Wednesday Words: Not a Cloud in the Sky

The sun is shining, the birds are singing and the Irish contingent of the Moonstruck Mafia series is jabbering away in my head. I don’t see a **CLOUD** in the sky to rain on their parade, despite the fact that I keep “shipping up to Boston” via Google maps. Still the last paragraphs of the opening chapter have the #1lineWed theme word–CLOUD–in it so here’s just a tease. To set the scene, Ronan O’Connor is the heir-apparent to the Irish mob. His younger brother, Mickey, is his #2. They “run” a bar called Clancy’s and the cops are serving search warrants on all the mob’s properties for…reasons. Anyway, Foley (who might be a dirty cop) is throwing insults and Ronan has made him cool his heels. Mickey, keeps snickering or tossing out comments only Ronan can hear. And here we go…
Ronan ignored his brother. Foley was a tool, to be certain, but they had no reason to play the cop’s game. “Mickey, go with the nice detective and make sure his men don’t damage the stock.”

“You can bet we’ll check every last damn bottle.”

Allowing a hint of a smile to lift one corner of his mouth, Ronan acknowledged Foley. “I’m sure you’ll find tax stamps on all of them, Detective.”

Mick moved to the door and opened it, waiting for Foley. He shot his big brother a look and got a slow blink in reply. The O’Connor boys never forgot a thing and their da had left them with one lesson: O’Connors never held a grudge, they always got even.

Foley brushed past and attempted to jam his elbow into Mick’s gut in a show of either scorn or intimidation. Mick didn’t move and flashed a grin at the startled cop as he all but bounced off before crashing into the door frame.

“Well. That’s sure to leave a bruise.” Then Mick pointed to the CCTV camera aimed at the door. “You won’t be tellin’ tales out of school, will ya now? After all, we can’t help that yer a clumsy igit.”

Foley righted himself and scrambled out into the hallway, face red and curses dropping from his lips like boos raining down on the Yankees during a Red Sox game. Mick exchanged another look with Ronan then followed the tool cop down the hall.

Ronan closed his eyes, listening as Foley and his men clattered down the stairs. His brother’s footsteps were lost in noise made by the others, not that Mick stepped heavy. There was another thing they shared with their da—and Brian. The Lupi versi pellis gene. Literally translated, it meant the man who wears the skin of a wolf. Wolf shifter. He’d never bothered with the science of it but knew it was a mutant gene attached to the Y chromosome.

His inner wolf chose that moment to stretch and raise his head. The thing snorted in disgust after Ronan took a deep breath. The cop’s aftershave hung in the room like an oppressive cloud. In self-defense, he stood and strode over to the window. He raised the sash and looked down on Dorchester Street. Cop cars blocked traffic in both directions. Boston drivers, not known for their great driving skills—or their patience—to begin with, played bumper cars with horns blaring. He shut the window.

The phone on his desk rang and he grabbed the receiver. “O’Connor.”

“They’re here at the warehouse.” Declan Donahue, his third in command sounded amused.

“I hope you are cooperating,” Ronan replied dryly.

“Oh, aye. We’re legitimate businessmen around here. We have manifests for every crate.”

Just like at Brian’s house, the cops would find nothing at the warehouse or here in Clancy’s. Especially not here. The bar was home base for the O’Hara mob. Yeah, bootleg booze made it’s way onto the shelves behind the downstairs bar and lots of cash showed up on the books but Clancy’s was a thriving business and had been for a hundred years. Of course, Southie gangs had fought over this turf for near as long. And given Brian’s orders, they’d be fighting for it again.

After all, the war had just begun.
And there it is, the hook at the end of the first chapter. I hope it’s good enough to make readers turn the page for Chapter 2. Writers, any cloud or cloudy words to share? Readers, how’s the weather in your neck of the world?


About Silver James

I like walks on the wild side and coffee. Lots of coffee. Warning: My Muse runs with scissors. Author of several award-winning series--Moonstruck, Nightriders MC, The Penumbra Papers, and Red Dirt Royalty (Harlequin Desire) & other books! Purveyor of magic, mystery, mayhem and romance. Lots and lots of romance.
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6 Responses to Wednesday Words: Not a Cloud in the Sky

  1. Oooo… good stuffs there! I’m so glad the Irish wolves are talking to you. Yay!

    Okay, so clouds, eh? I actually have a pretty good snippet for this, not spoiler-ific or anything, from my Untitled Fantasy. Gah, I really need to find a title for this book. Anyway, here goes…

    The sun had set by the time Uliph returned to Kingshead. The snow was lightly falling, covering roads whose earlier layers were decorated sooty-black. Uliph preferred the black. It reminded him of the towns after his dragon had done her worst. Soon, the soot here wouldn’t be from the scores of hearth fires belching their leavings from chimneys, but from fires on the roofs and the walls and the doors. And the bodies. Oh, how they burned brightly from the dragonfire.
    Licking his lips, he reached out to the beast. She was already circling over the city, far above the snow and clouds, waiting for his bidding. At the touch of his mind, a flame jetted through the night. Not as far above the clouds as I would like. The people might still see her and attempt to flee. He sent his thoughts up to her. Rise and hide.
    His mind encountered resistance. The dragon was hungry and when she was hungry, she became unruly. Uliph loosed magic in her direction and felt her cringe. But she did as she had been told and rose above the clouds.
    The attack would come while these favorites of the Lady slept and not a second sooner. If they saw the dragon now, they would flee. Or they would try to fight. The High Lord wanted his victims unsuspecting this night. Time enough later to taste their fear. After the shrouds were either destroyed entirely or had been pushed across this land that had once been theirs.

    Yeah, it’s totally first drafty and needs a little cleaning, but I’m working on that.

    • Silver James says:

      *makes grabby hands* Wants! I’m so totally going to enjoy this book! Dragons! Even if she’s chained to a bad dude. The imagery and worldbuilding is pretty compelling there, m’friend. And you’ll probably catch it, but there’s one POV shift toward the end of the first paragraph. I soooo do that too! Right now, the Irish are in 3rd but they keep wanting to go first. Gah!

      Anyway, I hope you’ll be editing soon because this book looks to be all kinds of awesomesauce! ❤

      • Heh. That’s supposed to be thoughts and in italics, but I forget to add the tags before I hit Post Comment. Sorry about that.

        And no worries. I’ve started making edit notes. It’s just slow going right now. Thanks!

  2. Dawn says:

    Hmmm. Sounds good

    Hot and humid here

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