Wednesday has arrived and Christmas is totallly in the air. Sadly, I don’t think I’ll have a Christmas tale to share this year. I don’t know. I’ll see what happens between now and next Wednesday, which is–coincidentally–Christmas Day. That said, I do have new words for today. Again, they are from MOONSTRUCK: RETRIBUTION but this batch occurs much later in the book, ie. during the BLUE MOON section. The prompt was a tough one–for me, at least–this week: *“They go down quickly, do they not?”* Somehow, I managed to pull an Honorable Mention out of the hat. 😲 Since I’ve jumped ahead in the story, I’ll refresh your memory. DJ is a Deputy US Marshal. She first appeared in WOLF MOON, then the finale of ROGUE MOON, and then got her own story in BLUE MOON. This scene takes place in her office in Las Vegas.
****
DJ glowered at the files piled on her desk. “Why me?” she groused.
The deputy marshal at the next desk snorted. “Because you’ve got the best clearance rate in the office.”
She leaned back until her chair creaked. “That’ll teach me.”
“Awww, whatsa matter, hot shot?” Another deputy grinned from two desks away.
“You’re just jealous.” She could banter with the best of them. She wasn’t the only female in the office but she was more like one of the guys than the others.
He eyed the stack. “Better you than me, darlin’.”
With a heavy sigh, DJ grabbed the top file, opened it, and proceeded to read the first page.
Two hours later, she closed the last folder and flexed her right hand, surprised it wasn’t cramping from the copious notes she’d made on each case. Twisting in her chair to stretch the stiffness in her back, she eyed the eight empty paper cups littering her desk. When the heck had she drunk all that coffee? She hadn’t left her chair. Evidence indicated they’d just magically appeared. She stared, dumbfounded.
“They do go quickly, don’t they?”
She glanced up at the deeply masculine and cultured voice. And blinked. The man was completely at odds with the image her brain had instantly conjured. No sexy 007-type hunk this. Nope. He was slender, bespectacled and short. “Excuse me?”
“Criminals and cups of coffee. They go down swiftly, do they not?”
“Who are you?”
“Newton Graham. FBI. We need to talk.”
DJ did not reach into her pocket to finger the USB card. Instead, she put on her game face and prepared to lie through her teeth.
****
The only worse phrase than “We need to talk” is “I’m from the government and I’m here to help.” Another memory refresh, which will come out when I edit this scene into the original, at the end of ROGUE MOON, DJ was left with a USB card that had all sorts of information on it. Also, the Wolves and families have gone totally off the grid–except for when they pop up to take care of that Christmas crisis over in southern New Mexica. *bwahaha* Anyway, y’all have a Merry Christmas, Happy Yule, Happy Hannakuh and a Happy Kwanzaa. Writers, may you have the gift of words. Readers, may you have the gift of words written by your favorite writers. And since writers are also readers, I’ll ask today’s question of both: What book would you like to find in your stocking this year?
Silver James 