If you’re new to the snips circuit or have found me by accident…Rainbow Snippets is a Facebook group where GLTBQ writers post snippets of their work every Saturday. There are snips from every genre, kind of pairing and heat level from sweet to steamy.
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Good afternoon, snippetteers! I hope everyone had a good week. Work is crazy here – which I should consider a good thing – and my back is not letting up – which definitely isn’t. I do give thanks for my friendly neighbourhood osteopath, though, who’s doing her best to get me fighting fit in time for our holidays. Other good things happening this week: I’ve had my fantasy novella Repeat Offence back from my lovely editor, have settled on August 14th as a release date, and have enlisted the help of the equally lovely Lily from Gay Book Promotions to get Taz and Hiro’s story safely launched.
Lots of decisionmaking, which isn’t always easy when stuff gets crazy… so I’m saying I’ve won this week.
With the next release in the diary, I should maybe be snipping from Repeat Offence, but… I’ll leave that for the Tuesday teasers. For my Rainbow Snippets posts I’m sticking with Sound Judgement, a dystopian / near future story of England after six years of anarchy. We’ve met Sweeper Ace Ian Rathbone, who’s decidedly unhappy with his life choices, and his new work partner Patrick McGowan, who does his best to help him without revealing that he finds Ian rather appealing.
Even though I wrote this two years ago – after watching a documentary about Hurricane Katrina – this snippet is eerily connected to this week in British politics. I won’t say much more about this, as it will spoil my peaceful weekend on all fronts, but… you’ll see.
From Sound Judgement
They passed the checkpoint at the entrance to Battersea Bridge and crossed the river, picking up the old South Circular Road on the other side. It was a different world, miles away from the broad streets and mansion blocks of the Fortress or the ornate red brick of Sweeper Central. Whole roads lay in ruins, heaps of rubble where homes once stood. Other streets were intact, but for the odd building that had been flattened or burnt. Much of the discontent had festered in this part of town. Riots had been commonplace in the months leading up to the coup and Ian, Fish and Remy had all fought on these streets.
In the beginning, broken shop windows had been boarded up. Then the planks were put to other uses and the council – or what was left of local government – stopped doing even that much to halt the decay. People had moved away from the constant fights and riots and so far, they hadn’t come back to this graveyard of burnt homes and burnt hopes that cut a swath from Battersea Bridge right down to Croydon.
The silence in the UAV was thick and heavy, laced with memories.
“I hate coming down this way.” Remy was the first to break. “Eight fucking years and they still haven’t fixed this. You’d think we were some third rate country in the boonies, not a highly civilised old world monarchy. And this is London, for fuck’s sake!”