Six Sentence Sunday 1-15-2012

Returning to Surfer Dude's chronicles this week. When we left Pierce and Mia, he had called her "Gidget," explaining what the Old Earth term meant, and teasing her because she only came up to his clavicle.

          Mia bristled like a sea urchin, her acquamarine eyes alight. "That's because you're a frickin'...giant."

          Pierce decided he liked flirting with the odd girl positioned behind the Spa Bay reception counter more than anything he'd done in a long time. She didn't seem cowed that he was a Cronoson, Lord of the Deep; she dealt with him not as a god but as a man.

          "So I can call you...'Moondoggie' then?" she asked, glancing back at the computer screen again.

          "You can if I'm your boyfriend, Gidge."

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Six Sentence Sunday 11-20-11

An idea for Cloud Boy's story (he's Surfer Dude's baby brother) has arrived like Athena bursting forth from Zeus's brow. So in honor of that plot bunny, here's six from the story of their big brother Aidon, The Reaper, and hero of my heart.  (One day, Aidon, I will find you a worthy home.)    

            “Listen, you big lug,” I murmur, gasping for air when his lips release mine.  “You’ve brought me Below, turned my whole world upside down – and  I haven’t done anything to you.”

            “My world isn’t exactly spinning normally on its axis, Stef.”

            "But I --" The Big Guy's stunning admission shakes me to the core. "Really?"

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Six Sentence Sunday 11-6-11

Surfer Dude's back. (For those of you who have been waiting.)

     “You here tomorrow, Gidge?”

          Mia raised an auburn eyebrow, the coppery brown of a worn penny-cronoson, a shade or two darker than the fiery mahogany of her hair.

          “It’s an Old Earth term," he started to explain, but she squirmed out of his arms to click the computer keyboard.

          “Gidget?” she squeaked. “Girl midget?”

          “Well, you only come up to here on me, Shortcake,” he shrugged, and drew a line at his clavicle.

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Six Sentence Sunday 9/4/11

Surfer Dude shrugged out of his evening jacket and draped the garment across the back of a chair.

Turning to her with the toothy smile of a rogue shark sighting dinner, he loosened his tie and began popping the black pearl studs that split his chest and drew the eye to his attention-grabbing torso.

She hadn’t asked him to -- all she'd had in mind was examining the tension in his neck and shoulder muscles -- but she wasn’t about to stop him.

When he peeled off his crisp linen dress shirt, she sucked in a sharp breath and her legs turned to water, the blood racing through them boiling like the stygian rivers in his brother's underworld realm.

Holy sea cow. Was he ever ripped.

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Six Sentence Sunday 8-28-11 Hurricane Irene Edition

“Where exactly does it hurt?”

"Like a freakin' head vise," he said, massaging his temples and shrugging shoulders stiff with tension. Magnificent shoulders that filled out the black evening jacket like the steel and titanium span bridging Nuevos Mares to mainland New Mycenae.

 “Take it off,” Mia instructed.

  

 “Excuse me?” Green-gray eyes probed hers with the merest hint of impending storm at sea -- and Mia wasn't about to press her luck and push his mood past nor'easter.

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Six Sentence Sunday 8/21/2011

           
             Mia tapped the computer to call up Surfer Dude's medical history. Too many entries she could not access at her clearance level. He might be Lord of the Deep, but a spurt of unease hit her gut like a bad clam.

          “When was your last blood test?”
          “Maybe six months ago,” he said and held up a hand to cut off her sputter. "Haven't been with a nymph since."

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Six Sentence Sunday 8/14/11

     Mia forced back the heat rising to her cheeks by adopting an air of cool professionalism as she stood up and reclaimed the stool behind the reception desk -- indicating with a flick of her hand that Surfer Dude's place was on the other side of it.

      He rose to his full height and nearly took her breath away.

      Leaping lobsters.

      Well over six feet of prime, masculine real estate.

      When he glanced down at her, her toes curled within the chunky fleece-lined boots she’d taken from Letisha’s locker.

      She adjusted her eyeglasses with scholarly deliberation and then picked up a digitex plasma clipboard as if it were a shield.

      "What seems to be the problem?" she asked.

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Six Sentence Sunday 7/31/11

Guess who?
             

     He exuded potent masculinity from every pore, a dynamic tsunami sweeping away anything in its path as he bent his head toward hers. 

     That faint trace of fragrant avicennia gerinans rose from his sun-bronzed skin and she inhaled him, sighing, dizzy enough to plop into his lap like the white blossom of the--

         “Black mangrove,” she murmured.

         His eyes widened. Gray-green. Like sea foam.

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Six Sentence Sunday 7-17-11

More from Surfer Dude this week. (Sorry Cole fans. He's being exercised elsewhere so I'm giving him a Six Sentence Sunday rest.)

     Mia's pulse raced but her reaction to the presence of the Lord of the Deep  had little to do with him catching her red-handed as she studied her data on the amethyst coral.

     His masculine scent made her head whirl and she inhaled the fresh, salt tang of the open sea, spices carried afar by ocean breezes, an alluring musk, a faint, vague sweetness she could not immediately identify.

     And lots and lots of testosterone.

     She might not be much of a nymph according to her step-sisters, but like all her kind she was sensitive to the silent, scentless churning of male hormones and the slightest whiff of pheromones -- and Surfer Dude gave off more than a whiff.

     Jumping Jellyfish!

    He might as well bathe in the stuff.


                      

                                                         
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Six Sentence Sunday 6/26/11

Looking forward to meeting everyone at RWA National this week!

And in the meantime, more from Surfer Dude, Lord of the Deep:

       Behind tortoise-shell glasses, intelligent eyes the startling aquamarine of a tropical lagoon stared back at him, revealing a warring array of emotions that sent another ripple of intense arousal shooting through him. 

      Pierce noted the inexplicable, guilt-tinged panic in her fascinating – and fascinated--gaze and, just beneath that, a compelling awareness as keen as his own. 

      Sleep deprivation might be making him more horny and reckless than usual but he bent toward her to remove her glasses. 

     Her breath hitched when he lifted his hand and a faint clicking, like the skitter of crab claws, filled the charged silence between them -- stopping the second he glanced up. Pierce noted the asymmetrical pincers of the small pink crustacean posing as a paperweight in the wall niche behind Mia's shoulder. 

     "You make a miserable shelf ornament, Cedric," he told the little Grapsus.



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Six Sentence Sunday 6/19/11

More from Surfer Dude, who's been kept up nights by a mysterious intruder to his realm. His only clue to the coral thief's identity is the neon pink dive fin she left behind. Now, on the night of his brother Cloud Boy's Sky Palace ball, Pierce ventures to Spa Bay for relief of a blinding headache. But the usual nymph-nurse is off at the ball, replaced by her step-sister, Mia -- who seems more than unusually ruffled by the Lord of the Deep's sudden appearance in the clinic.

        Pierce rounded the corner of the reception desk to see the flustered woman on her knees, her legs tucked under her, gathering up her discs and research materials with amazing speed. For every piece she clutched to her lab-coated breast, she dropped two more.  He squatted to help her.

        “You can’t be here!” she yelped, as she yanked a stack of print-outs  from his hand, shoved them beneath her butt and sat down on top of them.

        “I am, though,” Pierce said. 

        What was she trying to hide?

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Six Sentence Sunday 6/12/11

Back to Surfer Dude this week.

Our story up to now:  An intruder disturbs the beds of sleeping purple coral in his realm and Surfer Dude's only clue is a neon pink dive fin, size 5 1/2 M, stamped with the name "Dr. A. F. Wright" that the thief left beind when she fled. Now, on the night of his brother Cloud Boy's big ball, a raging headache sends Surfer Dude to the Sky Palace Spa Bay, seeking relief from the nymph-nurse. 

Where he meets Mia. 

“Name," the woman said, without looking up from her computer screens and the research materials spread before her across the Sky Palace Spa Bay reception desk.

"Pierce Cronoson.”

That got her attention. Ruling the oceans and rivers of New Mycenae definitely had its perks and bennies, Pierce thought.

"Oh!" The woman started, her gaze zeroing in on him like an omega ray just before a flurry of clumsy activity sent half her print-outs and discs sailing to the floor.

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Six Sentence Sunday 4/24/11

Since y'all seem to be enjoying Surfer Dude, Lord of the Deep...another six. Our story up to now: After his Sirens screech their alarms in Water World, Pierce searches the coral reef for the intruder that set them off. And, with the help of an anglerfish, finds the hot pink dive fin Mia left behind.


Beaming a light on the torn Day-Glo dive fin Sea Devil had given him, Pierce located the words stamped into the sole:

“Property of Dr. A. F. Wright. 5½ M.”

But no New Mycenaean human could survive down this deep without a submersible or other high-tech equipment. Even he and his brothers and their fellow Earthling refugees required special gear.

What in sixteen hells was he looking for?

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Six Sentence Sunday 4/17/11

A little bit more from Surfer Dude...Lord of the Deep, who's still looking for the intruder that set off his Sirens.

Pierce swam with great care along the barrier reef, his methodical glide slowing as he searched for subtle clues,  displacing the colonies of amethyst polyps, glass sponges and coralline algae.

A glowing cryptopasara couesi attached itself to his side and bumped his ribs to get his attention.

 “What do you want, Sea Devil?” Pierce growled without looking up.

The anglerfish worked its wide jaws, as if barking at him, and deposited a neoprene prize in Pierce’s hand: a full-footed, hot-pink dive fin, cleanly slit along the side, the strap ragged as if something had taken a bite.

“Where’d you get it, pal?”

The fish skimmed the side of an intricate, broccoli-shaped formation, flicking its tail to center Pierce’s focus, then waggled its bioluminescent lure in salute, and fluttered away.

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Six Sentence Sunday 4/10/11

More from Mia and Surfer Dude's untitled story, the second in a series of futuristic WIPs set on the planet of New Mycenae, where Pierce and his two brothers lord it over everyone.

By way of explanation: Pierce is Surfer Dude, Lord of the Deep. His youngest brother is Zack,  also known as Cloud Boy, who holds sway over everything above the planet's crust. Their eldest brother is Aidon, The Reaper, Lord of the Underworld, hero of the Book of My Heart.

Last week we met Mia. Although Surfer Dude appears in the ms before Mia does, this is his first scene after she makes her midnight escape, leaving her dive fin behind.

Pierce scanned the dark water of Quadrant Five until his cramping muscles forced him to rest. He stopped swimming and floated within the transparent membrane of the Air Surround bubble, debating whether to surface or return to the compound to mute The Sirens' alarms. He’d already switched out and depleted three oxygenated bubbles without finding any sign of the intruder that had set the girls off tonight. 


Should he discuss the coral issue with his brothers? Water World didn't interest Cloud Boy, who wasn't doing much to curb the black market trade. But Aidon might help: nothing got by The Reaper. 

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Two for Tuesday

      I'm playing along with Two for Tuesday today at the Women of Mystery blog. Decided I need a little push to get back to Surfer Dude & Co.  (Currently being torn in too many directions.) In the middle of a couple of WIPS--wildly different--both of which I like. Which to do, which to do? Lara & Cole (contemporary romantic suspense), Pierce & Mia (futuristic paranormal)?

Surfer Dude temporarily wins the day:

Pierce massaged the pebbled QWERTY tattooed on his forehead by the keyboard. He appreciated the Sirens’ thematic unity, but their off-the-charts decibel level tonight could deafen a dolphin.

Here's how you play: Pick two sentences from a book you're reading, and two from a book you're writing. (I'm declining to do the first part of that equation today, because I just read a sentence in a book that's consuming me, by an author I love, that was so clunky and awkward I couldn't believe what I was seeing!)

Have fun  with it, peeps!