Tag: Care

Never too Bad-You are Human

 

no matter what you’re going through, remember that you’re a human being, and you can fix your mistakes.

 

Good Rules of Thumb

skip-beat-manga:

KyokoRen Week 2017 | Day 7 – Smile

Twenty years from now, you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails.

Explore. Dream. Discover.

-Mark Twain

live,laugh,love

[Top]

Curse the Dawn ch24-25

windsurfingthroughhell:

Time to cry over CtD some more! It’s funny this is one of those books I don’t reread all that much (unlike htm which I can nearly recite by heart) so I’ve forgotten how really really good it is. I’m just enjoying it so much:

-chapter 24 – where do I start with this one? Rosier siccing the rakshasas on his kid and then wondering why he’s a great father, ummmm, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?? Pritkin, once again trying to sacrifice himself for Cassie, that boy has a complex  (side note: I love how KC follows through on things – she makes it very clear that Pritkin has something of a saviour complex, where Cassie is concerned anyway and it ultimately gets him killed. His sacrifice in HtM was actually super predictable and we really ought to have seen something like it coming. I mean, “It was the only reasonable course of action,” FOR REAL, who says that after almost getting themselves killed??). Plus, we have sudden, out of nowhere Casskin making out, which is essentially what I live for. Like most of the body swap stuff it’s simultaneously weird and sexy. Cassie is essentially getting to see the effect she normally has on Pritkin, and well, it’s hot. The ley line car chase is KC’s usual brand of breakneck pace, humour and adrenaline. I love how even Pritkin is freaked out by the whole thing.

– chapter 25 – I’m gonna have a stroke, there’s so much going on here. Marsden’s dog trying to attack Mircea. Mircea hugging Pritkin-in-Cassie’s-body. Cassie-in-Pritkin’s-body accidentally swearing at Mircea and pissing him off. Mircea pulling Pritkin-in-Cassie’s-body out of the room, presumably for some relieved reunion cuddles and from the sounds of things, gets slapped or kneed in the nuts or sth. Marlowe, dressed up and ready to party, wandering around offering everyone booze. Cassie talking shit  in front of everyone: “What? You like wearing a bra?” Serious note – hasn’t Saunders turned up early? Cassie’s been saying all day that her meeting with Saunders is ‘tomorrow’ but this is still today right?? I’m confused. Less serious note – Marlowe trying to provoke Pritkin is one of the many many joys in these books, they should wrestle it out again. There could be some kind of oil involved … Uh, moving on. “Renegotiate this!” Epically silly line, 10/10, would put in trailer for movie adaptation which is sadly never gonna happen. Mircea kissing Cassie-in-Pritkin’s-body – either he’s very relieved that Cassie’s okay or he’s always secretly wanted to make out with Pritkin a little bit. I mean, who hasn’t?

So, Fist I have to say thank you to @windsurfingthroughhell for posting these awesome summaries on the reread.  I suck at writing summaries.  I discovered this when I tried to do a timeline for the Anita Blake series cause I kept getting confused.  The software i used https://www.tiki-toki.com/ is amazingly awesome, But the free account only allows a certain number of entries.  And by the time I got to the 4 or 5 Anita Blake books, I had hit the max.  Which was totally insane.  And those of you who saw my attempts for the  Cassandra Palmer series, know I get lost in all the stuff.

I am hoping someone will make a  Cassandra Palmer timeline for us all to share at https://www.tiki-toki.com/ since I already used my freebie, and that thing took weeks of work, so I don’t care if its incomplete, I ain’t deleting it.

SO, my original point is that I keep responding to these posts, cause it keeps me from dancing merrily along to my tangential brains music…So, I am not arguing points or tearing anyone down, OK?  Just adding my two cents, and if I get a little vehement, it’s only because all of these characters mean something to me, even FRED for god’s sake…

From the beginning, Rossier confuses the shit out of me.  So, the fact that Rossier, who hates Artemis and Cassie with a vehemence, is the vehicle through which Apollo is taken down is just Fucking Priceless.  I think the fact that Rossier has antipathy towards Cassie and always jumps to “let’s kill her” is odd.  I mean, theoretically he has been waiting all these years for SOMEONE to break through Pritkin’s self hatred and walls.  But from the moment Cassie shows up, well its weird.  It keeps getting weirder.

These chapters are my favorite part.  We see so much stuff.  It hard to even begin listing it or really digest it.  I love Cassie, and its hysterical to see the vampires out of their element, the mages out of theirs and god so much more. I mean, theoretically they are all supposed to be working together but no one knows anyone else’s plan, they don’t even know who is who!

And seeing Kit Marlowe, spy extraordinaire still fucking lost-it just makes me giggle.  I mean they are fighting gods, with Cleopatra and Jack the Ripper and all Marlowe can do is hand out drinks.  He’s the stewardess on this flight to Ragnorak…And he keeps hitting his goddamned head, which is so fucking unfair. And he knows something is up with Pritkin, cause he isn’t responding right, but in his defense who’s first thought would be “That must be the pythia’s soul in the war mages body because of a chaos loving buddhist type god”? (Since we are on a reread, I will also say that I love it when Cassie and Mircea end up arguing in Marlowe’s office later, and he’s all “there is a god and he loves me”)  As a second aside, does anyone else want to know how Marlowe’s ties to the witches just up and disappeared?

And then you add in the triple D’s and Apollo and running up how many goddamned floors with Prtikin in a dress?

And yeah I REALLY want Karen to write the Pritkin Pov of what happens in that bedroom between Cassie’s body, Pritkin’s Soul, and Mircea!  Damnit, maybe there will be another event or opportunity to bring that up at some point when Karen has contracts for more books, and is looking for an idea…Sigh, who am I kidding?  I don’t have the money to buy a swag bag, let alone…oh well, I digress

And when Mircea kisses Cassie in Pritkin, just WOW.  I mean I know sexuality is probably mutable but still, to love someone’s soul so much that it transcends the physical…sigh again!

Anyways, I could go on forever, but who wants to read that?  SO, thank you for giving me talking points and tell me where I’m wrong.  I keep trying to do reread posts, but I read too fast and even though I am rereading the same stuff, each time i get a little bit different stuff.

Curse the Dawn Book Cover Curse the Dawn
Karen Chance
Fiction
Penguin UK
April 2, 2009
400

Cassie Palmer, the world's chief clairvoyant, just can't seem to stay away from trouble. After trying to come to an agreement with the Silver Circle - the magical organisation that's been trying to kill her for years - she finds herself kidnapped by one of its members and swept away in the ley line system, a series of magical currents that occupies the space between worlds. Cassie manages to escape but, fearing for her safety, she decides to invest in a magical device for protection. However, all she can afford is a statue that grants wishes ...But what Cassie doesn't realize is that the statue doesn't always grant wishes the way the wisher would like. And when she wishes for the strength to shift herself and companion Pritkin away from a dangerous fight, the statue grants the wish by switching her into Pritkin's body and him into hers. And that's when the real trouble starts ...

[Top]

Amy Lane Wounded

We are going to entertain you with a fiction,” He continued, “A faerie tale, a story, something dreamt of dozens of tens of years ago. Imagine my surprise when it turned into…” "A memory.” Cory stepped forward at his right and carried the narrative thread, just as they had rehearsed. “A memorial, a lament, a dirge, a paean…” "An exultation.” Bracken stepped forward carefully avoiding another touch with Cory, but at her other shoulder, “A cleansing, a triumph, a celebration.” "Yes.” Green took up his part now. “All of this and more, because this is a love song for our friend,” "Our lover,” said Cory and Andres.  "Our brother,“ Said Bracken. "Our son,” Said Arturo and Grace. “Our leader,” Said Renny and the vampires as they stepped forward together in a group. “Our beloved,” they all intoned together, and the echoes of their true love for their lost dear one lingered in the room for more than a few heartbeats. “We’re singing for Adrian,” Cory said then, alone, clearly, the heartbreak throbbing in her voice and in her intense, thin face. Her shoulders were bare, and she bore his mark on her back, and it was all Green could do to keep his throat clear for singing. "We will always sing for Adrian,” Cory added bravely, “Even though we hadn’t known he’d missed, and struck the opening chords of an old, old melody that now lay forgotten except in the minds of the fey who had grown up in the old countries and woods of Northern England, Ireland, and Wales. Singing in parts and counterpoint, Green, Bracken and Cory poured their heart into a song he’d written long before he’d left his home, met Adrian, or dreamt of Cory. Corinna and Allen and Graeme, Over the hills they ran A bonny bright girl with a ribbon,  O, two boys as thick as kin. They toddled under the lime tree, O, they toddled under the rose They toddled ‘till sun set, behind the Oak, they toddled from when the sun rose. Corinna why are you crying, O, Over a shirt stained red, Rain will fall and trees will grow And you will find lovers again. O We’re young; there is no time to waste. Corinna and Allen were lovers in fall, Over by yonder rose tree, Graeme came looking for his beloveds And wept at what he did see. Corinna why are you crying O, Over a shirt stained red, Rain will fall and trees will grow And you will find lovers again. Graeme ran like a man possessed He ran like he was followed by hell, He snapped his strong leg in painful two When into a gully he fell. So Graeme sat, with bounded leg When the militia came to town desert We aim to hunt them down. “ Corinna why are you crying O, Over a shirt stained red, Rain will fall and trees will grow And you will find lovers again. Allen came calling in darkest night And begged, "My brother, forgive me. I fed my love and broke your heart And we all can no longer be. But I run away to fight the day That our young men must wear red. I leave Corinna to your care, my friend. “ And with these words he fled. Corinna why are you crying O, Over a shirt stained red, Rain will fall and trees will grow And you will find lovers again. fight. No letter came, no friendly word Til field and moor turned green A spent young man came bearing a burden In which a bloody shirt could be seen. "Corinna, this is from Allen, know Your lover now lies dead. “ "Oh, Graeme, our friend, my life has ended I’ll never love again.” Summer passed and winter too, Corinna sat and wept. Graeme’s leg healed, but not his heart Until his promise then he kept. "Corinna, come stop your crying, O No. Not while the Spring is here. Corinna you must leave your weeping, O Please, beloved, please come. My arms are aching to hold you, know My heart can be your home. “ Corinna and Graeme were married, O As the summer died to fall. Their hearts still ache for Allen, though They love each other as all. And Rain will fall and trees will grow And you will have lovers again… Rain will fall and trees will grow And we will be lovers again. The end of the song was a repeat of the chorus, broken up and sung in passionate roundels. Cory’s voice soared over the chanted refrain of rain will fall, trees will grow, aching with the promise of hope and the heartbreak of loss as Green and Bracken called Corinna back to the land of the living. The fey in the harmony, intertwining, echoing, repeating the pain and the joy of love lost and found. The roundel built, and rose, and the emotion in the room crested, a giant wave of anguish, grief, and rebirth, and as their skin prickled with passion, their power—fed by anger and love and sex and emotion—burgeoned, grew, lifted, moved, heaved the pitch of the room to breathlessness, and everyone on stage raised their wounded wrists and released their bindings, and everyone off stage with a similar wound did the same, and Bracken finally, finally, answered the call of all that freely offered blood.

Amy Lane, Wounded
[Top]

CtD, ch18-20

windsurfingthroughhell:

Time for another cvgr speed commentary, body swap edition. The body swap is definitely my favourite part of this book and possibly one of my all time favourite sequences in the entire series. I’d pay big money for Pritkin’s POV while he was in Cassie’s body (if only Karen was on Patreon or something …) because this whole thing is just so funny, so messed up and touching and weirdly sexy at times. Pretty much typical Cassie Palmer right?

– chapter eighteen – Cassie’s initial reaction to Pritkin in her body is pretty hysterical. “I sounded like a very pissed off little girl.” Pritkin’s reaction to being in the wrong body is probably close to what mine would be like – shocked, appalled etc. His accent staying more or less the same makes sense I guess? Accents aren’t necessarily ingrained at a muscle memory level, we can change them very easily. Him keeping any metaphysical abilities he has, like good shields etc also makes sense because we know they’re a mental manipulation of the body’s magic.

– chapter nineteen – much and all as I love that Pritkin kicks ass even when in Cassie’s body – why is it so hot when he shoots people?? I definitely have issues – I would question the fact that his hand-eye coordination seems to have transferred along with his spirit. Cassie’s aim is far to bad to take that many people out with that kind of precision, right? I guess they were in close enough quarters that it didn’t matter. Anyway, I like our introduction to Jonas Marsden. It’s appropriately off key. I also like the way KC prepares the way for important introductions like this long before they ever happen – in Jonas’ case, we’ve already heard about him back in CbS. This is why I never trust what seems like random rambling, or irrelevant details in these books because they always, always come back in some way. This chapter also features the usual top Casskin banter – their arguments about the coffee and the training sessions are so fricking married, like for real, get a room.

– chapter twenty – more Casskin marriedness, their every interaction kills me. Cassie rubbing Pritkin’s back while he gets sick is just so weirdly cute? I mean I know it’s a pretty gross situation, but that’s what makes it so couple-y, that rather than being grossed out at all by Pritkin throwing up, Cassie’s instinct is to take care of him. Everything they do HURTS ME. ALSO ALSO I am not the only one who thinks they’re acting like a couple because Jonas very obviously thinks they’re together, see how surprised he is when Cassie doesn’t want to share a bed with Pritkin. More reasons to love the body swap – the classic line, “No Miss Palmer, what is bizarre is that I currently have a vagina.” I’ve been laughing at that comment since 2009. But great and all as that moment is, nothing but NOTHING will ever top Cassie waking up in Pritkin’s body with a hard on. Her panic at the whole situation is so completely believable and entirely hilarious, but at that the same time, it’s a weirdly erotic scene. She’s just so aware of his body, it brings out her latent attraction to him: “He’d be strong” is so hot I might evaporate. Also, we should start doing a group read drinking game – take a sip every time Cassie describes Pritkin’s hands, take a shot every time she talks about how green his eyes are and finish your drink if she mentions his hair being soft and/or terrible. Or maybe we should not play that game, because it sounds like a quick route to alcohol poisoning. For real though, Cassie has SUCH a crush, it’s killing me. And to top it all off, Pritkin knows exactly what she’s suffering and he thinks it’s hilarious. What a little bastard, I love him.

Ok, SO I know you are in love with Pritkin.  I get that.  I’m all for anyone who connects with the story in any way.  But I have a little bit of a different read on all this.  SO rather than assume that everyone knows whats going on in my head, I’m gonna spell it out.

Cassie is a young woman.  And despite the fact that she is pretty kick ass even from the beginning she hasn’t had a lot of experience with men.  Remember, that her very first sexual experience is IN Louis-Caesar.  and he was already, um, well very engaged in the sex act.  The geis has made sure that she’s married and has to have a three way with two people- I just said that sentence three times and it still doesn’t sound right, before she has had a chance to find her sexual feet.  

And Cassie didn’t start off in the “easy” dating pool-oh no she had to go for the biggest, baddest, most combustible men- First there’s Tomas, although he is pretty tame by comparison to the later love interests, he is a first level vamp, who was strong enough to play human for Cassie for 6 months and challenge the CONSUL of THE LATIN AMERICAN SENATE.  And he is her first sexual partner, although its rushed and co-opted by Apollo.  Then, there’s Mircea Basarab who has been the right arm of the Consul for a very long time-and it goes back to when he was a Prince in Romania.  And if you read Masks, he trained to become a great lover of vampires.

And, John Pritkin is half incubus too.  And he has had lots of experience before Rossier got his hands on her.  SO for Cassie, this body swap is in many ways a revelation.  It’s the first time that she has a sexual experience that is free of the heavyweights that are in her bed.  She doesn’t even get to masturbate without participation with Mircea via his mind skills.  And suddenly, shes in a male body.  And she gets to explore it, without anyone else rushing her,  

But even that gets ruined by Pritkin’s knowing smile and interruption.  SO I look at it as more about Cassie.  And damn does she deserve the time to learn about pleasure- although from inside one of the men is a little bit weird but hey it’s a pythia thing!  And what I loved most about the whole body swap was the whole thing AFTER they got back to Dante’s.  When Mircea kisses Cassie in Pritkin’s body….and the whole battle confusion and the run through the wild west and the way the body swap fucks Saunders up…

So that’s my two cents.  Sorry if you don’t like it.  Tell me where I’m wrong, ok?

[Top]

Cassie and Dorina’s meeting

“And, at the moment, some fuzzy blue stains that glooped along until they hit the mantel. And then flowed along its massive carved shelf until they fell off the other side. I blinked at them for a moment, and then wobbled over. They hadn’t waited. By the time I got there, they’d traversed the entire length of the room and disappeared. But before that, they’d gotten a little clearer for a moment. And instead of random blobs, they’d formed themselves into a vaguely person-shaped thing, with a distinct head, torso, and a couple smaller bits that might have been arms or tentacles. I supposed the former was more likely, but considering where I was, I wasn’t ruling out the latter. But here’s hoping , I thought, and stuck my head in the fireplace. Or, more accurately, through the fireplace, because the bastard wasn’t really there. It shouldn’t have surprised me—what does a vampire really And now that I thought about it, I vaguely recalled the consul vanishing into one the last time I was here, when she’d thought I was too out of it to notice. Like I had just done. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dark, and then to notice that I was standing in a corridor, surrounded by a wedge of hazy light. It was coming from a filmy ward over the surface of a square opening in the wall. The fireplace, I assumed, which was apparently just for camouflage. I could see the whole room from here, including the bed, which was creepy. But not as creepy as another light monster coming my way. What is this, Grand Central? I thought, staring stupidly at the haze for a second, which was getting rapidly brighter. And then I stumbled quickly in the opposite direction.  It wasn’t exactly a run, because running into utter blackness isn’t fun, and I wasn’t really up to it right now anyway. The best I could manage was a shuffle, with a hand on the wall for balance. But at least there was nothing to trip over, because nobody had bothered about decoration in here. It was just a concrete floor, cold against my bare feet, and an equally cold blank wall. Or it was until a reddish light started coming toward me from the other direction. I turned around, but the purple light monster was still there and still coming up strong behind me, judging by the way shadows were jumping on the ceiling. Well , s hit , I thought, backing up, trying to get a wall behind me. Which would have worked better if there had been one there. But my reaching hand found only air, just my ears registered a difference in the echo. I was standing in front of another opening. my head spinning, so I didn’t see much as the blobs passed by outside. Just flickers of different colors strobing in through the opening for a second. And then they were gone and everything was dark again. Except for something that gleamed to the far right of the room, displacing a tiny bit of dark. My eyes fixed on it, and after a moment, it came into focus. It was a candle. I felt my spine relax, and I let out a breath I hadn’t noticed I was holding. It was sitting on a small table by a bed. The bed was big and old-fashioned, with a canopy and curtains to close it off from the cold—and the consul’s spy tunnel, I assumed. It was the sort that had gone out of style with humans when things like central heating came into vogue, but had retained its popularity in the vampire community due to offering added protection from the sun. Of course, that wasn’t needed here. A windowless room inside a vampire stronghold was about as far from sunlight as it was possible to get. But the bed was there anyway. So it probably belonged to one of the older vamps, who tended to be more traditional. And who probably wouldn’t be thrilled to wake up and find a dhampir looming over him or her. I paused, because the last thing I needed was another fight. And if whoever was in there was old, they were probably also powerful and well rested and I…was not. So it might not just be inconvenient. I should go back to bed. kill him for five centuries and had usually ended up dead instead. He was fine and I didn’t even know that this was his room and he was fine . I moved closer. What the hell, feet? I thought, but the feet didn’t comment. Except to send up happy signals about the squashiness of the rugs and the smoothness of the wooden patches in between them. Which were brief because it looked like somebody had mugged a caravan in here, with a dozen priceless rugs scattered carelessly around. But at least they muffled my steps, not that I was worrying about it by the time I got halfway across the room. Because along with fine leather and old books and the faint smokiness of the candle was an even fainter scent. Dark and musky and piney and— “Mircea.” He was lying on his side, pale and cold and white, and for a second, my heart stopped. Until I told myself not to be stupid. He was a vampire . And when they rest, they don’t always bother to keep up appearances. Especially if they need their strength for other things. But I didn’t breathe again until I bent over him, and brushed fine strands of loose, dark hair off his face. And saw beautiful pale features, which unlike mine had been cleaned up. And vampires don’t waste time on corpses that aren’t going to rise again. So if he was here— could repair anything to do with the mind. Couldn’t he? I glanced around. It would help if he had eaten, but if so, dinner had already departed. I frowned at that. What if he woke up hungry? What if his mental abilities were impaired after everything that had happened? Why the hell was nobody here? The guy was a goddamned senator. Didn’t he rate a nurse? I glanced at the door, and thought about raising some hell, even if it got me kicked back to my room. Or into a cell, more likely, because no way was Marlowe just letting me walk out of here. The number of guards had said that much. But, of course, Mircea did rate a nurse, he rated a whole roomful of them. So if he was alone, it was by choice. But I still didn’t like it. What if that thing was still around here somewhere? What if it attacked him again? Only it wouldn’t, would it? If Radu was right and it hadn’t been Dorina, then it was almost certainly someone with a vested interest in my not recalling what happened on that pier. And that meant if it came back for anyone, it would be me. I felt my lips draw back from my teeth slightly. Good. It would save me the trouble of having to track it the hell down. Because I would. The son of a bitch had hurt Mircea. And nobody got to do that but me. I stared at him a moment longer, but he wasn’t looking real conversational. I shoved my hand through my hair, then cupped it on the back of my neck. The muscles were so tense there, it felt like I could flick a thumb against my nape and hear it twang. Like feel like leaving, even though there was no reason to stay. Mircea was already in a healing trance, judging by the fact that he hadn’t woken up as soon as I came in the room. He didn’t need medical help, beyond what he could give himself, and as for mental… Well, whatever abilities I had were locked up with my other half, and she wasn’t talking. But I still didn’t feel like going anywhere. Mircea’s hand slipped off the sheet, to the mattress at his side. I started to pick it up, to put it back in place. And then I stopped, my fingers hovering a few inches above his. Even in a healing trance, something like a touch might wake a master. In fact, on some level, he was probably already awake, at least enough to have identified me as not posing a threat. But a touch might set off alarms, might make him wonder if he’d identified correctly. And I didn’t want that. Mircea often managed to run circles around me in conversation even when I wasn’t about to fall over. We needed to talk, about a lot of things, about a lifetime of things. But this wasn’t the time. And then there was the fact that this was…nice. Odd, because I could never remember being with him without having my hackles up, without being tense and guarded and watchful. I had, of course; that scene in Venice proved that. But it had seemed almost…surreal. That girl with her bare toes and her candy-thieving ways and her obvious adoration of her equally adoring father…it just…I couldn’t… I pulled my hand back. wasn’t an expression I’d seen very often. Or ever, actually. But then, maybe he’d never had much to be relaxed about. I wondered what it had been like for him, in those early years. For someone trained his whole life to be the leader, the provider, the protector, to suddenly be unable to do any of those things. To be a prince without a country, or a treasury, or an army—or even a body he could understand. Because his exile had come at the same time that he’d been dealing with this whole new existence that had been foisted onto him. He’d gone from having everything to having nothing, almost overnight. And yet, somehow he’d managed. And in Venice, of all places, which had been a snake pit of vampire intrigue, back in the day. And not only managed, but taken care of others at the same time. I won’t always be weak.… And he never had been. He never— I swallowed and blinked back tears. God, I didn’t know what the hell was wrong with me. That attack must have messed me up more than I’d thought. Then I decided to hell with it and leaned over, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. And heard a softer sound behind me. I turned abruptly, because I hadn’t heard the door open. But it must have, because dinner was waiting on the threshold. Tonight’s tasty morsel was young and pale, with messy blond curls and unsettling bright blue eyes. They looked a little unfocused, like she was looking both through me and at me at the same time. She was a little creepy. She was also useless right now. “He doesn’t need you,” I told her, clutching at my sheet, which what he needs.” She just stood there, her mouth hanging open. I thought there was a chance that she might be a little slow. “You can go,” I repeated. “Vamoose, amscray, make like a tree. Do you get it?” “Yeah.” The voice had gone flat, cold. “I get it.” And then the next thing I knew, I was sitting all alone in the middle of a field filled with mud and some very startled cows. Who weren’t half as startled as I was. I got up, slid on a cow pie and went back down, landing in a puddle and splattering mud everywhere . And somewhere far off, like an echo of an echo, I could swear I heard someone laughing.  The fuck ?” #Karen Chance, Fury’s Kiss

[Top]

“Fertile females are like gold in Faerie, Dory—rarer even. And the fey can smell them coming. It’s like…bees to honey. You haven’t seen it—I have.” “Well, so what? They’re all adults. If they want to—” “ Fertile females.” “Oh. Oh ,” I said, finally getting it. “ Is that what you’re—” “Yes! I know what it’s like to be caught between worlds. I wouldn’t wish that on…well, certainly not a bunch of helpless children!” “But even if…I mean, the fey are notoriously infertile, right?” “With their own women, yes. These are not their own women! ” “Okay, Claire, okay. Calm down,” I told her, feeling a little strange because that was her line. “You’re their commander’s I’ve kept them so closely confined? Why Heidar has? They’ll just sneak out tonight when I’m asleep. It’s like babysitting twelve randy teenagers, and I can’t watch them all the—” “So why not get ’em some condoms?” Ray piped up. Claire stopped. And then turned to look at him. “I…don’t think they know what those are,” she said doubtfully. “They don’t have them in Faerie. The birth rate is low enough as it is; there’s no reason to develop something to lower it even further.” “Well, it ain’t rocket science,” he pointed out. “They could learn, right?” Claire was nodding, obviously liking this new idea. “Yes. Yes, they can.” She looked at me. “How many condoms do you have?” “What?” “Condoms, condoms! You must have some!”“Why must I?” I didn’t think sex once a decade warranted it. And anyway, the only guy I was into at the moment wasn’t the type to need them. Not that we would have anyway, considering that I’d spent much of the last two weeks recuperating. And that probably wasn’t going to change, since it would only make it harder when— “Dory!” “I’m fresh out,” I told her. “Well, go to the store,” Claire said, grabbing her purse and shoving it at me. “I—I’ll take the food out. They’ll have to eat first. And by the time they’re finished, you’ll be back.” “With the condoms.” “Right.” “For the giant orgy you’re convinced we’re about to have in the backyard.” “Dory! Just go!” “I’ll go with,” Ray said, getting up. “I need a snack.” Which was how I ended up condom shopping with a vampire. the house in my old Firebird. “No. She’s just…under a lot of pressure right now.” “What pressure? Her kid’s okay, right?” I nodded. Actually, I had no idea what Claire’s problem was. Maybe it was just residual. In about a year, she’d gone from underpaid auction-house employee to fey princess to new mother to woman on the run with her endangered child, who also happened to be the heir to the Blarestri throne. It was enough to put anyone on edge. But Aiden really was okay, with the conspiracy that had threatened his life over and the instigator dead. And he was now in possession of a talisman that pretty much ensured that he’d stay that way, even if someone managed to get past the wards, the phalanx in the garden, and the tense, half-dragon mother. Frankly, I didn’t fancy anyone’s chances. “She’ll calm down eventually,” I told Ray. “So what are you doing here again?” “Living,” he said, which I’d have taken for a smart remark, except he sounded pretty emphatic. But I didn’t have time to follow up on it. The nearest store was only a couple blocks away, and we’d already arrived. Sanjay, brother to Bawa of the world’s deadliest curry, ran it, but he went home at six and some new girl was on duty. We skirted the aisles of Ramen, cards of press-on nails and towers of hairspray that constituted daily essentials in Brooklyn, and finally located the condom aisle. It also housed the diapers and the baby food. I wasn’t sure if that was random product placement or brilliant advertising, but either way, there was a good selection. “So what kind are we talking about here?” Ray asked, surveying a neatly stacked display. “I don’t know. Just pick one.” “Well, there’s a lot of choice. I mean, you got your flavored, your ridged, your pre-lubed, your thin, your super-ultra-thin, “It says it glows in the dark.” “So?” “So what use is that to anybody? I mean, what am I supposed to do? Write her name in the air with it?” “I’d rather not think of you doing anything with it,” I said honestly. “Besides, the fey already glow, so you gotta think it’s a waste of—” “Ray!” I glanced around, but there was nobody within earshot. “Well, excuse me if I’m not used to buying condoms for aliens,” he said more softly. “They’re not aliens.” “Well, they’re not human. I mean, they could have anything under those tunics, you know?” “Like what?” “Like…I don’t know. It could be barbed or something.” “Barbed?” “Well, I don’t know.” He slanted me a glance. “Do you?” I just looked at him. “No, of course not. You’re too uptight.” “I am not uptight.” “You’re the definition of uptight. I bet you and Mr. Muscle Bound haven’t even done it yet.” “Okay, enough with the personal—” “Nailed it.” He nodded. “You wouldn’t have freaked out on him this afternoon otherwise. ‘Oh, no, somebody’s in my head for five seconds, even if it did save my life—’” I scowled. “You don’t get it. He’s not supposed to be able to do that.” “He’s a senior master. They got skills.” Ray shrugged. “Anyway, I don’t know what you’re complaining about. As soon as a baby and that he better toe the line. There’s the senior vamps in the family, checking out the new talent, just in case they want to recruit him for one of their cliques later on. There’s the slightly older babies, trying to dig up some dirt to make sure he stays on the bottom of the heap, and so on. And they never shut up . Yak, yak, yak, yak, yak, yak, yak. It drove me crazy for years.” “Is that what happened?” “But I got used to it. So will you.” “Maybe I don’t want to get used to it,” I muttered, examining a box that promised to vibrate. I thought that was my job. I put it back. “Oh, you want it, all right,” Ray said. “The two of you practically melt the walls every time you get within three feet of—” “That’s not the same thing,” I told him irritably. It wasn’t the sex that worried me. I’d had sex; I’d never had a relationship with a vampire unless you counted Mircea, and look how well that had turned out. If I couldn’t even manage the usual father-daughter stuff, how was I supposed to handle something much more complex with someone I didn’t know half as well? Relationships weren’t my best thing. They never had been. Even the easy ones. And nothing about Louis-Cesare was easy. “It is when you’re dating a master. You gotta take the whole package, you know?” Ray said. And then he stopped, and turned to look at me. “Hey, that’s it, isn’t it?” “What is?” “You never dated a master before.” “I’ve been with vampires.” “Yeah, sure. Any regular old vamp—I can see that. I mean, you’re stronger than him; you’re the one calling the shots; you’re the one who says when you’ve had enough and it’s time to head out.” the door. He blinked. “Well, that oughta do it.” I grabbed the basket o’ condoms and went to wait in line, ignoring the looks from a couple people ahead of me, who were apparently not used to seeing someone buying twenty boxes at once. Ray went to lean on the counter, supposedly enthralled by an awesome display of toenail clippers, but in fact snacking on the salesclerk. And, predictably, my stomach curled into a knot. It was one of the things—one of the very, very many things—about dating a master that wasn’t going to work. Ray made it sound so easy, like this was just some kind of tug-of-war, some weird power play, that I needed to get past and I’d be fine. Like all the other humans who eagerly lined up to attach themselves to the great houses. Mircea probably turned away fifty a month, and those were just the ones arrogant enough to try. Louis-Cesare, as the longtime darling of the European Senate, could hardly have attracted any fewer. Ray probably thought I should feel honored to have caught his eye. That I should feel grateful. That I should feel…whatever those other humans felt. He forgot one thing. I wasn’t human. There had always been a love/hate—okay, mostly hate—thing going on with me and the vampire community. I’d tried to stay away; I’d spent years trying. Like Claire said, there were other things to hunt and most of them were much less likely to hunt me back. But there was nothing that made my blood sing, my senses reel, my heart pound quite like chasing my natural prey. to me; they never had been. There was this weird kind of yearning underneath it all, and resentment and jealousy and a bone-deep ache that I didn’t understand. Not completely. I just knew that, every once in a while, the craving got too deep and it was either fight or fuck, and mostly it was the former but sometimes…sometimes it had been the latter. Just long enough to get it out of my system, to keep myself from going crazier than I already was. And then, yeah, I moved on. Why the hell wouldn’t I? If I stayed around, it always ended the same way, and crazy or not, I didn’t particularly like the idea of staking a former lover. No matter how much a few of them had deserved it. But this wasn’t a one-night stand. This was…well, I didn’t really know what this was, since I’d been avoiding discussing it. Talking about it meant facing the fact that this weird little interlude or experiment or whatever the hell I thought I’d been doing had run its course. Because how could you care about someone when his very means of existence made your stomach hurt? Not that Louis-Cesare needed to snack on random clerks when he probably had a whole stable lined up and eager to be used. I knew that. But still. It was what he was . And I killed what he was. “What size you think they take?” Ray asked. I looked up, blinking, to see that it was my turn. “Does it matter? We have plenty.” “Well, yeah. But they’re all different sizes,” he said, piling boxes on the counter. “And what if the—what if they need something like extra small? You got enough extra smalls?” “They’re not extra small,” I told him irritably. “They don’t need extra smalls.” “I thought you said you didn’t know.” “They’re seven feet tall!” “Don’t matter,” he argued. “Plenty of big guys got a Tiny Tim. it counts, the ladies know. You don’t gotta advertise.” The mocha-skinned clerk, who could easily have made two of Ray, snorted. “Well, there’s no way to know,” I told him, “so we’re just going to have to chance it.” “You could call her and ask.” “Call—” I stopped. “You mean Claire?” “Well, it was her idea.” I had a sudden flash of Claire’s face if I called to ask what size condom her fiancé took. It was kind of breathtaking. “You want me to ring these up or not?” the cashier asked. “If they don’t fit, can we bring them back?” “No refunds on condoms.” “Just call her,” Ray said. “I am not calling Claire and asking…I’m not calling Claire.”“Okay by me. I mean, I don’t care. But you get ’em too small and they pop off, and you get ’em too big and they slide off, and either way, it’s pointy-eared babies all ar—” “Ray!” “I mean, I guess they’d go over pretty well at a Star Trek convention, but the rest of the time—” “All right! Stop it! All right!” “It’s not just Claire who’s a little tense,” he said, as I dug around for a cell phone I didn’t have, and then commandeered his. I didn’t waste time trying to figure out how to phrase this because some things are better just winged. “If you’re not buying anything, you gotta get out of line,” the cashier told me. “There’s nobody else in the store.” “Don’t matter—there’s rules. Somebody could come in, and I’m the only one on.” “Start ringing things up, then. This won’t take long.” “Why not those?” She glanced at Ray. “’Cause if that’s your man, I’d say you can leave these off,” and she pushed the three biggest sizes to the side. “Oh, no, you didn’t,” Ray said. “It’s your own fault,” I told him. She might have thought it, but she probably wouldn’t have said it if he hadn’t been snacking earlier. But that sort of thing puts some people in a bad mood—usually those with enough magical blood to recognize the theft but not to name it. And the anger tends to resolve itself into a generalized dislike of the vamp in question. And then someone picked up. “Oui?” Damn. I thought about hanging up, pretending to be a wrong number, as cowardly as that would have been. But I guess he recognized my breathing or something—which was disturbing enough right there—because he said, “Dory?” “What are you doing there?” I asked, harsher than I’d intended. “I was about to ask you the same. Where are you?” “Buying condoms,” I said, watching the salesclerk ring up a box of mediums and hand them to Ray. “Why?” “Is there more than one reason?” I asked, because “we have a garden full of randy fey” wasn’t on the approved-conversation list. There was silence on the other end of the phone. “What’s this shit?” Ray demanded, looking at the salesclerk. “Honey, truth hurts, but ain’t no way you’re a Magnum.” “Well, I ain’t no medium!” The clerk smiled. “Yeah, but I was being generous.” “Dorina,” Louis-Cesare finally said. “You do realize…I thought you had been with our kind before.” “I have.” voice had changed. “Who are they for?” “What are you doing?” the cashier demanded, as Ray grabbed another box. “I ain’t rung those up yet.” Ray pulled out a foil package and tossed the box back on the counter. “So ring it up.” She arched an eyebrow, but didn’t bother, maybe because she was watching him unbutton his fly. I caught his wrist. “What are you doing?” “Proving a point.” “Not in the middle of the store, you’re not.” “Ain’t nobody here,” the cashier reminded me, grinning. “And ain’t no way he’s filling that thing out.” “Dorina?” Louis-Cesare’s voice was loud in my ear. The one I had squeezed against the phone, which was squeezed against my sore shoulder, because I was using both hands to keep Ray’s point in his pants. “The fey, damn it!” I told him. “They’re for the fey!” “Which one?” Louis-Cesare asked, his voice going velvety soft. “All of them— No, Ray! Ray, cut it out!” “ All of them?” “No, that’s not what I—”

#Karen Chance, Fury’s Kiss
[Top]

the interminable wait for book _______

So, here’s the thing.  I am a reader.  And with the advent of new technology, I can have my phone read to me while I do a gazillion other things…So, due to the fact that I had a speed reading class in high school and …well I consume books.  And quickly.  It makes Tuesdays my favorite day.  And I have a lot of series I follow.  So Karen Chance is one among the many for me.  And at first I was Seriously mad at the delays and changing publication dates.  

But in the last year, I have come to realize that my book’s are a coping mechanism.  They give me something to hold on to.  Something to talk about.  Something to occupy the 60% of my brain that keeps screaming this can’t be my life.  And to let me be somewhat calm, and positive.  At least I’m not being chased by monsters, only creditors!  And yes, I am a widow with two beautiful teenage daughters.  Which means that I am scared to bring any man home because I am very careful about my blue eyed, blonde haired beautiful brilliant children are exposed to.  And I had a great husband which means I am not willing to settle for anything else.  So I read a lot of very explicit series cause that’s my only sexual release.

So I read Laurell K Hamilton and lots of others.  But here’s the thing.  We have to support our authors.  The publishing business is hard.  And they create these amazing worlds and characters we all.love.   And for them the creation process is amazingly complex with first drafts and then edit after edit.  Some people get really nasty about these amazing works of creation.  And I understand that, too.  I love the main characters in my books.  They are like friends who I visit with every time I read the book.   And I hate some of the things that happen.  In a way even the violently negative feedback is a compliment to the author.  But why should they keep spending 6-8 hours a day writing for us if we just bitch about it.  Why do the work of edit after edit?  

I am making a stand.  Laurell K Hamilton won’t publish when her next book will be out or which series it will be.  Why should she? Her fans will wail and whimper.  If she just publishes it and tells us after the last draft is finalized, she gets to bypass all the people mad when she misses a date!  And poor Karen Chance, who keeps trying to put out book 8-but the book is too long for paperback.  And then there’s the other stuff she writes.  Freebie’s that are hard work for her but taken as though they are due to the readers.  Ever since Karen published Book 7, with delays, she has been working hard to give us a good book 8.  And what do the readers do? Some of us go back and reread.  Look for all the nuances we keep missing in the race to find out what happened.  And then another group gets vocal-and trashes Karen Chance for missing publicized release dates.  Rather than doing that, I’m doing the opposite.

I am going to support my favorite authors.  I don’t care how long I have to wait for the next installment.  I’m going to send them messages, asking questions about the books I have.  I’m going to reread, and laugh and cry and scream and yell.  I’m going to write new reviews, new FAQs, new posts.  I’m going to do whatever the hell I can to make sure I get to know how the stories end.  I will write petitions.  I will beg,  plead and cajole.  I will help the next Kit Colbana book be made by sending money on Patreon.  And I will appreciate the freebies, the alternate POV, the deleted scenes.  I am doubly supportive of the authors I love who have prepublished schedules and put out surprise books too! I love Jenna Black and Lauren Dane and Seanan Mcguire and Kelley Armstrong and Christine Feehan.  But I will keep on supporting everyone…

[Top]

friendlytroll:

incurablenecromantic:

Sometimes people like to write things about florist’s shops.  Here are two things you need to know, the most egregiously wrong things.

1. It makes no fucking sense to sketch out a bouquet before you make it.  Every individual flower is different in a way that cannot really be adjusted the way other building materials can be adjusted, and each individual bouquet is unique.  Just put the fucking flowers together.

2. No one — in months and months of working at the flower shop — has ever cared what the flower/color of the flower means.  No one’s ever asked.  It’s just not something people tend to care about outside of fiction and it’s certainly not something most florists know.  You know what florists know?  What looks good and is thematically appropriate.

Here’s an actual list of the symbology of flowers, as professionals use it:

Yellow – for friends, hospitals
Pink – girls, girlfriends, babies, bridesmaids
Red – love
Purple – queens
White – marriage and death (DO NOT SEND TO HOSPITALS)
Pink and purple – ur mum
Red, orange, and yellow – ur mum if she’s stylish
Red, yellow, blue – dudes and small children
Blue and white – rare, probably a wedding
Red and white – love for fancy bitches

Here are what the flowers actually mean to a florist:

The Fill It Out flowers:

Carnations – fuck u these are meaningless filler-flowers, not even your administrative assistant likes them, show some creativity
Alstroemeria – by and large very similar to carnations but I like them better
Tea roses – cute and lil and come several to a stalk, a classy filler flower
Moluccella laevis – filler flower but CHOICE
Delphinium – not as interesting as moluccella but purple so okay I guess
Blue thistle – FUCK YEAH, some fucking textural variety at last!  you’re getting this for a dude, aren’t you?
Chrysanthemums – barely better than carnations but better is still better
Gladiolus – ooh, risky business, someone understands the use of the Y-axis, very good

Focal points:

Long-stem roses – yeah whatever
Lilies – LBD, looks good with everything, get used as often as possible
Hydrangeas – thirsty fuckers, divas of the flower world and rightly so, treat them right and they make you look good
Gerbera daisies – the rose’s hippie cousin, hotter but no one admits it
Peonies – CHA-CHING, everybody’s absolute favorite but you need guap
Orchids – if this isn’t for a wedding you’re probably trying too hard but they’re expensive so keep ordering them

You know what matters?  THE CUSTOMER’S BUDGET.  THAT’S TELLING.

-$20 – if you’re not under 12, fuck off, get your sugar something else
$30 – good for bouquets but an arrangement will be lame
$40 – getting there, there’s something that can be done with that.  you can get some gerbs or roses with that and not have them look stupidly solo.
$50 to $70 – tolerable
$80 – FINALLY.  It sounds elitist but this really is the basic amount of money you should expect to spend on an arrangement that matters.  That’s your Mother’s Day arrangement.  You’re probably not going to spend $80 on a bouquet.
$90 to $130 – THE GOOD SHIT, you’re likely to get some orchids
$130+  – Weddings and death.  This amount of money gets you a memorial arrangement or a handmade bridal bouquet.  Don’t spend this on a Mother’s Day or a Babe I Love You arrangement, buy whosits a massage or something.

Miscellaneous:

  • Everything needs greening and if you don’t think that you’re an idiot. 
  • As a new employee, when you start making arrangements, you can’t see the mistakes you’re making because you’re brand new and you’re learning an art form from the ground up.
  • With a few exceptions customers don’t have a clear plan in mind.  They want you to develop the bouquet for them.  They want something that will delight their little sweetbread but you’re lucky if they know that person’s favorite color, let alone flower.
  • Flower shops don’t typically have every kind of flower in every kind of color.  Customers generally aren’t assed about that.  Most people don’t care about the precise shade of the rose or having daffodils in July, because they’re not boning up on flower language before they buy.  That would imply that they’ve got a clear bouquet in mind and, again, they don’t.
  • Being a florist is essentially a lot like what I imagine being a mortician is about.  You’re basically keeping dead things looking good for as long as possible.  You keep the product in the fridge so it doesn’t rot and look horrible by the time the family gets a whack at it, and in the meanwhile you put it in a nice container.

Anyway that’s flowers.

this is magnificent and I love hearing about ppl job feilds

[Top]

Wrath did the duty at the security camera, finding the lens with his hand and then putting his face in its camera. “You’re a lucky motherfucker, for sure.” Fritz opened things wide, and the light from the glorious foyer was enough to leave V blinking as his retinas adjusted. “My Lord!” the doggen exclaimed. “Sire! Oh, it is good that you have arrived home before the storm! May I get you a libation?” Fritz’s smile was like that of a basset hound’s, all wrinkles and enthusiasm, and the butler had a dog’s lack of time conception, his joy as if the pair of them had been gone for five years, not an hour. “How ’bout a couple of bulletproof vests,” V said under his breath. “But of course! Would you care for the Point Blank Alpha Elites, or is this more of a bomb-detonation occasion requiring the Paraclete tactical vests?” As if the choice were nothing more than having to pick white tie and tails over your standard-issue tuxedo. You had to love the guy, V thought grudgingly. “It was a joke, my man.” Vishous put a hand-rolled between his lips and talked around it as he got out his lighter. “At least I hope it was.” “Anything for you both! Oh, and my Lord, I took the liberty of allowing George I warmed it up and served it with fresh whole carrots, pumpkin mash, and green beans. Everything was organic, of course.” “You love that dog, don’t you.” The doggen bowed so low it was a wonder his bushy gray eyebrows didn’t Swiffer the mosaic floor. “I do. Oh, I do.” “Good male, you’re a good male.” Wrath seemed like he wanted to clap the butler on the shoulder, or maybe offer his palm for a high five, but he didn’t follow through. Even though he was King, there were some things you didn’t do, and that was make contact with an old-school servant like Fritz. The poor guy was liable to mushroom cloud out of embarrassment. Instead, Wrath strode forward like he owned the place, and V fell in line.

JR Ward, The Chosen,
[Top]