Taste of Kiwi: Blog of Author Shelley Munro

This week’s theme for Snippet Saturday is a fight. Instead of giving you a scene where my characters fight either physically or verbally, I’ve chosen a scene from House of the Cat where the ship is attacked by pirates. This is definitely a fight for survival!

HOUSE OF THE CAT by Shelley Munro

Camryn gave a gasp of mortified horror, her face flaming. “Get out of my head.”

“I—”

The wail of sirens brought a curse. Ry scooped her up like a troublesome parcel and dumped her on a chair. She’d scarcely settled her butt on it when Mogens leaned over and buckled her into a harness. He sat beside her and strapped in, his body tense while he surveyed the blackness outside the ship.

“What is it?” Camryn finally gathered the courage to ask, alarm swooping through her belly when the ship suddenly dropped. Her stomach followed, feeling as if it’d landed on the floor at her feet. “What’s happening?”

“Pirates,” Mogens said tersely, his attention on the porthole and instruments.

Pirates? Camryn craned her neck, watching the fast-approaching black ship with acute trepidation.

A violent explosion seared her retinas. Their ship tilted. A second explosion tossed the ship in the other direction, forces throwing Camryn against her harness. A squeak squeezed past tight lips. She glared at Ry, casting blame. His fault. All of it.

Hell, she was gonna die.

“Another black ship at Nor-nor-west,” the man at the controls said in a tense voice.

“I see him. Three total.” The captain sat totally at ease.

Why weren’t they firing back?

“Looks like Banio colors,” the warrior said, her blue eyes narrowed to angry slits. “How the hell did they know we were in this part of the universe?”

“Get ready to fire,” the captain said.

“Ready to fire,” the pilot answered.

“Ready to fire,” the warrior confirmed.

Camryn grasped the edge of her seat with a white-knuckle grip. Scared rigid, she closed her eyes to shut out the ships firing on them and almost immediately opened them again. A harsh sob jammed halfway up her throat.

“Fire.” Cat Man—Ry—finally gave the order.

The ship bucked. Camryn’s stomach divebombed south. Yesterday she’d have welcomed a reunion with Gabriel. Now, in the face of death, she learned she wanted to live.

Flashes of light detonated across the black depths of space. Had they hit the other ships? Blind from the bright flares, Camryn couldn’t see. One of the ships returned fire. Their pilot attempted evasive action but wasn’t quite quick enough. The ship tilted at an acute angle. Shook wildly. Alarms screeched. One of the aliens cursed.

“Fire in the hold,” Ry shouted. “Nanu and Kaya to the hold.” Two of the crew unbuckled and leapt to their feet.

“Come in, Indefatigable,” a mocking voice transmitted. “We have you, Monsieur Coppersmith. Surrender so we can claim the très bien bounty on your pretty head, no?”

“Fukk you, Banio. Fire!” Ry took over Warrior Woman’s gun.

Simultaneous shots rang out. A ship exploded in a fireball. Scant seconds later something clipped their ship, sending it into rapid rolls. The other crewwoman flew from her seat, belting into a fixed chair with a sickening crunch. She moaned.

Ry fired his gun again. “Yep, hold steady. Mogens sitrep on Jannike.”

Mogens unfastened his harness, grabbed his satchel and scrambled across the bridge to the woman.

“Camryn, man the gun,” Ry ordered.

“Me?”

“There’s no one else. When I say fire, push the black button.”

Camryn fumbled with the harness release. She teetered across the bridge with gangly foal steps.

“Buckle the harness.”

Another order. Damn, she didn’t want to die. Shaky fingers clicked the harness into place. When she stole a glance at Ry, his green eyes held approval. Calm confidence.

“Ready?”

Camryn licked her lips and nodded, the ball of nerves inside her stomach huge and bigger than any pre-race nerves. This couldn’t be any worse than killing aliens on a computer game. Surely? “Yes,” she said hoarsely. “Black button. Push on command.”

“Line her up, Yep. They’ll expect us to go for the stricken ship. Target the other first. Bloody mercenaries.”
Ry glared out the porthole. “On three, Camryn.”

Camryn gave her palms a furtive wipe across her trouser legs. She swallowed, wished for a shot of whiskey. Her knees quaked and she felt strangely disembodied. Just a game, she told herself. A silly kid’s game.

“One. Two. Three. Fire!”

Camryn’s sweaty finger slid across the black button, depressing it. The ship bucked, a metallic screech grating against her ears.

“A hit! Great shooting,” the pilot shouted.

“Once more,” Ry ordered.

The pilot lined them up. Ry shouted orders. Camryn fired. When she focused, after a huge explosion of bright light, not a single ship showed in the black vacuum outside.

“We got ’em, Captain,” the pilot shouted in jubilation. “They’ll think twice before they engage a frigate again. Long-range guns get them every time.”

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To read more Snippet Saturday excerpts follow the links below:

Shelli Stevens
Emma Petersen
Shelley Munro
Mari Carr
Lissa Matthews
TJ Michaels
Juliana Stone
Taige Crenshaw
Eliza Gayle
Elisabeth Naughton
Ashley Ladd
McKenna Jeffries
Lauren Dane

This week’s theme is humor. One thing I notice in most of my reviews is the mention of humor. I don’t set out to write humor, but it appears to creep in when I’m not looking. My excerpt is taken from my debut Ellora’s Cave title, Talking Dogs, Aliens and Purple People Eaters.

Talking Dogs, Aliens and Purple People Eaters by Shelley Munro

“We’re gonna crash. Buckle up.”

“What?” Janaya spun around to gape at her aunt, Hinekiri. One look told her the truth. Hinekiri wasn’t teasing.

Janaya gulped and scowled out a porthole at the rapidly approaching blue planet and muttered a succinct curse, trying to halt her escalating panic. Tendrils of icy fear curled around her insides. Her worst fear come to life. “I thought you said this…this antique had plenty of life yet.” She fumbled with the harness straps and another weak curse slipped out when the ship plunged into white, fluffy clouds sending her stomach swooping toward her toes.

“Ah, good.” Her aunt’s voice held satisfaction, despite their impending doom. “You worked your way through the Earth-speak tapes.”

Janaya stared at her aunt, speechless for an instant, before her gaze slid past the porthole once more. She swallowed and imagined shaking Hinekiri until her teeth rattled and good sense reigned. The image didn’t ease her panic any.

“We’re gonna bloody crash,” Janaya shrieked. “Pay attention. What do I do? I don’t know anything about flying this bucket of bolts. I’m a bodyguard.”

“Yes, dear, and I’m very proud of you.”

“Hinekiri!” The only reason she’d boarded this ship was because fear for her aunt’s life was greater than her dislike of flying. She was beginning to regret her impulse big time.

“I said we were crashing,” her aunt said. “I don’t believe I mentioned death.”

“You… When we land, I’m going to damage you,” Janaya gritted out.

“Tsk-tsk.” Her aunt waggled her forefinger while she nonchalantly maneuvered the manual steering controls. The ship groaned in loud protest and if anything, they picked up in speed. “I thought you stowed away to protect me from the bad guys.” A teasing grin flashed, lighting up her lined face. “Not do their dirty work for them.”

“Tell. Me. What. To. Do.” They were gonna die. Janaya was sure of it. She’d never live to set foot on Dalcon again. She’d never get the captain’s promotion she was aiming for, the promotion she’d earned by sheer hard work. And Santana would find someone else.

“Harness up and let me concentrate.”

Tension seeped through Janaya’s body, finding an outlet in her white-knuckled grip, as she watched her aunt calmly prepare to crash.

“I thought you said most of the Earth’s surface is water,” she blurted, her gaze darting from the porthole on her right to her aunt and back.

“That’s right, dear.”

“Are we going to land in water?”

Her aunt looked up from the panel of controls and frowned. “Can’t you swim?”

Janaya bit her bottom lip to keep the curse that trembled on her tongue contained. “Yes, I can swim.” The quirk of Hinekiri’s top lip gave her away, and Janaya’s shallow breaths eased out with a relieved hiss.

Chances were good that her aunt was…ah yes…pulling her leg. When she stood with both feet firmly on the ground again, she’d feel more in charge. After an aggrieved glare at her aunt, she amended the thought. Maybe not.

“Assume crash position.”

Janaya stared at her aunt. Then with morbid fascination, her gaze drifted to the bridge view port. Instead of the water she’d expected, she saw land. Flashes of green, trees, then a sea of gold.

The initial impact jolted her body and clacked her teeth together. Behind her, something crashed to the floor—probably one of the stupid Earth-speak tapes her aunt had insisted she view and assimilate. The ship hurtled off the ground then hit again.

“He-haw!” her aunt shouted, one hand raised in the air, her wiry body riding the impact despite the constraints of her harness.

Janaya lacked the same exhilaration as they bounced across the ground barely missing a large tree. The sturdy branches gouged the protective outer shell of their ship as they zipped past.

“I’ll try for up in those hills.” Her aunt jabbed at the controls, and the ship responded sluggishly before hurtling to the ground again. Trees and hills passed in front of Janaya’s horrified eyes.

What felt like hours later but was probably only a matter of minutes, they settled feet short of a dilapidated building, up on the hill. The stench of metal fatigue lay heavy in the air.

“I need to stand on the ground,” Janaya muttered. “Now. Is it safe?” Nausea worked up her throat. In a panic, clumsy fingers clawed at the restraining harness. In the end, her aunt leaned over to release the lever.

“No problems with the atmosphere here,” her aunt said. “New Zealand, according to my charts. Clean and green.”

Janaya needed no further urging. She stumbled out the door, dragging in huge breaths of fresh air until her lungs ached. Gradually, the panic attack subsided leaving her shaky and embarrassed. Make that mortified.

Thank the Gods her aunt had been the only witness.

Hinekiri strode down the narrow exit steps from the ship and stopped beside her. She patted Janaya on the shoulder in a silent gesture of comfort. “Janaya, we need to camouflage the ship so the Earth people don’t stumble across it.”

“All right. I—” The small hairs at the back of her neck prickled to life. Janaya stilled, her eyes narrowing as her gaze swiveled to survey the area around the ship. Her hand slid toward her hip.

“Back on the ship,” she snapped to her aunt as she pulled her weapon free. “Now.”

To her right, the leaves of a fern shuddered. Janaya scented the air. Sweat. Torgon sweat.

“Come on out with your fingers poked inside your ears,” she ordered, aiming her neutralizing weapon at the dark green bushes that had moved.

“That would be, hands in the air,” her aunt said.

Janaya shrugged, not taking her eyes off the leafy plant. “What ever. I have a weapon. Come out.”

The fern leaves shook, dried leaves crackled underfoot. Janaya’s outstretched hand never wavered, the heavy weapon still pointing at the bushes.

“Don’t shoot.” A black nose thrust past a lacy fern leaf.

Janaya’s eyes widened.

A black face with black eyes poked into view. “Are ya gonna shoot?”

“Janaya put the weapon down. It’s a dog. Nothing to get trigger happy about.”

“Yeah,” the little dog said. It stepped into full view. The dog stood below knee height and had white fur peppered liberally with black spots. It trotted closer, tail wagging. “Do ya have any food?”

Talking Dogs, Aliens and Purple People Eaters is the first book in the Talking Dogs series. Purchase from Ellora’s Cave.

To read more excerpts follow the Snippet Saturday links below:

McKenna Jeffries
Vivian Arend
TJ Michaels
Kelly Maher
Ashley Ladd
Shelley Munro
Taige Crenshaw
Lauren Dane
Mari Carr
Shelli Stevens
Lissa Matthews

This week’s theme is mistaken identity, and I’ve chosen an excerpt from my romantic suspense Playing to Win.

Playing to Win by Shelley Munro

“Damn, that feels soooo good.”

Kate Alexander grinned and worked steadily, competent hands gliding over her client’s powerful body, massaging knots from tight muscles until each breath the man took was deep and even and relaxed.

Forest birdsong and the bubble of flowing water poured through concealed speakers in the corner of the dimly lit room. A tea candle flickered under a bowl of scented water, steam rising to release floral notes of lavender and exotic sandalwood.

Without warning, the strident demand of a doorbell shattered the calm oasis. Pried from her deep concentration, Kate dug her fingernails into the muscle of her client’s right calf.

He jerked awake with a grunt, wincing. “Ow! Whaz’s wrong?”

“Sorry, Adam.” Kate made a soothing sound and continued with feather-soft stroking until he relaxed again, but her attention had fractured and she glared in the direction of her front door. The sign in the middle of her door was clear enough for even a child to understand. Aromatherapist at work. Do not interrupt.

The bell rang again with three staccato bursts. A brief interval later, deafening thumps echoed through her inner sanctum. Kate cursed under her breath and eased the massage to an end. She wiped her hands on a towel to remove the last traces of oil and shrugged off her pale green protective coverall. “I’m sorry. I don’t think my caller can read.”

Adam glanced over his shoulder, flashing a grin as he pushed up and secured a towel around his waist. He checked the clock hanging on the far wall. “No problem. It’s time for me to leave anyway. My last scenes are being filmed tonight and the makeup artists need plenty of time to make me look pretty.” He chuckled, enjoying the joke at his own expense.

Kate smiled at the well-known Auckland actor. If anything, they used the makeup to downplay his boyish blond looks. At least that’s what his wife and her best friend Danielle said. “Thanks. Tell Danielle I’ll call her later in the week.”

“Sure thing, sweet pea.”

She left Adam to dress, closing the door between her sanctum and the hallway. The impatient hammering continued unabated. For the love of Pete! Her white runners slapped against the tiled floor as she rushed to answer. Probably Jamie and he’d forgotten his key again…

Kate jerked the door open. “Jamie, what…?” Her words trailed off when she came face-to-face with a stranger. Tall, he loomed over her, his dark hair and tetchy expression reminding her of a thundercloud. Admittedly a very sexy one. She gaped at the enigmatic man trying to read him, for some unknown reason fascinated with learning what had ruffled his day. “Can I help you?”

The impassive mask slipped momentarily and she read the flush of displeasure high on his cheekbones, in his glittering eyes. Tightly leashed emotion radiated from him in waves and alarm seeped through her. Kate shifted uneasily before common sense told her to stop being stupid. Help was a call away. Still, as his broad shoulders angled closer, she inched backward, pleased Adam was still here. Her slow retreat didn’t go unnoticed. The hard planes of the man’s face tightened and he observed her closely like a predator stalking prey. Pewter-gray eyes fixed her with cool speculation then, just like a light switching off, his face blanked.

Her skin tingled under the scrutiny and, to her chagrin, the sensation wasn’t entirely nerves. The sexy thundercloud thing. She shuffled her feet again, barely resisting the urge to check the buttons on her cream blouse were correctly fastened. Adam would make an appearance soon. She hoped. Heck, if she reacted to a grumpy stranger like this, celibacy was definitely doing something weird to her hormones. Dark, rich chocolate had worked as a sexual substitute in the past. She’d grab a chocolate bar from the pantry the minute the man left.

Kate conducted a quick, edgy survey of her own. He appeared well groomed, wearing an expensive suit that probably cost more than she earned in a month. She was positive she’d never seen him before. The man would make a lasting impression with most people. He bore an innate charisma, not traditionally handsome or striking like Adam, but intensely masculine. His powerful build coupled with strong, dark features demanded attention, but it was the mesmerizing gray eyes surrounded by lush lashes that would make a woman take a second look. And long to run her fingers through his silky hair. Her survey swept his body from top to bottom and back again.

Oops. Her mouth dropped open when her gaze collided with a cool gray one. Piercing eyes shot salvos of exasperation at her, as if he were impatient to complete an unpleasant chore. Kate racked her brain trying to work out why he was here demanding entrance, wrinkling her brow in concentration. Maybe he had the wrong house?

“Katherine Alexander?” he drawled.

Kate’s heart sank. Not the wrong house after all. And why would it be? Everything about him radiated self-assurance. For a brief moment, she considered shutting the door in his arrogant face, but a speculative glance at the muscled shoulders filling out his charcoal-colored designer suit changed her mind. Not a viable option. Kate sensed he didn’t intend to leave until he’d gained exactly what he wanted. Whatever that was.

“I’m Kate Alexander,” she admitted with a touch of caution.

Purchase Playing to Win

To read more Snippet Saturday excerpt follow the links below:

McKenna Jeffries
Vivian Arend
Ashley Ladd
Shelley Munro
Taige Crenshaw
Mari Carr
Shelli Stevens

Today’s theme is pets or animals. My Middlemarch books are full of feline shifters. My Talking Dog books feature Killer, the talking dog, but today I have an excerpt from Lynx to the Pharaoh. The hero in Lynx to the Pharaoh is a caracal shifter.

Lynx to the Pharaoh by Shelley Munro

As a caracal, he tested the air. Along with the storm and the myriad scents from the oasis, he smelled the campfires of the English tourists. Sethmet had visited them already in his position as family head, hiring out his guiding services in order to keep an eye on them—a case where his years of education in England helped. Amusement flicked through his mind when he recalled his loud protests about leaving Egypt. Now with a few years of added maturity, he recognized the benefits to both him and his family.

A burst of wind whistled over the hill. A sandstorm fast approached, allowing the bloody moon to play peekaboo behind the clouds. The air sizzled with tension, communicating unease and something out of tune with nature. His eyes scanned the vicinity for anything suspicious. He listened. Nothing. Apart from the coming storm, all seemed as it should.

Sethmet’s slow trot hastened into a full-out run, just for the pleasure of feeling his muscles work and for the heady rush of air blowing through his coat. He rounded the end of a rolling dune, his sharp eyes picking up the Englishmen’s camp at the base of the next sand hill. The tents rattled faintly, the white canvas billowing with the building storm. The flicker of a lamp caught his attention, moving slowly away from the glowing embers of the campfire. Sethmet checked the air, smelling for danger again and paused in surprise. Subtle perfume—flowers of the lilac. Woman.

Sethmet sat on his haunches, blinking while he considered this new development. It was unusual for Englishwomen to come to his family’s oasis because it was so far from the big towns, several long days of riding camels that tested the temperament of a strong man let alone a delicate female. Perhaps she came with one of the local men. A wife or a lover. He hadn’t seen nor smelled evidence of her in the camp when he’d visited earlier. Not that the Englishmen had welcomed him with open arms.

Secretive bastards. He knew they were treasure hunters, intent on raping the pharaoh’s tomb. The greedy expression in their eyes when they thought no one noticed gave them away. No, they hadn’t made him welcome. They’d conducted business, looking down their sharp English noses at him. Sethmet blinked, thoughts of the treasure hunters dissolving as the light moved farther away. The steady retreat of the light piqued his curiosity.

On the unprotected side of the dunes, the wind tugged his fur, blew particles of sand in his eyes, bringing discomfort. He never considered ending his pursuit because something inside the cat urged him to keep following the bobbing light. A flash of white petticoat told him he’d almost caught the woman. His heart beat harder, faster.

Would she take fright at seeing the cat? Probably. Shifting wasn’t an option, not with an Englishwoman present. Nudity made them nervous. They didn’t even like to look at their own bodies. No, shifting wouldn’t work.

His ears flicked back and forth while he determined a course of action. Even if she had a link to the treasure hunters, the ones intent on finding the lost tombs, the approaching storm presented a danger to her. What was her protector thinking?

A powerful gust of wind, the dull roar of the swirling sands and the startled squeak from the Englishwoman made up his mind. Sethmet padded up to her swaying form, intent on herding her to safety.

Long ebony hair streamed out behind her while black skirts blew up and outward, baring her legs and white frilly undergarments. Her seductive scent filled his nostrils—flowers and woman. His heart jumped, astonishing both beast and man. The urge to shift and claim her sprang into his mind, shivered the length of his body. Suddenly, he wanted to sink into the warm softness a woman. This woman. The need to touch her velvet skin beat like an urgent drum inside his head. A soft snarl erupted in protest from his feline side.

The woman heard, despite the wail of the wind. She whirled, her blue eyes widening in astonishment.

But not fear, Sethmet thought with a sense of pride. He knew then this woman would be a worthy consort for the man who claimed her.

Purchase from Ellora’s Cave

To read more Snippet Saturday excerpts follow the links below:

McKenna Jeffries
Ashley Ladd
Shelley Munro
Taige Crenshaw
Mari Carr
Shelli Stevens
Jody Wallace
Victoria Janssen

This week’s theme is explosions. I’m using artistic license this week. LOL – my excerpt from Sex, Spies and Sapphires includes the word “explode”…

Sex, Spies and Sapphires by Shelley Munro

“Kiss me.”

“I’ve never met anyone as bossy as you before.”

“And you like it,” she retorted. “You like a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to go after it.”

She wasn’t wrong. Her independent streak and sassy mouth were the first things he’d noticed about her. Once again he thanked his lucky star for arranging their paths to cross.

“Are you just going to stare at me with a dopey smile? If Mr. Mark saw it, he’d demote you in an instant.”

She smirked. “I might suggest he promotes Chester to your job. Chester is so cute.”

Thomas moved so quickly she squealed. He whipped her over his knee and applied his hand to her naked backside. “Take it back.”

“Make me,” she said, laughter lurking in her husky voice. Sarah turned her head so she could see his face and pursed her lips. “I dare you.”

Little vixen. She knew just how to push him, which buttons would make him explode into action. He fondled her buttocks with his large hands, fascinated by the color contrasts in their skins. Sarah was pale where he was darker, tanned from spending time outdoors. Thomas bent to place a kiss in the middle of one pale buttock before leaning back against the headboard and slapping her ass.

“Oh!” she said with a squeak.

“Is that daring enough for you?”

Sarah waggled her ass. “Do it again.”

Shaking his head and laughing at the same time because of her outrageousness, he applied his hand again. The crack when hand met flesh was loud even though he hadn’t hit her hard. A rush of blood to her butt cheeks made them glow a soft pink. Sarah squirmed a little, the wriggling moves rubbing against the flared head of his penis. Thomas bit back a groan, knowing if he loosed the sound, Sarah would construe it as a weakness and think she’d won in this battle of wills. Thomas was determined to come out victor, just as he was determined to get his hands on the sapphire before Sarah. He knew she was after it even though they hadn’t discussed the matter.

He tapped her ass again, letting his hand linger on her stinging flesh to savor the heat. Sarah lifted into his hand and rubbed. The minx created a kiss of friction across his erection with the sly move, wringing a chuckle from him.

“What am I going to do with you?” he asked, his voice close to a groan.

“Love me,” she said. “You’re going to love me.”

He was doomed. Absolutely doomed.

Purchase from Ellora’s Cave.

To read more excerpts follow the Snippet Saturday trail:

McKenna Jeffries
Vivian Arend
Ashley Ladd
Shelley Munro
Taige Crenshaw
Mari Carr
Kelly Maher
Eliza Gayle
Victoria Janssen