#Eoin whines

[bepoprotectionsquad]

Yooooo the meds I take for my cramps/migraines makes me shake and want to cry

#anxiety #Eoin whines

[eoinmcgonigal]

hi!!! for the kissing prompt post: eoin/paddy + standing on your tip-toes, frustrated that you can't reach your lover's lips

Hihi!! Thank you for the prompt!! I hope this amuses (it was fun thinking about it XD)

-

“Eoin,” Paddy whines, and it only makes Eoin chuckles as Paddy tries to use all his weight to pull him down, hanging off of his lapels.

Paddy, even going up on his tip-toes in an attempt to get what he wants, is far less amused. “The fuck is wrong with you?” he demands. The denial is starting to sting. All he wants is a kiss, but all Eoin seems to want to do is have a laugh at his expense.

“Enjoying myself,” Eoin beams.

“Well”—Paddy tugs at Eoin again, finding it all incredibly unfair now—“I’m fucking not. Give me kiss, you wee shite.”

Ignoring the fact that, of the two of them, Paddy is the wee-est, Eoin chuckles at the demand. “You haven’t said please,” he teases.

Not giving in, Paddy glowers up at him. “I’m not saying ‘please’, you—Mph!”

He’s silenced by a kiss, startled by the almost bruising abruptness of it that rankles, before softening with a chuckle and locking his arms around Eoin’s neck. The utter bastard and his oh-so-clever games. Paddy’s going to get him back for that.

Later, though. Right now, he has more important things to be doing, and they deserve his whole, undivided attention.

Kissing prompts

#sas rogue heroes #paddy mayne #eoin mcgonigal #paddy x eoin #kissing prompts #document type: diary entry #eoin is an utter bastard #he has way too much fun #never so much fun that paddy won't forgive him though

[dukesoakedoats]

He’s (not) made of sugar-2

Info: Part 1 : https://at.tumblr.com/dukesoakedoats/hes-not-made-of-sugar-1/19m17jybff0c . The urge to drop this fic and just leave it to rot is really winning right now mates.

Eoin had wasted no time to running to the patrol group and the others, potentially tripping into the sand on his way there. On his arrival he felt his beating heart get ripped out from his chest and crushed into oblivion. All the shouts and clamouring from his fellow comrades had dwindled down to a background white noise. How could he focus on anything else when Paddy was on Jocks back being carried like a small child. Body limp as a rag doll and paler than the moon. The most noticeable feature of Paddy was how his head lolled  and his eyes rolled back, as if he was possessed by the devil himself.

Eoin was not afraid of war, of death, of loss but one thing he was scared of was losing Paddy and only being able to watch and standby, now that, that drove a stake thorough Eoins heart.

“Give.him.to.me” Eoin mumbled at Jock , advancing towards the blonde much to the dismay of Stirling or the rest of the crew.

“Eoin, he’s hurt , I should carry him” Shame, all Jock wanted to do was help his comrades,and yet all he did was cause a prickling feeling under the Belfast boys skin. People always made decisions for Paddy, treating him like scum, disregarding him , that’s why Paddy was the way he was , a hurt and wild animal who’s only goal was to be back at home. And god , Eoin needed that animal home. He needed Paddy, he knew him best, better then Jock, it should be him protecting Paddy, it will only be him.

Eoin advances further to Jock

“GIVE HIM TO ME!” He bellows, and the whole camp went silent. Eoin was the camps writer, the young boy, the kind and sweet boy, violent outbursts were for Paddy not Eoin. Not Eoin.

Jock knew it was pointless trying to fight and so with gritted teeth managed to cough up a begrudging “fine” before removing Paddy from his shoulders and transferring him onto Eoins arms who was insistent on carrying him bridal style. Upon being placed into Eoins arms Paddy let out a high whimpered squeal with his facial expressions mirroring his emotions. Eoin felt guilty , of course he did, but he knew what was best, no one else did. 

He started to walk back to his and his loves tent, leaving behind a mob of people gawking behind him as he walked wondering what had just occurred in a matter of a few mere minutes. 

Eoin entered his tent knowing full well soon  Stirling would come in demanding an explanation but now wasn’t the time for that, now was the time to direct all his focus and care onto the weak bundle of joy nestled into his chest.

“Paddy.” Eoin whispered quietly to his lovebird “imma have to put ya down okay?”

No response. 

The only way Eoin could know that his love was alive was due to the faint wheezes he would make occasionally, no doubt for air and while Paddy would claim it to be an annoyin god forsaken sound, Eoin for once was relived he was met with the sound of wheezes rather than the sounds of nothing. Eoin gingerly placed Paddy down on the bed earning him the pleasure of hearing those whimpers once again, Paddy’s lip scrunched up to a trembling line and his eyes that were now wide open were brimming with tears. Whatever was wrong with Paddy it had made him mute, even when Eoin was adorning him with kisses and praise while Paddy was silent , was it due to an injury or just pure exhaustion. Eoin did not know but prayed for it to be the latter , that can be fixed , injuries here, cannot.

“Paddy…please love come on now help me get ya on the bed..please” the last begging that could be wrangled out of Eoins throat miraculously stirred Paddy’s consciousness as the man let out a whine before moving his body up to the top of the bed so he had some support. Eoin let go off his prize and carefully placed the poor excuse of a blanket over the madman’s body. Paddy looked so fragile, his veins were visible under his stretched skin , his eyes had sunken in on himself and his hair was wild, but not in the wild that Eoin could always seek comfort in, no this was not that.The body in front of Eoin was not one that belonged to his lover , it was just a vessel, a cocoon of Paddy’s vibrant soul , his laughter , his mind. Now all that say in front was empty. It was still his Paddy, His to look after and only his. Eoins fingers twitched they yearned to brush and cradle Paddy’s cheek. Soon enough that’s what they did with the sicker man subconsciously leaning into the touch. It went on for around 10 minutes before Eoin decided he also needed some rest. His eyes made a beeline for the chair Paddy had nicked from a hotel they were staying at a couple of moons ago, god paddy was a romantic wasnt  he? So that’s where Eoin slept , close to paddy to know he was there and yet distant to allow  the Protestant to breath. 

The world became dark 

Darkness had started to creep into the corners of Eoins eyes.

Sleep was a cruel mistress , beckoning him into her domain and Eoin obliged.

He fucking wish he hadn’t.

He’s back home.

In Ireland.

He’s back home , is the war over?

No it can’t be? Or can it?

Where’s Paddy? 

Where is Paddy Mayne, the pair had both sworn an oath to each other how after the war they’ll buy a cottage just for the two of them, them against the world forever. So where was his other part 

And why was he wearing black and crutching a rosemary?!

Oh

Why was he clutching a rosemary, why was he reciting prayers that he had made to remember off by heart by the priest when he was a wee little lad.Black.

You only wear that to a funeral , who’s fucking funeral was this?

Where’s Paddy?!

He hears the church bells ringing but he pays no mind to then.

Where is Paddy Mayne?

Where is Paddy?!

WHERE WAS HE!!!!

-Gasp- Eoin was awake , it was all a bad dream , he really did look pathetic gasping for air as if he hadn’t had lungs for all his life.

It was just a bad dream , a work of fiction.

Through Eoins state of panic it could be forgiven that he had failed to notice Paddy’s eyes fixated on the lanky man and interested on his irregular shaky breaths.

#wtf is happening #wtf am i doing #sas rogue heroes #paddy mayne #eoin mcgonigal #eoin x paddy #paddy x eoin #paddon #my writing #my fic #fanfic writer #Eoin being a bit possessive here #don’t recall that happening in the show #Yet again I have a shit memory #Paddy had the plague omg imagine #like wtf is his Illness? #angry man syndrome?

[butternuggets-blog]

Day 5 - Home Is You (Eoin/Paddy)

SAS Kink Heroes; MA18+, Knotting

Eoin sighed as Paddy spotted him and ducked back out of the tent. He had tried to give him the space he needed after The Incident, but five weeks with no words between them and no indication that Paddy was going to be able to look him in the eye any time soon had started to get him extremely frustrated.

He just wanted his boyfriend back.

Eoin marched out of the mess hall, following Paddy as he loped across camp. He disappeared into his new tent and Eoin followed, tying the flap down quickly with practised ease. Paddy was coiled tight as a spring, staring sightlessly at his shoes.

Eoin hovered over him, hands limp at his sides.

'You hurt me. You gave me three massive scars down the side of my face, and you turned me into a werewolf like you and Mike, but I've forgiven you all that and I'd like it if you could try and forgive yourself too.'

Paddy said nothing. Eoin knelt down in front of him, gently, so as not to startle him.

'I miss you. I want to come home.'

Paddy's eyes flicked up to meet his, shame and anger and love warring one another. He didn't flinch when Eoin slipped his hands into his.

'Please let me come home.'

'...kiss me' Paddy muttered thickly.

Eoin eased up onto his knees, cradling Paddy's face as he pressed a delicate kiss to Paddy's lips. He felt him shudder; Paddy gripped his shoulder then his neck, eyes closed, breathing shallow.

Paddy let Eoin straddle his lap and push him back onto the bed. He opened his mouth a little wider and Eoin slipped in his tongue; they moaned and Eoin deepened the kiss, Paddy slipping both hands underneath his shirt and raking his fingers down Eoin's back.

'Take off your clothes' Eoin whispered.

Paddy pulled his pants down as Eoin wriggled out of his. Eoin lubed his fingers until they were slick and slowly stroked them back and forth across Paddy's entrance.

Paddy moaned and closed his eyes, unconciously spreading his legs further apart.

Eoin kissed him deeply as he breached him with a finger, sinking knuckle-deep and rubbing Paddy's walls.

'O-oh! Yes!' Paddy bucked against the intrusion, whining when Eoin added another digit. 'Come on, I'm not f-..I'm ready, promise'

Eoin ignored him, dragging kisses down his neck and pumping his hand, pushing a third finger inside him. Paddy pushed back, rocking his hips, needy whining reaching a higher pitch.

After five minutes of working him open, Eoin propped Paddy up with a pillow under his back as he pulled his hand away, slicked himself up and slowly, slowly, entered Paddy.

'Yess!' Paddy groaned and grabbed Eoin's hips, forcing him forward. Eoin yanked his hands away and started thrusting, pinning Paddy's wrists to the bed and sucking kisses along his collarbone and down the front of his chest.

They rocked against each other, trying not to make the camp bed creak. Paddy wrapped his legs around Eoin's waist, squeezing him with his thighs.

'How- AH!- fuck- how are you doing that?!' Paddy arched off the bed. There was a pressure in him, massaging every inch and making it feel like Eoin's cock was growing.

'Something's happening!' Eoin stuttered.

Paddy pulled himself out of Eoin's grip, raised himself onto his elbows and almost swooned. The base of Eoin's cock was growing rapidly right in front of his eyes. In fact, it was getting so big that he was having trouble pulling it in and out of Paddy.

'Tighearna milis thuas..' Paddy pulled Eoin flush against him with his legs as he struggled upright into his lap. Eoin's eyes fluttered closed and he raked his fingernails down Paddy's back as there was an obscene squelching sound and he was stuck inside his boyfriend.

'Can't stop- ó Íosa - can't-'

Eoin was whimpering and whining, rutting almost mindlessly in short, sharp bursts. Paddy clung to him, shaking violently as every thrust of Eoin's cock hit the bundle of nerves inside him that made him want to scream.

'Ag teacht!' Paddy squealed, then he arched his back again and painted Eoin's chest in a splattering arc as Eoin snapped his hips against him and came.

They fell over onto the bed breathing heavily. Paddy passed out as soon as his head hit the canvas, and when he woke up again Eoin was asleep on his chest and still buried inside him.

Paddy tried to squirm away from him so he could get a cloth to dry both of them, but when he tried to wriggle off Eoin he found he was stuck.

'Hmmhmf..' Eoin raised his head, blinking sleepily. He looked absolutely wrecked; his hair was plastered to his forehead and he could barely open his eyes.

'Um, Eoin..I can't get you out of me' Paddy hissed.

Paddy and Eoin froze at the sound of approaching footsteps, and Mike's familiar scent carried into the tent. They knew that he knew what they had been up to, there was not way he wouldn't, but pretending not to be present seemed like the less embarrasing option.

There was a pause. They heard Mike sigh.

'It's perfectly normal. It's called knotting; give it half an hour or so to deflate or you'll tear something. Good night.'

If it was possible for Eoin to die of embarrassment, he would. As for Paddy, he was content to hold his mate while Eoin buried his bright red face into the crook of his neck.

#sas kink heroes #paddy/eoin #paddy mayne #eoin mcgonigal #mike sadler

[fowlmanorisafairyring]

Artemis is secretly jealous of Trouble because he can, you know, say that trouble is his first name and Arty is dramatic little theatre boy.

#arty whining to butler drunk on a juice box: And I could have done it too. But then i felt it's too on the nose and now its gooonnnneeeee. #its a really expensive juice box #artemis fowl #domovoi butler #eoin colfer #fowlmanorisafairyring

[ryssbelle]

Y'all know what I'm doing till the release of the Artemis Fowl movie

#artemis fowl #eoin colfer #artemis fowl movie #im marathoning the books lmao #theyre a little run down tho #i was kind if a reckless kid so they would always be crumpled in my back pack #and then id whine that they were crumpled in my back pack #after the first book getting so messed up i tried my best to protect all of them #as you can see from 2 5 and 6 #i didnt do as well as i hoped #but theyre still readable #and that all that matters

[sodamnbored]

Burning Maze Spoilers and everything before that!

Also, I’ve read ToA but not ToN yet so I don’t know what happens so if I get something wrong, you know - oops.

Alright so Burning Maze was terrible and we all know what specifically about it was terrible. Wish it didn’t happen, but it’s published and it did. So what we need now is a quest to get our boy back from the Underworld.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this, and it would definitely happen in a much more serious way if it happened, but for now I’m just here for chaos and fun times.

So first off, what do they have to do? So many options. Could just be if they do Hades a favour, he’ll do them a favour and give Jason back, so maybe they just have to go find something he lost (like The Helm of Darkness or something), or go track down a rogue hellbound or if Cerberus got loose or something like that. Or maybe it’s like a scavenger hunt for ingredients for some ritual or something so Jason gets a body, mix him up a new one power puff girls style. Maybe Hades is miffed about making a deal with them so he gives them a whole list of things to go do for him before he’ll consider it, like Hercules’ trials.

Now really probably anyone could go on the quest to do any of this stuff. Personally, I’ve thought about this in a more serious version and in that I’ve got logical explanations why the best people to go would be Nico and Leo, so I’m just gonna stick with that for this, but there may be arguments for other people. Plus, who doesn’t want a Valdangelo bromantic roadtrip?

A quest usually has three people, and if someone else goes in a more serious version that’s fine - but I would hugely enjoy if Jason got to go along as a ghost. Has anybody read The Wish List by Eoin Colfer? That kind of thing - a Casper The Friendly Ghost type deal.

Jason, Nico and Leo sound like a very fun trio for a quest. Nico and Leo seemed on better terms when Leo came back to camp in ToA, so building on that, they’ll totally bond on the quest. But they’ll probably still keep that kind of bitchy dynamic. You know, where they act like it’s a hassle to be around each other but secretly they’re besties.

And Jason coming along as a ghost would give way to all the typical ghostly shenanigans. Maybe he’s only solid sometimes, maybe he relies on Nico to funnel some power into him if he wants to pick anything up. If Nico summons any other spirit for help or skeleton warriors in a fight, Jason gets so petty about it afterwards. Like “the other woman” gags, but the other spirit instead. Is Jason not good enough to protect them from monsters? Is he not ghostly enough for Nico��s liking??

They keep forgetting he’s not always solid and tossing him a backpack to carry for a bit. He even forgets and holds out his arms to catch it but it goes right through him, maybe even out a window or something and Leo facepalms, Nico rolls his eyes at Leo and Jason for forgetting, and Jason just throws his arms up done with everything. They definitely call him Casper at some points and Jason either hates it, or pretends to hate it. “Oh nice catch Casper,” and Jason just looks at the camera like he’s on the office.

Maybe when he’s solid enough, mortals can see him too with the mist but they think he’s sick or something because he’s so pale they can almost see right through him. “So are you anaemic or something? My cousin’s anaemic you know.”

But maybe if it’s too bright outside or Nico isn’t putting enough into it, the mist goes the other way and mortals don’t see him at all. Giving Leo and Nico looks like they’re mad when they ask for three passes, for their friend Jason who’s right there beside them. Mortals crossing to the other side of the street to avoid those two weird kids having a conversation with the air.

Plot wise that would be reason for a typically short deadline to complete the quest by, since Hades isn’t going to let Jason just wander the mortal wold indefinitely as a spirit.

Maybe Jason will be able to float a couple inches off the ground instead of having to walk, so while Leo and Nico are complaining about a hike up a mountain on a really hot day, Jason is just floating by like “doesn’t bother me, lovely day for a stroll!” And if he wasn’t dead, they’d kill him. Nico occasionally getting annoyed and pushing power into him to make Jason more corporeal until he can’t float and has to walk like the rest of them - definitely Jason whining that he can’t believe Nico grounded him.

Maybe when they get him back properly, because they have to surely, Jason had gotten too used to being a ghost and just floating through walls and stuff and not having to watch where he’s going, so when he gets his body back it’s really cool and dramatic but then he immediately walks into a wall because he forgot people who are alive need doors. For better or worse, at least he hasn’t changed then. Still their giant blond dumbass.

He probably can’t, but I could see them at least trying to see if Jason can possess people. Jules-Albert can definitely ferry them around the country when Nico’s too tired to shadow travel or Festus is in the shop. Leo can spend the whole drive making Nico is rich jokes, how it’s the most comfortable quest he’s ever been on. “So this is how the rich quest, huh? Pretty cushy Di Angelo.” And if they ever have to camp in the woods or something Leo being snarky “Your dad never gave you a pop up holiday home? Honestly, I don’t know how you’ve survived this long.”

Had this idea at like four am so I can’t remember everything, but it made me laugh at the time. I think those three would be fun together, especially with a ghost element in the mix. I can’t come up with much but I’m sure there’s something there.

#so if anyone has any ideas. I’d love to hear them #this is the next book I want #pjo verse #pjo fandom #pjo hoo #pjo toa #jason grace #nico di angelo #leo valdez #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #heroes of olympus headcanons #heroes of olympus imagines #percy jackson and the olympians #trials of apollo headcanon #toa headcanons #hoo headcanon #hoo imagine #pjo imagine #jason grace imagine #valdangelo bromance #leo valdez imagine #pjo boys #argo ii boys #save Jason Grace #demidork road trip #demidorks #jason grace headcanon #pjo text post #pjo stuff

[flying-ryan]

I miss the stretch from your cock inside me. I miss the burn.... I miss how full I feel and the little grunt you make when you bottom out.

God, Ry. It's been too long 😔 need you

“You’ve been working too much.” 

Luca grumped against the eldest O’Riain’s wide chest, scratching his painted fingertips through the barely-there fuzz and listening to the sound of his heart beating.

“I ken, little love. I promise it’s not forever.” 

Ryan smoothed heavy hands in gentle sweeps across Luca’s shoulders and back. The pale pink lingerie he’d welcomed his husband home with laid long discarded on the floor beside their wild bed. They lay horizontally, still twisted together and wrapped in sheets, sharing secrets and breaths.

Luca was the only one Ryan talked about the Job to. The only one who knew his complicated family history and his particularly personal problems with responsibility. But Luca also knew better than anyone how much Eoin O’Riain changed things for them all. 

They nuzzled their faces together, each of them kissing whatever soft patch of stubble or skin they could find until Ryan was growling something hungry and Luca was laughing at the way his husband’s hands maneuvered their bodies so effortlessly.

Luca was still slick and open from their earlier exertions and Ryan swallowed the gasp from his lips as he pushed into his boy without needing to use his hands to line them up. “Look how pretty you are, boy. Look how well this pretty little hole takes me.”

Luca whined through long, slow strokes. Ryan glanced between the excruciating pleasure written on his face and the utterly overwhelming sight of his thick cock disappearing into his husband’s perfect body. 

When it got too overwhelming he pulled out completely, once again swallowing Luca’s squealed protests. The boy clawed at his shoulders and Ryan pinned him with a growl, kissed the tip of his nose, and then curled in on them both to suck Luca’s dick into his mouth. 

It was Luca’s turn to hiss and he begged for Ryan’s fingers even as the man’s slick mouth worked his swollen head further into a tight, warm throat. The older man’s free hand cupped the boy’s tightening balls and by the time Ryan’s nose was tickling Luca’s soft tummy, he was ready to explode.

“Fuck! Blake- Oh fuck, oh god. Oh fuck- I’m cumming, Daddy. I’m cumming for you.”

Luca knew what the D-word did to Ryan and he found himself even more determined to choose Luca’s hot seed painting his throat over the oxygen that kept them both alive. His free hand twisted, hooking two fingers inside the soft boy to hit the spot that made him see fire and thumped against it until Luca was whimpering in pain instead of pleasure before he popped off with a grin.

He slowly licked his lips. “You’re fucking delicous.” One tattooed hand drifted down his tight abs to stroke his cock. He’d barely averted his orgasm earlier, Luca was so fucking tight every fucking time, but felt ready to fill his boy now that he’d tasted his lover’s sweet release. 

“I need you, Daddy.” 

Their eyes locked, sweat and slick coated bodies between them, while they stared each other down with soft, wandering hands for a quick moment before Ry was crawling over Luca. Luca spread himself, opening like the petals on a flower and once again Ryan lined their bodies up just right to join without the aid of hands.

He filled Luca with one, long, smooth stroke and then pinned his slim hips to keep himself buried. “I wannae fucking live here, Luca. I love you so much, bonnie boy.”

[bepoprotectionsquad]

I’m having a lot harder of a time here than I thought I would. Any kind of encouragement or kindness would be great.

#Eoin whines #eoin hates hospitals #eoin dislikes doctors #eoin REALLY dislikes being forgotten about for hours and hours #I want my pain meds or my girlfriend #I want both actually #I really just wanna cry but my brain is blocking it #today I have eaten half a cheese burger #a handful of smart cheddar corn #4 oz of apple juice #and I’m working on some pudding right now #I wish I was fucking dead y’all lmao #non fandom post #eoin’s medical shit

[greatiggspectations]

It’s Kind of a Funny Story || Jigg

@moon-yeongjun​

Thing was, when Tigg told Shere that she had a place to stay, she hadn’t been being honest. Though, she’d like the record to show she didn’t exactly lie either. Outside was a place. It just wasn’t a place with a roof and walls. 

Sleeping rough in Swynlake was nothing like sleeping rough in Manchester, Liverpool, Birmingham, or any other city she found herself in before she settled in this town. It was only temporary...and it wasn’t like she was back to eating out of trash cans. 

It was only temporary too! While her Da’s creepy dad was...doing whatever he was doing. Tigg didn’t entirely understand tbh. All she understood was Shere was freaked out and believed that her being home with him was dangerous for her. She’d never seen him so freaked out -- not even when she got stabbed by Eoin was he shaking that badly -- so Tigg eventually stopped protesting and told him, “Don’t worry Da, I’ll find a place to stay.”

And she did.

Just...yeah, so what it was a bench bed and a backpack pillow?

“Hnn, noooo, five more minutes,” Tigg whined to nobody when she first woke up, just before the first bits of sunlight would peek from the clouds.

[laurelsofhighever]

The Falcon and the Rose Ch. 33 - Certainties and Uncertainties

Chapter 1 on AO3 This chapter on AO3 Masterpost here

He was late. It meant nothing, but every heartbeat that ticked by with Alistair still yet to appear pulsed a little more painfully in Rosslyn's chest. He’s late – he’s late – he’s late. She smoothed down the creases in her shirt and turned to pace across the antechamber again; the whirlwind of meetings and catchings-up that had followed her landing had left her almost no time to change from the formal attire she had worn on the beach into something fresh and more relaxed. She remembered picking out the deep blue samite with a flutter in her fingers, thinking the rich hue and the spark of gold embroidery at the hems would go well with her grey breeches and black boots, the flare of the collar modest but dipping low enough to expose the line of her throat. And now Alistair was late and she stood in a lonely hall with only the rattle of the wind for company, feeling like a fool for taking such care about her appearance. 

Cuno paid little attention to her souring mood, choosing instead to keep his nose pressed to the crack in the door so he could better sniff the hearty, savoury smells wafting through the broch from the kitchen. A puddle of drool was forming on the floor by his feet. He whined as she passed him again, a polite request for why aren’t we in the hall now, please, but she ignored him. The runner she sent to tell Alistair where to meet had left over an hour before, and had had no reason to be waylaid. She had checked with Brantis, who was busy overseeing the storage of their cargo and hadn’t seen him, but asking his whereabouts from one of the guards like some lovelorn fishwife was a step her pride would not allow her to take. Instead, she lingered out of sight of the main way into the broch, agitated, indecisive about whether to go and look for him, to stay and pace, or to march into her grandfather’s hall as if she never made the arrangement in the first place. Every time she turned in one direction, doubt crept in; the more she paced, the more her mind roved in circles. 

What if he’s already in there? it wondered traitorously. What if he never got your message and arrived with Nerlina instead of you? 

“Stop it,” she growled at herself. 

She had never thought about Alistair with other women. Whether that was due to the other demands on her time, or how slowly her regard for him had grown into something more, it hardly mattered now, when she was worrying at the idea like a loose tooth. Really, it was none of her business how he spent his time; she held no claim on him and it was all but expected for young people, especially among the nobility and especially among men, to dally and gain experience of the world before marriage tied them to a single partner. To assume Alistair was different was… too much like hope. They had been growing closer, yes, and her heart had shaken behind her ribs with how close he stood next to her on the Siren's Call only that morning, how he had leaned down, lips parted slightly as if to ask a question – but she had known flirts all her life. Men like Auldubard and Lucien, who hungered after her titles and the body they could use to claim them; Cailan, whose self-love depended on the love of others. 

As she turned and paced again, she realised that wasn’t what bothered her. Alistair didn’t care for titles, or the attention of his peers. Others admired him, some grudgingly, but besides his handsome features, he was intelligent, kind, funny, brave in battle, an endless list of traits that made any time she spent with him feel like the first bathe of sunlight after the chill of winter. He deserved so much warmth, she couldn’t blame him if he chose to take up the offer of an eager, willing body. 

She hated the idea of it. 

She hated that she hated it. She hated how her imagination twisted into dark spaces that sounded like Alistair, that smelled of him, pressed like his hands on her skin, then shut her out, cut the image to pieces with the barbs of her own abnormality, the disinterest that had never bothered her in her previous life. After all, what did desire matter when her world was horses and dogs and how to better work the swing of her blade against a target? She never expected to feel sick at the thought of Alistair touching someone who wasn’t her. 

“Enough!” she snapped, loudly enough that Cuno drew his head away from the door, wagging his tail uncertainly. “Sorry, boy,” she said. “That wasn’t meant for you.” 

He whined again, tongue lolling as he tramped towards her with the reminder that whatever heartache existed in the world, there was still food to think about. Scratching at his ears, Rosslyn sighed and cast a glance down the empty corridor, heavy with shadow between the beams of evening sun through the windows. 

“We’ll be late if we stay here much longer, won’t we?” she huffed at the dog. “Come on, then.” 

The noise of the hall swelled around her as she opened the door. Already, the broch was bursting with people, though more trickled in with every moment, crowding through the double doors at the other end of the room as newcomers recognised friends and family among the throng and went to make their greetings.  She navigated her way through with the ease of long practice, heading for the wide, curved table opposite the main door that seated the Storm Giant and his entourage.  

The broch was almost as she remembered it, a huge, circular construction under a cavernous roof built of concentric slate tiles, supported by basalt columns. Generations ago it would have been dark and smoky inside, but ventilation ducts had been added to the roof, and the Storm Giant himself had commissioned the glazed windows in the walls – they were draughty in the winter but runes for light and heat had been embedded in the lime render, long, spiralling lines forming protective spells in ancient patterns that guaranteed cheer even through the fiercest storms. At the centre, with five long tables radiating out from it like the pages of a newly opened book, a cauldron bubbled over a crackling peat fire, the embers of which hosted dozens of covered platters being kept warm for the start of the feast. 

“Your Ladyship!”  

She turned at the voice, and watched as two familiar figures battled towards her through the throng. “Wade?” 

“Your Ladyship,” the smith panted, collapsing into a dramatic bow. “I wanted to thank you. The forge here is simply sublime, and the smiths – why, there are techniques mastered here that I have only dreamed of!”  

“I’m glad to hear it,” she replied, recalling the numerous arguments about the delicacy of the man's anvil. “I suppose that means we won’t have the pleasure of your company on the return trip?” 

“Alas, as much as I am honoured to serve king and country, there is simply too much to learn here to waste time mending dents in tin plates for common soldiery.” He waved his hand dismissively. “It’s all simply too fascinating! I’m on my second notebook already, you know.” 

“Really?” 

He nodded. “I cannot express my gratitude to you for allowing me to come, Your Ladyship. You have done me such a great service – and Herren, he’s delighted too.”  

“Ecstatic,” Herren agreed, with an indulgent roll of his eyes. 

“No thanks needed,” Rosslyn allowed graciously. “I’m pleased you find the Alamarri forgers meet your expectations.” 

“Maybe not needed, but I –” 

“Wade, perhaps we should go and ask Niall to clarify the stages of that smelting technique he showed you earlier,” Herren interrupted. “I’m sure Her Ladyship has other people she needs to talk to.”  

Shaking her head as they departed, Rosslyn resumed her path towards the centre of the room, passing Isabela, already swaying, and Morrence, who was deep in conversation with Leliana, with one hand fussing over the new braids at her temple, and did not notice her. Her grandmother was directing the gathering from the raised platform that separated the curving high table from the lower benches. Minstrels would play there once the servers were finished, but for now Lileas Mac Eanraig held the floor, directing her army of underlings with the kind of poise that took a lifetime to master. 

“You’re to be seated third on the right, dear,” she said when Rosslyn bent down to kiss her on the cheek. “Did you have to bring that hound with you?” 

She shrugged. “He would have been worse fretting in my room.” 

“Your grandfather should be here soon, he’s meeting with the other clan lords about tomorrow. Don’t worry about it – or about helping, you’re our guest tonight. Go and rest yourself.” 

By the time Rosslyn ushered Cuno under the table and sat down, the broch was almost full. Alistair was still nowhere to be found, but in the lower part of the room, the crew of the Siren’s Call had already cracked open the barrel of ale Eoin had promised them, and were elbowing room next to the members of Fereldan guard, while Isabela regaled them all with an animated story that made her drink slosh over the rim of her cup. The other tables seated the entourages of the other Clayne lords who had come to hear the request from the king. Each clan sported their own colours over mismatched sets of boiled leather armour – elves, humans, and even a dwarf or two among their number – and all seemed uneasy at having to share space with others who, without a common enemy, were reluctant allies at best. But nobody did more than grumble; the punishment for drawn steel in the broch in peacetime was the loss of a hand. 

Content to take in the atmosphere and let her mind drift, Rosslyn leaned her chin on her fist, trying to ignore the rumble of her stomach and the dark, insidious thoughts that still lingered at the back of her mind. She was tired, that was all, and once the night was over and she got some decent rest, there would be no room for them. Cuno butted his head into her lap, and when her only response was to absently scrub his ears, he grumbled and pushed his cold, wet nose into the crook of her elbow. 

She recoiled and snapped her gaze down. “What?” 

He looked up at her with dark, liquid eyes, and when he was sure he had her attention, he gave the barest tilt of his head towards the dish of cold meat pastries already on the table. 

"No,” she told him sternly. “You’ll get food, just not yet. Be polite.” 

A mournful sigh puffed against her hand, followed by a tiny, hopeful nudge of his chin.  Couldn’t she see how he starved? 

She scowled at him, but more for form’s sake than anything else. The dog had perfected his begging while still a puppy, sitting under the high table during dinner in Castle Cousland. Fergus had caught her once during the Satinalia feast, sneaking dumplings sloppy with fat drops of gravy, but her father had said nothing and Cuno had only learned that if he stared long enough, she would always, eventually, yield. Cursing herself, she glanced around to make sure nobody was watching, and quickly lifted one of the pastries off the plate and into the snap of triumphant jaws, before rearranging the plate to make it look like nothing was missing. 

“But that’s your only one,” she hissed at him as he snuffled on the floor for any missed crumbs. 

A hand descended on her shoulder. “I saw that.” 

She jumped, heart thudding as Alistair settled into the chair next to her. “I’m sorry?” His voice had been barely an inch from her ear. 

“That’s one rather satisfied mabari,” he answered, shifting his gaze to Cuno, who was licking his paws clean. 

“You try saying no to that face.” She took him in, ruffled hair and flushed cheeks, his collar looser than it had been when she left him that morning. None of my business. 

He tutted, smirking, oblivious. “Brantis was adamant that it was the height of bad manners among the Clayne to take any food from the table before all the guests were seated – something about disproportionate shares?” 

“What did Brantis say about being late to parties held in your honour?” The words snapped out colder than she intended, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek when his face fell into a frown.  

“I, uh, got lost,” he said. 

“I thought Nerlina was taking care of you?” 

“She’s serving tonight, so she had to leave,” he replied slowly, wary of the caustic edge in Rosslyn’s voice but not quite sure of the reason behind it. “Poor Giles and I had to find our way here all by ourselves.” 

“Surely it’s not that far,” she replied. 

“That’s what I said! Apparently, as a prince, I should have been born with an innate sense of direction, but it started getting foggy and after we went to make sure Connor had settled in we ended up wandering halfway to Orlais before we spotted a group of people heading in this direction and decided to follow them instead.” He leaned closer. “I’m… sorry I’m late.” 

“I…” 

A shadow passed over them, interrupting. 

“Now then,” the Storm Giant boomed. “Tha’s the first I’ve heard o’ royalty apologising for their timekeeping. Most expect the world te dance to their tune and never mind the consequences.” He slapped Alistair on the shoulder as he passed and held out the other meaty hand to squeeze Rosslyn’s as the other clan lords filed behind him and took their places at the other end of the table. None of them spared a glance for the two Fereldans in their midst.  

“I hope yer rooms are to yer liking?” the Storm Giant asked. 

"Uh, this whole place is amazing,” Alistair stammered. "Not quite what I pictured.” 

"Ha! And what did ye picture?” 

“More sea monsters, I think.” He glanced to Rosslyn. “And more rain.” 

“Tch, the storms come in the winter, and the sea monsters, well, ye hope they never come at all.” The old man shook his head. “There’s a fret rolling in frae the north, mind, so ye’d best hope ye don’t get lost again, laddie. It’s a short way to the cliffs and a long drop intae the sea.” 

Somewhere on the other side of the broch, a horn sounded. The large double doors closed with a slam and Lileas wove through the last of the crowd scrambling to their seats. 

“Your place, Feachar!” she reminded in an exasperated whisper, and with a final wink the Storm Giant left Rosslyn and Alistair to take his seat in the one of the two large, carved chairs at the centre of the curving table. On his other side, the other clan lords settled into place, as cautious with each other as a meeting of feral cats.  

Servers entered from a door set off to one side, carrying glazed pitchers that they dipped into the cauldron in the middle of the room. Some went to the lower tables where the guests held out horn cups or clay tankards, while others approached the high table and filled the cut-glass goblets there with steaming amber liquid. 

“Spiced honey mead,” Rosslyn explained when Alistair took a cautious sniff. “It’s stronger than it looks.” 

 Once everyone had been given a drink and the servers had retreated to the centre of the room, Lileas stood and raised her glass, glancing around as the rest of the broch mirrored her, watching expectantly towards the dais.  

“This is a marvellous day,” she announced. “This is a day we welcome new friends and old allies, and see the return of one we thought lost to us.” She turned briefly to Rosslyn, who returned the fond gaze with a small nod of her head. “For tonight, we celebrate, and for tomorrow, we look to the future and the renewing of our bonds.” 

After a brief pause to allow the murmur of assent to settle, she spoke again, this time a toast in Clayne, her words a melody that wove through the hall and rang in the silence. Alistair couldn’t understand it, but Brantis had drilled the meaning into him so he wouldn’t feel the need to interrupt with questions, and he followed the pattern of the words as she welcomed each clan in turn, then thanked the servers and the cooks and invited everyone gathered to eat their fill. When she finished, he toasted slainte mhor along with the rest of the broch and took a gulp of the mead. 

“How do you find it?” Rosslyn asked, chuckling at the way his eyes watered. 

He coughed. “I guess you did warn me – it’s got a kick. But it’s nice.” 

“Be careful how much you drink,” she cautioned. “It won’t hit you until you try to stand up.” 

“You know you sound different here.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Your Common – you have an accent,” he teased. “Like theirs. Just a little bit.”

“I don’t –” she started, then cleared her throat as she noticed the new broadness of her vowels. “I do not. I don’t. Don’t look at me like that, all smug and smirking like a cat with cream.”

His clever retort was cut short as the servers returned, this time with the platters that had been keeping warm by the fire. Each dish had enough portions for everyone to eat more than enough, and throughout the evening each one would be moved to another part of the room, so everyone could take an equal share in the meal. At the end of the night, the servers would get whatever was left over, as well as whatever choice portions never made it out of the kitchen in the first place. Unlike the fancy meals served at Cailan's table, where each course had a separate flavour palate, here sweet and savoury were mixed, so roasted meats and cheese were set alongside puddings and spiced fruits, with so much choice he barely knew where to start. 

Rosslyn laid a restraining hand on his arm as he reached for a dish of small birds glazed in some kind of sauce.  

“I wouldn’t, with that one,” she said. 

“Why not?” 

“It’s gannet.” When he looked at her blankly, she shook her head and huffed. “You know that smell you were complaining about at the docks when we were stuck in Invermathy?” 

“Yeeees…” 

“Imagine putting that in your mouth.” 

He pushed the platter away. “Ah. An acquired taste then?” 

She let go of his arm. “Not quite. It’s more… tradition. The Storm Islands weren’t always as prosperous they are now, and people had to make do. Keeping gannet on the table is a reminder of where the people came from, so their hubris doesn’t anger the gods.” 

“Aye, and te catch out unwary landlubbers who want te try it.” Eoin pouted at them both from further down the table. “It’s nae fun with you around, lass.” 

“Drink more then,” Rosslyn retorted, smirking. 

Eoin stuck his tongue out at her, but toasted her nonetheless and downed the contents of his glass. From the steadily rising noise level in the broch, others had the same idea. As the evening wore on, the dishes rotated and people started moving between tables to see old friends, and the Storm Giant boomed louder and louder to his conversation partners with each gulp downed. Alistair failed to notice most of it. In between conversations with their other closest neighbours, Rosslyn had taken to educating him on nautical terms using cutlery and table fittings to illustrate her points, while every now and then throwing choice cuts of meat to the dog under the table. As the drink disappeared, she started giggling and leaned in closer, and more than once he caught her staring fascinated at different parts of his face. The room grew very warm. 

“And that’s what green-to-green – Cuno, no – spit that out!”  

She dived under the table to wrestle with her dog for an unexpected chicken bone, leaving Alistair a moment to fully appreciate the soft, fuzzy feeling vibrating through his skull. Rosslyn’s hair gleamed in the torchlight where it tumbled down her back; he wanted to touch it. Trying to puzzle out the exact reason why doing so would be a bad idea, he brought his glass to his lips and was disappointed to find it empty. He looked up to flag down a server, but Nerlina had already appeared at his elbow as if she had stepped through the Fade to reach him. 

“Refill?” she asked sweetly. 

He offered his best grin in return. “Please.” 

Rosslyn, finished making sure her dog wasn’t about to choke, poked her head out from under the table again. The wine warming her veins chilled like a breath of cold air across the back of her neck, and all the worries she had shoved away surged back to the forefront of her mind with the sight that greeted her. Alistair sagged tipsily against the table, his eyes caught on the alcohol slowly filling his glass – or perhaps on Nerlina, who was bending over far more than necessary for a half-emptied pitcher of mead, in a very tight bodice with a very low neckline. 

“I don’t remember if I thanked you for earlier,” he said, still wearing his cheesy smile as he toasted her and drank. 

Nerlina tittered. “It was fun,” she told him, winking as she turned away. “And if you like, I could help you have even more fun later.” 

Alistair choked on his drink. He coughed, fumbling to set the glass back on the table without spilling as the alcohol burned in his lungs and up his nose, but Rosslyn, mind frozen, barely noticed. Heat flooded her face. Her pulse threaded through her ears, mortification fusing with whatever force was crushing through her chest, scalding behind her eyes. She stared at Alistair, watching him splutter from far outside herself. When he turned to her, eyes wild with panic, she flinched away, catching her gaze on a stain in the tablecloth.  

I should have known. Only the strictures of her noble training and adamant self-restraint kept her from fleeing right there, the knowledge that to leave now would cause insult to her hosts and possibly unwind all the good they meant to do for the king. Everything was too hot, too loud – she buried her fingers into Cuno’s ruff, the coarse fur against her skin the only anchor that kept the world from keeling over sideways. Her blood pulsed like mercury through her chest. I have been an utter, utter fool. 

“Rosslyn –” 

She pulled her hand away from him, reached shakily for her drink. “It’s not my business.” 

“No, you don’t –” He steadied himself. “I – That’s not what it sounded like. At all.” 

“I’m here to see we get our ships,” she growled, willing the alcohol to work faster. “Whatever else happens is…” She turned with a smile, brittle even to her herself. “There’s no shame in seeking company.” 

“And you think I want Nerlina’s company?” he demanded. His gaze followed the arch of her throat as she tipped back her glass to drain it of its contents. “Rosslyn, no. That’s – I mean, not that she isn’t attractive, I suppose, but –” He blanched. “Maker’s breath… I never considered – I mean, I have considered company in more, uh, general terms, of course, I just…” 

Something in the awkward shift of his eyes, the tick rubbing at the back of his neck, pulled Rosslyn back into the present moment. Her heart fluttered at the suspicion rising in her mind. 

“You’ve considered it?” she repeated. “Does that mean you’ve never…?” Her lungs constricted. 

His eyes blew wide and he leaned away. “Never what? Never had a good pair of shoes?” 

“You know what I mean,” she insisted, turning in her seat.  

“I’m not sure I do. Have I never seen a basilisk? Ate jellied ham? Have I never…” He glanced about, looking for inspiration, “…licked a lamppost in winter?” 

“And now you’re making fun of me.” With hope sinking like lead in her stomach, she turned away again, shifting as far away from him as she could as her mood crashed down and her teeth gritted against the sudden urge to cry. 

He caught her fingers before she could fold her arms over her chest. “Make fun of you dear lady?” he teased. “Perish the thought.” The earnest look in his eyes was an apology. He swayed into her line of sight, lowering himself so she had to look down at him as he wrapped her hand in both of his, the world now disappeared behind a tipsy haze and the knot of tension twisting between them. 

“Tell me,” he breathed, with a ghost of a grin, “have you ever licked a lamppost in winter?” 

“I…” Her memory flashed, to all the conversations between Oriana and the other ladies that left her out; how at court she was teased for her obliviousness, then later reassured an inclination would grow in time, and then later still told in no uncertain terms enjoyment of the act was not required for the getting of heirs. Everyone had always seemed so interested in sex, in the wanting and the expectation, and for the longest time she had thought them all merely bluffing, exaggerating what they felt because that was what was done, until the day she realised the bemusement was hers alone, that others desired in a way she did not, that she was locked outside a gate that had no key. 

She couldn’t tell him any of this. Not here, in a public hall rife with interested ears – and how could she do so anyway, without having him turn from her to someone with more than a detached curiosity in that kind of intimacy? What had her life been without him in it? 

“No,” she said, dropping her gaze to stare at the point of Cuno’s ear. “I haven’t.” 

Alistair squeezed her hand. “Good. I hear it’s quite painful. First you get stuck, and there’s pointing and laughing, and then you become known for miles around as the idiot who got their tongue frozen to a metal pole.” 

She couldn’t help the lift of a smile, though the back of her throat still burned. “Is that a warning from personal experience?” 

“You wish – some of the village boys did it on a dare once. I myself have also never done it.” His gaze faltered, voice lowered as colour climbed in his face. “That. I know it’s somewhat, uh, expected, but… I don’t know, maybe it’s because of where I came from, but I’ve always thought it would be better to – to be with a person you wanted to be with. That probably doesn’t make any sense.” He started to pull away, but Rosslyn held tight to his hand and didn’t let him. 

“I think it does,” she said in a small voice. “To be with someone you trust, when it’s an experience shared, not something taken.” 

They were sitting very close now. When Rosslyn glanced up, her breath stilled, caught in the way the torches illuminated beads of gold and amber in Alistair’s tawny eyes. She watched as his gaze trailed away from hers, following the movement of his free hand with rapt concentration as he gathered a stray wisp of her hair and pushed it behind her ear. 

“That’s it exactly,” he murmured. His thumb lingered on her jaw. “Have you… never found anyone like that, my lady?” 

Her smile turned wolfish, her cheeks warming with colour. “Well… maybe I just never found a lamppost worth licking before.” 

“Maker’s breath.” He reeled away, slumping backwards so his head hit the backrest of his chair with a dull thud, his eyes squeezed shut and his lips drawn inward between his teeth.  

“Alistair?” 

The concern in her voice brought a giggle bubbling up his throat. The alcohol singing through his blood meant the sound built until he couldn’t stop. In short order, the infection spread to Rosslyn, who doubled over, laughing at nothing until all the breath was driven from her lungs and the awkwardness of their conversation passed into base hysteria. It seemed most of the other guests were too deep in their own cups to notice the exchange, and neither of them felt much like letting go of the other’s hand.  

“Here, let me,” Alistair said when she reached for her glass and remembered it was empty. With a slightly unsteady grip, he tipped half of his own drink into hers. 

“Thank you.” 

Further along the table, the Storm Giant banged on the table with his fist. “Is this a celebration or a wake?” he cried. “We need music! Cuilean, din’t ye say ye brought an Orlesian songstress wi’ ye?” 

“Leliana is a Chantry sister,” Rosslyn answered, drawn out of her contemplation of the thumb stroking across her palm. “But she has a fondness for folk tales if she’s in the mood to share.” She beckoned to one of the servers and sent him down into the crowd to where the redhead sat among the Highever guard, and watched as she picked up her lute from under the bench and glided into the empty space in front of the fire pit. 

“What song would you have of me, my lord?” she asked the Storm Giant. 

Lileas answered. “A good bard knows how to read a room, does she not?” 

With a tiny, dimpled smile, Leliana bowed. “I am not a bard, but I will do my best. Perhaps something old to help our wonderful meal digest?” 

The broch fell silent. Somebody dashed in with a chair so Leliana could sit, then retreated into the shadows by the kitchen door. She plucked a few notes on her instrument, testing the tuning of the strings. 

“I learned this song from a Dalish woman when I was at Halamshiral with my patronesss,” she told them all. “She could not sing well herself, but she liked my voice and missed the old songs of her people, so she taught them to me so I could carry them forward. This one is called ‘Ame Amin’, and it is the lament of an elvhen knight upon witnessing the fall of the Dales.” 

“Bloody odd subject matter fae a Chantry sister,” the Storm Giant grunted. His wife batted him on the arm. 

Rosslyn had never heard Leliana sing. She knew the older woman had the ability, but hadn’t expected the crystaline quality to her voice as the first few notes climbed through the hall. It purled like the waves of the sea, speaking of loss and renewal, compelling sadness and wistfulness despite the foreign nature of the words. It filled the curve of the vaulted ceiling and returned strange, nascent echoes that isolated and magnified the cadence until everything else fell away. As the servers quietly tidied away the dishes, the cares of the day seemed to sneak in, weighting her limbs with a dull fatigue that sent tingles to the ends of her fingers. She only realised she had closed her eyes when a slight nudge against her shoulder startled her out of her doze. 

“It’s getting late,” Alistair murmured as the final notes of the song dissolved into the air.  

“Are you telling me it’s bedtime?” she asked through a yawn. “I haven’t had a bedtime since –” The memory shot through her like a cold knife in the ribs. She had spoken those exact words at Glenlough, with her father. Almost the last thing she had ever said to him. “I suppose we’ll need clear heads for the morning.” 

“I think I’ve had too much mead for that.” 

She chuckled, hiding a second yawn behind her hand as she toed her boot against Cuno’s side to wake him up. Around the hall, others were getting up as well, pleasantly full of food and drink, to begin the long stagger back to cot or hammock. 

“Would you mind if I came with you?” Alistair asked as she stood and stretched. 

“The night isn’t entirely over yet,” she answered, flashing him a wry grin as more minstrels appeared on the dais. “But if you’re worried about getting lost again, then it’s probably better if I let you tag along.” 

“Your Ladyship has such a magnanimous attitude.” 

With a tired chuckle, she led the way towards the door that opened onto the courtyard, her fingers buried in Cuno’s ruff to combat the sway of the floor. She paused to bid her grandparents goodnight, like she was a little girl again, but she missed the way the Storm Giant’s eyes narrowed when he spotted Alistair rising to follow her. 

They left a comfortable space between them and walked in silence through the night. The cool air shook off some of Rosslyn’s tiredness, but in the brief few hours since the horn had sounded to eat a thick fog had rolled in off the sea, leaving them in a formless, directionless void. The dog disappeared on the scent of some small animal, his snuffling weirdly magnified in the still air, and returned as a patch of heavier shadow in the darkness. 

“Here we are, safe and sound,” Rosslyn announced as the round bulk of the guest house materialised through the fog. A pair of whale-oil lamps flanked the low door, casting a greasy pall over their faces as they crossed the threshold. The space inside was dim but warm, laid out in the same wheel-like pattern as the broch, except here each wall radiating out from the communal space in the centre enclosed a room, with another level above reached by a sturdy wooden stairway.  

“It’s very cosy in here,” Alistair commented as he followed her to the bottom of the stairs. 

“It is. And I suppose this is good night.” Cuno had already padded up to her room, but tradition forbade men from going beyond the ground floor. 

Alistair tugged at her fingers. “Just a moment. ‘Good night’ is hardly a fitting farewell to the woman who brought me safely through the perils of a strange land, beset by shadows and mist.” 

“It was thirty feet,” she protested, allowing him to close the last casual space between them so she had to tilt her head back to see above his chin.  

“Oh hush, I’m trying to be gallant.”  

“Are you? In that case, I apologise.” When had he slid his arm around her waist? “Go on.” 

He still had hold of her fingers. Her palms were calloused from swordwork, the knuckles flecked with scars, but the skin on the back of her hand was so soft he could spend forever touching it. 

“You look beautiful,” he murmured. “I’ve been trying to work up the courage to tell you all day.” 

He was so close, filling every sense until she was left dizzy. The small part of her mind not weighed down by alcohol or warmth or the scent of pinesmoke knew she ought to reply, to at least express gratitude for the compliment, but it faded away as she watched him lean down in order to leave a courtly kiss on her hand. His eyes slipped closed. She wanted more. She drew her hand back, amused when he followed blindly, and when he was close enough, with wine and anticipation fizzing through her blood, she caught his cheek and pressed her mouth to his. The muscles under her palm tensed, and for an instant she feared he would pull away, but then he pushed forwards, folding one arm more fully around her waist while the other curled along the line of her jaw. He tasted of honey. She wound her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him forward, matching his eagerness, moulding to the solid shape of him until they overbalanced and had to stumble against the wall to catch themselves. 

“Careful,” he breathed, still with his lips at the corner of her mouth.  

When she turned into the feeling, he responded, kissed her with light, lingering touches until she was giggling again and had to hide her face in the crook of his neck. Tangled so close, in the dark with silence draped over even the crack of the fire, the divisions between their two bodies grew indistinct, irrelevant, and she could have stayed forever wrapped in it, giddy enough to tremble with the reassuring beat of Alistair’s heart beneath her ear. 

“You know, I'm even more glad I passed on the gannet now,” he said, from somewhere above her. “That – that wasn’t too soon, was it?” 

She pulled back. “Was it? I’m the one – I kissed you first.” 

“You did, didn’t you?” he agreed, delight evident in every line of his face. 

“What,” she teased, “were you not paying attention?” 

“Oh, it’s not that. I was just wondering…” His voice dropped to a low rumble that stroked a shiver up her back. “Is this the part where I get to do the same?” 

Uncertainty crowded back in, warring with her joy. “Only if you want to.” 

For a brief instant, it looked like he was going to say something clever, but his gaze dropped to her mouth and with a dismissive shake of his head he leaned down again. The movement was deliberate, measured, the slant of his mouth promising more with everything it held back, and when his tongue peeked across her lips, her knees started shaking.  

“I definitely want to,” he told her. 

“That’s good to know.” Without quite meaning to, her gaze shifted to the darkened hall around them, with the peat fire burning low in the central hearth. “It’s late.” 

“Not for a little while yet, surely?” he tried, with a hopeful quirk of an eyebrow. 

“I wish I could say so. Good night, Alistair.” She rose on tiptoe and pressed one final kiss against his mouth, only for him to catch her with another. 

“Good night.” 

Shaking her head, she untangled their arms, her touch lingering until she stumbled on the first stair and decided to pay attention to where her feet were going instead. She didn’t look back until she reached the mezzanine, and her heart fluttered when she found Alistair still rooted in place, his expression split in a beaming smile she couldn’t miss even in the dark. 

#dragon age #dragon age: origins #dragon age au #alistair theirin #alistair x cousland #cousland #rosslyn cousland

[somekindofsimplicity]

Some recent photos of my little man. Updates with him: - He has found his voice! This includes shrieking at the top of his lungs, babbling, and whining if he doesn't get his way. - He loves Zayne to pieces and they are two peas in a pod. It is the absolute cutest to see them together and bonding. - Eoin rolled from his back to his tummy two days ago in his bassinet (the dark photo was taken as I found him) and I don't think I've ever seen him more proud of his accomplishment. He hasn't done it since, but oh man that's all he tries to do when he's on the couch or playmat or the bed. All of this means little sleep for me, but it's worth it. - Just when I thought I have no more strength, that I'm exhausted and touched out and begging for him to sleep so I can rest, he smiles or looks at me and I remember I can do this, and all of this is so worth it it. I just have to take it one day at a time.

#momblr #mumblr #mombie #18 weeks

[hunkiedorieblog]

Last year my new year’s resolution was to read more. My whole life I have been a passionate reader but I am very shy about sharing what I read with others. Many people in my life read memoirs and self-improvement books, I wish I had an interest in those so I could participate in their many conversations about recent reads. But, my interests always lie in the more young adult sci-fi and fantasy types of books. I was always teased growing up about what a weird taste in books I had, which has made me very self-conscious. Despite this, I have decided to try and ignore my reservations and share my reading list from the past year in case someone may share my interests. This year my biggest focus was on reading for pleasure while mixing in some of the classics since my highschool seemed to skip right over those, I also am starting to mix in some self-improvement books here and there although those still struggle to keep my attention. My suggestion for anyone who struggles to find the time to read is to get an Audible subscription. I was so successful with my reading goals this year because I would buy my books at Half Priced Books and buy the audiobooks on Audible. This way I could listen to my books on my way to and from work or at the gym but still read the paper version on lunch breaks or at home in the evenings.

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The Lost World: A Novel (Jurassic Park)

by Michael Crichton

It is now six years since the secret disaster at Jurassic Park, six years since the extraordinary dream of science and imagination came to a crashing end—the dinosaurs destroyed, the park dismantled, and the island indefinitely closed to the public.

I read Jurassic Park in 2018 and was shocked at how different the characters in the book were from the ones I fell in love with in Steven Spielberg’s movie. This book is exciting and terrifying. Be careful you don’t read this before a camping trip, this book made me a little jumpy on my morning walks through the woods for a while after reading.

Buy The Lost World on Amazon

What’s So Amazing About Grace?

by Philip Yancey

We speak of grace often. But do we understand it? More importantly, do we truly believe in it . . . and do our lives proclaim it as powerfully as our words? In What’s So Amazing About Grace? Award-winning author Philip Yancey explores grace at street level. If grace is God’s love for the undeserving, he asks, then what does it look like in action? And if Christians are its sole dispensers, then how are we doing at lavishing grace on a cruel and pain-filled world?

This was a required reading for my religious studies class at school this year. This wouldn’t normally have been a book I would choose to read on a whim but all in all I did enjoy it. If you belong to some sort of bible study or religious support group this book may be a good option to introduce some material to fuel new discussion topics.

Buy What’s So Amazing About Grace? on Amazon

 Wuthering Heights

by Emily Brontë

Lockwood, the new tenant of Thrushcross Grange, situated on the bleak Yorkshire moors, is forced to seek shelter one night at Wuthering Heights, the home of his landlord. There he discovers the history of the tempestuous events that took place years before. What unfolds is the tale of the intense love between the gypsy foundling Heathcliff and Catherine Earnshaw. Catherine, forced to choose between passionate, tortured Heathcliff and gentle, well-bred Edgar Linton, surrendered to the expectations of her class. As Heathcliff’s bitterness and vengeance at his betrayal is visited upon the next generation, their innocent heirs must struggle to escape the legacy of the past.

I think it is safe to say that this was my least favorite read of the entire year. I can understand why this book is considered a classic as the writing itself was beautifully done but I consistently found myself wanting to bang my head against a wall out of frustration with these characters. Everyone was so miserable, whining and moaning about how terrible their lives were while acting so cruel to one another taking out their frustrations on anyone close to them without ever really attempting to solve their problems or improve their situation. I was relieved when the book was finally finished and although I can say that I am glad to have read this book as I know it has had a significant impact on modern literature, I would never ever want to read this book or revisit these depressing characters again.

Buy Wuthering Heights on Amazon

Artemis Fowl: Artemis Fowl, Book 1

by Eoin Colfer

Twelve-year-old Artemis is a millionaire, a genius-and above all, a criminal mastermind. But Artemis doesn’t know what he’s taken on when he kidnaps a fairy, Captain Holly Short of the LEPrecon Unit. These aren’t the fairies of the bedtime stories-they’re dangerous!

This was one of my favorite books growing up. The combination of science, technology, and magic instantly had me hooked.  When I found out that these books were being turned into a movie I took the opportunity to revisit one of my childhood favorites.

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The Arctic Incident: Artemis Fowl, Book 2

by Eoin Colfer

Artemis Fowl is at boarding school in Iceland when he receives an urgent video email from Russia. It’s a plea from his father, who has been kidnapped by the Russian mafia. As Artemis rushes to his rescue, he is stopped by Captain Holly Short. This time, instead of battling the fairies, he’s going to have to join forces with them if he wants to save one of the few people he loves.

After revisiting Artemis Fowl, Book 1 I discovered that this memorable book from my childhood was actually part of a series. I spent the next couple of months reading a number of books from the series and still have a few more to go. Artemis’s sassy intellect, Butler’s fierce devotion, Holly’s ambition, and Mulch’s cleverness make for a killer cast that will lead you on exciting adventures.

Buy The Arctic Incident on Amazon

The Eternity Code: Artemis Fowl, Book 3

by Eoin Colfer

Artemis Fowl has created the most powerful new supercomputer known to man–using stolen technology from an elite race of underground fairies. When the computer falls into the hands of an IT billionaire with a mob connection, Artemis is in deep trouble. Only one fairy can help now. If only he wasn’t the fairies’ public enemy number one. . .

These books are such fun quick reads they are a great book to recommend to a young reader and still enjoy yourself. One of my friends reads the same book as her husband’s daughter and keeps up even when they aren’t together to provide a fun shared experience. I keep meaning to mention this series to her for them to read once they are through the Harry Potter Books.

Buy The Eternity Code on Amazon

The Opal Deception: Artemis Fowl, Book 4

by Eoin Colfer

Artemis Fowl’s memories of the fairy race have been wiped, and his one fairy ally, Captain Holly Short, is on the run. He needs his memory back–and fast–because a power-crazed pixie is out for revenge, scheming to overthrow the Lower Elements Police. With Holly gone, Artemis is depending on a flatulent dwarf. Things are about to explode. . .

The introduction of Opal Koboi as a recurring antagonist in the Artemis Fowl series has created an exciting challenge that pushes Artemis’s wits to new limits and sparks new life into the series.

Buy The Opal Deception on Amazon

The Lost Colony: Artemis Fowl, Book 5

by Eoin Colfer

Until recently, Artemis Fowl was the only human to have discovered that magical beings do indeed exist. But now a second juvenile genius wants to capture a demon for scientific study. Only an ancient time spell separates the demons from humankind–and Artemis must prevent it from unraveling. If he fails, the bloodthirsty tribe will relaunch their quest to wipe humans from the planet.

Buy The Lost Colony on Amazon

The Time Paradox: Artemis Fowl, Book 6

by Eoin Colfer

Just when Artemis Fowl decided to forego the criminal activity of the magical kind, his mother became gravely ill.

The only way he can save her is by traveling back in time to steal the cure from the clutches of the devious mastermind . . . Artemis Fowl.

Buy The Time Paradox on Amazon

The Atlantis Complex: Artemis Fowl, Book 7

by Eoin Colfer

Dabbling in fairy magic has led Artemis Fowl to develop the Atlantis Complex (aka multiple-personality disorder). And now, with the subterranean city of Atlantis under attack from vicious robots, he is too nice to be of use to anyone.

Can Holly get devious Artemis back before they strike?

Buy The Atlantis Complex on Amazon

A Map of Days (Miss Peregrine’s Peculiar Children, Book 4)

by Ranson Riggs

Having defeated the monstrous threat that nearly destroyed the peculiar world, Jacob Portman is back where his story began, in Florida. Except now Miss Peregrine, Emma, and their peculiar friends are with him and doing their best to blend in. But carefree days of beach visits and normalling lessons are soon interrupted by a discovery—a subterranean bunker that belonged to Jacob’s grandfather, Abe.

Clues to Abe’s double-life as a peculiar operative start to emerge, secrets long hidden in plain sight. And Jacob begins to learn about the dangerous legacy he has inherited—truths that were part of him long before he walked into Miss Peregrine’s time loop.

Now, the stakes are higher than ever as Jacob and his friends are thrust into the untamed landscape of American peculiardom—a world with few ymbrynes, or rules—that none of them understand. New wonders, and dangers, await in this brilliant next chapter for Miss Peregrine’s peculiar children. Their story is again illustrated by haunting vintage photographs, now with the striking addition of full-color images interspersed throughout for this all-new, multi-era American adventure.

This is the fourth book in a series I have been reading for the past few years. I love the use of old photographs scattered throughout the book that serve as Ransom Riggs’s inspiration for his characters. If you have seen Tim Burton’s film version of book 1, please forget everything you saw and pick up the book, these stories are a million times better than the film adaptation.

Buy A Map of Days on Amazon

Something Wicked This Way Comes

by Ray Bradbury

For those who still dream and remember, for those yet to experience the hypnotic power of its dark poetry, step inside. The show is about to begin. Cooger & Dark’s Pandemonium Shadow Show has come to Green Town, Illinois, to destroy every life touched by its strange and sinister mystery. The carnival rolls in sometime after midnight, ushering in Halloween a week early. A calliope’s shrill siren song beckons to all with a seductive promise of dreams and youth regained. Two boys will discover the secret of its smoke, mazes, and mirrors; two friends who will soon know all too well the heavy cost of wishes…and the stuff of nightmares.

Buy Something Wicked This Way Comes on Amazon

Mother Knows Best: A Tale of the Old Witch (Villains Book 5)

by Serena Valentino

The tale of the legendary golden flower is widely known. The story has been told many times and in many ways. But always the flower is coveted by an old witch to keep herself young and beautiful. And always the flower is used to save a dying queen, who then gives birth to a princess with magical hair. Not willing to lose the flower, the old witch steals the princess and locks her away in a high tower, raising her as her own. But the princess always finds out who she truly is and manages to defeat the old witch.

And yet this is only half the story. So what of the old witch, Mother Gothel? Where does she come from? And how does she come across the magical golden flower? Here is one account that recounts a version of the story that has remained untold for centuries . . . until now. It is a tale of mothers and daughters, of youth and dark magic. It is a tale of the old witch.

I discovered Serena Valentino’s books a few years ago and have had tons of fun reading her depictions of our favorite Disney villain’s backstories. In this book, Mother Gothel joins the ranks of Ursala, The Beast and The Evil Queen to help us realize that our villans once had the same hope and kindness we find in many of their famous counterparts. A fun detail to all of Serena’s books in this series is the cover art. You will find one version of the villain’s face on the book jacket, remove it and you will find a different version of their face underneath.

Buy Mother Knows Best on Amazon

Mortal Engines: Mortal Engines, Book 1

by Philip Reeve

London is hunting again. Emerging from its hiding place in the hills, the great Traction City is chasing a terrified little town across the wastelands. Soon London will feed.

In the attack, Tom Natsworthy is flung from the speeding city with a murderous scar-faced girl. They must run for their lives through the wreckage — and face a terrifying new weapon that threatens the future of the world.

Ever since I heard Peter Jackson was doing a movie based on this book my curiosity was piqued and this book has sat on my wish list for a while. This year I finally decided to tackle this title. I have to be honest and say I was a little bored with the book. It did have several shining moments and I would be willing to read other books in the series but I felt as though some scenes and characters lacked the development and attention they deserved.

Buy Mortal Engines on Amazon

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

by Douglas Adams

Seconds before Earth is demolished to make way for a galactic freeway, Arthur Dent is plucked off the planet by his friend Ford Prefect, a researcher for the revised edition of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy who, for the last fifteen years, has been posing as an out-of-work actor.

I’m not sure why but the 2005 film version starring Martin Freeman is one of my favorite movies. This was another book that had been sitting on my wishlist for a while. Although it was a fun read I think a prefer the movie’s storyline a little bit more. I was excited to learn that this book is part of a series, I am eager to read on in 2020.

Buy The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy on Amazon

A Study in Scarlet Women: The Lady Sherlock, Book 1

by Sherry Thomas

With her inquisitive mind, Charlotte Holmes has never felt comfortable with the demureness expected of the fairer sex in upper-class society. But even she never thought that she would become a social pariah, an outcast fending for herself on the mean streets of London.

When the city is struck by a trio of unexpected deaths and suspicion falls on her sister and her father, Charlotte is desperate to find the true culprits and clear the family name. She’ll have help from friends new and old—a kind-hearted widow, a police inspector, and a man who has long loved her.

But in the end, it will be up to Charlotte, under the assumed name Sherlock Holmes, to challenge society’s expectations and match wits against an unseen mastermind.

This book was recommended to me by my roommate Emiley (Mighty Miley). This was a fun new spin on a classic character. This series has turned the traditionally male characters Sherlock and Watson into strong females working on the fringes of society in secret.

Buy A Study In Scarlet Women on Amazon

A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court

by Mark Twain

A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court is an 1889 novel by American humorist and writer Mark Twain. The book was originally titled A Yankee in King Arthur’s Court. Some early editions are titled A Yankee at the Court of King Arthur. In the book, a Yankee engineer from Connecticut named Hank Morgan receives a severe blow to the head and is somehow transported in time and space to England during the reign of King Arthur. After some initial confusion and his capture by one of Arthur’s knights, Hank realizes that he is actually in the past, and he uses his knowledge to make people believe that he is a powerful magician. He attempts to modernize the past in order to make people’s lives better, but in the end, he is unable to prevent the death of Arthur and an interdict against him by the Catholic Church of the time, which grows fearful of his power. Twain wrote the book as a burlesque of Romantic notions of chivalry after being inspired by a dream in which he was a knight himself, severely inconvenienced by the weight and cumbersome nature of his armor. It is a satire of feudalism and monarchy that also celebrates homespun ingenuity and democratic values while questioning the ideals of capitalism and outcomes of the Industrial Revolution. It is among several works by Twain and his contemporaries that mark the transition from the Gilded Age to the Progressive Era of socioeconomic discourse.

When I mentioned to my grandmother that I wanted to read more classic titles she was thrilled with the idea and gave me quite an extensive list. This book was among the titles she gave me. Unfortunately, I really struggled to get into the story. I expected a lot more excitement and adventure but I was left feeling like I was reading more of a guidebook to modernizing medieval  Europe. It was nice to have my hand at a work of Mark Twain, but to be honest, I could take or leave this book.

Buy A Connecticut Yankee In King Arthur’s Court on Amazon

The Graveyard Book

by Neil Gaiman

Nobody Owens, known as Bod, is a normal boy. He would be completely normal if he didn’t live in a graveyard, being raised by ghosts, with a guardian who belongs to neither the world of the living nor the dead. There are adventures in the graveyard for a boy—an ancient Indigo Man, a gateway to the abandoned city of ghouls, the strange and terrible Sleer. But if Bod leaves the graveyard, he will be in danger from the man Jack—who has already killed Bod’s family.

Neil Gaiman has long been one of my favorite authors. He is responsible for books like American Gods, Stardust, and Coraline. This book is easily my favorite title belonging to this author and is probably tied with the Gretta Helsing books as my favorite read this year. Graveyard book is a retelling of a classic. Gaiman’s retelling of the Jungle Book swaps jungle animals for graveyard ghosts and ghouls twisted with secret societies and a smattering of other supernatural forces.

Buy The Graveyard Book on Amazon

The Witches of New York

by Ami McKay

New York in the spring of 1880 is a place alive with wonder and curiosity. Determined to learn the truth about the world, its residents enthusiastically engage in both scientific experimentation and spiritualist pursuits. Séances are the entertainment of choice in exclusive social circles, and many enterprising women—some possessed of true intuitive powers, and some gifted with the art of performance—find work as mediums.

Enter Adelaide Thom and Eleanor St. Clair. At their humble teashop, Tea and Sympathy, they provide a place for whispered confessions, secret cures, and spiritual assignations for a select society of ladies, who speak the right words and ask the right questions. But the profile of Tea and Sympathy is about to change with the fortuitous arrival of Beatrice Dunn.

When seventeen-year-old Beatrice leaves the safety of her village to answer an ad that reads “Respectable Lady Seeks Dependable Shop Girl. Those averse to magic need not apply,” she has little inclination of what the job will demand of her. Beatrice doesn’t know it yet, but she is no ordinary small-town girl; she has great spiritual gifts—ones that will serve as her greatest asset and also place her in grave danger. Under the tutelage of Adelaide and Eleanor, Beatrice comes to harness many of her powers, but not even they can prepare her for the evils lurking in the darkest corners of the city or the courage it will take to face them.

This title popped up on my Audible recommended reading list. An easy read that left me wanting more. I felt as though this book touched on some very exciting opportunities for plot development but didn’t quite follow through. However, as I was putting together this list I discovered that this book is actually part of a series, which I have no doubt will dive into the storylines I felt was breezed through in book one.

Buy The Witches of New York on Amazon

Interview with the Vampire

by Anne Rice

Here are the confessions of a vampire. Hypnotic, shocking, and chillingly erotic, this is a novel of mesmerizing beauty and astonishing force—a story of danger and flight, of love and loss, of suspense and resolution, and of the extraordinary power of the senses. It is a novel only Anne Rice could write.

Another book turned into a movie. I vaguely remember the movie starring Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise that follows the same basic vampire m.o. Brooding vampire struggling with the march of time and dismayed by all the death and pain he has caused. Enter a vampire who has taken to the life of death and desire like a fish to water who tries to convince their depressed counterpart that they need to find joy in their situation. This book follows that same basic concept but went on way way too long. I felt that the same story could have been told in half the time and we all could have moved on to something more exciting. Again, this was a book I thought I should read because it had set the tone for many vampire stories to follow, but in the end, the book had about as much life to it as one of Lestat’s drained corpses.

Buy Interview with the Vampire on Amazon

Strange Practice (A Dr. Greta Helsing Novel, Book 1)

by Vivan Shaw

Greta Helsing inherited her family’s highly specialized and highly peculiar medical practice. In her consulting rooms, Dr. Helsing treats the undead for a host of ills – vocal strain in banshees, arthritis in barrow-wights, and entropy in mummies. Although she barely makes ends meet, this is just the quiet, supernatural-adjacent life Greta’s been groomed for since childhood.

Until a sect of murderous monks emerges, killing human and undead Londoners alike. As terror takes hold of the city, Greta must use her unusual skills to stop the cult if she hopes to save her practice and her life.

This is another title that has been sitting on my wish list for a while and I could kick myself for not reading it sooner. I could not put this book down and was thrilled to learn that there were two more published books in the series. The Dr. Greta Helsing series was easily my favorite reads this year.

Buy Strange Practice on Amazon

Dreadful Company (A Dr. Greta Helsing Novel, Book 2)

by Vivian Shaw

When Greta Helsing, doctor to the undead, is unexpectedly called to Paris to present at a medical conference, she expects nothing more exciting than professional discourse on zombie reconstructive surgery and skin disease in bogeymen — and hopefully at least one uneventful night at the Opera.

Unfortunately for Greta, Paris happens to be infested with a coven of vampires — and not the civilized kind. If she hopes to survive, Greta must navigate the darkest corners of the City of Lights, the maze of ancient catacombs and mine-tunnels underneath the streets, where there is more to find than simply dead men’s bones.

This was the second book in the Greta Helsing series and I was just as thrilled with book two as I was with book one. This page-turner had me launching myself into book three.

Buy Dreadful Company on Amazon

Grave Importance (A Dr. Greta Helsing Novel, Book 3)

by Vivian Shaw

Oasis Natrun: a private, exclusive, highly secret luxury health spa for mummies, high in the hills above Marseille, equipped with the very latest in therapeutic innovations both magical and medical. To Dr. Greta Helsing, London’s de facto mummy specialist, it sounds like paradise. But when Greta is invited to spend four months there as the interim clinical director, it isn’t long before she finds herself faced with a medical mystery that will take all her diagnostic skill to solve.

A peculiar complaint is spreading among her mummy patients, one she’s never seen before. With help from her friends and colleagues — including Dr. Faust (yes, that Dr. Faust), a sleepy scribe-god, witches, demons, a British Museum curator, and the inimitable vampyre Sir Francis Varney — Greta must put a stop to this mysterious illness before anybody else crumbles to irreparable dust…

…and before the fabric of reality itself can undergo any more structural damage.

Book three in the Greta Helsing series did not dissapoint. This story was exciting and wrapped many of these characters in a perfect way where I could say a satisfied goodbye while picturing their futures without the need for more from the author, although I would happily welcome another addition to the series.

Buy Grave Importance on Amazon

Hocus Pocus and the All-New Sequel

by Disney Press, A. W. Jantha

Hocus Pocus is beloved by Halloween enthusiasts all over the world. Diving once more into the world of witches, this New York Times bestselling two-part young adult novel, released on the twenty-fifth anniversary of the 1993 film, marks a new era of Hocus Pocus. Fans will be spellbound by a fresh retelling of the original film, followed by the all-new sequel that continues the story with the next generation of Salem teens.

Shortly after moving from California to Salem, Massachusetts, Max Dennison finds himself in hot water when he accidentally releases a coven of witches, the Sanderson sisters, from the afterlife. Max, his sister, and his new friends (human and otherwise) must find a way to stop the witches from carrying out their evil plan and remaining on earth to torment Salem for all eternity.

Twenty-five years later, Max and Allison’s seventeen-year-old daughter, Poppy, finds herself face-to-face with the Sanderson sisters in all their sinister glory. When Halloween celebrations don’t quite go as planned, it’s a race against time as Poppy and her friends fight to save her family and all of Salem from the witches’ latest vile scheme.

I dare you not to visualize Bette Midler, Sarah Jessica Parker, or Kathy Najimy storming through the story as you revisit one of your favorite Halloween stories. I heard each of their voices perfectly as I tore my way through this book and made my way through an all-new Sanderson adventure.

Buy Hocus Pocus and the All-New Sequel on Amazon

Doctor Sleep

by Stephen King

Years ago, the haunting of the Overlook Hotel nearly broke young Dan Torrance’s sanity, as his paranormal gift known as “the shining” opened a door straight into hell. And even though Dan is all grown up, the ghosts of the Overlook—and his father’s legacy of alcoholism and violence—kept him drifting aimlessly for most of his life. Now, Dan has finally found some order in the chaos by working in a local hospice, earning the nickname “Doctor Sleep” by secretly using his special abilities to comfort the dying and prepare them for the afterlife. But when he unexpectedly meets twelve-year-old Abra Stone—who possesses an even more powerful manifestation of the shining—the two find their lives in sudden jeopardy at the hands of the ageless and murderous nomadic tribe known as the True Knot, reigniting Dan’s own demons and summoning him to battle for this young girl’s soul and survival…

The sequel to The Shining is just as chilling as you would expect from a Stephen King novel. The book was turned into a movie in 2019 starring Ewan McGregor, I have yet to see it but I hope the screen version can do the book justice.

Buy Doctor Sleep on Amazon

The House with a Clock in its Walls

by John Bellairs

When Lewis Barnavelt, an orphan. comes to stay with his uncle Jonathan, he expects to meet an ordinary person. But he is wrong. Uncle Jonathan and his next-door neighbor, Mrs. Zimmermann, are both magicians! Lewis is thrilled. At first, watching magic is enough. Then Lewis experiments with magic himself and unknowingly resurrects the former owner of the house: a woman named Selenna Izard. It seems that Selenna and her husband built a timepiece into the walls–a clock that could obliterate humankind. And only the Barnavelts can stop it!

A very cute story but another case where I felt the film create much more magic than the book. A fun Halloween read with characters you would hope to visit again and again.

Buy The House with a Clock in Its Walls on Amazon

A Discovery of Witches: A Novel (All Souls Trilogy, Book 1)

by Deborah Harkness

Deborah Harkness’s sparkling debut, A Discovery of Witches, has brought her into the spotlight and galvanized fans around the world. In this tale of passion and obsession, Diana Bishop, a young scholar and a descendant of witches, discovers a long-lost and enchanted alchemical manuscript, Ashmole 782, deep in Oxford’s Bodleian Library. Its reappearance summons a fantastical underworld, which she navigates with her leading man, vampire geneticist Matthew Clairmont.

Harkness has created a universe to rival those of Anne Rice, Diana Gabaldon, and Elizabeth Kostova, and she adds a scholar’s depth to this riveting tale of magic and suspense. The story continues in book two, Shadow of Night, and concludes with The Book of Life.

I remember my mom reading this book years ago and being intrigued by a story that brought vampires and witches together in a forbidden romance. This was long before the Twilight Saga sparked the vampire craze in the media. This first book in the All Souls Trilogy is a grown-up version of Twilight that incorporates time travel and witchcraft into the overprotective vampire boyfriend story we have all become familiar with. In 2018 this story was brought to life on screen in the television series Discover of Witches. In this case although the show was great and inspired me to read the books, the books were so much better. The imagery in the books was wonderfully done and I missed little but beloved details like the ghosts at Dianna’s house.

Buy A Discovery of Witches on Amazon

Shadow of Night: A Novel (All Souls Trilogy, Book 2)

by Deborah Harkness

J. K. Rowling, Stephenie Meyer, Anne Rice—only a few writers capture the imagination the way that Deborah Harkness has with her New York Times–bestselling All Souls trilogy. A Discovery of Witches introduces reluctant witch Diana Bishop, vampire geneticist Matthew Clairmont, and the battle for a lost, enchanted manuscript known as Ashmole 782.

Picking up from A Discovery of Witches’ cliffhanger ending, Shadow of Night takes Diana and Matthew on a trip through time to Elizabethan London, where they are plunged into a world of spies, magic, and a coterie of Matthew’s old friends, the School of Night. As the search for Ashmole 782 deepens and Diana seeks out a witch to tutor her in magic, the net of Matthew’s past tightens around them, and they embark on a very different—and vastly more dangerous—journey.

The follow up to Discovery of Witches this second book in the All Souls Trilogy picks up right where the story left off and takes you on an exciting journey through Elizabethan England to continue Dianna’s development as a witch and her mission to find the book of life.

Buy Shadow of Night on Amazon

The Book of Life: A Novel (All Souls Trilogy, Book 3)

by Deborah Harkness

After traveling through time in Shadow of Night, the second book in Deborah Harkness’s enchanting series, historian and witch Diana Bishop and vampire scientist Matthew Clairmont return to the present to face new crises and old enemies. At Matthew’s ancestral home at Sept-Tours, they reunite with the cast of characters from A Discovery of Witches—with one significant exception. But the real threat to their future has yet to be revealed, and when it is, the search for Ashmole 782 and its missing pages takes on even more urgency. In the trilogy’s final volume, Harkness deepens her themes of power and passion, family and caring, past deeds and their present consequences. In ancestral homes and university laboratories, using ancient knowledge and modern science, from the hills of the Auvergne to the palaces of Venice and beyond, the couple, at last, learn what the witches discovered so many centuries ago.

With more than one million copies sold in the United States and appearing in thirty-eight foreign editions, A Discovery of Witches and Shadow of Night have landed on all of the major bestseller lists and garnered rave reviews from countless publications. Eagerly awaited by Harkness’s legion of fans, The Book of Life brings this superbly written series to a deeply satisfying close.

The final book in the All Souls Trilogy brought a wonderful close to the story but still left me wanting more. I am curious to see what the future has in store for fans of the world Harkness has created.

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Time’s Convert

by Deborah Harkness

On the battlefields of the American Revolution, Matthew de Clermont meets Marcus MacNeil, a young surgeon from Massachusetts, during a moment of political awakening when it seems that the world is on the brink of a brighter future. When Matthew offers him a chance at immortality and a new life free from the restraints of his puritanical upbringing, Marcus seizes the opportunity to become a vampire. But his transformation is not an easy one and the ancient traditions and responsibilities of the de Clermont family clash with Marcus’s deeply held beliefs in liberty, equality, and brotherhood.

Fast-forward to contemporary Paris, where Phoebe Taylor–the young employee at Sotheby’s whom Marcus has fallen for–is about to embark on her own journey to immortality. Though the modernized version of the process at first seems uncomplicated, the couple discovers that the challenges facing a human who wishes to be a vampire are no less formidable than they were in the eighteenth century. The shadows that Marcus believed he’d escaped centuries ago may return to haunt them both–forever.

A passionate love story and a fascinating exploration of the power of tradition and the possibilities not just for change but for revolution, Time’s Convert channels the supernatural world-building and slow-burning romance that made the All Souls Trilogy instant bestsellers to illuminate a new and vital moment in history, and a love affair that will bridge centuries.

This book was a fun way to revisit the All Souls Trilogy characters. In this book, readers are given the opportunity to dive into the backstory of a supporting character, Marcus, and experience what life would be like for someone who was made a vampire in the not too distant past.

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Who: The Method for Hiring

by Geoff Smart & Randy Street

In this instant New York Times Bestseller, Geoff Smart and Randy Street provide a simple, practical, and effective solution to what The Economist calls “the single biggest problem in business today”: unsuccessful hiring. The average hiring mistake costs a company $1.5 million or more a year and countless wasted hours. This statistic becomes even more startling when you consider that the typical hiring success rate of managers is only 50 percent.

The silver lining is that “who” problems are easily preventable. Based on more than 1,300 hours of interviews with more than 20 billionaires and 300 CEOs, Who presents Smart and Street’s A Method for Hiring. Refined through the largest research study of its kind ever undertaken, the A Method stresses fundamental elements that anyone can implement–and it has a 90 percent success rate.

Whether you’re a member of a board of directors looking for a new CEO, the owner of a small business searching for the right people to make your company grow, or a parent in need of a new babysitter, it’s all about Who. 

As someone new to the world of HR one of my biggest challenges over the past year was learning how to hire new talent effectively for the company I work for. This book was recommended to me by the company I work for’s Director of Operations. This book was a big help to me as I began to revise our current hiring process.

Buy Who: The Method for Hiring on Amazon

Little Women

by Louisa May Alcott

Grown-up Meg, tomboyish Jo, timid Beth, and precocious Amy. The four March sisters couldn’t be more different. But with their father away at war, and their mother working to support the family, they have to rely on one another. Whether they’re putting on a play, forming a secret society, or celebrating Christmas, there’s one thing they can’t help wondering: Will Father return home safely?

This easily made my top five reads of the year. I was so moved by the family’s love for one another and for their friends and neighbors. The kindness and strength shown by the characters in this book made for a perfect Christmas season read that I can foresee me revisiting year after year.

Buy Little Women on Amazon

  I have so enjoyed getting back into a reading routine, and I really look forward to continuing on in 2020.

  My Top 5 Reads of 2019

The Graveyard Book (Neil Gaiman)

Strange Practice (Vivian Shaw)

Dreadful Company (Vivian Shaw)

Grave Importance (Vivian Shaw)

Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)

  My Top 5 Reads of 2018

The Rise and Fall of D.O.D.O (Neil Stephenson & Nicole Galland)

Fahrenheit 451 (Ray Bradbury)

Jurassic Park (Michael Crichton)

Circe (Madeline Miller)

Good Omens (Terry Pratchett & Neil Gaiman)

What I Read in 2019 Last year my new year's resolution was to read more. My whole life I have been a passionate reader but I am very shy about sharing what I read with others.

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Britain's stun, after Morgan, this hazardous batsman is additionally out

Host England have done as such far in the ICC World Cup-2015 and lost just one match in the four matches. On Tuesday, he will confront Afghanistan at Old Trafford Stadium. Be that as it may, this mu Indeed, England opener Jason Ryan won't play the following two matches of the ICC World Cup-2015. They have whined of muscle strain. After the match with Afghanistan, it will be hung on 27 March. Roy had endured damage in the match against West Indies on Friday, so he didn't begin the innings. Joe Root had begun the innings.

Roy will be under the supervision of medical team

According to the ESPN report, Roy will be under the supervision of the medical team of England and the decision will be taken before the match against Australia in London. Apart from Roy, England captain Eoin Morgan was also out of the team due to injury. Them two were harmed in the last match played against the West Indies. Roy did not come to bat At their place, Joe Root began the innings with Johnny Bairstow. Rather than Roy, James Vince's

Morgan sitting out to stress over England 

Be that as it may, in the event that Morgan sits out, at that point agonizing over who will remunerate the batsman like him in the center request. On the off chance that this occurs, at that point Baiersto, Root, Ben Stokes, There will be extra weight on Jose Butler. In the event that Morgan is out, Moin Ali can come in the group. He can do well in batting and will likewise give the alternative of turn together. All things considered, after the takeoff of Roy, James Vince is viewed as picked in the last-11. Eoin Morgan will be chosen in the following 24 hours. Click the link below

ICC Cricket World Cup 2019 24nd Match Afghanistan vs England (ENG vs AFG)

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