#a genius bit Dr Morton

[ducksarebloodthirstylittlebeasts]

On recursive reference

[perereiii]

hertz:

rosemary (5), sage (5), lemon balm (3)

the duo:

sweet majoram (4), sweet woodruff (3), sorrel (5)

Hertz:

Rosemary: What impression does your OC leave upon others? How are they generally remembered by those who have met them? Is this how they would actually want to be remembered?

“He said this was the way genius happened… With a little help from a friend.” Take Hitler, for a short example. While the NSDAP was active in the 20s, it gained significant power and traction in the early 30s up until 1945, as that was when just about 1/3 of Germany was out of a job and desperate for stability (Even other countries looked on Nazi Germany with little scorn, allowing it to take the Sudetenland, brushing off the idealization of blood, as just one example, during the 1936 Summer Olympics in Berlin, altogether ignoring the complete violations of the Versailles treaty… The British and co. saw the unveiling of the Bismarck, which was one giant slap in the face to the treaty, you know—the list goes on!). He provided that stability and jobs the Germans were looking for (granted that you ignore Jews, women, the mentally disabled, the physically disabled, queer people, etc) and the people loved him for it. Well, the ones who benefited (and sometimes the ones that didn’t, like the other countries!), but still. With Hertz, it’s similar—someone who has just died is probably looking for some kind of stability. Even the chicken scratch that is my original notes leans into this!

“Listen here, old sport. There’s this sort of stereotype that in Hell, it’s you against the world. But that isn’t necessarily the case. Here, your best chance of survival is to find someone, someone you can trust to have your back. It’s a harsh world, yes, but with a friend or two, it can really become a paradise of its own,” Hertz monologued cheerfully, “Now I know we just met, and you ought to be a bit shaken up, after all, you’ve just been killed! But I can offer you a bit of sanctuary and grace as you get adjusted to this new world. How does that sound, friend?”

He’s constantly emphasizing that a. you need friends to stay afloat (It’s a harsh world, yes, but with a friend or two, it can really become a paradise of its own)!!, and b. he can offer the help you’re looking for, which is the long winded way of saying “stay with me or you’re fucked LMAO”. Now, I don’t know it this is still how I’d have him talk—It was the first blurb of him talking I actually wrote, and I’m still developing how I’d like him to tick—But it’s a good reference as to what he’s doing as of late.

TL;DR: Slightly mysterious, helpful**** man, not dissimilar to a political machine/dictator. Generally remembered as such. So far, I would say so, yes.

Sage: How does your OC obtain money? Do they have regular income? Or do they live off inherited wealth? Do they earn money from different jobs or quests? Or are they reliant on the kindness and charity of others?

Hmmmmm I have yet to think about this. Right now I’d say his goons pay? Something like 10% of their salary a month; think really any religious center. In that case, it would be the “kindness” and “charity” of others.

Lemon Balm: What does your OC do to unwind or to calm themselves? Do they use alcohol or drugs? Or do they meditate or pray? IF they are in a relationship then are there things their lover or spouse knows will reduce their tension - perhaps through providing a listening ear, a relaxing massage or sexual release?

No rest for the wicked, as it were.

Duo:

Sweet Marjoram: Through what gift or gesture might your OC signify their love or devotion to another? Does this reflect the culture in which they were raised? Their personality? Or simply the preferences of the partner in question?

Rabenmark: Not gift, but gifts. This man loves to give gifts, specifically personalized ones (see: the study, the doorknob, the inkwell, etc)

Morton: 3x hand squeeze for I love youu also cuddles. Lots of cuddles. If these two are not kissing and/or cuddling they are either in public or asleep/hj

Sweet Woodruff: How does your OC respond when someone parises them or pays them a compliment? Do they become embarrassed? Do they minimize their own achivements or even change the subject? Or do they revel in the praise and admiration of others? Are there some things they are more comfortable with being praised for than others? Might they be quite content to be launder for their martial skill or academic ability, but mortified to be complimented for their beauty or sexual allure?

Rabenmark: Revel in the praise. This man has no qualms about being right in the center of things.

Morton: Embarrassed to minimizing to finally accepting in a flustered manner.

Sorrel: Does your OC always need to be right in every discussion? Or are they sometimes willing to concede a point for the sake of social harmony (or simply a quiet life)? Are there some topics upon which they will never compromise their position? Or can they usually simply shrug and let others be wrong? Does this vary depending on whether the subject is relatively trivial or of great importance to them personally?

Rabenmark: 99% of the time, yes. Unless it’s Morton, but even then that requires a hefty amount of convincing for (ahem kissing) He argues just to argue. Trivial, he’ll argue, personal, he’ll argue.

Morton: He prefers to be right, but he will gladly take the truth over defending an incorrect stance. He might discuss trivial things but he’ll get more into the discussion if it’s personal, because that could lead to him defending his honor (see: how Rabenmark reacts to anything)

[coralstories]

You Have a Girlfriend?!

Spencer Reid x ocBianca Bennett

A/N: My last Spencer Reid fic was a little after he first met Bianca. This is set after they’ve been together for a while. 

A/N 2: I meant to post the Dia de los Muertos Hobbit fic, but my Halloween weekend was surprisingly busy, so that didn’t happen. Take this one as consolation!

Word count: 2725 (wow, that’s a lot)

“What do we got?”

“The sheriff in San Francisco contacted me about a possible serial killer. Here are the files.”

“Thanks, JJ.”

Agent Aaron Hotchner’s team were gathered in the conference room. JJ, Agent Jareau, had called them in early to brief them on a possible case. They all agreed that it was something they should look into. Then Agent Jareau noticed something.

“Guys, do any of you know where Reid is?” she asked, not having heard his input in the past five minutes.

They all shook their heads.

“Maybe he didn’t get your text,” Morgan offered. 

“Call him, but tell him we’re leaving in 30,” Hotch said.  

With that, the rest of them dispersed. Morgan held back JJ and Agent Prentiss.  

“Listen, why don’t we just go and pick up Reid? JJ, you said he gave you keys, right?”

“Oh, he did?” Agent Prentiss asked.

“Yeah, after we named him godfather,” JJ responded with a smile.

“That’s sweet.”

“Yeah.” JJ considered Morgan’s proposal. “Alright, let’s go.”

They beat traffic and got to Agent Reid’s apartment fairly quickly. He wasn’t answering calls. JJ knocked, but when there was no answer, they all silently agreed to go in. JJ unlocked the door while the others kept a hand on their weapons out of habit. They entered cautiously.

“Reid?” JJ called out.

“He must have left by now,” Prentiss said in a reasonable tone.

“The shower’s on,” Morgan pointed out.

“And is that… a woman singing?” JJ said.

They all moved slowly toward the back of the apartment. They heard the water shutoff, and then a woman walked out, still humming. She had a towel wrapped around herself, tucked under her arms, and her hair was wet. She made her way to the fridge and dug around for a moment. She turned, leaned on the island, and started peeling an orange.

“Did you forget something?” she asked.

All three agents froze in surprise. She wasn’t looking at them, her gaze was on her hands, but there was no one else in the room.

“Um, who are you?” Morgan asked.

“And what are you doing in Reid’s apartment?” Prentiss added.

The woman stopped her movements and lifted her head. 

“Well, shit. None of you are Spencer,” she said.

This confused the agents even more. 

“Do I look like Dr. Spencer Reid?” Morgan asked sarcastically. 

“Well I wouldn’t know, but none of you sound like him.”

There was a pause as they all realized something; she was blind. 

“That was a joke, guys,” the woman said. She put a piece of orange in her mouth. “Lighten up.”

“You still haven’t told us who you are,” Prentiss said.

“Spencer hasn’t told you about me?”

“No,” all the agents said at once. 

“Of course he hasn’t,” she sighed. “I’m Bianca Bennett.” 

She extended her hand, which all of them automatically stepped forward to shake.  

“Spencer calling,” an automated voice said.

The woman, Bianca, reached across the counter to grab the phone and accepted the call on speaker.

“Hey, Spencer,” Bianca answered. “What did you forget?”

“Hey, Bee,” Spencer said.

His coworkers lifted their eyebrows.

“I forgot my jacket, do you think you’ll have time to drop it off?” Spencer continued.

“You’re lucky I have the morning off,” Bianca said with a smile.

“I don’t know about lucky, but it was definitely—“

“And—,” Bianca interrupted loudly— “you’re lucky some of your coworkers are here. I’ll give it to them and they’ll meet you, yeah?”

“What? Who’s there? It’s JJ, isn’t it?”

“Her and Prentiss and Morgan. I think. And I think they were about ready to shoot me.”

Spencer sighed. “I’m really sorry about that, all of you. I’m guessing I’m on speaker, right?”

“You have inferred correctly, sir,” Bianca said.

“Okay, I promise I’ll explain later, guys. For now, can you just grab my jacket and I’ll meet you at the office, please?”

“Actually, we were just swinging by to pick you up. We got called in early on a case,” Prentiss explained.

“Alright, then I’ll meet you on the plane and get briefed there. I’ve got to go, guys, I’m on the subway, I’m—“

The connection was lost. Bianca turned off the phone and turned back to the agents.

“Reception is spotty on the subway. Let me get his jacket,” Bianca said.

She walked out of the room, and the agents immediately started murmuring to each other.

“Since when does Reid have a girlfriend?”

“And she is blind, right?”

“She’s pretty.”

“I wonder if she’s a genius like him.”

Bianca walked into the living room and held out Reid’s jacket.

“We’ve been dating for about a year now,” she said, answering the questions they asked each other. “Yes, I really am blind. Thank you, and no, I am definitely not a genius.”

All the agents averted their eyes and flushed in embarrassment. Prentiss took the jacket with an apologetic smile.

“Thin walls,” Bianca said. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Anyways, you should go. Don’t want to miss your plane. You’ve got to catch some killers, right?”

“Right,” Prentiss said. “Well, um…“

“It was nice meeting you,” JJ said.

“Yeah, you too.” Bianca shook their hands again.

They left and attacked Reid with incessant questions once they were all on the plane. Reid glanced at Hotch and Rossi fearfully. He shushed them and mouthed, ‘Later'. Hotch and Rossi noticed. They only exchanged exasperated glances and ignored the other agents.

The case went by fairly quickly and easily; the team considered themselves lucky. The night before they returned to Quantico, they cornered Reid in his hotel room.

“Okay, spill,” JJ demanded. “How did you even meet her? She doesn’t work with us.”

“That’s because she’s not an FBI agent at all,” Reid said. “She’s a high school teacher.”

“You’re dating a schoolteacher?” Morgan said incredulously.

“Yes. I have enjoyed our privacy so far, so if you guys could—“

“It’s okay, Reid, it’s not like I can judge,” JJ said. “I kept my relationship with Will a secret for about a year, right?”

The other three exchanged telling looks.

“JJ, we all knew,” Reid said.

“What?”

“No, hold on, I’m not gonna let him turn this around,” Morgan said, cutting JJ off from saying anything further.

“And I’m not going to let you all interrogate me or her about our private, personal life,” Reid countered.

“We just want to know who she is,” Prentiss said.

“And why you’ve been hiding her from us,” Morgan said.

“Well, I told you. Her name is Bianca Bennett and she’s a school teacher. And I haven’t been hiding her from you, you all just assumed I wasn't dating anyone.”

No one said anything for a moment after that. They couldn’t deny it. The possibility never entered their minds that Spencer Reid may be seeing someone.

“Where did you guys meet?” JJ asked, breaking the silence.

Reid gave her a warning look, perhaps trying to determine her intentions.

“She came up to me in the park to ask for advice about one of her students. She had heard me give a lecture before and knew my background,” Reid explained.

“What do you mean, she wanted help with one of her students? Isn’t it her job to teach kids?”

“Yeah, but this student was different.”

“Was that the day you left early?” Prentiss asked.

Reid nodded. “Yup. It still took about seven meetings before she asked me out, though.”

“She asked you out? Oh come on, Reid,” Morgan said.

“It took you guys that long?”

“Well, she was waiting for me to ask her out, but I was completely oblivious. Even her student, the one I was mentoring, and his aunt picked up on it. I liked her, obviously, but I guess I just never thought she would agree to a date. She’s just amazing.”

“Aw. I’m happy for you, Spence,” JJ said, patting the younger man on the back.  

“Yeah, it’s about time, man.”

“She’s okay with you being gone for long periods of time like this?” Prentiss asked.

Reid glanced at each of them before answering.

“She would prefer I wasn’t, obviously, but she knows this job is important to me. Besides, it’s not like we have a kid or anything.”

They were all quiet as they thought about their coworker, Hotch. Finally, Prentiss, Morgan, and JJ stood.

“We should get going. We have to be up early for our flight tomorrow,” Prentiss said.

“Yeah, we’ll let you get some sleep,” Morgan said.

“Ask Bianca if it would be okay to ask her to lunch,” JJ said. “I want to get to know her since she’s your girlfriend and all.”

“Okay, I’ll text her in a bit. Goodnight, guys.”

The next morning, they left early for their six-hour flight and got back to Quantico around noon. They went straight to the office to start on reports. Reid was telling his team members about the history of San Francisco as they rode the elevator.

“You know, what’s interesting is that San Francisco was called the “city of sin” long before Las Vegas. The city was rife with prostitution and opium dens as an outlet for the gold rushers who flocked to the city at the time. At first, there wasn’t much law and order to the city and it was run by vigilante groups who would hang anyone who committed a crime.”

Prentiss and Morgan exchanged a glance, but they didn’t try to cut him off yet.

“Then, when they started an actual police force, even those policemen were corrupt and accepted bribes from the madams and drug dealers to turn the other cheek. That all changed after the 1906 earthquake and fire, though. After that, the city’s inhabitants become of a reform-minded mood and when they were rebuilding, they--”

The elevator arrived at their floor, and they stepped out quickly.

“--decided that they would build more respectable businesses, especially on Morton Street, where most of the--”

“Reid, so, how long have you and Bianca been living together?” Prentiss asked.  

“Not long. We actually go between her place and mine. We’re usually at her apartment on the weekends.”

Reid’s phone rang.

“Hello?” Reid answered. “What? Are you okay?”

The note of fear in his voice caught the others’ attention.

“Okay. I’m on my way, and I’m going to send some police officers as well, okay? I’ll see you soon.” He hung up and started gathering his things while he dialed another number.

“What’s going on?” Prentiss asked.

“Someone broke into Bianca’s apartment and attacked her,” Reid explained.

“Oh my god,” Prentiss said. “I’ll tell Hotch what’s going on.”

“I’ll drive you,” Morgan said.

“Hey Garcia,” Reid said into the phone. “I need you to dispatch the closest patrol car to Bianca’s apartment. … Everything’s fine for now, but I need you to hurry, okay?… There was a break-in, I’ve got to go.”

He hung up. Morgan followed him with the keys to one of the SUVs. They ran the siren. Morgan followed Reid’s directions and got to Bianca’s apartment in record time. When they got out they saw that there was a police car on the sidewalk. Reid took the stairs two at a time, and Morgan followed close behind. As they neared Reid’s door, they heard Bianca’s voice.

“I’m okay, please stop touching me,” she said.

Reid and Morgan burst into the room to find it a mess. Items were strewn along the floor, the refrigerator was open, a dish was shattered, the coffee table was on its side, and the TV was on the floor near the door. There was one police officer kneeling on a man and putting handcuffs on him. The officer’s partner was attempting to comfort Bianca. He had his hands on her shoulders, ignoring her attempts to shake him off and her stiff posture. Reid barreled through the room toward them, while Morgan kept close to the arresting officer in case he needed help.

“Bianca, are you alright?” Reid asked. “Hands off my girlfriend, she doesn’t like strangers touching her,” he snapped at the police officer.

The man put his hands up in surrender, eyes wide. Reid took Bianca’s hand and led her to the couch, making her sit.

“I’m fine, Spencer. He just surprised me is all,” Bianca said.

The officers stood up with the offender.

“Did she tell you what happened?” Morgan asked them.

“Just that he was here when she came in, and almost knocked her out,” one of them said. “Your boy’s got a good girl there. When we came in she was standing over this loser with her stick pointed at his throat.”

“It’s a cane,” Reid corrected at the same time the would-be thief started shouting.

“She threatened me!” the offender whined. “She said if I moved—“

“Shut the hell up, man,” Morgan said. “It was self-defense. I’d have kicked your ass.”

The officers took him away. Morgan went over to where Reid and Bianca were sitting on the couch. He noticed how Bianca seemed to be melting into Reid.  

“Bianca, I think you should go to the hospital,” Morgan said gently.

“What? Why?” Reid asked.

He took Bianca’s face in his hands and examined her. She winced. Her bottom lip trembled and she kept looking up; it looked like she was trying not to cry.

“You said he tried to knock you out?” Morgan prompted.

“Yeah, he tried to hit me with the vase.”

Reid pushed her hair back to reveal a cut on her ear and neck.

“Bianca!” Reid exclaimed.

Bianca touched one hand to her ear. When she pulled it away, her fingertips were sticky with blood.

“I thought it was the water,” Bianca murmured. "From the vase."

Morgan leaned down to examine her. “It doesn’t look that deep,” he said. “But we should still get you checked out. Want me to drive?”

“O-okay,” Bianca said.

“Thank you,” Reid said.

Reid helped Bianca up and to the door, where Morgan offered to carry her down the stairs.

“Thanks, but I can walk,” Bianca replied stubbornly.

She managed it by leaning heavily on the railing and keeping one hand intertwined with Spencer’s. The ride to the hospital was silent, broken only by Morgan and Reid’s cell phones vibrating. Morgan glanced down and saw that it was a group text from Penelope, telling them all that Hotch wants them to meet in the BAU conference room. Morgan looked in the rearview mirror and saw Reid frowning down at his phone, presumably at the same text.

“Spencer, what’s wrong?” Bianca asked.

“What? Nothing,” Reid said.

Bianca’s lips curved up into a smirk. “Now I really know there’s something up.”

Morgan’s eyebrows rose at her keen perception. Bianca, who had been leaning on Reid’s shoulder, suddenly sat up straighter.

“If you need to go back to work, it’s okay,” Bianca said softly.

Reid met Morgan’s eyes in the mirror, the problem clear in his eyes. Reid shook his head.

“No,” he said. “I can’t leave you.”

“But… I have friends I can call. If it’s important--”

Reid’s phone buzzed again. It lit up to reveal a text from Hotch: he was aware of the situation and Reid did not have to come in until it was resolved. Reid sighed in relief and put his arm around Bianca, nudging her so that her head was on his shoulder again.

“Nothing’s more important than you,” he said in her ear.

It was too quiet for Morgan to hear, but the small, shy smile that graced Bianca’s features was enough to let him know of his friend’s plans.

“We just came back from a case, so we probably don’t have to leave again,” Morgan said. “Hotch probably just wants us to go over reports. I can cover for you, man.”

Reid smiled slightly and gave a tight nod. “Thanks.”

“Aaron Hotchner?” Bianca said. She smiled up at Reid. “I want to meet the rest of your team now.”

“Well, maybe we can arrange that for another day,” Reid said.

“Oh, really? I was thinking we could invite them all to the emergency room,” Bianca deadpanned.

It took both men a moment to realize that she was being sarcastic. Reid laughed and buried his face in her hair, and began whispering something else to her. Morgan chuckled and shook his head. He was beginning to like Reid’s girlfriend.

[the-busy-ghost]

What exactly happened to Scottish food????

To give three examples:

“Not long after the dram, may be expected the breakfast, a meal in which the Scots, whether of the Lowlands or mountains, must be confessed to excel us. The tea and coffee are accompanied not only with butter, but with honey, conserves, and marmalades. If an epicure could remove by a wish, in quest of sensual gratifications, wherever he had supped he would breakfast in Scotland.” - Samuel Johnson, “A Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland”, published 1775. And Dr Johnson was not a man known for speaking gently about the Scots.

“Her cuisine is a little limited, but she has as good an idea of breakfast as a Scotchwoman.” - Sherlock Holmes describing Mrs Hudson’s cooking in “The Adventure of the Naval Treaty”, by Arthur Conan Doyle (himself a Scot) published 1893.

“While we were talking the neat, small maid had covered my table with a Scottish tea. No southerner can conceive the reckless generosity of Scottish teas. They are of two calibres: heavy and light, but known technically as high or plain. There is nothing you cannot eat at high tea in Scotland. You could order ham and eggs, half a cold grouse, with outriders in the form of bannocks and cakes and many varieties of bread. I think the Scots are, with the Viennese, the best pastrycooks in the world.” - H. V. Morton, “In Search of Scotland”, published 1949. I have not read this whole book but this English journalist seems to have been particularly besotted with Scottish food (or at least the sheer quantity of it) because later he continues:

“It is however, in breakfasts and teas that the Scottish genius for repletion manifests itself to perfection. I entered the front parlour and saw on the table a breakfast which I can describe only as perfectly sincere. There were eggs and bacon. There were warm scones. There were baps. There was toast. There was marmalade. There was jelly. There was honey. In case this was not enough, there was a plate of parkins and a currant loaf.”

Those are only three examples but I could point to several other passing references to the quality of Scottish teas and breakfasts in nineteenth and twentieth century literature and other media, including the 1943 film “We’ll Meet Again” (starring Vera Lynn) and indeed my own mother’s memories of the food offered to guests in her (working-class) parents’ house. 

I have to imagine that this sort of excess was not everyday fare for most Scots, but in terms of both the quantity and quality of food offered to visitors it seems to fly in the face of both the stereotypes that the Scots are mean and that our food is necessarily worse than what is consumed in the south (if British food at all can be rated particularly highly). 

I do know personally that Scottish baking used to be more highly regarded- even Aberdeen alone had a score of its own unique cakes and pastries until the 1960s and 1970s (now almost entirely represented by the unprepossessing rowie). I do know that the kind of fare provided by farmers’ mothers in rural Perthshire was impressive at least ten years ago (can’t testify now) and my own family’s history attests to the fact that the coal and steel towns of West Lothian could offer a similar level of quality, at least twenty years ago. But the sharp decline in the overall reputation of Scottish food seems very sad- even the ‘full Scottish’ offered in hotels now is no more impressive than the Full English, and only really differs with the occasional addition of some oatcakes or extra black pudding. Maybe it’s the time constraints and lack of access to fresh produce that modern Scots contend with but I’d still like to have a proper explaination for the difference now.

We all love our bakery pies and deep fried delights, as horrendous as they may be re: calorific content and miscellaneous scraps of meat, and perhaps we love them even more because they horrify some of the posher folk down south. But it does feel a bit like we’re forgetting just how good the preserves, fish, meat, and cakes (oh god the cakes) that fed Scotland for generations actually were, and that until recently the reason that our cuisine was famous was NOT actually because of how bad it was. Yorkshire teas are still rightly famous, what happened to Scottish teas?

I really shouldn’t be complaining. I’m a terrible cook myself. But the fact that when I stated this once to a 77-79 year old lady from rural Buckinghamshire, her reaction was essentially “What kind of Scot are you???” says a lot about how much things have changed. Especially since, if I’d said that in my office just over the border in Oxfordshire, where the employees tend to be two or three decades younger, their reaction would have probably been “So what- don’t you lot just deep fry everything anyway?”

Anyway this is just a bit of a rant- I know very little about food or the history of British cuisine- nor indeed am I privy to the opinions of everyone in the UK re: Scottish food! But every time I'm reading an old book and a ‘Scottish breakfast’ is used as a synonym for a damn good meal, I am always a little bit taken aback (and hungry. If the Scots could make good breakfasts, the English certainly knew how to describe them in the most mouth-watering way).

[creativelitlover]

Book review

Into the Shadows – a few facts

Author: Marie Jones

Genre: Romance, Mystery, Suspense

Publisher: lulu.com

Published: 23rd December 2015

More from: The Edge – A short story

The building tension and suspense is brilliant!!

Maire Jones has no doubt an amazing talent at hooking you in right from the start! The contrast at the beginning with Lily talking herself in and out of going back to Dingle is pure genius, gripping you in with Lily’s unsure feelings, battling inside her head. The picture painted of Lily inside my own head began developing straight away…..

  “I’m not the girl you would secretly admire, dream, envy you were more like.”

I knew right there and then, reading that line, this story, Lily’s journey was going to be motivational, inspiring and emotional…. and believe me, it was that and so much more!! Being written in 1st person, I felt as one with Lily and was with her the whole way though with all the emotions rolling in my own head.

I truly could not put this book down, it gave me a couple of “book hangovers” over the time it took to read it…. my family suffered hehe, not really they are used to me by now! With every turning page, I’d be begging my eyes to stay open….. just one more page! That’s how the plot left me, battling to carry on and find out more.

The characters were so real and very relatable. I enjoyed the conversation between Lily and Nina, Lily’s roommate, when Lily had told Nina why she was dropping everything to go back to Dingle, her reaction was brilliant!! Her ranting away and sarcasm was incredibly funny yet you felt the strong friendship between them. I’d of loved for Nina and Lily to have a bit more time together in the story as I really did love their banter, fantastic!!

The romance!!! Oh, the romance. David, well Lily and David’s first meeting was pure fireworks, although poor Lily getting the hot end of that firework, not that I blame David…. the shock of the photo obviously hurt him, what better way to start a romance though eh?! Plus what better way to bring Lily out of her shell by her being needed, relied on and just having to help this man solve the mystery. Clearly drawing them in closer and building their relationship over the chapters. And that kiss!

Into the Shadows is beautifully written, the descriptions of Dingle and “Inch Beach” really brought the whole story to life! An amazing read that has got me wanting more….. please 🙂

Amazons description:

Awarded FIVE STAR BADGE from ‘READERS FAVOURITE’ and SHORTLISTED for UK NOVEL WRITING COMPETITION 2017 Lily Crossways lives a controlled life, where she ensures she never experiences hurt or disappointment. Until, that is, she returns home from a short holiday in Dingle, where she discovers an eerie image of a desperate woman on one of her photographs. How can that be, when Lily was alone that day on Inch beach? Who is this woman, is she even real, and why has she appeared to Lily? The woman seems to be calling to her, if only Lily can rescue her. Compelled to find her, Lily returns to Dingle and her search leads her to cafe owner David Carson, this missing woman’s brother, and the man who will turn Lily’s life upside down in every way possible. Lily must now convince him to trust in her, taking bold steps to prove herself to him, and together track down his sister before it’s too late. But nothing can prepare Lily for the secrets she uncovers about herself, her own family and how all their lives were destined to become intertwined from a distant childhood visit.

Author interview:

Maire was kind enough to answer some questions for me, especially for my blog book review. I tried to come up with some different questions for Marie, and shes answered them all brilliantly.

What is the first book that made you cry?

It was ‘Little Women’ by Louisa Alcott, the part when Beth dies. Still makes me want to well up now just thinking about it.

Does writing energise you or exhaust you?

Most of the time it energises me, but sometimes when you’ve written an emotional scene it can leave you feeling quite exhausted by the end. I do find though I may feel tired before writing, or more accurately by the thought of sitting down to write when I really just want to be a couch potato, but once I get going I become energised!

What is your writing kryptonite?

My phone – especially when it beeps at me with a message and it’s so tempting to read it immediately, but by doing that I lose concentration and momentum on what I was writing.

What was an early experience where you learned that language had power?

I think loving reading from a very early age, I grew to love how they can transform you to a different world, time, life even that you’ve never lived yourself, nor likely to. It expanded my imagination, and my desire to want to write novels myself.

What’s your favourite under-appreciated novel?

I’ve always preferred ‘Persuasion’ by Jane Austen to ‘Pride and Prejudice’, but its always the lesser known one, the poorer cousin so to speak, which is a real shame. It has a very strong message about following your own heart’s desires, not other peoples desires for you.

What’s your favourite series?

I loved ‘The Night Manager’ that was on TV some time back, based on the book. Also, I’m a huge fan of ‘Poldark’ (though my favourite character is not Poldark himself as you would expect but Dr Enys)

How many hours’s a day do you write?

Not enough! I usually get around 1-2 hours a day around working as a Teaching Assistant in a school, and looking after my own two children after school. I would love to be a full time writer, but that’s currently just a pipedream…

Did you edit a lot out of this book?

I edited out some scenes which I decided took away from the main story of Into The Shadows, but never a great amount overall. However, I do have to do several edits to the point I get word blind!

How do you select the names for your characters?

I play around with different names as I visualise how they look and sound, until I found the one that I feel fits. It’s working on instinct really, like naming your own children when they are born.

What was your hardest scene to write?

I would say the scenes between my two main characters, David and Lily when they are arguing and full of emotion, because I want the scenes to feel real and raw, and my readers to connect with them on an emotional level, to sympathise and understand them.

Do you have a favourite author?

Jane Austen. Also love Kate Morton and Santa Montefiore.

Do you like films adapted from books? …… If so which is your favourite?

I don’t mind films adapted from books as long as it’s not changed too drastically from the original book. The Help was one film that was well adapted, as was War Horse by Michael Morpurgo.

Can you think of a fictional character you wouldn’t get along with? ….. Who? and from which novel?

I can’t name one particular, but a character that was either too fussy and whinging I would struggle to go along with, or one that was very judgemental. But you can’t have all nice, lovely characters – you’ve got to have at least one nasty character in there.

Can you think of a fictional character you would go on a date with? …… Who? and from which novel?

Oh, well I’d quite like to go on a date with my own main male characters – David from Into The Shadows, and now Michael from my new novel I’m writing, The Perfect Storm! I think they are, secretly, my dream kind of men.

Do you have a favourite book cover?

I love Santa Montefiore’s covers to her books. Always really striking.

What do we have to look forward to from you next?

I am working away at my next novel, The Perfect Storm, set in the highlands of Scotland. Here’s a little taster of what the story is about:

When Sophia is unexpectantly visited by her old university friend, Aniella, her friend begs Sophia to stay at Aniella’s flat in Inverness and look after a safe hidden away, telling her that she is in fear of her life and must disappear for a while. Forced to act on her friend’s please, Sophia soon finds herself not only in danger herself but under suspicision from Detective Marcus Armstrong, who has the flat under survellience for reasons he won’t reveal…

Thank you, so much Maire for taking the time to answer my questions and give a little insight to your wonderful mind that created such a gorgeous and gripping story. I look forward to your next novel “The Perfect Storm”, and I truly rate your writing! It’s beautiful.

www.mariejones.yolasite.com

  Into the Shadows: Book review Book review Into the Shadows - a few facts Author: Marie Jones Genre: Romance, Mystery, Suspense…

[joeonmusic]

New EP Before it’s too late

I cannot stop writing songs at the moment. The process gives me joy, but I have so many songs stacked up that I am not sure how I’ll ever release them all!

Anyway, the most important thing this week is that I have a new EP out with four songs that all have a bit of an environmental theme. I guess the smartest thing would have been to release them on world environment day yesterday, but I am going for Friday 11th June instead.

There are two “lead songs” on the EP, or a double A-side if you like. The first of these songs is called Mr Stanley, I presume. I wrote this song after the Black Lives Matters protests last year, as I wanted to learn more about Britain's colonial past. I had heard of Henry Morton Stanley as the man who searched for Dr Livingstone in Africa, but hadn't realised quite how dark his story was until I looked into it. To discover that a man known for such a humorous, throwaway comment actually probably made that up and was involved in some of the bloodiest and nastiest activities in Africa was shocking for me and I had to write a song about it and link it to the deceitful lying politicians who are now driving our planet to the brink of destruction. You can read more about Henry Morton Stanley’s life here. 

Nature never breaks her own rules is the other lead track on the EP. It is a mellotron-drenched psychedelic-sounding look at how artistic/engineering genius and nature can go together. Taking Leonardo Da Vinci as the subject, this song looks at how flawed genius can lead us to important discoveries and being able to see things in different ways.

I must say that those two songs were mixed and mastered by Jake Forrester, whose work you can find here. He did a great job at bringing out all the parts in the songs to their fullest and he really got what I wanted to achieve with them. I hope to work with him again in the future.

Big Mary is the third track. It’s an acoustic song about how a town in Tennessee got a terrible bloodlust towards an elephant. I came across this story of how the town of Erwin Tennessee hanged a circus elephant in a gruesome act of revenge and felt compelled to write about it. You can read more about it here.

Goldilocks Apocalypse is the final song on the EP. It’s a rather bleak minimalist song with just slide guitar and a tremolo sound on the picked chords. I decided to keep it deliberately sparse with fragile falsetto vocals. The lyrics refer to our planet being in the goldilocks zone (so-called because it’s not too hot or cold - perfect for life to thrive). However, this isn’t a fairytale with a happy ending as the stupidity of throwing away our chance to live on such a perfect planet is brought out through stark images of the destruction of the natural world.

Despite the rather downbeat theme of these songs, there’s still beauty to be found in them and I hope you enjoy listening to them. Follow me on bandcamp to be notified as soon as they’re released: https://joepeacock.bandcamp.com/