#and then completely unrelated i wanted to see what my library offered for romance out of curiosity

[realbacchus]

Going on a self discovery this year (accidentally keeping ao3 open and borrowing monster smut on a shared library card)

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Healing Hands

A/N: I wrote a sequel to Healer! Though I think it could be read as a standalone too. It’s actually longer than Healer is but I wanted to write about what happened afterwards. It’s cute, it’s a little bit funny and a little bit steamy. Enjoy!

Title: Conrad Sewell - Healing Hands

Summary: Draco arrives at the readers flat to build the bookshelves.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Requested:

Warnings: a little bit steamy 

Word count: 1.6k

A knock on the door signals his arrival. The butterflies in your stomach haven’t settled since you walked out of St Mungo’s.

“I brought Chinese food,” He says as way of greeting.

You groan, moving to the side to let him in, “My saviour. I am so hungry.”

He places the food on the table, leaning against the kitchen counter as you grab the plates and cutlery. It all felt very domestic; having Draco in your kitchen, in your home. It felt right.

“How was work?” You ask him, grabbing the takeout boxes.

“It was long, but I had this one patient – hurt herself building a bookshelf, if you can believe it.”

“She sounds like an independent woman,” You state, raising an eyebrow as you lift a forkful of food to your mouth.

Draco swallows his mouthful, “I don’t doubt it, but she was the highlight of my shift. It helped that she was cute.”

“Was!?” You shout, affronted.

He laughs, hands up, relenting, “Okay, you’re always cute.”

You point your fork at him, “That is correct, Draco. I’m ridiculously cute.”

Draco smiles; the kind of smile where his eyes crinkle and his teeth show. It makes him look so much younger and you wonder how long it has been since he’s had evening like this.

“You didn’t have to do this, Draco. I completely understand if you just wanted to go home and sleep.”

“I want to do this. I want to spend more time with you,” He says, honestly.

“You know Draco, I think you might be too good for this world.”

“Don’t be silly. Now hand me the instructions.” Draco mutters, grabbing the instructions and holding the close to his face – an attempt to hide the blush you had so easily brought to his cheeks with a number of words.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The bookshelves start to take shape in no time at all. Draco does most of the work, only accepting minimum work from you.

“Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself again,” He says as if it’s a good enough reason.

“Nonsense. Hand me the instructions, Malfoy, I am the resident expert on Ikea flatpack.”

“I think the screwdriver begs to differ.”

“Oh, we’re making jokes now. We’re joking about my injury?” You gasp, holding your injured hand to your heart, pouting at the blonde-haired man in front of you.

Draco laughs; the sound of it making its home in your heart. At Hogwarts, you never knew such a warm, luscious sound could fall from his mouth.

You remember your vow from earlier; determined to make that sound the soundtrack of the rest of your life.

Draco focuses on connecting the piece of wood that would make the back panel of the bookshelf. “How did you get into writing?”

“It was a coping mechanism after the war.”

He nods silently, a sign for you to continue. “I picked up a pen one day and didn’t stop until I had written my first book. It needed editing, desperately, so I did that. And then there were further revisions and such but after a couple of months, I had my first book, I sent it off to a publisher, and I was sleeping through the night again.”

“That was the worst part of it for me as well,” Draco murmurs, “The not sleeping. I’d be awake for days on end. I did try to sleep but every time I closed my eyes, I saw it all again, every awful thing I did. I started to avoid sleeping, eventually crashing after a few days.”

“Is that why you turned to healing?”

Draco nods, “My family… they did so much bad through the war. There would be no redemption or if there was, there would be very little. I wanted to help people; I didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore. So I started to read what I could on the subject; raiding my family’s library and it went from there. I love what I do, it’s helped me become a better person.”

“That…” You pause, thinking of the right words, “That is a very noble reason to become a Healer, Draco.”

A blush stains his cheeks, “Thank you. Do you talk to anyone from school?”

You take a sip of your drink, “A few people, not many. Hermione and Ron never fail to send me flowers after a book is published. Neville sends letters from Hogwarts, telling me how happy is to be teaching. Do you?”

“Not really. I spoke to Potter not long back, wanting to apologise for my actions in school. He forgave me, surprisingly. Hermione was harder; I was so awful to her, but she still forgave me. I have no contact with anyone from Slytherin.”

“You aren’t the same person as you were at school, Draco. They know that and they understand that.” You state, remembering the conversation you had with Hermione when she had mentioned that Draco had stopped by and asked for her forgiveness for his actions through their education.

Quiet falls between the both of you; the only noise coming from the hammer being used on the bookshelves. It’s comfortable, and you’re practically assaulted with visions of a possible future – complete domesticity for you and Draco; an office for each of you where you can write and he can catch up on paperwork, but the both you know that he would rather sit in your office on your couch so he can be near you through your thought process. You see early mornings in the kitchen, the both of you still bleary-eyed with sleep – soft touches and kisses exchanged over the first cup of coffee for the day. You see the celebration of another of your books being published coinciding with a promotion for Draco; champagne opened and quickly forgotten as Draco presses you into the couch in the living room.

It’s over just as quickly as it began, and nothing has changed yet everything has changed – for you. Draco continues to build the bookshelves. You, on the other hand, have been knocked breathless by the strength of how much you want the man in front of you.

“I never asked: what do you write?”

You blink, recovering from your realisation, “Romance, mainly. Some Fantasy.”

“I have to admit, I haven’t read anything of yours.” Draco says, a hand rubbing the back of his neck.

You chuckle, “That’s okay. I bet you’ve read nothing but medical textbooks for the last few years.”

“Got it in one,” He says, smiling widely.

“I’ve got plenty of copies of my books. I’ll happily give you one.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer. It means I’ll have to come back for the others,” He says, cheekily.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Some form of sadness washes over you as the bookshelves finally stand independently. It’s as of Draco’s work is done, and the idea that you might not see him again for some time opens a hole in your chest.

You help Draco move the bookshelves into position against the wall; all the while, you’re wondering how you could see him again, trying to work up the courage to ask to see him again.

He beats you to it.  

“I would really like to do this again,” Draco says, grabbing his jacket from where he placed it on the back of a chair.

“What? Build my bookshelves?”

Draco looks at you unimpressed, “No, I meant see you again.”

You bite your lip to keep from smiling; you don’t miss how Draco’s eyes home in on the sight of your teeth sunk into your bottom lip.

“I’d like to see you again too,” You whisper.

You both linger in the doorway. Draco’s jacket still in his hands as if he doesn’t want to put it on because if he puts it on, it means that he’s leaving, and he doesn’t know when he is going to see you again, and deep down, he doesn’t want to leave you.

“Can I try something?”

“As long as it’s you kissing me,” You say bluntly.

Draco drops his jacket. His hands caressing your face as he brings his lips to meet yours. They glide together effortlessly, as if they were made for each other.  

He presses you into the wall, his body lining itself up with yours. A hand travels to your thigh, squeezing. One of your hands finds purchase in his hair, grabbing at the blonde locks and pulling, drawing a groan from his mouth. You smile into the kiss; Draco responds by biting down on your lower lip – something he had wanted to do since he saw you bite it. He kisses you with passion, with unrelenting feeling.

It’s almost too much; the feel of him pressed against you, it’s almost too much and you can feel yourself start to internally combust.

When you pull away to take a breath, Draco begins to press open-mouthed kisses to your jawline, travelling down your neck before settling on a spot to leave a dark purple bruise. One of your hands runs itself through his hair; the other begins to pull at his shirt, trying to get it off, off, off.

Draco continues his pursuit down your neck; very much enjoying the breathless moans falling from your mouth. He stops when you whisper one word: “Stay.”

He pulls back placing not one, not two but three light kisses to your lips. He relishes the sight of you chasing his lips. “Stay,” you repeat.

He nods, searching your eyes for the permission despite it being spoken, and that’s all it takes. All the both of them need to know.

****

Harry Potter (general) taglist: @the-hufflefluffwriter @obsessedwithrandomthings @kalimagik @lupins-sweater @summer-writes

Draco Malfoy taglist: @cheapglitter 

Healer sequel taglist: @onebatch--twobatch @sydneyisnotawriter 

[cjs-got-a-selfship]

Jasper/Page- pt 6/9

pt- 5

A few weeks pass with minimal interaction. It was a bit harder than Page expected to find the kinds of books Jasper was looking for. Seemed she had gotten lucky on the first draw to have found the volume she did. She refrained from making deliveries the second she struck gold and decided to wait until she had a bundle of two or three before bringing all of them in. It also gave her an excuse to stay and chat a bit longer.

By nature, Gangrel were more inclined to keep to themselves than travel in groups. It was in their nature, sure, but that didn’t mean that the loneliness didn’t set in at times. Page never sought the company of a coterie like most Kindred did, all the politics and complications that it usually entailed never appealed to her. She much preferred to go about her business on her own, unbeholden to anyone for permission, no one to justify herself to, and no one to potentially cross. It was easier just her and the rat pack occasionally doing jobs for whoever was paying, but it was also far more isolating. This had been the routine for so long, she’d be lying to say she didn’t want to have someone to confide in. Someone bigger than eight inches tall, that is.

Talking with Jasper, however brief, was a breath of fresh air. Conversations were typically kept short, surface level. Mostly things like, ‘where’d you find this one?’, ‘anything interesting from that last book?’, and ‘keep your rats out of my place please’. But even these short interactions gave Page something to genuinely look forward to; something she hadn’t had in a long time.

Some weeks of this routine pass, Page returned once again to Griffith Park to deliver another bundle. She was particularly proud of this one: something in latin she deuced had something to do with classic monsters, the journal of some old occult member she swiped from a recon job, and a copy of Twilight just for shits and giggles. Stack of books in hand, she knocked on the metal door. After a moment it creaked open with Jasper standing in the frame.

“Ah, thank you, Page,” he took the stack and started looking through the titles, “What did we find this… huh.”

“Hahahahahahaa! I found it in the paranormal section and I couldn’t resist!” she was clearly enjoying herself.

“Funny… well I did say either phoney or legitimate would do…”

“Hell yeah ya did! Hehehehe!”

He hung his head a bit, sighing. “Right, I suppose I did walk into that one… I’m almost second guessing inviting you in to look through these with me.”

“Wait, what?” Page’s jovial mood shifted to almost palpable shock. Jasper had been extremely defensive of his space since the beginning. She had respected this and kept the rats from sneaking inside, and had refrained from inviting herself in to look at the library or peek at the labyrinth again. He never made any move to invite her in even for a short amount of time, and all the hand offs had happened outside, sometimes even in the middle of the park if their paths happened to cross early. An invitation in caught Page off guard.

“I’ve hit a bit of a wall with some of the entries and was hoping a fresh set of eyes could help me decipher what they mean,” he let out a short hiss of a laugh, “But if you’d rather read a trashy romance novel than by all means…”

“Wait no! No!” she was practically rolling with laughter, “I’m kidding! I’m kidding! I can take it back if you’d prefer?”

“Oh no, the books you bring become mine, that was the deal. This is mine now, I do with it as I please.”

“Sure Jasper, sure. So do you still want my help, or have I offended your sensibilities too much?” 

“That depends. If you can help me sort out what these notes mean then I can forgive you… but if not then you’ll just have to watch me throw this into the LA river.”

“Hehehe, fair enough!”

Jasper reopened the door, leading Page back inside for the first time since she had first come across the place. They walked down the sloped corridor until it leveled off again in front of another door. Passing through it they came into the circular chamber lined with bookshelves, the same furnishings huddled in the center in a sort of sitting room. The coffee table was already littered with short stacks of books and loose papers with messy notes scrawled on the pages. Jasper set the new stack of books on the coffee table with the rest, and took a seat on the floor at the table, across from the sofa. After getting comfortable, he glanced back at Page, barely through the doorway simply scanning around the room in clear astonishment.

“Are you going to come in to help me or are you just gonna stand there?”

Her attention snapped back to him, “O-oh! Uh… yeah.” She quickly made her way to the sofa and took a seat, looking slightly overwhelmed by the plethora of book in front of her. “What exactly are we looking for?”

“I’m looking for any information I can get on ley lines. What they do, how they work, speculated locations, that sort of thing.” He pushed a stack toward her, “These are in English, you can start with them and let me know what you find.”

For hours they poured over the books in front of them, comparing and contrasting notes, debating, but coming to the same general conclusions. Occasionally they went to replace the ones that offered no help or grabbed some that may offer some knowledge despite unrelated titles, only to be ultimately disappointed by those as well. As they went along, Page felt they were making great progress--she knew she at least was learning a lot from this experience--but Jasper didn’t seem to be any more optimistic. His note taking slowed, he continuously returned to the same few books and specific pages, read and reread the same sections. Page noticed this and occasionally offered to trade stacks; he always declined for the simple fact that he was the only one who could read the ones in front of him. Unable to argue, she went back to her own texts, hoping she could find something to get him out of his current rut.

He was already pretty gloomy by nature, but seeing him getting more and more frustrated as the hours wore on was starting to wear down on her own mood. She hoped coming back here would be a bit more pleasant than this. She expected that in the event that she got invited back, it would be because Jasper had warmed up to the idea of having her around enough to possibly consider her a friend of some sort. She hoped maybe then they could find something more… enjoyable to do with their time. Sure, she was enjoying this herself, but Jasper’s growing frustration was diminishing a majority of her own experience.

It was then, hours into researching that Page got an idea. She stood up from the sofa and searched through the shelves for a specific volume. “Ah hah!” she exclaimed victoriously, plucking it from the shelf.

Suddenly she had Jasper’s attention, “What? What did you find?”

“The solution to our problems!” She jumped over the back of the sofa and took a seat again, she began to read aloud from a random page. “‘I stared at the deep-voiced boy, taken aback, but he was looking away toward the dark forest behind us. He'd said that the Cullens didn't come here, but his tone had implied something more—that they weren't allowed; they were prohibited. His manner left a strange impression-’”

“-Wait what’re you-”

“-Hush! It’s not a distraction if you interrupt me! Now where was I? Ah yes…”

For a few minutes she continued to read, complete with expressions and animated movements for emphasis, much to Jasper’s dismay and amusement. Eventually he did manage to talk her into stopping her dramatic recreation, promising to not throw the book into the LA river if she stopped. After a good few minutes of laughing, they returned once again to their original texts, this time with fresh eyes and a rekindled humor. With perspectives refreshed, they both found it much easier to make progress, and making progress they were. It wasn’t until they were both feeling the pangs of weariness did they realize how long they’d been engrossed in their studies. Even then, they continued reading despite it becoming harder and harder to maintain consciousness. 

Eventually, surrounded by still open books and scattered notes, they both found themselves slipping into supernatural rest.

pt- 7

[shadows-of-almsivi]

Snapshots: Old age, reflections.

The netch-leather straps were always most difficult in the mornings. They each had to be tightened just so, the arm beneath wrapped in suede and fur to spare the harnessing rubbing it raw. This morning, the polished brass clasps were being very particular about how they caught their respective notches, the prongs sliding away repeatedly to poke at his bicep.

“Hssst–! N’chow… Get in there, you bastard–”

It was easiest to start with the chest strap. Leather held taut in his teeth, the familiar faint acid of netch-leather tingling against his tongue, his clumsier left hand fumbled the buckle into place. One down, at least. He heaved a sigh; this would be so much easier with an assistant. Curse his damnable pride.

(Curse, too, this inconstant left hand, inclined to the most enraging tremors these past few years. He could hardly ignore that the medicines were not lasting so long as they once did.)

He turned the matter over as he started on the other straps, working down his arm one by torturous one. Had it been a good idea to send Lo’Droj to market so quickly? Really rather sweet, that one, always willing to help. And the dogs even liked him, certainly a first. Perhaps something might come of it, something a touch further than the occasional warm bed and some help with the housework, if he’d just ask Lo’Droj to stay a little longer in the mornings. Would that be so bad?

He gnawed one strap a little as he considered the matter, the leather’s tamed venom numbing the tip of his tongue. Lo’Droj was a lovely young thing, and Moraelyn really did like him. Perhaps it was that self-same affection that made him keep Lo’Droj somewhat at arms’ length; Moraelyn felt too much of a bitter old foreigner in private, too inclined to brooding and quiet rages at unpredictable moments. It seemed a shame to inflict his darker, more honest self on such a sweet boy. (So far, he had managed to avoid the issue entirely, explaining away his odd habits and eternally-present gloves as some mysterious, ancient Dunmeri eccentricity. Lo’Droj, fewer than thirty summers’ old and utterly devoid of worldly travel, innocently accepted every one of his blatant lies; yet another reason he was growing rather fond of him.)

However, he admitted to himself as he wrestled with the last strap, if he wanted Lo’Droj to help him with these blasted things every morning, it stood to reason that he would first have to explain them. To remove his long gloves and show the boy how the leather twined about his arm and torso felt like an insurmountably difficult task. If he were honest with himself, Moraelyn supposed he was making a terror of his own vanity, but in truth that was only part of it.  

The tail of the last strap slid more-or-less meekly into its buckle. Stroking his fingers over the gleaming obsidian, tracing along the gilded letters engraved into the bones, he gave a thin smile. He hadn’t entirely deceived dear, naïve Lo’Droj, not this time. This was, in a very real sense, an object sacred to his Dunmeri sensibilities. He could hardly allow anyone else to touch something so precious as this.

The hand was, truly, a work of art. Painstakingly crafted by talented artisan-mages, it had been paid for with the blood of several dead men and the calling-in of various favours (those little connections he’d once made by the Sea of Ghosts had proven rather profitable). In a certain angle and a certain light, the ebony reflected like a black mirror, the kind witches were usually fond of. There was something insectile about the glassy, void-dark obsidian, how it shielded the precious bone with muscle-inspired shapes like a carapace, fitting for Redoran ebony. The bone itself was polished and inlaid with golden Daedric, down each finger and down each bone at the back of the hand, the letters turned to be readable to Moraelyn always. The bones weren’t carved to shape; these bones had known the shape of hands before.

“Good morning, Drerrin,” he murmured. He traced over the gleaming words along what were once his eldest brother’s fingers, lingering over each letter with aching tenderness:

WE GIVEOURSELVESTO MAKEYOU WHOLE

The lettering faintly glowed for a moment. He continued down, lovingly stroking the long bones of his second brother’s metacarpals. “Wake up, Ralias.”

WE SWEAROUR LOVEYOUR LIFEOUR BLOOD

The letters brightened, Redoran ebony and Indoril bone heating from within. The old ache of his missing forearm blossomed into a brief but searing pain, a beat of agony extending from his ruined limb as though the arm were not only whole, but in flames; his jaw tightened until the muscles shivered, fierce in his silence. Shuddering of its own accord, the arm’s volcanic glass chimed and rattled against the dressing table, fingers curling in clawed spasm. Golden light spilled from the engravings like mist, wreathing the arm in dawn-glow. In a breath of petrichoric chill, so foreign for the dry heat of Elsweyr, the shapes of two mer suggested themselves from shadow and glow, gathering substance from dust and cobweb until they seemed almost whole.

Moraelyn sighed a nervous breath he always held, washed anew in the daily sense of homecoming, a relieved warmth within the chest. To him, his brothers appeared just as they had when he was a child; youthful and hale, smiling faintly in welcome. He wondered what spectral horrors an unrelated onlooker like Lo’Droj would see; what ragged flesh and howling jaws would chill them, what yawning, accusing eye sockets would stare back?

Ralias’ kiss at his cheek tingled with static as always, raising the hair along his spine. “Another day, brother-sister?”

“Another day.” Moraelyn ran living, ever-trembling fingers over ghostly forearms in greeting, feather-light, barely stirring the air. The numbness that soaked into his fingertips felt warm and welcome, the confirmation his eyes hungered for. “How is Mother?”

“Well, quite well. She stalks Attribution’s Share for the season. Exploring the mazes, I believe.”

Ghostly and gleaming ebony hands rose in matching, languid motions of nereid grace, a flowing dance to test movement and response. With his brothers mirroring his every gesture, the substitute hand moved as though it were Moraelyn’s own living flesh. He tested each joint, the ebony and the gold-bound bone sliding over each other as smoothly and silently as bleeding. “Safe, I hope?”

“Safe and joyous,” Drerrin smirked. “Visiting her warriors. She’s found so many of her old friends there. Boethiah must have known her by name, I think.”

Moraelyn nodded knowingly, delicate lines deepening at the tails of his eyes, contented apostrophes quoting his smile. “And Father? He’s been quiet of late.”

His brothers were tactful, gentle: they made no mention of Moraelyn’s own decades of silence. “Boethiah’s realm suits him ill. He rests in the great city,” Ralias murmured, speaking of Necrom, that great metropolis of Dunmeri dead. “I believe he is still reading, actually. He’s found a lovely library, by the prayer-halls on Derata and Vrenmisu.”

Moraelyn always relished these tiny details, the streetnames meaningless but for the knowledge that his father was happy there. “Genealogy?”

“Novels,” Drerrin chuckled. “Romance and adventure. Says he’s had enough of his own, now he has time to hear someone else’s.”

With arms of grey skin and shining artistry, he held out his hands for his brother’s shades to hold and dwell within. It was no sacrifice at all, to yield up a little sensation and body heat for a time. “Will you take my love to them?”

Drerrin’s lopsided smile was soft, his forehead touching Moraelyn’s left temple, Ralias’ at his right. “They know,” he said. “But we will.”

“Thank you,” Moraelyn whispered; there were so many things to give thanks for that he could not possibly explain them all, though he had tried over many mornings. His brothers kissed his temples, let him move the writing hand they had helped return to him. 

The arm moved easily now, borrowed and shared sensation letting Moraelyn feel traces of air currents, the muted texture of the table’s wood through hard fingertips, as if touching everything with the back of his fingernails.  Every movement precise and unmarred, not a shiver to impede his will, only now could he feel complete.

The hand remained a conduit between Moraelyn and his brothers, a bound intimacy he clung to gladly. They would share the hand’s every touch and shift for a time, until the soft light faded from the golden letters at least; he dedicated his mornings to their whims, a changeable ritual of tasks as likely to involve prayer as it was to involve frying eggs. It seemed more than fair, in exchange for such a gift. “What shall we do today?” Moraelyn asked, love held beneath the tongue as it always was, the daily offering of experience for their mortal nostalgia.

“I want to light the candles,” Ralias admitted after a long, thoughtful silence, dutiful and pious as ever. “I miss the routine.” Moraelyn nodded, kissing the mist of his cheek.

Drerrin’s closed-lipped grin flourished bright and wide, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Pet the dogs. All of them. I want to touch every single dog you have.”

Moraelyn laughed, a tired shadow of his childhood giggle but no less delighted. “All right.”

He closed his eyes when he felt the air pressure drop and fill. Faint scents lingered for a moment, the scents of his brothers; golden kanet flowers and sandalwood, ozone and ash and bad shein. An errant draught, and the dry desert air filled his lungs again.

“All right,” he murmured again to an empty room.

He took up the tibrol-wood cane by his bed, tucked the long gloves into his waistsash. He would have perhaps an hour before Lo’Droj returned from the market. He would have to hurry.

He could hardly allow anyone else to touch something so precious as this.

[afoolsingenuity]

Bite Sized Books // The Arcs Which Time (Or I) Forgot Part 1

I am currently on a quest to conquer my Netgalley shelves by the end of the year (or at least to no longer have 26 books to review on there). I have a whole heap of books I simply forgot/no longer fancied reading and I am going to power through or at least read a solid way in (between 10 and 25%) and give them that chance to hook me. There are a few I know I will review and a couple of 2018 releases, so it’s not as bad as I’m making it in my head… but it’s quite bad.

This first batch of books (because I hope to have 3 or 4 of these posts up through to the end of the year) I had planned to call this batch the DNF Chronicles after I skimmed The Scot Beds His Wife to get an even vague idea of the story and because Duke With Benefits ended up being abandoned. I thought Juniper Lemon’s Happiness Index might be the same as I didn’t think I was in the mood for more YA… I was wrong. And then after being guilted into reading Completely by Nick I discovered that all my unread ARCs weren’t misses, I was just not giving them a full chance. These are my mini reviews for those books.

The Scot Beds His Wife (Victorian Rebels #5) – Kerrigan Byrne

Published: 3rd October 2017 Source: Netgalley Genre: Historical Romance My Rating:

The Scot Beds His Wife is the next lush, captivating Victorian romance in the Victorian Rebels series by Kerrigan Byrne. They’re rebels, scoundrels, and blackguards—dark, dashing men on the wrong side of the law. But for the women who love them, a hint of danger only makes the heart beat faster.

Gavin St. James, Earl of Thorne, is a notorious Highlander and an unrelenting Lothario who uses his slightly menacing charm to get what he wants—including too many women married to other men. But now, Gavin wants to put his shady past behind him...more or less. When a fiery lass who is the heiress to the land he wishes to possess drops into his lap, he sees a perfectly delicious opportunity...

A marriage most convenient

Samantha Masters has come back to Scotland, in a pair of trousers, and with a whole world of dangerous secrets from her time spent in the Wild West trailing behind her. Her only hope of protection is to marry—and to do so quickly. Gavin is only too willing to provide that service for someone he finds so disturbingly irresistible. But even as danger approaches, what begins as a scandalous proposition slowly turns into an all-consuming passion. And Gavin discovers that he will do whatever is necessary to keep the woman he has claimed as his own...

I received this book for free from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. This in no way affected my opinion of the book, or the content of my review.

This one I agreed to review simply for the fact it mentioned a Scot (because who doesn’t love a good Scottish accent?) and I really wanted to enjoy it. I read the beginning and although it was a bit dark and twisted I could see a close bond between two brothers shining through and was thoroughly interested in the story. I thought I would see this brotherly connection between Liam (or a previous book in this series) Gavin and I was totally wrong. Maybe I’d have had a better idea if I’d actually read any of the previous books in this series, but I was mislead and that really affected my enjoyment.

When the book moved to the present the story just wasn't as interesting. I guess I should have read the summary a bit more closely as it did mention that this was about rogues and criminals. I just wasn't quite prepared for it and found the characters a little absurd and I couldn't connect. I genuinely didn't care for their story and ended up skimming through the book to the end. I probably wouldn't have even done that if I hadn't have gotten an ARC so felt obliged to be able to offer some thoughts on the book.

This book was not for me and I admit I was probably wrong to want to read. If I'd have read the summary I would have known it wouldn’t be what I was thinking in my head and I probably wouldn’t have been as interested in reading. You live and learn, don’t you?

Duke With Benefits (Studies in Scandal #2) – Manda Collins

Published: 27th June 2017

Source: Netgalley

Genre: Historical Romance

My Rating: DNF 

LADY + DUKE = TRUE LOVE?

Lady Daphne Forysthe is a brilliant young math prodigy with a burning passion for puzzles. When she learns that the library belonging to her benefactress houses the legendary Cameron Cipher a mathematical p that, once solved, holds the key to great riches Daphne is on the case. Unfortunately, her race to unlock the cipher s code is continually thwarted by a deliciously handsome distraction she hadn’t counted on. . .and cannot resist.

Dalton Beauchamp, the Duke of Maitland, is curious as to why Daphne is spending so much time snooping around his aunt s bookshelves. He s even more intrigued by her bold yet calculating manner: she is unapologetic about her secret quest. . .and the fiery attraction that develops between them both. But how can they concentrate on decoding a mathematical mystery once the prospect of true love enters the equation?

Witty, sensual historical romance that will captivate readers. Romance Junkies

I received this book for free from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. This in no way affected my opinion of the book, or the content of my review.

I decided I was still fancying a good historical romance after finishing The Scot Beds His Wife, one where I didn’t have to flick through to the end just to sate my curiosity about what happened (it was ridiculous, don’t bother) so I picked up Duke With Benefits as I knew it was on my ARC list and I figured why not? I read the first book this series with Kaja and Danya and it was highly ridiculous and the mystery in it hadn’t been great and the characters weren’t brilliant, what on earth possessed me to read the second?

I tried valiantly but this one just didn't click for me. This is partly to do with how sudden the romance is. There isn't build up you are told the Daphne and Dalton have chemistry, there is a rejection of a possible affair to explore this chemistry and then you jump forward in time to the cipher mystery this book focuses around whilst our MCs supposed chemistry continues. I didn't feel this at all. Maybe it had been too long between reading the first one and this one where you would have noticed the chemistry. I don't know, but in the end, I felt like I'd been told more than seen the chemistry for myself, I didn’t even get to the good stuff with the romance because it felt so stiff and forced. Never a good sign for a romance.

Maybe I was too harsh but this romance and this series maybe won’t be one I continue for obvious reasons.

Juniper Lemon’s Happiness Index – Julie Israel

Published: 1st June 2017 Source: Netgalley Genre: Young Adult, Contemporary, Romance My Rating:

This moving and uplifting debut follows Juniper Lemon, heartbroken after her older sister Camilla's unexpected death, as she navigates the holes that have been torn in her world, and the mysteries that Camilla left behind.

It's hard to keep close a person everyone keeps telling you is gone.

It's been sixty-five painful days since the death of Juniper's big sister, Camilla. On her first day back at school, bracing herself for the stares and whispers, Juniper borrows Camie's handbag for luck - and discovers an unsent break-up letter inside. It's mysteriously addressed to 'You' and dated July 4th - the day of Camie's accident. Desperate to learn the identity of Camie's secret love, Juniper starts to investigate.

But then she loses something herself. A card from her daily ritual, The Happiness Index: little notecards on which she rates the day. The Index has been holding Juniper together since Camie's death - but without this card, there's a hole. And this particular card contains Juniper's own secret: a memory that she can't let anyone else find out.

The perfect summer read for anyone who loved All The Bright Places or The Fault In Our Stars.

I received this book for free from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. This in no way affected my opinion of the book, or the content of my review.

This was the point I realised my ARCs weren’t all misses and those reads I’d put off because of bad reviews or simply because I’d not heard enough about them was judgey of me and I needed to do better.

Was this book a totally original YA contemporary? No. Did it matter? Not really. I may have felt like I'd seen some of these characters in one form or another in various YA but it didn't once bother me because this book was about much more than romance or friends (although, those things played significant roles within the story) this book, at it's heart, is about loss and grief and that was what was important with this one.

I began this book unsure of what to expect, to be honest, I was drawn in my the cover and the cool name. I needed little more than that for the story to appeal to me. I began reading and I was still uncertain what the book was about but with the mentioning of a sister that Juniper didn't wish to be reminded of and the various mentions of condolences it wasn't hard to tell this was a book which very much centred around less. It was heart-breaking to see Juniper struggle with the loss of her sister, especially as throughout the book you learn how close the two girls were. They were friends and Camilla played a major role in Juniper's life, pushing her out of her comfort zone to try new things and have new life experiences. The absence is never more obvious when you learn that as Juniper is still grieving and keeping herself separate at the start.

I enjoyed Juniper's quests within the book, especially with the lost and found things. I know some of the choices she made weren't right or fair but everything she did she with good intentions. She was never being cruel, she was just on a continual quest to make things right as she could never do that with her sister.

I enjoyed the friends Juni found along her way in the book. Kody was so sweet and I loved seeing her at the start, especially as she grew closer with Juni and Kody finally got to be herself and break from her old self. And Angela was so sweet with her love for unattainable men and how she was the most understanding for Juni. I wasn't as big a fan of Nate's, but I think that's because I easily saw that there was more to him than it initially seemed (nothing bad, I just saw things coming). It was Brand I loved, though. I know you shouldn't have a thing for bad boys, but I am a sucker for a fictional bad boy, especially when he was a real softie really. I do not forgive all of his actions in the book (there should have been grovelling) but I understood why he did as he did.

This wasn't a perfect read but it had me tearing up in all the right places and I didn't even notice the time as I read and those are really the signs of a good old enjoyable read

Completely (New York #3) – Ruthie Knox

Published: 26th September 2017

Source: Netgalley/Bought

Genre: Contemporary, Romance

My Rating:

Everest. If they can make it there, they can make it anywhere. Maybe even New York, where Ruthie Knox takes her charming rom-com style to new heights.

Beneath her whole “classic English beauty” appearance is an indomitable spirit that has turned Rosemary Chamberlain into something of a celebrity mountain climber. But after an Everest excursion takes a deadly turn, Rosemary is rescued by her quick-thinking guide, New York native Kal Beckett. Rosemary’s brush with death brings out a primal need to celebrate life—and inspires a night of steamy sex with the rather gorgeous man who saved her.

The son of a famous female climber with a scandalous past, Kal Beckett is still trying to find himself. In the Zen state of mind where Kal spends most of his time, anything can happen—like making love to a fascinating stranger and setting off across the world with her the next morning. But as their lives collide in the whirlwind of passion that is New York City, the real adventure is clearly just beginning. . . .

I received this book for free from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. This in no way affected my opinion of the book, or the content of my review.

I got both an ARC and preorder myself a copy of Completely. I was excited for it’s release. I did a happy dance getting approved for the ARC. I was excited! So why did it take me so long to read? In fact, it was a tweet from Nick which guilted me into picking this up (thank you, Nick, you help me make good choices). I will forever be ashamed I didn't read this sooner but I'm also glad I waited until I was totally in the mood for a romance read as this book was a perfect example of romance done right.

I admit, I think I waited because I had some doubts. I loved the idea of the book and everything I’d hears about it but remembering what I knew of Rosemary from the last book I wasn't overly enamoured with her and wasn't sure I'd enjoy a book focused on her and her journey. Turns out I'm an idiot because I loved it. She was a powerful woman who had spent far too long as wallpaper. She finally had her freedom after divorcing Winston and choosing to climb Everest was part of her being her. When it doesn’t even remotely go as planned and she and her team are evacuated off of Everrest she ends up growing closer with Kal, an ice doctor on Everest (I didn’t know what that was either, I got a full mountain climbing education with this one). The romance which develops between the pair is brilliant, their chemistry is crazy, but I loved that they grew as friends as well. Like seriously, they were adorable and I loved them.

The thing is, this is a romance. It has an utterly brilliant romance between Rosemary and the slightly younger Kal (yay for an age difference romance which doesn't feature an older man) but it's way more about Rosemary finding herself and who she is it's her journey to who she is and also Kal's journey to regain his focus. Along the way the two just happen to fall in love and I love them for it. Rosemary was very lost, that was obvious from the first page. She is on a quest to find herself, which I think any woman is who is coming out of a long term relationship and has had children and is now trying to figure out who she was before marriage and being a mother. I think a lot of people will relate to Rosemary. I loved her realisations as she learnt what she actually wanted from life. And Kal! He used to be a sweet idealist thinking he could save the world, it sucked that he had to learn it isn’t as simple as having strong ideals but also work, and failure and a whole heap of picking yourself back up and trying something different. I really loved him figuring out his purpose once more, and the fact that he time with Rosemary helped him do that. The pair helped push one another forward and that’s what should happen in any good relationship.

This was a brilliant romance. I expect no less from Knox and I totally enjoyed every page. Kal and Rosemary are fantastic, the romance is brilliant, and this is a romance with an awesome story which links so well with the rest of the series which I hadn’t totally expected!

Have you read any of these books? Which ARCs have you put off reading for far too long? Anyone else discovered some brilliant books from their neglected book pile?

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[nicktungle]

Path [cont’d]

Blessings upon blessings, I can’t seem to keep up. Everything is I “can’t” this or that. Why do we think that way? Why is my mind specifically so wired to have the perspectives of can’t’s and won’t’s with the inability to process positivity when they slide up my stream? Anyways. I am trying to process all these things as they come and I believe that my vessel, my threshold, is constantly being changed, altered, tested--that is why we say “can’t.” Which is beautiful in itself with a little hint of somberness.  As I’ve mentioned before, I have been on a spiritual journey. The end goal? Who really knows, however, I feel as if the universe is constantly pushing me toward this path. No longer am I cautiously treading through this metaphorical tunnel with the light at the end of the tunnel. Rather, I am my light; no longer at a stride to escape, I am slowly pacing with the ability to see the things--blessings, curses, inanimate objects within arms-length radius. To my left and right are my tools, behind me are the lessons learned, and in front of me--the rest of the path needed to be un/covered. One consistent theme, perhaps I may also be looking too much into it, or perhaps not. Infinite signs are given to us on the daily, it is only up to us to see the message and decipher its meaning, or to simply allow them to pass and not think twice about. What I am trying to say is that what I have chosen to understand about this path are these few instances that I may or may not be reading too deeply into. Enough with the vague dialogues, here are the events that I am going to list and continue to add to as the rest of this path unfolds. Signs of the universe nudging me onto my spiritual journey: 1. Aligning myself with myself allowed the universe to play its role and take over without any of my [direct] influence (subjective; by wavelengths) and pushed me into a world of spirituality to be experienced in 21 days--getting to know myself, my role in mother nature’s world, and the thresholds constrained by years of societal conditioning to be questioned and surpassed.

2. Through this experience, my wavelength crossed paths with meeting Vence. My homie, my spiritual brother, the person who had knowledge of this unexplainable feeling I’ve always had but to put into concrete terms and lessons to be learned and expressed. A week spent with Vence and Dean truly pushing each other to our limits and reaching a few of the highest peaks in California with little-to-no sleep and not only striding through them, but also taking moments, days, weeks to truly reflect upon each mountain and their effects on us physically, mentally, and spiritually. What did each of them mean to us? That week is probably one of my favorite weeks in my entire life. The duration of each climb building my heart and mind with so much energy and to be dispersed at each peak, whether through sweat, deep breaths inward and out, and/or tears. I’m not ashamed to cry at a mountain top. I’m not ashamed to cry tears of joy anywhere for that matter anymore. This was what it felt to truly feel.

3. Following these days, I was inspired once again by my spiritual brother to revisit The Alchemist. Nights spent reflecting upon our experiences, we constantly came back to figure out the goal: what is our purpose here? What is your personal legend? I think it is extremely important to once in a while revisit the things that have once inspired us because as we grow, so does our perspectives. With each visit, we notice other meanings within the same words we’ve read multiple times that take on different meanings, new perspectives that become relevant to who we are today, tomorrow, whenever and whatever it is that we were/are searching for in that moment. 4. Upon finishing The Alchemist, I was also recommended Siddhartha by Herman Hesse. The story of a man’s journey through “finding” enlightenment within the boundaries of mankind and our relationship with ego, greed, hunger, temptation. I brushed off the recommendation because I was still allowing Santiago’s story to set in. However, a few months later, another friend completely unexpected and unrelated once again nudged me to read the story of Siddhartha. So I did. And I’m glad I read it when I read it because only then was it that much more relevant to my days.

5. On a late-night conversation with my loving mom, I expressed to her the issues that I was dealing with--experiences no mother would want to hear from their child--depression, anxiety, hopelessness, distant. She hugged me tenderly. My eyes swelled with tears. She told me she too once felt the feelings I described. I love her, with all of my being, all of my soul, all of my energy beyond this physical plane. Upon completing Siddhartha, my mother summoned a book from her library, The Art of Happiness, a handbook graced by the Dalai Lama.  6. Months later, we all receive an email. The Dalai Lama himself will be speaking at the graduation ceremony of 2017. Coincidence? Maybe. Affected? Absolutely. 7. Every other day I feel like I am going through some type of existential crisis. Constantly wondering where I am going to be after this is all over, constantly questioning if I’ve made the ‘right’ career path, constantly engulfed by every insecurity going on through every early 20-year-old soon-to-be graduated college student during a quarter-life crisis. 

Which leads me to meeting Jumpei. At attempts to keep busy and work toward where I want to be--the considered “safe zone” in this capitalistic society, I study or research music and the various avenues to “succeed”. With my favorite coffee shop getting incredibly busy during this part of the season with college kids sprinkled everywhere, it has increasingly become difficult to find a seat nowadays. One table, in a row of individual tables aligned a long bench, was open, so immediately I sat down and began to construct my workstation. About a half hour into my studies, the Japanese kid in a flashy suit next to me asked what I was studying. Macroeconomics, I replied. “What is your dream”, he asked. Thinking to myself, “that’s a loaded question for a stranger, who is this guy?” I stopped and asked myself that question. Unable to come up with an answer, I was startled. Everybody has a dream. Kids have limitless dreams. Why can’t I think of even just one that can bring me some type of satisfaction? In a string of stutters and verbal circles, ‘I don’t know’ I defeatedly admitted. He said, “It’s okay, I didn’t know how to answer that either when I was asked.” And began describing what he is also trying to figure out in his own life as a recent college graduate. Apparently, he was currently under a mentorship of a couple who retired at 33 years old, who asked him the same question which made him come to realize his biggest fear: not knowing what his ideal life, his dream, was. They have been teaching him how to manage his income and helping him learn the foundations toward future endeavors to be able to do the same--knowledge of building assets, understanding investments, understanding fiscal responsibility, ultimately to become self-sustainable and financially secure. We shared stories. He offered to introduce me and also become students of them and gain some experience before entering the dreaded workforce under corporate america. We shared contact info. I thought to myself, well shit, my questions may have been answered. This may lead to a possible job or whatever the fuck after. Maybe I’m not shit out of luck after all.

8. After a night spent consumed in studies and metaphysical contemplations, I came home to my roommate and his co-workers hanging about in our living room, hookah smoke in the air and glass bottles on the counter. A few exchanges of good-natured banter and “locker-room” talk amongst all of us, I expected nothing but a night left with shallow humor and laughs. Never have I been so wrong. Iraj, the 47 year-old Iranian electrical engineer, began discussing the processes of energy--neither able to be created nor destroyed--and his understandings/perception of the process of how the universe works due to an epiphany from a weekend spent with mushrooms in his undergraduate days. The simple alteration of our minds and the way we perceived things, he said, is the greatest gift you can give yourself. The way he described to us his experiences and the revelations he experienced through years of meditation and introspective thoughts, stuck to me. He said to us, each of us, to the core, is love. Energy is love. We are not to seek or feel, but to be love. Love as an entity of its own, not to be mistaken with romance, we are it. Everyone is it. Neither able to be created nor destroyed, we as individuals and a collection are energy. We are love. And much much more. Furthering the archive of book recommendations, he threw more titles at us to read. I willfully accepted and thanked. 9. Sitting marinated in those thoughts for a few weeks, I continued to bask in all of these ideologies. I’ve come to understand that the fundamental purpose of life is to understand. To be. The purpose which drives us. The final goal of every conscious being on this planet is simply to be at peace. Monks have been practicing this ideology for ages. 10. Jumpei constantly kept me updated with the times he’d meet with Mike and his wife (I forgot her name), and continue to share what he’s learned from them, on top of his day job as a sales representative. 2/22, I met up with him for some coffee while I study for my next midterm and for him to teach me what he has been learning. It’s a simple change in the way we think as a collective, he stresses. The initial lesson began with asset building with settings of a monopolistic firm, proceeding to multiple firms of different depths and markets following the same constraints of a monopolistic firm basically alluding to multiple sources of income. That’s the key, Mike stresses. The atmosphere shifts and we begin conversing on other topics, again reflecting upon self-fulfillment. I come to find out that this money hungry dude is not just some money obsessed guy. Jumpei has an interesting background being from Japan with its intense societal structures and being raised by his grandparents owning a spiritual healing and crystal business. And that all of these money-making plans is just a game to him to break through and out of the system of capitalist consumerism. This kid in an extremely well-tailored suit and flashy watch admits all of this shit means nothing to him. Once, he was a free roaming, dreaded-haired spirit roaming through Thailand as a yogi doing all he can to align himself with the energies toward enlightenment. The same verses spoken by Iraj, the 47 year old electrical engineer. At this point, my mind was spinning, as I shared the same sentiments. The universe works in some fucking incredible ways. He said, look man, I believe we both run on the same vibrations and the universe has united us as indigo beings to question this threshold and increase these wavelengths to higher heights. He believes it’s not a coincidence I sat by him that day and he felt that. We’re spiritual brothers, he continued. That’s why I want to share these things I’m learning with you. There’s more work to be done outside of this game. I laughed to myself as my chest began to tremble nervously and eagerly simultaneously. As for myself, I’m all for skepticism when it comes to crystal healings and whatnot, but I do believe in spiritual connections and magnetic draws in our vibrations. This path I have set upon, fully allowing the universe to take me toward whichever direction, following the omens as Santiago did, questioning but also trusting in myself as Siddhartha has, has led me to this point. I’m on a spiritual journey, who knows where it is heading toward, but I take it all in. And I’m treading these waters carefully, cautiously, and willfully. The metaphorical tunnel I am leading, what I’ve come to understand as, is no test with a light at the end. But rather an unlit road with myself being my light, only able to see an arm-lengths radius surrounding me, but becoming increasingly brighter as I recruit others and awaken them along the path to join with their respective lights becoming a brighter force and shining further to see more of our perimeter as we continue further. [tl;dr] My trip towards enlightenment [influenced out of my control]: 1. I let go and ended up going on a road trip that i didn't suggest nor plan but pushed me onto a path of spirituality unknowingly. 2. Met Vence and Dean and increased my knowledge and understanding of energy. 3. Revisited The Alchemist that allowed me to reflect internally what I believe my purpose to be 4. Read Siddhartha after multiple recommendations which helped me understand what it means to become enlightened and question myself on what it means to me 5. Allowed myself to be vulnerable with my mother about my inner demons, which she suggested a new read by the Dalai Lama 6. Months later finding out the Dalai Lama will be speaking at our commencement ceremony 7. Met Jumpei, what I perceived at the time to be a business connection 8. Learned from Iraj, a 47 year old electrical engineer who used his understanding of physics and applied them to meta-physics and shared with us his thoughts toward enlightenment 9. Grasped the multiple concepts and marinated in thought introspectively to what it means to me and how it is incorporated into everyday life 10. Met with Jumpei once again on a business meeting and learning he too, has been traveling his spiritual journey for years with a background heavily influenced by yogi and meditation. Indigo Children. Spiritual brothers, is what he refers us to be. Find peace. Seek happiness. Become love. My friends, take it all in. Much love to you all.