Tag: love

“See…we’ve all been wounded.” Goddess, what an understatement. “We’ve all been violated. Me, Adrian, Cory, Renny—hell, even Nicky, and now you. It’s what happens when you’re given great gifts—wonderful, amazing, beautiful gifts. Great buggering git asshole fuckheads always want to steal those gifts for themselves. Being wounded means you held on, that’s all. Being wounded means you can heal. If we live long enough with these gifts, and we’re not wounded, it means we’re probably like Mist and Morana and Sezan and Goshawk and hell, even Titania and Oberon, although I didn’t know either of them more than to give them the best fuck available at court, right? If we’re not capable of being hurt, then we’re not good enough people to deserve the Goddess’s gifts in the first place. If you don’t know that you have something to lose, then maybe you deserve to lose it, and Blessed Father, Holy Mother, Beloved Son, all of us know what we have to lose, because we’ve all lost it at one time or another and none of us wants to feel that pain again…” And then he couldn’t speak anymore, because Bracken, who didn’t want to be touched, had pulled Green into his arms, and every vow Green had made not to weep anymore for his lost freedom and violated faith fell at his feet with his brother’s tears. Both of them held there, still, clenched together so tightly their muscles ached. And they held, and held, and held, until they could breathe freely and look clearly and know that neither of them would be weeping soon again. With an unspoken word, they both pulled back and resumed their human male posture on the couch, the screen.

Wounded. Amy Lane

Experiencing a dilemma

cookie0021:

I’ve never faced before. Frankly I’m tired of love triangles. Mostly because there’s an obvious choice of who the main character’s gonna choose; mostly the reason there’s even a hint of competition is because the girl doesn’t want to hurt the non-chosen guy:

Jace or Simon—duh, Jace wins

Edward or Jacob–duh, Edward wins

Dimitri or Adrian–duh, Dimitri wins

Adam or Samuel–duh, Adam wins

Peeta or Gale–duh, Peeta wins

Barrons or V’laine–duh, Barrons wins

Bones or Tate–duh, Bones wins

Vlad or Maximus–duh, Vlad wins

And countless other I can’t even remember right now. Granted The Infernal Devices took a novel approach and has the main character get to be with both the men she loved (even though it was obvious she really really loved Will–and if forced to choose I think she would have chosen him in the end, but she got both)

My problem is: the Cassandra Palmer series.

One the one hand there’s Mircea who I admitted wasn’t in love with to begin with, but now…after everything I’ve read (including the Dorina Basarab series) I like him. I want him to be happy. I want him to be Cassie because he wants to be with her and she wants to be with him. I like him. Although I’m not too happy about where we were left with him in Tempt the Stars. I hope he’s not going to just abandon her. That doesn’t seem like the kind of man he is.

On the other hand, there’s Pritkin who I’ve kinda adored since book two, Claimed by Shadows. And my adoration for him has only gotten worse as the series has progressed. I absolutely love him. And I do think he’s gonna be the endgame. But I’m not sure.

And I’m torn.

Therein lies the problem.

I’ve never liked both of the guys for a single girl in a series. I may like a guy like say for instance Simon, but I never liked him for Clary. For Izzy, he’ll yeah, but never for Clary.

I want both Mircea and Pritkin for Cassie and I don’t know what to think.

Aaaggghh.

SO, I keep rereading this post.  And I get the overall point, even those of us that “like” both the men in Cassie’s life equally have favorites.  Sometimes, those favorites change from scene to scene but we have favorites.  So, who do we root for?   How do we want it to end…Well, I’m just gonna root for Cassie and however messily it ends up, as long as she’s happy I’ll be good…

But for the list at the beginning, I gotta say something.  I am very happy for this writer that all choices seem crystal clear.  For the rest of us, sometimes we don’t know who we are going to pick until after it has happened.    Or, if you are me, it sometimes was one person on one read but the next time its someone else…

So, maybe, its mutable.  Maybe, for some like Cat and Bones I didn’t even remember there was someone else.  But for each one of those, I have  an Anita Blake, or a Merry or a Corinne Carol-Anne Kirkpatrick.   And there are messy crazy solutions.  

And I don’t see Cassie going the way of the many loved.  At least I don’t think so.  But I’ll just keep reminding myself that I’m rooting for Cassie…and being mutable

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Some Thoughts on Cassie

So, I got two of my friends who read the same kind of stuff that I do to start the Karen Chance books.  And they, of course love them…But, they are working their way slowly though them.  They have almost caught up to the reread. They obviously don’t compulsively read like I do.  I swear to g-d text to speech was an evil invention.  I used to have to put the book down to do things like brush my teeth, wash my hair, or cook.  Now, I have headphones or a stupid bluetooth speaker.  Although it does allow my children to get more regular meals that DO NOT revolve around Laurell K Hamilton or Karen Chance’s publishing schedule…

So, I keep getting these hysterical texts as things happen in the Cassie Palmer world.  From random questions to OMG.  And of late, I’ve been getting a lot of the OMG variety.  They have gotten to the geis and the trip to Fairie.  And then to the final duel with Dracula.  And I found myself laughing last night at the following text:

OMG Bram Stoker was a Human Servant! WTF! Then, awww so the incubus waited all that time for Dracula? How sweet

My response to the last was Have you ever read Dracula? OK, not sure where I was going with all that…Just chalk it up to my random tangent

But back to my original message, or at least thought.  Cassie is not a victim. Sometimes, we forget that she ran away at 14 and returned, of her own volition, to make Tony pay.  And then lived in a house with Vampires while she worked tirelessly to destroy what Tony loved most: his money.  And hid it.  And then ran with government protection.  She survived the death of her governess.  and then ran successfully for three years.  I gotta say, she’s got some chops.  That’s at the beginning.

She’s got a voice and she learns to use it.  Everyone wants control of her, but somehow, she ends up with a family that includes everyone from the crazy incubus Cassanova to Marco to Pritkin to, yes, Mircea!  She takes the guards who come to her and makes them HERS.  Cassie is never going to be Agnes.  Agnes was raised in the system and a part of it.  And her life was compartmentalized, even though she fell in love with her body guard, Jonas.  and oh what a love that must have been-  Ley line racing and trips though time.  But when we see Agnes in other times, she’s alone.  And a secret pregnancy to boot!  Cassie knows how to hide.  She knows how to run.  She knows how to win. 

Yes, she sometimes gets buffeted by the strong winds of the personalities around her.  And remember, we are in her head.  And sometimes we get her insecurities bleeding through.  But no matter what comes, she copes as best she can.  And that’s better than 99% of the population!  She learns, she quietly assimilates.  She fucking conquers!  Her life is messy.  I can’t see her making her life fit in boxes.  I can’t see her without Mircea’s family, which is becoming hers.  I have this image in my head of some of the mansions in Vegas.  The really awesome ones that have every possible luxury and themed bedrooms.  Almost like an MTV tricked out house for Real World.  But I can’t see Cassie, Tami and the kids from the schools living quietly in the suburbs with a mixed security force of vamps and mages.  I don’t know where I see her, but…

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Repost of Ride the Storm review

By Clare Kidwell-Arnese 

Ride the Storm Book Review: I received an ARC (advanced readers copy) from Karen Chance in exchange for writing a spoiler free review and that’s going to be difficult let me tell you because this book is 608 pages of non-stop action, plot twists and fantastic dialog! When this book comes out on August 1st don’t buy one copy, BUY TWO; you’ll need them because this book is so good you wont be able to put it down even for a minute! Your children will run amok, you’ll burn dinner two nights in a row, the dog will stare forlornly at you from next to his leash and your husband will wonder if you’ve finally lost your mind because you will bump into walls walking with the book in front of your face; you’ll trip over shoes and toys and forget to eat because you cant stop! You have to find out what happens on the next page!! And that second copy? you need it for when you inevitably take the book to the bath tub after the children are in bed and you drop the first one because NO! THAT DID NOT JUST HAPPEN!! 😀 Karen Chance is a Master wordsmith and proves it once again with book 8 in the Cassandra Palmer series. Her writing just gets better and better. If there were a Senate of Authors, Chance would be the Consul. Her words are that powerful; the action scenes so intense you’ll find yourself leaping up from the couch or pacing frantically around the room as you devour them because you can feel them right down to your bones. You just know if you don’t move, leap right along with them, do SOMETHING they might not make it! Like one of Cassie’s visions you are sucked in and jerked along for a 600 page tornado ride that sucks everything from the first 8 books up in its maw and spins them wildly, throwing everything you thought you knew in a whole new light and nothing will ever be the same, and you’ll love every minute of it!!!! The only thing I can say is Bring on Book 9!!!! After riding this Storm I can’t wait for MORE!!!!!

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Review

pcstillz:

Posted on goodreads bc Amazon would not let me for some fucking reason. So, *ahem*….

Bought ARC through Read the Pixels event.

Absolutely great book. Let’s start there. This is the second half of the previous book that, due to length, the publisher forced Ms. Chance to break in 2. Ride the Storm is over 600 pages, not a quick read. Whereas the last book set up everything with only a few bits of plot resolved, this book went forward in leaps and bounds. It was fast paced and detailed. There is betrayal and heartbreak, revelations about her parents and others in her life. We meet new characters that may forever change the dynamics Cassie has with the Circle and Jonas. New allies are picked up along the way and Cassie puts in motion ways to protect her old ones from “friendly fire”. I absolutely loved this book…..BUT it does take a while to get several big story arcs concluded. There were a few times that I felt there were extra pages and details that seemed superfluous to the point while reading I had wished the author was able to combine one of two events so to trim down a hundred pages. Overall a good 4 out of 5 stars. It would have been 4.5 out of 5 but the small cliff hanger at the end (set up like the ones in the early books) was annoying especially since it relates to one of the main story arcs that had only partially resolved. The ambiguity made me want to grind my teeth.

I highly recommend this book to read especially if you were upset about the lack of resolution in the previous book.

***Mild spoiler below****

This book will nearly resolve the love triangle. I say nearly because the small cliff hanger at the end implies complications that may hinder her choice. It may not be what you expect or what you hoped for.

Ok, so this is helpful…of course for those of us who have been waiting a long time, we kinda knew most of that.  Given that Karen has been diligently plugging away at the publisher for a long time…I would have been shocked if it was LESS than 600 pages.  And given that Karen isn’t sure of publishing another one…well the cliff hanger is gonna suck!  No, honestly…

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I can’t stay silent…Please read!

For me, the Holocaust is a real emotional thing.  I had no grandparents growing up, but we spent lots of time in our apartments in Miami in a Jewish enclave, I guess.  It was a gated community on North Miami Beach with three towers, a little convenience store, a restaurant and pool, and Dock slips for boats.  And so my babysitters were retired Jewish retirees, most of whom were holocaust survivors.  I was 2 or 3, the first time I heard of the Holocaust.  I was spending the night with the Fusses, whom I called Grandma and Grandpa Fuss.  I had taken a number and written numbers on my arm, to be like them.  I didn’t understand why it horrified these two Holocaust survivors.  I still remember the tears pouring down Grandma Fusses face as she scrubbed my arm with a sponge from the kitchen.  Eventually, I learned their story.  Two people who were the only survivors of their families who found love after the camps.  I heard about their parents and siblings who died in the camps.  I remember that one of their sisters was a ballerina.  She was a teenager when she went into the camps and she ade it through the initial separation because  a guard thought she was beautiful. As an adult, I know what that meant but as a child I remember thinking it was so beautiful  that she gave the food to her sister. He would take her to his office and have her dance for him.  She would come back with extra food for grandma Fuss and cry herself to sleep.  She never made it out of the camps.  And though it hurt, Grandma Fuss to tell me that story, she did it in whispers and with tears.  She told me it was my job to remember her sister, the ballerina, always and forever a teenager.  
I was in 1st grade before I thought of it again, in a meaningful way.  I went to school in our temples basement in Dunwoody, Georgia.  and one Monday we didn’t have school.  Over the weekend someone had broken in and defaced desks, couches and chalkboards with swastikas.  I saw that symbol and remembered Grandma Fusses tears.  And I knew that it was evil and I was hated.  I never understood what those teenagers were thinking as they painted a symbol of hate or scratched it into surfaces.
I am shocked and horrified at the news today that Hitler never gassed his own people.  I know that is not true.  I am one generation removed from the survivors.  Their children were my parents generation.  As we remember our flight from Egypt this week, so too do Jews remember the Holocaust.  Last year, Elie Wiesel , a Holocaust survivor, and Nobel Laureate author, died.  He has many quotes…too many to list about why Jews wrote down their memories for my generation and forward.  Read his Nobel speech, or even just the quotes that come up on google.  We remember the generation lost.  All 6,000,000 of them.  Men and women, Mothers and Fathers, Children and Artists, Brothers and Sisters.  
But I want to be real here.  These are the approximate numbers:
Number of Deaths
Jews: up to 6 million
Soviet civilians: around 7 million (including 1.3 Soviet Jewish civilians, who are included in the 6 million figure for Jews)
Soviet prisoners of war: around 3 million (including about 50,000 Jewish soldiers)
Non-Jewish Polish civilians: around 1.8 million (including between 50,000 and 100,000 members of the Polish elites)
Serb civilians (on the territory of Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina): 312,000
People with disabilities living in institutions: up to 250,000
Roma (Gypsies): 196,000–220,000
Jehovah’s Witnesses: Around 1,900
Repeat criminal offenders and so-called asocials: at least 70,000
German political opponents and resistance activists in Axis-occupied territory: undetermined
Homosexuals: hundreds, possibly thousands (possibly also counted in part under the 70,000 repeat criminal offenders and so-called asocials noted above)
But, Hitler never used chemical weapons on his own people
https://www.quora.com/Why-should-we-never-forget-the-Holocaust

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slightlybitchyclairvoyant:

John Pritkin Appreciation Week – Favorite Relationship

Cassandra Palmer x John Pritkin (Casskin)

Love all the graphics!

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pritkinsprettydick:

Mircea Basarab + Aesthetic

OOOH I love all these keep them coming 🙂

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slightlybitchyclairvoyant:

John Pritkin Appreciation Week – Favorite Book

Hunt the Moon

“It’s ‘I Love Rock ’n Roll.’ It’s a classic.” 

That got me a dark glance thrown over his shoulder, but he didn’t say anything. He just dug a couple of quarters out of his jeans and made a selection of his own. And oh, my God. 

“Johnny Cash?”

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“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
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