#Honesty Hour: I fall a little bit more in love with Martin as I WRITE him. I didn't really take to him like I wanted to when I saw the movie

[smolbeandrabbles]

Get Even - Martin x Reader Drabble (Untogether)

Read by itself. Or read as a Sequel to Like You Say You Do  I’m not saying this will turn into a full fic. I am telling you I’ve thought about it...

Picture & GIF Credit @menbendelson​ ... Because, ofc

Author’s Note: You know. A sure-fire way to get me to write about a Mendo character is to talk to me about said Mendo character, right? So, y’know, now you get more Martin. Thank @3134045126 - I’ll wait. 😉

Premise: Everything about being with Martin was easy... But you should have known trying to hide this from his Ex (and your friend!) was never going to work... Disclaimer: I once again took some lyrical liberties with ‘Get Even’ by Brad Paisley. But it was worth it. Martin’s band never got names, they’re just the names of the actors that played them.

Words: 1533

Warnings: Swearing / Drinking

After how she treated you she cheated you and lied I guess you could go curl up into a ball and cry Or you could turn a heartache into sweet revenge at last 'Cause two can cheat at this game babe, And pay backs a blast Get even with her, with me You been done wrong for so long, now you're free Don't get angry, don't get filled with jealousy Get even with her, with me

If I know that girl, well now, there's one thing she can't stand She wasn't faithful in the least but, find another, and... She's going to go crazy thinking about how much she lost Your lips, your kiss, your touch, come on Let's really piss her off!

You weren't joking when you'd said you liked Martin in his overalls. You had nothing better to do today, and you weren't as work, so you were currently sitting on a bench sipping soda and watching him paint. Every brush stroke he made was sexy - God, was there ANYTHING about Martin that you didn't like!? Well, you couldn't beat the view. So that was probably a no.  You watched the muscles in his arms and back flex, as he stretched to reach the top corners, under that white T-Shirt and groaned a little. Yeah, you might have also accidentally told him you always found his white shirts sexy too... You also loved the way he would hum along to tunes. Sometimes he'd have the radio blasting, sometimes it would be songs he was performing with the band... But sometimes, just sometimes, it would be music you'd played. And that made you so happy. You leant back with a satisfied smirk. This was really living. The LA sun warming you as you sat here without a care in the world. You checked your watch. Martin took breaks with religious timing. Though, he never wore a watch himself, he always told you it was his body clock. But you'd taken notes - and you knew exactly when he'd been calling off for another break. You had 15 minutes to wander off and wander back... Where was the closest coffee shop? You got back with about two minutes to spare. Setting down his favourite coffee and a box of donuts. That ought to keep him here a little while. "Oh my god!" He laughed as he got to the table "Now, would ya look at this..." He sat and picked the coffee up "See... now... You shouldn't even be here, you should be living your life, but.... This is..." pink dusted his cheeks "I uh... Thank you..." "You're welcome! I mean it's the least I could do, right?" He took a sip with a shrug "She never did." "Yeah, well she's an idiot." He shook his head 'God, I'm sorry - I keep promisin' - I do! That I'll stop talking about her-!" "Martin... Martin-! Baby-! Don't worry about it! I get it!" It'd been a few months, and you weren't exactly sure Tara knew yet. Andrea had pretty much told you she wasn't telling her little sister. And you certainly hadn't said anything. But you knew it still hurt him. What she'd done still hurt him. He bit into a donut with a satisfied hum "See-! Why didn't we start dating sooner!?" "I'm an idiot?" You tilted your head "See, Andrea says I should have made a move the FIRST time." "Andrea was probably right. She nearly always is - Hey, maybe we should go on a double date with - what's his name?" He snapped his fingers trying to remember; "With Nick? Oh Lord. Don't get her started - she'll actually agree." He chuckled "Yeah, I know. But if she suggests it, you'll actually go!" "Are you being serious?" "Yeah - C'mon it'll be fun!" He laughed at the uncertainty on your face.  Sitting on the end of the table was your little notebook; Martin pulled it gently towards him "Ok, what have you been writing today? Andrea got you writing epic novels again has she?" "No! They're just poems!" “Uh huh - just poems..." he flicked it open "What about, me?" You flushed "NO!" Though quite a lot of them were about him, he read one and his eyes flicked to you; "You sure?" You couldn't hold his eyes "Yes!" He continued reading; then his face lit up "No! Look! Look at this...!" He pulled you from sitting next to him to sitting on his lap, which only made you blush further "Look! These are song lyrics! Look at that!" "Isn't a song just a poem?" He hummed a tune to himself, arms around you "No...! Well okay, maybe essentially but... " He got excited "Can I use this!?" You stared at him "Are you being serious?!" "Yeah! Baby, yeah! Can I?" "Be my guest!" You giggled "No, Martin! C'mon - really?" He pulled you in closer and kissed you gently "Yes...! Those lines are gorgeous. Let me use them! I beg you!" You shook your head with a smile; "You don't have to beg me!" and you kissed him again. Soon enough you were full blown making out on the park bench and literally did not have a care in the world about who saw. Eventually Martin pulled away, but still gave you butterfly kisses between words "Now I'd love to stay and make out with you all day, sweetheart, but - That wall isn't gonna paint itself!" He slid you back onto the bench "Just keep sitting here and looking pretty. Ok?” He gave a cheeky wink “Write some more lines. It’s good. It's real good." You gave a smirk as he stole one last kiss; "Aw! I'd rather watch you!" He laughed; "You are literally watching paint dry for fun Y/N!" "NO!" You called after him "I'm watching you look all sexy in that White T!" ** He was obviously too excited about your 'lyrics' because whilst driving home he called up his band and decided they needed to book another gig. Which made you beyond excited. Also, he wasn't kidding about Andrea, because after he'd hung up on them he called her with his double-date suggestion. Which she screamed in delight and eagerly accepted. You didn't think he was serious, so you had to try to fight to grab the phone off him; until he swerved the car and you thought you better give up on that idea.

 Which is why a couple of weeks later you were sitting with Andrea and the band drinking after yet another successful gig. “So hang on – when are we all going on a date!?” Andrea elbowed you in the ribs and you covered your face “NO-! Don’t start him off again!” Martin laughed “YES! Thank you! Andrea! I’m suggesting next week!” “Martin---!” you almost wailed, placing your head on the table and leaving the others howling with laughter. “Next week is great Martin, we’ll sort the details and drag her along!” They clinked beer bottles as she put an arm around your shoulders. Eventually you were done whining and looked up. Martin brushed his hair off his face and leant back on his chair; “MAN! What a gig!” “I’ll say! You guys killed it again!” “Look we’ll take what we can get from the two best looking girls at the gig!” Adam also rocked back on his chair with a smirk. “Oh-! Okay! Hang on a minute! There are no single ladies here!” You laughed “Just one thing-!” You looked to Martin, and the way you bit your lip let him know you were about to make some remark about something he’d done wrong. But you couldn’t get it out without giggling “Where was your rhythm? Like – what was…? What!?” “OHHHH----!!” Daniel and Michael, the other members of his band cracked up. “Shots FIRED!” Martin gave a shrug; “Are you saying I can’t dance?” “That’s not what I said!” “You’re saying I can’t dance.” “No Martin-!” He put his bottle down and stood, holding out his hand “Come on, prove it.” “What!? NO!” “Come on…” He walked around the table to you “I didn’t say-!” He pulled your seat back and picked you up, causing you to shriek, laughing as he dragged you to the dancefloor.  “Martin! Stop!! Put me down!!”

He did so, taking you hand and pulling you into him. Well, you guessed you pretty much asked for it. His band mates and Andrea (some friend she was!) were hollering and whistling at you, which only made him laugh. “See what you get yourself into when you open that mouth of yours?!” You tipped your head and gave him a seductive little smirk; “Guess there are other things I could be doing with my mouth…” He leant back slightly with a grin and a raised eyebrow; “Woah! Down girl. Not on a dancefloor.” “Mmm I dunno…” You wound your arms around his neck, and leaning closer to you, he brushed his lips with yours. The cheering from the corner of the room only increased – causing Martin to raise his hand in a clear, f**k you!, wrapping his other arm around your waist. Suddenly he stopped kissing you, and pulled back, his eyes went wide and he wasn’t looking at you. You turned; oh sh*t! Standing on the other side of the bar was none other than Tara. And by the look on her face she’d witnessed far too much. He looked from her to you, but he knew where he stood, his arm was still around your waist. He took back the gap he’d created and kissed your hair gently, making you turn back to him. Martin didn’t have to say anything he just shook his head, before kissing you again. He entwined his fingers with yours, refusing to let you go as he pulled you away from her. Tara had her chance, he was all yours now.

---

@stcphstrange​ @beany-ben @shantellorraine @alotofrandomfangirling @mfolcore  I know you didn’t ask to be tagged - but for your continued interest in Martin I thought I would let you know ❤😘

[driverwaltz]

Precipitate

Manager!Kylo Ren x Singer!Reader

Summary: Taking up late night gigs downtown at the Starlight Lounge was always just a way to earn some extra cash. Most days you’d bartend or bus tables, but on some special days your boss, Michael, would let you act as the live music feature of the night. It was one of those nights when you met him. The dark brooding man in the corner of the dimly lit bar caught your eye and promised opportunity, but nothing could have hinted towards what he had planned for the future.

Rating: Mature. This part is tame though.

Warnings: Unfair power dynamics, age gap, eventual smut, dub-con, drug use, slow burn

Words Count: 1.7K (Ik I went overboard)

Notes: This is my first ever fanfic so pls be nice 🥺. I took the inspiration for this from a couple of songs by the band Interpol and might make a playlist to go along with each chapter. If you guys have any suggestions or constructive criticism on my writing it’d be much appreciated (and needed lol). Also, this moves REALLY slowly in the beginning, but I promise I’ll start to pick up the pace.

Part 1: Meeting place

It broke again.

The only thing that alerted me this time was Michael's voice, booming from the back end of the bar from the kitchen to where I stood near the glassware.

"The third fuckin' time this month that I gotta replace the damn martini glasses 'cause of that hunk-of-shit washer!"

It's an easy fix, he could just replace that "hunk-of-shit" once, and that way he could spare us $65 every time a set of glasses break. It would also save the poor man on the end of the line every time he calls the distributor, demanding a new dozen and a discount. I could remind him this was an option again, but I know better. No matter what I say, I know his pride will go against any sense of better judgment. So, I stay quiet. Let him go on his little tirade while I do what he pays me to do: Act sweet to an array of old drunkards who plop themselves down on the same barstools every Saturday night. After they all get comfy, I make a point to ask about their wives and how their bitch of a boss made them work overtime. At the same time, I whip up concoctions of tequila, salt, and lime for them to hurriedly gulp down and offer me gratitude. However, it's only ever through words, never an extra 15% on the tab.

Kindness in strangers. That's what I was taught. Mama kept a stack of old scripts in a wicker basket near her nightstand, and I remember rummaging through them on static summer days when it was too hot to go outside. Mama never believed in failures. She'd always tell me, "you're constantly learning and improving. Never failing, just falling — stagnant." I like to believe that's true, but I was also raised to be honest. And, In all honesty, I can't deny that Mama was a failure. She moved out to California from Georgia without telling a soul the night she turned 17. She had nothing but her new hand-me-down car, some spare cash she got from waitressing, and a small suitcase full of clothes and essentials. Her dream was to become a performer, an actress, a starlet of her generation. She tried. I know she did, but things don't work out for a reason. So, I too, was born and raised in Georgia. However, unlike how Grandman brought up Mama, I was raised off stories of Mama's journey to Tinsel Town and the people she met rather than Grimms' Fairytales. I learned how to fall asleep to softly hummed show tunes rather than lullabies. Mama never wanted to buy new children's books; instead, she would recite one of her scripts to me. When I got a bit older, I fell in love with The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams, and that's when Mama told me: "Always depend on the kindness of strangers."

I blame Mama. I believe personality is a sort of genetic trait, and I definitely got all of that from Mama. I can never say no to Michael. Not because he scares me or that I'm in full agreeance with him all the time, but whenever the word threatens to leave me lips, it chokes me. Then, I swallow it back down and resume whatever I was doing. No is never an option. It was never an option in the schoolyard or in the house, and especially not during my music classes. Mama wanted me to continue whatever legacy she had crafted for herself, and much to her disappointment, I was not much of a talker, but I was a hummer. So, Mama forced me to turn my quiet hums into fully supported singing. That was the start of it all. I took up guitar after that, and stole my dad's old records and tried to replicate what I would hear. I guess that's how I started writing music, as for what I did with that music...

"(y/n), Lucy said she comin' to take o'er you're shift in a few. If you want, you can clock out for tonight," Michael grumbled from the back in a shout.

"It's only midnight. I've only been working for about four hours, and I need the money this month, so I'm okay working for a little bit more. I can help you out in the back if you'd like," I responded. I really did need the money though, Martin's been on my ass about my lease.

Michael peered at me through the kitchen doorframe for a second, "You got your guitar in your car?"

"Yeah."

"You up to play a few songs tonight? We've got a bit more business tonight."

I felt the muscles in my face pull up and tighten against my will. I hate to admit that sometimes Michael can make me smile, and he was right. I turned to the entrance and slowly, one-by-one, people started coming in and settling down.

"Yes, sir! I'll bring it out." I exclaimed while grabbing my keys from behind the counter and making my way out to my car parked at the back.

After retrieving my case from the trunk, I quickly checked my reflection on the left-hand mirror and smoothed out my hair and touched up my lipstick. I saw a man pass by through the corner and make his way into the bar. I better make tips tonight doing this.

I waltzed back into the bar and headed for the small stage in the front. It's not really a stage more than it's a glorified black stool, but I like to think it's charming and adds character. You know, mask up the patheticness of it all. I plugged in my Fender to the worn-out amps and strummed to make sure it was in tune. There were a lot of people tonight. Well, a lot more than usual, at least. Quickly, I scanned the room for comforting faces to focus on and calm my nerves. Most of our customers were gruff men, so this trick usually didn't work, but tonight was different. In the corner by a little bust made by a local artist sat a man with thick black hair. He was by no means soft. Much like the patrons, he harbored a hard look on his face, but he struck me differently. It was intense and cold. Georgia's a hot place, so I didn't mind his gaze. It was cooling and made me freeze over.

I don't know why, but I want to impress him. Plus, looking down, I saw he was wearing a polished pair of dress shoes, so I assume he's got some money on him, maybe he'll spare me a tip. I'll just play a cover. Can't go wrong with a cover.

My fingers dragged across the guitar strings and drew out the alternating chords of D7 and Am in a back and forth pattern.

"It was the third of June, another sleepy, dusty Delta day... Mama said she got some news this mornin' from Choctaw Ridge... She said Billie Joe McAllister jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge..."

Bobbie Gentry was one of dad's favorites. I know the country wasn't a popular choice for many people, but this is the South, and Ode to Billie Joe is always a classic, and I think the dreariness of the song perfectly compliments the tone of the bar.

I played a set and earned a couple of measly tips from it. Nothing I could complain about, I guess. It was nearly 1 am, and I was getting tired. Overtime is only worth so much, so I decided it was best to go back home. I packed up my guitar and walked to the bar counter to ask Lucy to clock for me, but before I could even rest my case against the counter, I felt a man slide into the seat next to me.

"You've gotta nice voice," he drawled out while staring at the wall in front of him.

"Thank you. I perform here almost every week."

"Is that right?"

"Yeah..." I couldn't really think of how I could continue this conversation. And, trust me, I really want to. The man was wearing a black button-up shirt, grey trousers, and that impressive pair of dress shoes. His hair was long and gelled back, and his profile was exquisite. He looked strong, and his voice was deep and rich like marmalade.

"You could work on that guitar a little bit," he deadpanned as he took a swig of whiskey. I looked at him even more intensely then and scoffed.

"Really? Can you do better?"

"I never said that. I just think, with a voice like that, the guitar should match up," he said with a playful glint in his voice as he finally turned his head towards me.

Now, I really don't know how to continue this conversation.

"Alright, you caught me. I'm not that great at the guitar, but hey, I'm a bar singer, not Paul McCartney, or something," I laughed out. He smiled, and then I felt all the blood in my body rush to my cheeks, it's a miracle I didn't fall flat on my face.

"I guess I was just expecting more," he said.

"Well, I didn't promise you anything, did I?"

He looked like he was in his late 20s, probably.

"No. No, you didn't. But, maybe you could start... for next time."

"That depends. Are you gonna give me a tip."

"Yes. When I think you deserve it," he said as his face fell flat and his voice authoritative in an odd way.

"Well, I'll probably be here next Saturday so you can decide then."

"Will do," he smirked.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Kylo," he replied in a gentle voice as he once again held his glass of whiskey up. He then raised his eyebrow, and I knew he wanted an answer.

"(y/n)."

He gulped down his whiskey, turned to me, and smiled. I wanted to say something more, I had to say something, but he stopped me before I could by getting up and walking towards the door.

"I gotta be somewhere tomorrow, doll. I'm expecting a show on Saturday," he exclaimed as he stepped out the bar.

"Don't worry... I can put on a show."

He grinned one final time before escaping out of the bar, leaving me alone with his empty cup of whiskey and a smile that doesn't leave my face the entire night.

[goldensfm]

              *    ╰     𝐡𝐢   𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲   𝐥𝐮𝐯𝐬   𝐚𝐧𝐝   𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐠   𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐬    ,   i’m   your   resident   crackhead   steven   forced   out   of   early   writing   retirement   by   miss   rona   but   i   ain’t   complainin   !    🤡    i’m   here   to   bring   you   a   decidedly   non   -   crackheaded   muse   utilizing   the   absolute   goddess   that   is   zendaya   .   like   got   DAMN   𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤   at   her   !   i’m   swimming   with   muse   for   lex   so   i   am   hoping   my   control   freak   ice   queen   offers   some   sort   of   justice   —   i   cant   wait   to   meet   you   all   and   love   you   down   endlessly   !   if   you   could   spare   a   𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭   for   my   validation   ,   i’ll   offer   you   all   my   best   plots   in   return   !   💖

𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕

     ❛   ✶   (   ZENDAYA  ,   CIS   -   FEMALE   ,   SHE   /   HER   )   spotted   !     ALEXANDRIA   ‘   LEX    ’   GOLDMAN   was   spotted   singing   along   to   BOSS   BITCH   by   DOJA   CAT   in   hilton   grove.   you’ve   heard   of   them   right   ?     they   are   a   TWENTY   -   TWO   year   old   ACTRESS   &   ENTREPRENEUR   who   has   already   amassed   a   net   worth   of   $31M.   you   should   really   follow   them   on   insta   @GOLDEN ,   they’re   about   to   hit   39.1M   followers.        the   tabloids   have   been   calling   them   the   EXECUTIVE   because   they   are   known   for   being   +   PURPOSEFUL   but   also   a   bit   -   AUSTERE.  —   ooc   info   (   steven   .   21   .   pst   .   she   /   her   /   they   /  them   .  )

𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒔

full   name   :      alexandria   (   defender   of   man   )   rochelle   (   little   rock   )   goldman   (   little   golden   one   ) nicknames   :       primarily   goes   by   lex   .   lexie   ,   xan   on   occasion   ,   and   gold   /   goldie   . birthday   &      age   :      september   3rd   /   22   years   old zodiac   :      virgo gender   &   pronouns   :      cis  -  female  ,  she   /   her   /   hers orientation   :       openly   bisexual nationality   :      american ethnicity   :       mixed   race   —   african  -  american   ,   german   ,   irish   ,   english   ,   scottish occupation   :       former   beauty   pageant   competitor   and   2016’s   miss   teen   usa   ,   current   film   and   television   actress   ,   model   ,   business   entrepreneur   ,   and   activist   .   recognized   for   :      starring   in   hbo’s   television   series   euphoria   ,   being   the   first   openly   queer   representative   for   the   usa   in   the   pageant   circuit   ,   her   advocacy   for   feminism   and   criminal   justice   reform   ,   a   bustling   social   media   page   ,   being   one   of   forbes   2019′s   top   30   under   30   . char . inspos  :    meredith  grey  from  grey’s  anatomy   ,   spencer   hastings   from   pretty   little   liars   ,   hermione   granger   from   harry   potter   ,   meghan   markle     ,   angela   martin   from   the   office   ,   alex   cabot   from   law   and   order   svu   ,   and   more   than   anything   ,   claire   from   fleabag   .     𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧   𝐢𝐟   𝐮   𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐦   𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠   𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞   ,   𝐢   𝐛𝐞𝐠   𝐨𝐟   𝐮   𝐭𝐨   𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡   𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬   𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨   𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭   𝐭𝐨   𝐠𝐞𝐭   𝐥𝐞𝐱’𝐬   𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞   𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝   𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨   𝟑   𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬   . tropes   :   control   freak   ,   defrosting   the   ice   queen   ,   perpetual   frowner   ,   did   you   think   i   can’t   feel   ?   ,   hidden   depths   ,   stepford   smiler   . aesthetics :    an  intellect  that  remembers  everything    ;    wild  caramel  curls  with  just  enough  composure  to  seem  effortless    ;    a  fear  of  failure   more  crippling  than  life  itself    ;    the  smell  of  fresh  linen  and  lavender     ;     a  color - coded  itinerary     ;     a  perfectly  choreographed  interaction  ,  each  time    ;    lilac  power - suits  and  an  immaculate  composure    ;     unspoken  mommy  issues    ;    tenebrous  ,  intent gazes  swimming  with  the  resonance  of  unspoken  thoughts   ;    ‘ don’t  touch  me  please ‘  syndrome    ;    kicking  out  hookups  before  you  both  fall  asleep    ;    ordering  the  same  thing  at  a  restaurant  ,  every  time    ;    flinching  at  ‘ i love you’s ’    ;    drafting  business  emails  at  the  club     ;    an  admiration  of  atlas  ,  with  the  world’s  weight  upon  your   shoulders .

𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚

               born   the   sole   continuance   of   the   goldman   name   to   a   mother   whose   pregnancy   was   all   but   a   career   death  -  sentence   ,   lex   bore   the   weight   of   the   world’s   expectations   on   graceful   shoulders   from   the   moment   she   came   into   the   light   .   lieutenant   olivia   goldman   ,   head   of   the   manhattan   police   department   ,   can   deny   the   salacious   accused   affair   with   the   district   attorney   until   she’s   blue   in   the   face   but   can’t   deny   the   consequence   of   their   tryst   ,   alexandria   being   a   painful   reminder   of   losing   nearly   all   her   mother’s   years   of   hard   work   while   her   father   simply   denied   her   existence   and   lived   none   the   more   guilted   .      from   the   start   ,   the   odds   were   stacked   against   the   goldman   progeny   ,      pushing   perfection   as   her   only   claim   to   some   semblance   of   attention   from   liutenant   goldman   .

             as   a   mixed   race   child   to   a   white   unwed   mother   in   law   enforcement   ,   working   80   hours   weeks   and   having   spent   years   building   her   career   ,   there   was   little   lex   saw   of   her   mother   that   wasn’t   something   resembling   exhaustion   or   utter   disinterest   .   this   forces   her   to   grow   independent   at   an   astounding   pace   ,   keeping   to   herself   as   to   not   bother   her   mother   with   her   own   whims   or   desires   .   at   12   ,   her   mother   is   courted   by   an   award   -   winning   director   who   requests   her   guidance   on   a   police   film   he’s   submitting   —   she   refuses   to   advise   on   the   film   ,   but   goes   to   dinner   with   him   as   a   courtesy   ,   and   they’re   married   a   year   later   in   a   lavish   hamptons   wedding   in   the   summer   .   rudy   delano   is   a   world -renowned   director   along   the   likes   of   steven   spielberg   ,   and   takes   to   lex   like   she   were   his   own   daughter   .   as   if   to   balance   out   olivia’s   coldness   and   detachment ,   he   showers   lex   in   adoration   and   support   ,   encouraging   her   to   pursue   her   interests   of   pageantry   when   she   voices   them   following   her   7th   grade   year   .  

              considering   a   lifetime   spent   nitpicking   and   pushing   her   own   facade   of   complete   calculation   ,   she   takes   the   pageantry   world   by   storm   and   it   seems   the   rest   of   her   life   falls   into   place   .   a   perfectionist   in   every   sense   ,   she   maintains   nothing   short   of   flawlessness   throughout   high   school   (   taking   on   student   council   co-president   ,   heading   several   clubs   ,   and   one   of   four   school   valedictorians   )   and   goes   on   to   compete   in   the   most   elite   of   pageantry   circuits   .   her   advocacy   for   marginalized   populations   was   a   major   platform   and   propelled   her   to   miss   teen   new   york   and   soon   after   ,   miss   teen   usa   .   in   the   live   aired   interview   segment   ,   perhaps   among   the   most   important   moments   of   her   life   ,   lex   makes   a   rare   slip   and   accidentally   comes   out   as   bisexual   when   asked   about   the   LGBTQ+   mental   health   crisis   in   her   home   state   of   new   york   .   this   leads   to   lex   becoming   the   first   openly   queer   miss   teen   usa   ,   and   would   have   likely   fared   well   if   she   were   to   have   continued   ;   despite   its   progressions   ,   the   pageant   world   of   sponsorships   seems   to   lag   behind  ,   and   the   ‘   controversy   ’    of   her   coming   out   led   to   her   leaving   the   pageant   world   for   good   .   

              on   her   own   two   wobbly   feet   ,   she   continues   with   her   advocacy   and   finds   herself   excelling   in   the   business   element   of   it   all   ,   going   on   to   obtain   her   business   degree   from   columbia   while   taking   on   the   big   screen   in   a   blossoming   film   career   at   the   encouragement   of   her   step   father   .   she   shoots   to   stardom   upon   the   release   of   euphoria   ,   paired   with   a   strong   social   media   presence   ,   a   thriving   modeling   career   ,   and   a   brand   that   becomes   recognized   as   a   household   name   synonymous   with   advocacy   and   entrepreneurship   .

𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

              perhaps   lex’s   most   notable   quality   is   being   driven   by   an   unyielding   fear   of   failure   and   mediocrity   .   there   is   no   task   small   enough   that   lex   will   not   accomplish   to   the   best   of   her   execution   ,   and   if   she   can’t   ensure   perfection   ,   she   will   refuse   to   give   it   an   attempt   at   all   .   this   all   or   nothing   attitude   stems   from   an   obscene   obsession   with   control   and   remaining   in   control   ,   something   those   around   her   are   all   too   aware   of   .  

              despite   a   rather   charming   and   gregarious   disposition   on   the   red   carpet   ,   many   will   note   that   lex   is   incredibly   reserved   when   meeting   her   in   real   life   .   the   pageantry   training   has   kicked   in   to   give   her   a   facade   to   push   when   she’s   in   the   spotlight   ,   though   her   true   disposition   is   much   less   play   and   much   more   work   .   she’s   stoic   and   serious   ,   knowing   just   what   to   say   at   what   time   to   continue   the   narrative   that   she   is   completely   in   control   .   cool   and   calculated   ,   her   affect   is   usually   stern   and   unwilling   to   reflect   any   sentiment   of   softness   or   goofiness   —   many   business   associates   note   her   absolute   maturity   and   rationality   even   at   the   tender   age   of   22   .   her   energy   ,   as   subdued   as   it   may   be   ,   commands   the   room   with   a   power   of   self-assuredness   that   only   stems   from   a   confidence   rooted   in   something   to   back   it   up   .   she’s   an   elderly   woman   in   a   millennial’s   body   ,   and   this   tends   to   show   in   her   dry   wit   humor   ,   relative   moodiness   ,   and   general   propensity   for   wanting   things   done   exclusively   her   way   .

              lex’s   intellect   has   always   been   a   strong   suit   of   hers   ,   a   photographic   memory   that   allowed   her   to   glide   through   school   with   the   least   of   struggles   .   astute   and   well   -   spoken   ,   monotone   and   unlikely   to   crack   in   her   stony   temperament   ,   she’s   a   force   of   nature   to   be   well   reckoned   with   .   luckily   ,   lex   shows   little   to   no   interest   in   engaging   with   petty   drama   and   tends   to   keep   in   her   own   lane   ,   losing   interest   nearly   immediately   in   the   mindless   pettiness   some   of   her   friends   wrap   themselves   up   in   .   rational   ,   arguably   to   a   fault   ,   lex   has   a   bad   habit   of   censoring   herself   and   limiting   her   own   commentary   when   in   the   company   of   anyone   she   needs   to   maintain   her   reputation   with  ;  close   friends   ,   on   the   other   hand   ,   will   easily   characterize   her   as   blunt   and   straightforward   ,   almost   too   aggressive   with   her   honesty   for   her   own   good   .   though   she’d   rarely   voice   it   ,   she   has   an   undeniable   superiority   complex   stemming   from   a   recognition   that   whatever   she   does   ,   she’s   incredibly   good   at   (   ignoring   her   unwillingness   to   step   out   and   try   anything   outside   her   comfort   zone   .   )

              this   is   the   curious   dichotomy   of   alexandria   goldman   ,   considering   one   of   her   most   notable   flaws   is   her   unwillingness   to   invest   .   despite   being   perhaps   overly   honest   ,   the   moment   a   conversation   (   or   relationship   )   runs   the   risk   of   becoming   too   emotionally   risky   ,   she   shuts   down   .   flames   have   been   ghosted   ,   relationships   have   been   ended   ,   and   friendships   have   been   cut   off   simply   because   lex   deemed   them   to   be   a   danger   to   her   mission   of   remaining   in   complete   control   of   herself   and   her   life   .   the   select   few   that   have   plowed   through   lex’s   rather   prickly   initial   interactions   have   earned   themselves   a   friend   forged   from   gold   ,   loyal   to   a   fault   and   ready   to   drop   anything   at   a   wind’s   blow   to   aide   those   she   loves   most   .   defensive   and   ornery   ,   the   pageant   girl   facade   soon   blows   over   to   reveal   an   anal   retentive   ,   emotionally   stunted   grandmother   who   loses   her   lid   over   the   most   minute   of   inconveniences   if   they   step   out   of   her   pre-established   plans   and   routines   .

              hiding   beneath   her   layers   of   fake   smiling   at   redundant   questions   ,   unapproachable   hostility   and   being   an   otherwise   unmeltable   ice   queen   ,   lex   harbors   a   deep   intensity   that   overcomes   her   when   allowed   to   reign   (   and   very   rarely   is   allowed   to   reign   )   .   she   does   not   invest   in   small   doses   and   despite   the   relative   unlikelihood   of   her   allowing   a   distraction   such   as   a   relationship   ,   the   few   she’s   had   have   been   intense   whirlwinds   led   by   lex’s   own   inability   to   limit   herself   —   she’s   all   ,   or   she’s   nothing   ,   but   nowhere   in   the   middle   .

[cathygeha]

REVIEW:

This Earl of Mine by Kate Bateman

Bow Street Bachelors #1

Reading the book description I was taken back to reading a book my father shared with me – a book in which a woman in need of a husband also went to a prison to find a condemned man to marry. The two books diverged from there though neither husband actually bit the dust by the end of the book they starred in. Both men were definitely more than the bride expected and both were fallen in love with by their wives before the end of the stories.

In this book we have wealthy Georgiana “Georgie” Caversteed being hounded by despicable cousin Josiah. He wants her money and isn’t planning to take no for an answer. Thus, the reason for the marriage of convenience. Georgie has plenty of money but no desire to wed the men in the ton that she has met already. There was a frisson of interest when Georgie met Benedict “Ben” Wylde but she realized that it was NOT real since...he was a dirty prisoner...until she experienced the same feeling when she ran into Benedict at a ball the next time.

This book had the two falling for one another slowly while they also spent time trying to solve a case Benedict and his friends were working on for Bow Street. There is a side story of Georgie’s sister Juliet and Simeon and the lead into the idea that either Seb or Alex, Benedict’s friends, will get their stories in books to come. The book did not stand out to me as something new or different but it was an enjoyable way to spend the day.

Did I enjoy this book? Yes

Would I read more in the series? Yes

Thank you to NetGalley and St. Martin’s Paperbacks for the ARC – This is my honest review.

3-4 Stars

Book-buy link: https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250305961

SUMMARY:

Introducing the Bow Street Bachelors—men who work undercover for London’s first official police force—and the women they serve to protect. . .and wed?

Shipping heiress Georgiana Caversteed is done with men who covet her purse more than her person. Even worse than the ton’s lecherous fortune hunters, however, is the cruel cousin determined to force Georgie into marriage. If only she could find a way to be . . . widowed? Georgie hatches a madcap scheme to wed a condemned criminal before he’s set to be executed. All she has to do is find an eligible bachelor in prison to marry her, and she’ll be free. What could possibly go wrong?

Benedict William Henry Wylde, scapegrace second son of the late Earl of Morcott and well-known rake, is in Newgate prison undercover, working for Bow Street. Georgie doesn’t realize who he is when she marries him—and she most certainly never expects to bump into her very-much-alive, and very handsome, husband of convenience at a society gathering weeks later. Soon Wylde finds himself courting his own wife, hoping to win her heart since he already has her hand. But how can this seductive rogue convince brazen, beautiful Georgie that he wants to be together…until actual death do they part?

EXCERPT:

Chapter 1.

London, March 1816.

There were worse places to find a husband than Newgate Prison.

Of course there were.

It was just that, at present, Georgie couldn’t think of any.

“Georgiana Caversteed, this is a terrible idea.” Georgie frowned at her burly companion, Pieter Smit,

as the nondescript carriage he’d summoned to convey them to London’s most notorious jail rocked to a halt on the cobbled street. The salt-weathered Dutchman always used her full name whenever he disapproved of some- thing she was doing. Which was often.

“Your father would turn in his watery grave if he knew what you were about.”

That was undoubtedly true. Until three days ago, en- listing a husband from amongst the ranks of London’s most dangerous criminals had not featured prominently on her list of life goals. But desperate times called for des- perate measures. Or, in this case, for a desperate felon about to be hanged. A felon she would marry before the night was through.

Georgie peered out into the rain-drizzled street, then up, up the near-windowless walls. They rose into the mist, five stories high, a vast expanse of brickwork, bleak and unpromising. A church bell tolled somewhere in the darkness, a forlorn clang like a death knell. Her stomach knotted with a grim sense of foreboding.

Was she really going to go through with this? It had seemed a good plan, in the safety of Grosvenor Square. The perfect way to thwart Cousin Josiah once and for all. She stepped from the carriage, ducked her head against the rain, and followed Pieter under a vast arched gate. Her heart hammered at the audacity of what she planned. They’d taken the same route as condemned prisoners on the way to Tyburn tree, only in reverse. West to east, from the rarefied social strata of Mayfair through gradu- ally rougher and bleaker neighborhoods, Holborn and St. Giles, to this miserable place where the dregs of humanity had been incarcerated. Georgie felt as if she were nearing her own execution.

She shook off the pervasive aura of doom and straight- ened her spine. This was her choice. However unpalat- able the next few minutes might be, the alternative was far worse. Better a temporary marriage to a murderous, unwashed criminal than a lifetime of misery with Josiah. They crossed the deserted outer courtyard, and Georgie cleared her throat, trying not to inhale the foul-smelling air that seeped from the very pores of the building. “You have it all arranged? They are expecting us?”

Pieter nodded. “Aye. I’ve greased the wheels with yer blunt, my girl. The proctor and the ordinary are both bent as copper shillings. Used to having their palms greased, those two, the greedy bastards.”

Her father’s right-hand man had never minced words

in front of her, and Georgie appreciated his bluntness. So few people in the ton ever said what they really meant. Pieter’s honesty was refreshing. He’d been her father’s man for twenty years before she’d even been born. A case of mumps had prevented him from accompanying Wil- liam Caversteed on his last, fateful voyage, and Georgie had often thought that if Pieter had been with her father, maybe he’d still be alive. Little things like squalls, ship- wrecks, and attacks from Barbary pirates would be mere inconveniences to a man like Pieter Smit.

In the five years since Papa’s death, Pieter’s steadfast loyalty had been dedicated to William’s daughters, and Georgie loved the gruff, hulking manservant like a second father. He would see her through this madcap scheme— even if he disapproved.

She tugged the hood of her cloak down to stave off the drizzle. This place was filled with murderers, highway- men, forgers, and thieves. Poor wretches slated to die, or those “lucky” few whose sentences had been commuted to transportation. Yet in her own way, she was equally desperate.

“You are sure that this man is to be hanged tomorrow?” Pieter nodded grimly as he rapped on a wooden door.

“I am. A low sort he is, by all accounts.”

She shouldn’t ask, didn’t want to know too much about the man whose name she was purchasing. A man whose death would spell her own freedom. She would be wed and widowed within twenty-four hours.

From This Earl of Mine by Kate Bateman. Copyright © 2019 by the author and reprinted by permission of St. Martin’s Publishing Group.

Author Bio:

Kate Bateman, (also writing as K. C. Bateman), is the #1 bestselling author of historical romances, including her RITA® nominated Renaissance romp, The Devil To Pay, and the novels in the Secrets & Spies series To Steal a Heart, A Raven’s Heart, and A Counterfeit Heart. When not writing novels that feature feisty, intelligent heroines and sexy, snarky heroes you want to both strangle and kiss, Kate works as a fine art appraiser and on-screen antiques expert for several popular TV shows in the UK. She splits her time between Illinois and her native England. Follow her on Twitter to learn more.

This Earl of Mine Blog Tour Q&A

Q: What inspired you to write This Earl of Mine?

A: Most of my books are inspired by real historical events, but for the adventure subplot in This Earl of Mine I was looking up something completely different, fell down a research rabbit hole, and stumbled upon an outlandish plot to rescue Napoleon from exile on Saint Helena using a submarine! I’d had no idea submersibles were even in use in the Regency, but a little digging soon revealed a tale far stranger than fiction—with plenty of smugglers, spies, and underhand skullduggery thrown in. Of course, then my writer brain couldn’t help but wonder WHAT IF . . .?

What if someone loyal to Napoleon stole the plans for the submarine from the Admiralty? And what if London’s fledgling police force, The Bow Street Runners, were tasked with finding the vessel and foiling the scheme?

The main plot, of course, is the romantic one between shipping heiress Georgie Caversteed and Bow Street Runner Benedict Wylde. They try to piece together the clues, while trying to ignore the inconvenient attraction that sparks between them. (Spoiler alert: they succeed at the former, and fail miserably at the latter!)

Q: Is there one thing you would like readers to take away from this story?

A: You mean apart from a new appreciation of early19th century submarine development?! Why, yes! I firmly believe in happy-ever-afters for everyone, and while none of my characters may be perfect, they’re certainly perfect for each other. A successful romance should be a true partnership between equals, with love, respect, humor, and kindness. I hope that’s what readers see develop between Georgie and Benedict.

Q: Where do you go or what resources do you use to make sure your novels are historically correct? 

A: I have quite a bit of overall historical knowledge from my life as an antiques appraiser and auctioneer; I’ve handled plenty of Regency-era artifacts, like scent bottles, reticules, clothes, letters, furniture etc. And I’ve visited (and lived in) plenty of historic houses when I lived in England. So I have a pretty good idea what that world is like when I’m describing it. I do lots of random research online too, though. I suspect I’m on a secret CIA watchlist because of my weird internet browsing history, which currently includes such gems as: ‘does Prussic acid smell like almonds?’ ‘18th century jewel heists,’ and ‘chloroform, first use.’

Q: Did you learn anything surprising while researching for this novel?

A: Apart from the crazy submarine plot, I found out what the chapel of Newgate prison looked like in 1816, discovered more about the founding of London’s first true police force, the Bow Street Runners, and found a new book boyfriend in the wonderfully roguish Benedict Wylde!

Q: Describe the hero and heroine of This Earl of Mine in three words each.

A: Georgie is resourceful, determined, and curious. Benedict is amusing, loyal and scoundrelly!

Q: What was the hardest scene to write in This Earl of Mine? Your favorite?

A: My favorite scene was the sexy banter between Benedict and Georgie as they listen to the terrible poetry written by Juliet’s fiancé. Almost every sentence is a double entendre, and Benedict is shameless in trying to say something utterly inappropriate to make Georgie laugh, and I just giggle every time I think of it. I hope readers can feel the ridiculously flirtatious, slow-burn teasing in that scene. Yum!

The hardest was the sexy scene inside the tiny submarine. It’s a confined space, and I had to think about the technicalities of which body part was where, and whether they had enough space to do the scandalous things I wanted them to do. (Of course they did!)

Q: Why do you write historical romance? 

A: Because it can be total escapism. A reader can travel back in time to a different world and encounter situations that just don’t happen today. As a writer I like the challenge presented by the historical parameters; lots of great conflicts arise because of social, cultural, or economic factors. Plus, there are so many real historical adventures out there just waiting to be discovered. . .

Q: Is there another particular author that inspires you or that you enjoy reading? 

A: SO MANY AUTHORS! Laura Kinsale, Connie Brockway (As you Desire is a favorite), Loretta Chase, Judith McNaught, Anne Stuart, Joanna Bourne, Tessa Dare, Eloisa James, Suzan Elizabeth Philips, Julie Garwood, Galen Foley, Kerrigan Byrne, Julia Quinn, Beverly Jenkins, Alyssa Cole, Joanna Shupe, Johanna Lindsey, J.R Ward, Janet Evanovich, Georgette Heyer, Mary Renault, Jane Austen, E.M Forster, Leo Tolstoy, P.G. Wodehouse, Antoine de Saint Exupery, Jean M. Auel, Gabriel Garcia Marquez,  . . . Ok. I’ll stop now. But there are plenty more.

Q: What’s next for the Bow Street Bachelors?

A: Two more books! Those bad boys Alex Harland and Sebastien Wolff each get their own adventure and I can’t wait for everyone to read them! Alex meets his match in half-French jewel thief Emmy Danvers –AKA The Nightjar­– in To Catch an Earl, (Bow Street Bachelors #2). And Seb gets a sexy cat-and-mouse game of his own when he’s forced to protect the infuriating Anya Denisova – a feisty Russian Princess who’s faked her own death in The Princess and The Rogue, (Bow Street Bachelors #3).

Q: Is there anything else you’d like to add?

A: Only that if you haven’t already preordered This Earl Of Mine, the paperback is currently at a special preorder price of $6.79, so snap it up in time for the release day, October 29th! Happy reading everyone!

Book-buy link: https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250305961