiety in check. The elevator stopped, a female voice announcing in Swedish and Japanese the third floor, and the giant stepped to the doors. Upon opening, he stuck a foot in the track and turned to Lee.

“Enjoy your visit, brother.”

He was gone before Lee had an opportunity to respond. Somehow, he didn’t think the large man was a representative of the Chamber of Commerce sent to welcome him.

The elevator slid shut and he pushed out a breath. “Close… too close.”

The large man, Mr. Watanabe, knew he was a shifter. Lee had no doubt in his mind. The silky female voice again announced the floor and Lee departed to face the secretary mentioned by the receptionist in the lobby.

“Mr. Svensson?” The surprised expression on her face was something he faced continuously. About to let loose his irritation; Lee realized she might be responding to his gold eyes as opposed to his oriental looks. This young woman was Japanese; yet, she’d spoken to him in perfect Swedish. It was his turn to look surprised.

“Yes. I’m here to see the ambassador on an urgent matter.”

She dropped her eyes. “Please accept my apologies. Your eyes are quite lovely. It must be wonderful to experience good fortune throughout your life.”

Lee stopped for a moment. She’s congratulating me on my gold eyes? He’d read somewhere the Japanese considered gold-eyed, black cats to be good luck. His black hair and oriental looks combined with his unveiled gold eyes must have triggered the secretary’s remark. Better than the usual responses.

He graced her with a rare smile. “I’m very fortunate to have good luck follow me.”

She picked up the phone and announced him to the party at the other end.

“Mr. Svensson is here. Yes, sir.” She rose and moved from behind her desk. “Please follow me, sir.”

Lee trailed behind the young woman taking in the rich carpet and upscale furniture. Glass walled offices slipped past as they headed down the hallway toward a closed door crafted in carved blonde wood. The secretary knocked tentatively.

“Enter.”

She turned to Lee. “Please go in.”

He turned the brushed nickel handle and entered the room.

Behind the antique desk sat the Ambassador. Blonde locks glinted in the sunlight streaming through the window. Nils Lundquist looked up and his sapphire eyes crinkled with the large grin covering his face. He stood, all 6’7” of him, and extended a tanned hand.

“Lee. How terrific to see you. I’m glad you could make it.”

Lee set his briefcase on the floor and slipped his hand inside Nils.

“Nils? It’s been too long. How are you? I see…” he held up the tanned extremity, “you’re still hitting the links.”

Nils pumped the younger man’s hand enthusiastically.

“Yeah and still losing like crazy. You’d think I’d find a better hobby.” With a wave of his hand, he indicated Lee should sit.

“If I remember correctly, you were pretty darn good at hockey and coached an Olympic Gold Metal Team in 1994.”

Nils leaned back in the chair. “Yeah. Those were the days. Unfortunately, I experienced one fight too many and when I’d broken my collar bone for the third time, my wife threatened to leave me. Don’t know why but I took her seriously.”

Both men chuckled. Lee knew very well Nils worshiped Johanna, his wife. They’d gone through the end of the Mage Wars together and she was a fearsome warrior in her own right.

“What can I do for you, Lee?” Nels settled in his chair.

“I’ve been receiving some disturbing reports from the field regarding… occurrences here.”

Nils leaned forward and started to say something.

Lee held up his hand. “Yes, we have plenty on our hands back home. The reason I was sent here is my familial connections. I have uncles living at the north end of the island. They’re… uhm, monitoring the air waves.” He raised his eyebrows to emphasize his point.

Nils nodded. “I understand. There’ve been numerous incidents where we’ve been called by the authorities. Officially, we can’t get involved.”

“Unofficially?”

“We sent out investigators to validate the claims.”

“What did you find?”

“Very disturbing circumstances. Folks going about their daily routines suddenly… change… in the middle of town or at the shopping center.”

Lee slumped in his chair. It was, as he feared. Reports had trickled from America about something similar, but nothing could be verified.

Nils continued. “Panic seems to be at a minimum as the Japanese aren’t immune to the idea of our kind and the Ancients among the populace. The local cops show up and, with surprising speed, another group of people dressed as prefecture road workers appear. The cops are handed paperwork and disappear into the crowd. Accident tape goes up, then tarps and within an hour the scene appears as nothing more than roadwork.

“I’ve assigned Marcus Alrikson, my deputy, to cover the news outlets for any information he can obtain. So far nothing. Whoever these people are, they are very careful.”

Lee worried his lip with his teeth. This was far worse than initially reported.

“How many of us are here?”

Nils opened a bottom drawer and retracted a manila file folder. A quick glance at the paperwork inside provided him what he needed.

“Of the fifty staff I employ, there are four of us.”

“That’s spreading it pretty thin. Anybody experiencing any unusual changes?”

Nils shook his head. “Not to my knowledge.”

“Do you have a notepad and pencil I might borrow?”

Nils lifted a brow. “Sure.” Opening his desk drawer, he supplied the items to Lee.

Lee spent a moment scribbling on the pad and shoved it to Nils.

Can’t be too careful. Realized after you mentioned ‘us’, we should have done this sooner. Who are the rest of the shifters?

Nils read the message and chuckled. Lee, in his job at the Criminal Investigation Division--CID for short, was always acting as though the world was involved in cloak-and-dagger. He’d play along.

My second in command who I’ve already mentioned, Marcus, the Deputy Head of Mission, is one of us, but he’s currently in China on a trade mission. Our head of Defense, James Sakura, is also a shifter and,” Nils smirked as he wrote the final name on the page, Lovisa Stromberg, the receptionist.

“Are you serious?” Lee spoke aloud his incredulity.

Nils leaned back and laughed. “Who better? Nothing wiser than to have a strong front line.”

“True. Tell me, Nils, how is your agenda today?”

Nils shot Lee a wary look. “I have a light day today.” He toggled the computer mouse and brought up his schedule on the screen. He was set to confer with his staff on possible budget cuts at 2:00 pm, otherwise his afternoon was clear.

“Just a budget meeting at two I’m sure my staff would love to skip; aside from that… clear sailing. You thinking of a round of golf?”

Lee watched Nils eyes light up.

“Sorry, friend. I’d like to offer to take you to lunch, but I don’t want to be bound by time constraints.”

“Consider it done. Let me contact Mizuki.” Nils picked up his office phone and a muted conversation ensued. With a nod of his head, he replaced the handset. “Done. The meeting has been moved to next week; I’m sure nobody will be disappointed except the accountant, and you have me for the afternoon.”

He winked at Lee. “Where do you want to have lunch? Do you want to go native or have comfort food from home?”

Lee, a lopsided grin betraying his answer, rubbed his hands together.

“Let’s do native!”

“Sushi it is. I’ll call the driver and have him bring the car around. We’ll head for Uoisshin. You’ll love it. Best raw fish in town; on a conveyer belt, no less.”

Lee rose from his chair and walked to the window as Nils contacted the garage for a car and driver. He’d been feeling unsettled since his encounter with the giant in the elevator. His profession, the department of the Army where he worked, was obsessively compulsive about the secrecy surrounding their work.

The large man today had recognized Lee’s odd colored eyes for what they were. His sure movements through the building disconcerted Lee. Yet, Nils made no mention of him in his listing of shape shifters working within the embassy walls. This little detail rattled Lee. He’d have to discover the extent of Nils knowledge, or lack thereof, about the organization.

Apathy could be his worst enemy here. If Nils knew more than he was letting on, Lee would find the truth. If he was as ignorant as he acted, the shifter community was in for a rough ride.

Friday, November 8, 2013


Semper Fi

 
What you see above is  a retired Marine Corps Master Sergeant. I bring this up because this weekend is a very special weekend for all Marines--it's the Marine Corps 238th Birthday on November 10th.
 
How do I know? This is my 85-year-old father in his Dress Blues with all his ribbons, strips and hash marks.  He is a World War II, Korean War and Vietnam War veteran. He served for 24 + years.
 
In the house where I grew up, November 10th was another kind of special day. Back in the days before the government changed all the holidays, November 11, Veteran's Day, fell on whatever day of the week it fell on. The year my parents married, 1949, Veteran's Day fell on a Friday. Dad was between hitches in the Corps and they both were attending college. Since Friday was a holiday, Mom and Dad married on November 10, 1949 so they could have three days for their honeymoon.
 
Shortly after they married, Dad went back into the Marine Corps. Consequently, their anniversary and the Marine Corp Birthday fell on the same day. They would've celebrated 64 years of marriage.
 
I now have a son-in-law who served in the Marine Corps and ride my motorcycle along with many Marine Corps and other Vets. I'm proud to have grown up respecting my elders, saying yes sir, no sir and feeling my eyes well up every time I heard the National Anthem.
 
If you know a Marine, past, present or future, wish them a Happy Birthday. And thank every Veteran you see for the ability to do pretty much what you please. Without them, we would have nothing.
 
Thank you to all our veterans.
 
Sable Angel

Thursday, November 7, 2013

The Angels Present: Check In Day



Sunset in Oia Greece

Look Past The Sunset To The Sunrise

It's Check In Day.

Time to pay the piper! How did you do? How much did you write? Did words explode on your WIP?

This is the Rogue's Angels weekly check-in. Every Thursday we encourage the Angels and visitors to let us know how their writing is going.

How well are you doing?

Had problems this week? That's ok. Just sit down this coming week and write. Whatever you do, don't let difficulties from the week before get in your way this week.

Every word is one word closer to the finished product.

Oh my, I'm still working on Highland Sunrise. Last read aloud before sending it back to my editor.

 Happy writing.

How was your week?