#avon bright sky

[y2kbeautyandother2000sstuff]

Avon Naturals Bright Sky Collection

1996-2004

Found on Ebay, user amente---horseluvr

[formerlibrarian]

Back when I was a Librarian, we lived and breathed by the Publisher's Weekly Bestseller List. It was my responsibility to print or photocopy the list every week and update our bestseller's display. (Also to purchase extra copies of particularly popular bestsellers.)

I haven't looked at the list in YEARS. Some of these surprise me:

A new translation of The Iliad made the list?!

Ken Follett is still alive?? (I looked him up, he's only 74.)

Danielle Steel is still alive?? ( I just looked her up, she's only 76 and has been married five(!) times. To be fair, I also looked up Ken Follett, he's only been married twice.)

I see some Christmas-themed books on the list!

I see a Disney manga! (“The Battle for Pumpkin King”)

PUBLISHER WEEKLY’S BESTSELLERS LIST: October 5, 2023

HARDCOVER FICTION

1. “Fourth Wing” by Rebecca Yarros (Red Tower)

2. “The Running Grave” by Robert Galbraith (Muholland)

3. “The Armor of Light” by Ken Follett (Viking)

4. “Holly” by Stephen King (Scribner)

5. “12 Months to Live” by Patterson/Lupica (Little, Brown)

6. “Tom Lake” by Ann Patchett (Harper)

7. “The Fragile Threads of Power” by V.E. Schwab (Tor)

8. “Bright Lights, Big Christmas” by Mary Kay Andrews (St Martin’s Press)

9. “The Iliad” by Homer/Wilson (Norton)

10. “Demon Copperhead” by Barbara Kingsolver (Harper)

11. “Vince Flynn: Code Red” by Kyle Mills (Atria)

12. “The Covenant of Water” by Abraham Verghese (Grove)

13. “The Last Devil to Die” by Richard Osman (Viking/Dorman)

14. “Tom Clancy: Weapons Grade” by Don Bentley (G.P. Putnam’s Sons)

15. “The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store” by James McBride (Riverhead)

_____

HARDCOVER NON-FICTION

1. “Enough” by Cassidy Hutchinson (Simon &Schuster)

2. “Killing the Witches” by O’Reilly/Dugard (St. Martin’s Press)

3. “The Democrat Party Hates America” by Mark R. Levin (Threshold)

4. “Elon Musk” by Walter Isaacson (Simon & Schuster)

5. “Democracy Awakening” by Heather Cox Richardson (Viking)

6. “Government Gangsters” by Kash Pramod Patel (Post Hill)

7. “Failure Is Not as Option” by Patrick Hinds (BenBella Books)

8. “Thicker Than Water” by Kerry Washington (Little, Brown Spark)

9. “Astor” by Cooper/Howe (Harper)

10. “Build the Life You Want” by Brooks/Winfrey (Portfolio)

11. “Skinnytaste Simple” by Homolka/Jones (Clarkson Potter)

12. “Counting the Cost” by Jill Duggar (Gallery)

13. “The Creative Act” by Rick Rubin (Penguin Press)

14. “Outlive” by Peter Attia (Harmony)

15. “Fast Like a Girl” by Mindy Pelz (Hay House)

_____

MASS MARKET BESTSELLERS

1. “Undercover Operation” by Maggie K. Black (Love Inspired Suspense)

2. “Bad Luck Vampire” by Lynsay Sands (Avon)

3. “Seeking Justice” by Sharee Stover (Love Inspired Suspense)

4. “The Teacher’s Christmas Secret” by Emma Miller (Love Inspired)

5. “Rescuing the Stolen Child” by Connie Queen (Love Inspired Suspense)

6. “Tracked Through the Woods” by Laura Scott (Love Inspired Suspense)

7. “The Boys from Biloxi” by John Grisham (Vintage)

8. “Christmas Murder Cover-Up” by Shannon Redmon (Love Inspired Suspense)

9. “Pursuit at Panther Point” by Cindi Myers (Harlequin Intrigue)

10. “The Whittiers” by Danielle Steel (Dell)

11. “Trusting Her Amish Rival” by Jackie Stef (Love Inspired)

12. “Texas Scandal” by Barb Han (Harlequin Intrigue)

13. “Marked for Revenge” by Delores Fossen (Harlequin Intrigue)

14. “Hunted at Christmas” by Dana R. Lynn (Love Inspired Suspense)

15. “A Companion for Christmas” by Lee Tobin McClain (Love Inspired)

_____

TRADE PAPERBACK BESTSELLERS

1. “House of Sky and Breath” by Sarah J. Maas (Bloomsbury)

2. “Things We Left Behind” by Lucy Score (Bloom)

3. “The Shadow Work Journal” by Keila Shaheen (Keila Shaheen)

4. “The Battle for Pumpkin King” by Dan Conner et al. (Disney Manga)

5. “Icebreaker” by Hannah Grace (Atria)

6. “Too Late” by Colleen Hoover (Grand Central Publishing)

7. “23 1/2 Lies” by James Patterson (Grand Central Publishing)

8. “It Starts with Us” by Colleen Hoover (Atria)

9. “Mad Honey” by Picoult/Boylan (Ballantine)

10. “Twisted Love” by Ana Huang (Bloom)

11. “Assistant to the Villain” by Hannah Nicole Maehrer (Red Tower)

12. “The Housemaid’s Secret” by Freida McFadden (Mobius)

13. “The Midnight Library” by Matt Haig (Penguin Books)

14. “The Husky and His White Cat Shizun, Vol. 3” by Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou (Seven Seas)

15. “Dreamland” by Nicholas Sparks (Bantam Dell)

[ambient-lights]

Sunflower Field

[limey-self-inserts]

tease

Word Count: 1,086 Warnings: N/A F/O(s): Aniketos (romantic) Summary: Aniketos and Soldagand have a little talk about Ani’s new guest/interest

art tag: @call--me--home, (dryad buddy) @carbo-ships

-----

“And how’s your guest doin’?”

Aniketos stopped in the middle of his lavender harvest, glancing back over his shoulder at Soldagand. He was knee-deep in this particular grove, having found a handful of the plants that were looking on their way to drying out already and as such the bumblebees were keeping those well alone. Soldagand was sat outside the grove, perched on a tree trunk that had been cut many, many years ago, but whose tree had struggled to get back to work and as such was very tenuously returning in a rather low-growing V shape. A basket sat at Sol’s feet, heavy with mead (for Aniketos), bread (for Sol), and dried dates (to snack on during their wandering of the woods while Ani harvested various flowers for his next array of spun-sugar cakes).

“My - oh, yes.” Aniketos had to rewind his mind briefly, the pair having been discussing the upcoming harvest dance in the town nearby. As such the topic of conversation had shifted quite suddenly. “My guest. They’ve recovered almost fully, while not perhaps strong enough to walk around for a long time. I have left the squirrels in charge of keeping them company.”

“You ain’t worried that somethin’ might happen with them left alone?” Sol asked.

“I gave them firm instructions not to get up or push themselves. There’s no concern of anyone managing to enter my tree unless they are fae, and even then the only regular visitors that fit that description are yourself and Alora, so I’m quite at ease leaving them to rest in seclusion,” Ani replied.

“...That it? No worries about them runnin’ off with somethin’ of yours? Mortals can be trickier than fae at times, and there’s plenty who’d spend a handful of coin to pay for a fae trinket.” Soldagand’s brow furrowed in mild concern.

“I trust them not to do so,” Aniketos said firmly, turning back towards the lavender. “It’s been almost a week, and you know I have very good instincts on mortals. They haven’t shown any signs that suggest trickery or ill-intent. If anything they’ve been rather forthcoming and polite, almost apologetic about the whole situation.”

“Mmm, the good ones do seem to be the ones who apologise the most,” Soldagand agreed with a nod of the head. “Got a name for ‘em?”

“Avon.”

“...Ani.” 

“What?” Aniketos glanced back to Sol, and was greeted by a wide, bright and hugely amused grin. “....Is there something wrong?”

“You just said that one name with so much tenderness I’da thought you were gathering nectar instead of flowers. Also, you’re bloomin’ just a little,” Sol said with a chuckle. Glancing down, Aniketos quickly brushed away the pair of jacaranda flowers from the lower brushes of his hair, despite the fact a couple more were bursting in behind his ear.

“I am allowed to like my guests, Soldagand. Especially if they happen to be particularly nice,” Ani replied, briskly striking through the stems of the lavender to hurry into his bag.

“Do you hear yourself right now? ‘Particularly nice’. You and I have talked about plenty mortals who you’ve picked up, whether lost in winter or starvin’ or hurt. You’ve never spoken about one like this.” Sol rested his chin on his hand, elbow perched neatly on his knee as he grinned. “You’re swooning for ‘em.”

“Oh Sun I am - I am not - it is not polite for the host to act upon feelings towards their guest. Especially one that was badly injured.”

“There it is! There it is!” Soldagand clapped his hands together as Aniketos took a moment to stare up towards the sky, wondering if Oa would consider striking him for just a few seconds. But then he slowly pivoted back towards Sol with a smile of his own.

“I daresay you are one to talk considering you were stumbling over your words whenever a certain young wizard was mentioned,” Ani commented. “Stomach a-flutter, cheeks dark in flush, a fear on your mind that you might scare her off with your stature and might.”

“...Aight, that’s mean but I’ll take it,” Soldagand mumbled, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck. “Ah - but - hey! I certainly wasn’t fawnin’ over her right after meetin’.”

“That I’m not privy to knowing. What I am privy to knowing is how a week or so after your first meeting you came to me to confess your heart-over-head feelings about her and then swore me to an oath that I wouldn’t tell her myself,” Aniketos continued on. 

“Considerin’ how long you’ve known Avon, I’d say we’re even then,” Sol said with a short chuckle. “Ani, you bloomed when you just said their name! You’re in real deep. The question is if you’re gonna do somethin’ about that before they wander off into the blue yonder and leave your dryad heart ‘n’ soul pinin’ mighty fierce after them.”

“Like how you and Carly danced around each other for nearly two seasons before you properly kissed and confessed your feelings?”

There was some sweet amusement in how Sol seemed to physically lean back from Aniketos’ rebuttal, his own flustered blush turning his green face to a shade of not-quite-brown. 

“Carly stayed though,” Soldagand brought up once he recovered, his voice sombering a fair amount for the teasing conversation. “She kept comin’ back after she left your tree, and, well, her presence let the heart grow ever fonder. I wasn’t too afraid of losin’ her because she never went far. Even now with the mage school, she isn’t too far for us…for me.” 

Letting out a long breath, he reached down into the basket, pulling out a few dates to munch on. Aniketos completed his lavender harvest, tying the bag to his belt before carefully wading out of the grove. As Sol picked up their basket, he gave Ani a small nudge on the arm.

“I’m sayin’ this as a friend, alright? Ask them if they want to come back. Let them know they’re gonna be welcome still, even once they’re hearty enough to get back on the road. Maybe they’ll stick around a while longer,” Soldagand explained. “You’re allowed to have feelin’s for someone.”

“...What if they do not reciprocate?” Aniketos questioned.

“Then they can still be a friend. You like them, they like you from what you’ve said, the world’s a little sweeter for havin’ another friend in it.” 

The pair trudged on through the woodlands, with Aniketos’ heart a little fuller and his mind turning for plans ahead.

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 22- Dueling a Dragon

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU and Red belongs to @theguardiansofredland )

While the heist team discovers the identity of the dark mage, Mumbo is facing his greatest challenge yet. Fighting a dragon before all of the kingdom. Will he claim victory, or be burnt alive?

CW: battle scene ____________________________________________

“I don’t know how you’ve done it Mumbo, but I believe you can take it all the way!” Joe’s voice is toned in such a way that Mumbo can’t tell if he’s being sincere or teasing him. He’s going to go with the former, only because he’s not sure he could take the latter. 

“Ah, thanks Joe. It’s been a real doozy.” He wipes the sweat from his brow, trying to regain some energy back in his body as he stares across the field. Staring down his opponent. The one person Iskall said he wouldn’t have to worry about. Avon, the other finalist in the duel tournament. “I’m not quite sure if I can take her on, of all people, though. I mean...she took out Grian!” 

“Just barely, and only because of that trident she’s got.” Grian huffs, tucking his arms against his chest. “No matter what happens, Mumbo Jumbolio, we’ve secured our place in the labyrinth event. One way or another, we’re one of the two best guilds in the Chimaera’s championship. In all of Lairyon!” 

Mumbo nods his head, gathering his nerves and shoving them into a little box. He beat the best duelist from the Guild of Gedeon, he can beat one lone wanderer. The points the hermits have gathered throughout the games have held them at a steady first place. But he wants to win this event for them all. To prove to himself that he does have control over his magic. To prove to his father he doesn’t need him- he has a better family. And because he has a taste for competition. A taste that can only be satiated with winning. 

It’s just Mumbo and Avon. The winner takes the glory, a champion of the most popular event in all of Lairyon. Mumbo glances at the stands, the coliseum packed to the brim. Scrying spells are everywhere, and even a few cameras from the industrial cities. Everyone is watching him. It’s terrifying, but also thrilling. This is his time, in front of all of Lairyon. As long as he keeps control of his magic, and doesn’t pass out from his swimming head, he can win the most popular event in all of the Chimaera’s Championship. 

“Go get ‘em, dude. Show them how much of a mega wizard of doom you are.” Iskall grins, patting Mumbo on the back and sending him into the torchlight that illuminates the field. Massive orbs of light, blinding to look at and controlled by a single light mage, chase off shadows from the field and illuminate the two competitors. Avon struts across, until the two are toe to toe at the center. Mumbo realizes the dragonheart is almost a full head shorter than him, though her wings rise above the lion’s mane for hair. The daring gaze she gives makes him feel like the shorter one, however. Like the ground is sinking at his feet. 

“Duelists!” Their eye contact severs at the voice of Magistrate Dolios serenades the crowd into silence. Out of the corner of Mumbo’s eyes, he swears he can see sharp teeth appear from a curling scowl on Avon’s face. Dolios stands from his seat, sweeping his hands to both Avon and Mumbo. ‘I congratulate you both on your strength and magic to make it this far. You are both the pride of what Lairyon has to offer, and even I am astounded at the show of power I’ve seen from all competitors in these games. This will be a championship for the history books, and I can’t thank you two and your groups enough for braving to come here as non-guild teams.

“Unfortunately, only one person can be crowned victor of the duels. As much as I would love to see you both take home the medal. However, Avon- you know that no matter what, your team won’t make it into the Labyrinth run?” Mumbo looks over, just barely catching the tiny nod. More a bounce of her hair than a move of her head. “And you still wish to compete, despite being in third place no matter the outcome of this event?” Another short nod, and Dolios smiles. “A brave soul, I was hoping for some more fight left. Let the final duel begin...now!” 

Mumbo scrabbles backwards, avoiding the sharp prongs of Avon’s trident by a narrow width of air. He trips over his own two feet in the retreat, rolling over the grass and landing with his gaze glued on the crown box. Magistrate Dolios has seated himself again, watching with a glint in his eyes. Completely relaxed, unlike the crowd all around him. Even his fellow councilmembers are bellowing, though two are missing. He yelps, a ball of flame singing the verdant grass beside him. In his own mind, he can’t help but note how much it looks like the blight he saw in Gildara. 

Up on his feet, Mumbo takes a deep breath and faces his opponent. Avon, the very person Iskall said he wouldn’t have to worry about. Of course, his luck leads him to fight a draconic mage. She looks different- her wings have disappeared. Mumbo raises an eyebrow. Didn’t she always have- 

A poison barb rips against the black fabric of his robes. If he was a centimeter to the left, it would’ve dug into his leg. He doesn’t have the privilege to think- not against an opponent like this. But that’s what Mumbo does best! He leers to the side, casting his circle. His head swims, and the spell dissolves away. 

“Not now!” Mumbo whimpers, fleeing the barrage of attacks from his opponent. Can’t she give him one minute? One minute to concentrate, to focus on his magic? He’s doomed, he can’t do this. His magic is too unpredictable, like catching smoke in his hands. One minute it’s there, the next it’s gone. He tries to focus, to follow the guidance Grian taught him when they’d train. But his best friend’s advice is doing nothing to aid him. What he wouldn’t give to have Grian and the other hermits at his side right now. 

“You can do it Mumbo!” He leaps away from another throw of the trident, backed into a corner, but looks up at the sound of Grian’s voice. Cheering him from the sidelines, waving and whooping with wings spread wide. Iskall is at his side, getting rowdy as his voice carries with Grian. Every last hermit is there, cheering for him. Even Doc, Etho, and the rest of the heist team. What did they find? Zedaph, Tango, and Impulse are waving something he can’t catch, the shepherd mage on both Tango and Impulse’s shoulder. Right now, they aren’t focused on the heist, or who the dark wizard is. The entire guild of hermits is cheering him on. Him, some screwup multi-mage who can’t control his powers. Not like how Magistrate Dolios can control his multitude of magics. 

“Go Mumbo! Just cast the spell, don’t think! Just cast!” Xisuma shouts, his mask doing little to stop his encouraging voice from carrying to Mumbo. The draconic mage makes her steady approach, flourishing her trident. Mumbo closes his eyes, and does the one thing he’s never done before. 

Not think. When Mumbo opens his eyes, he can feel power rushing down his arms, lightning crackling against his sleeves and a burnmark where Avon once stood. She’s retreated, eyes wide but a smile cracking through the empty expression. “Finally, a challenge.” 

Mumbo steps forward, summoning another magic circle. At first, the circuits and lotuses wobble in the air, his magic unsure. But Mumbo can hear his friends calling his name. The crowd cheering for him. And the spell strengthens so bright he can hardly see past the arcane circle. He releases his magic, and unchains the beast within. He knew his magic was powerful. It was hard to summon for that reason, like trying to call on a storm. But once the storm appeared, on it’s own or by will, there was little he could do to stop it. 

Redstone slithers across the ground, wrapping around Avon’s ankles like vines. Hungry for warmth, for life. Dragging her down against the ground, Mumbo’s magic traps his opponent. In the light of the coliseum, black scales appear on Avon’s open skin, steeling herself to the attack. The redstone constricts, and Mumbo prepares to send a bolt of lightning down the redstone circuit. But Avon’s lips open, and fire escapes from her mouth and nostrils, like a firebreathing dragon. It burns away the redstone circuits, freeing the dragonheart. 

It becomes a battle, back and forth between the two. A poison barb traded for lightning, fire traded for redstone. Mumbo fends off attacks from the sky, from the ground. They both share a similar form of magic- lightning. Avon releases a bolt, only for her purple lightning to be met by Mumbo’s red bolt. The two wrestle for strength, but Mumbo wins out. The energy strikes Avon, throwing her across the field. Unfortunately for Mumbo, nothing can seem to keep his opponent down for long. No matter how hard he strikes, how fast he strikes, Avon doesn’t remain on the ground. She just stands up, brushing away the blood and mud, and retaliates. 

Exhaustion grows in Mumbo’s body, threatening to keep him down when a fireball burns the fraying fabric of a torn sleeve. He can hear the hermits, the crowd cheering for him. He’s not going down, he’s not losing. He wants to win. Avon rushes forward, her trident reeled backward. Mumbo’s just barely able to stop her, twisting redstone around and pulling it taut. They’re trapped in a stalemate, feeling each other huffing for air. Mumbo can see blood dripping from a wound on her forehead, her cheek. A swollen eye and torn lip, the black scaled pauldron dented from battle and her clothes torn and bloody. Purple fabric of her cloak brushes against Mumbo’s leg, causing a poisoned wound to sting. 

He’s not in much better shape, but he refuses to go down. “You’re really not going to let up, are you?” 

“Nope.” She offers a smile, then rips her trident away. Mumbo stumbles backwards, catching his weight and nearly crumbling on a wounded ankle. Avon is struggling to her feet too, wings reappearing and scales disappearing to gain dexterity back. Now’s the time, if ever he had a chance. Her wings seem to be the biggest targets. If he takes those out, maybe she’ll stay down. 

Mumbo raises his hand to start drawing his circle, and flicks his wrist in an attempt to get rid of mud that clings to the blood on his fingers. Just like that, his circle activates. Holy shit, did he actually summon his magic without having to go through the motions of drawing it? He’s never done that before, but he’s not going to waste the chance he has now. Mumbo strikes the center of his circle, and a storm of lightning and redstone rains down on Avon. Lightning strikes her down, throwing her back against the ground. The redstone clings to the dragonheart, capturing the electricity and sending the currents running back through his opponent. 

She stays down. The entire coliseum goes quiet as the dead, watching Avon struggle to get to her feet. Magistrate Dolios and the Council stand, opening their mouths. They’re about to call the match. Bruised, bloody, and broken, there’s no way Avon can get back from a spell that powerful. Mumbo must’ve won. 

A single syllable escapes Dolios’s lips when Avon rises to her knees. Steeling herself to the pain, gritting her teeth against the lightning still ricocheting down her form. Rising to her feet, leaning against her trident for stability. Her eyes remain closed, wincing against the pain. Dolios calls down. “Do you surrender, wanderer?” 

Her eyes snap open. Gone are the purple irises, calm and collected. All Mumbo can see is rage in elongated pupils, thin and sharp as a snake’s. Scales ripple across her skin, wings growing larger and spines appearing from the crown of blonde. When she opens her mouth, a snarl escapes through sharp, daggerlike teeth. “A dragon never yields.” 

Suddenly, Mumbo isn’t facing a draconic mage. The wanderer before him transforms, growing in size as more ebony scales appear across skin and fabric. Mumbo stumbles backwards, wincing and bracing against the pain as his rear bruises on the dirt below him. When he opens his eyes, he only sees scales and teeth. 

A dragon is before him, purple eyes set between purple horns, islands of color against black armor. The only way Mumbo knows for sure that’s Avon is the tufts of blonde hair at the crown of the dragon. He’s awoken the dragon’s wrath. 

Mumbo yelps, leaping away before purple fire engulfs him. He runs as far from the dragon as possible, about to cry despite the crowd in a cacophony around him. But no matter how far he runs, the dragon form of Avon is right behind him. Just a flutter to reach his sprint. Above the stadium, dark grey clouds swirl and lightning traps Mumbo from retreating. 

The next thing Mumbo knows, he’s on his back. Trapped between two sharp purple claws, the pressure of the dragon’s foot weighing down on his chest. Mumbo struggles, attempting to wriggle free to no avail. He’s trapped beneath Avon’s claws, trapped between the massive talons that could easily rip out his throat. The muzzle of the beast lowers down, purple flames rolling free from bone white fangs. Mumbo cranes his neck backwards, trying to avoid the impending doom. He closes his eyes, and calls out to everyone and anyone. “I surrender!” 

For a second, Mumbo fears Avon couldn’t understand him in that form, that nothing he could say would stop the dragon from burning him to a crisp. But after a second, the weight relieves from his chest, the heat of the fire ebbing away. 

“The victor of the duel goes to the wanderers.” Dolios calls, ending the duel event. “Do not fret, Mr. Jumbo, your team still has first place- I cannot wait to see your team in the labyrinth tomorrow.” 

Mumbo offers a weak smile, attempting to stand up but falling to his knees. He can’t tell if he’s just in shock from nearly being eaten by a dragon, exhausted from fighting for his life, or too wounded to stay standing. 

He’s not the only one beyond exhaustion. Avon steps back, her form shifting back to the sturdy human he knew when they first met. Her eyes roll back into her head, wings stretching out to try and catch her fall as Avon collapses to the ground. Passed out, the other two wanderers run to her side. Red calls for her to wake up, Ecto scooping the dragonheart into her arms and brushing away blood from her face. 

Mumbo leaps out of his skin, someone’s hand against his shoulder. It’s TFC. “Well done Mumbo, you really fought to the end. No matter, we’re going into the labyrinth challenge tomorrow!” 

“And we know who the dark mage is.” Doc whispers. Mumbo follows his gaze, past the wanderers, up the wall of the coliseum. Coming to rest on Magistrate Dolios, leaned back in his seat with one cheek resting against his hand. A charismatic smile rests beneath calm, friendly eyes. Eyes that stare at Mumbo and the hermits just a little too fiercely. “Come on, man, we need to get outta here. This coliseum is a trap.”

[talldarkandroguesome]

4th of Hearthfire, Loredas

I got some rest, but not so much as I would like.

I was up until the whole of the night. I do not know why, I was simply wide awake.

Usually under such circumstances, I am tired enough that I am able to fall gently to sleep and get enough rest to get back up and be refreshed once more.

I padded out to one of the empty rooms and practiced some telekinesis as the Farseer had instructed me. then I returned to bed.

Yet even having worn myself out again, I could not keep my eyes closed. I stared at the ceiling, even as the light grew bright and crept across the ceiling. By the time I was finally getting tired enough to sleep, the servants were already scurrying around and I could hear the voices of the children.

Then Nabine got up. She took one look at me and asked how much I had slept. I told her I had not fallen asleep yet. She was aghast, knowing how little I had been able to sleep.

She told me to wait and that she would be back. I continued to try and get myself to sleep, still to no avail.

When Nabine returned, she had a sleeping drought with her. I took it at her assistance and soon drifted off.

The dreams I had were very strange. Yet when I try to recall them, the memory fades like a reflection on water disturbed.

When I awoke, it was well into the evening. I was alone. The sun already low in the sky, made me worry that I had spent too long in bed.

My whole body felt heavy, my head ached. I was fighting off the effects of the potion, I know.

It took a while to drag myself downstairs. The servants were already setting up the dining table for supper. The children were being bathed.

I ran into Avon in the parlor, who was talking in a hushed tone to an Argonian in Shad Astula’s robes. They were so enraptured in their conversation that they did not notice my presence until the mage looked up to see me standing besides Avon.

The both of them jumped and Avon told me he was sorry but had not heard my approach.

I greeted Avon warmly and inquired about our guest.

He introduced me to Nowa and said that she had been sent from the university to see how I was recovering from the effects the Daedra had had upon me.

I smiled and said I was quite recovered after having undergone an Ashlander ritual that broke the influence of the Daedra upon me.

Nowa said that her peers would be quite relieved to hear it, for they had all been so concerned for my well being. Few of House Indoril had fallen prey to such machinations before.

I thanked her for her, and the university’s concern. I expressed my own disbelief that Daedric servants had been able to so easily invade my dreams and attack me.

Nowa informed me of the university’s offer to teach me protective spells. Avon expressed that they had been discussing which spells might potentially be of the greatest use for me, given the situation I had found myself in.

I agreed that it would be best to find magickal ways to protect myself and told Nowa that she could inform the university that I would be honored to be taken under their wing for such lessons, provided that they agreed not to use any means with which to confine me as though I were a prisoner or a threat again.

It was a pointed jab, but I feel a necessary one. After all, they had offered to help me and then treated me as they would an invading force. Given my station, it was inappropriate of them to have done so, even with Mother’s permission. I needed to make it clear that I was fully aware of what they had done and that, without assurances of their not repeating such actions, they would not be garnering any further support or interactions with me or my immediate family.

Nowa softly agreed and then excused herself. I could already feel Avon’s disapproving look, knowing that he would be upset that I forced her to take her leave so quickly.

I raised a hand and told Avon that I knew the lecture that was coming. He closed his mouth with a sigh and then asked me why I had to be so rude about it.

I looked at him incredulously. I told him of the way they treated me and how they just expect that because my son is going to attend, that I will allow them to treat me as an asp in the mud. They had treated me horribly since childhood and seemed no closer to changing their ways now than they ever had.

Avon looked conflicted. I know he had a good education and considers his time at the university to be very formative. But his experience was not mine. And I had to remind him of that.

I thought about some of the conversations that the Farseer and I had had and the way she had had me share what had happened to me. I decided that I could try and share that with Avon.

Sure, it was going to be a little bit different since he was not a Farseer, but I asked him to work with me so I could help him to understand. He said okay he would work with me. I told him about the Farseer’s words and said that perhaps if he knew a telepathy spell, even a low level one, that I would be able to do the same sharing with him.

He sighed and told me, very sadly, that he did not know any telepathy spells, but that he would see what he could do later in the evening.

I can only hope that it will work. If so, then I think perhaps he will be able to better understand why it is that I feel as I do. If he cannot do it, then I do not know who ever will be able to truly understand what is in my heart.

[radramblog]

Full-Art Lands Pt.2

Hello internet persons, this is Rad from 2/9/21 speaking. I am tired from an early early shift at work, and also just got the first vaccine dose, so I’m going to be posting these words written on Monday when I anticipated exactly this level of exhaustion. This might defeat the purpose of “a blog post a day”, but its hardly the first time I’ve done it and also I think I have a pretty solid excuse.

Anyway. This is a continuation of a discussion of every Full-Art Basic Land set in Magic: The Gathering, starting now with Modern Horizons. It counts!

Modern Horizons

Kind of cheating, because technically the Snow-Covered Lands are different cards, but unless you’re building around them (or a card like Extraplanar Lens) then they’re functionally pretty much the same. These are also literally the only Full-Art Snows, so if you’re running those then this is basically your only pimp option.

Ultimately these are kind of held back by the fact that, well, everything has to be blanketed in snow. There’s some interesting blues going along with the Plains and Mountain, and there’s some fun sky colours, but the remainder is left a little bland.

I currently believe these are worth investing in, for what it’s worth. Both Full-Art Lands and Snow Basics always go up eventually, slowly, over time, and these are still less than a dollar each for now.

 Secret Lair: Artist Series: Seb McKinnon

This one is kind of a special case, because there’s just a Swamp. And there are technically two of them, but one is just an older version of the art. So I wasn’t sure whether or not to count these.

Because of these limitations, it’s hard to recommend these unless you have a lot of money and also a mono-black deck. They look great, matching Seb’s excellent style from the other cards in the drop, but it’s a bit of an awkward one. That said, I just have these sitting around, seeing as I got this drop just for the Damnation, so…might as well, I guess?

 Theros: Beyond Death

Much like Amonkhet/Hour of Devastation, this set has one full-art mixed in with several regular basics. The difference is that these are representative of Nyx, the world of Theros’s gods, with its symbolic and nebulaic art.

There’s no real getting over the part where these just look like the Basic Energy cards from the Pokemon Trading Card Game. Considering WoTC’s hand in designing that game, and that the two are equivalent because, well, WotC designed them that way, it’s a fair comparison. But I don’t think this is why these ones aren’t as good as other full-arts. I have two main issues with these lands, and the first is that, well, there’s no land on them. For a set themed around a specific plane, one would expect that plane to be represented in the art, and Nyx does have actual landscapes on it. I get the space-themed design, but they could have been up in the sky above an actual Mountain or whatnot.

The other is the missed opportunity of these being Nebulae. That’s a fine enough design choice, though the symbology is a bit hammered in, but like. In a set based on Ancient Greece and its astronomical focus, with Gods that look like and are represented by constellations, with a mechanic called Constellation, they probably should have just been constellations. It would have made for a more subtle, less, well, Pokemon look, as well.

 Unsanctioned

New Un-Set, new basics. These ones are kind of a hybrid between the Unglued and Unstable ones, with that golden frame and almost borderless design. I’m actually not sure how I feel about these, since while the frame looks nice, it’s also kind of pointless, and the texturing on the mana symbols is a little weird. I don’t like how smooth and reflective they are.

The art is at least still excellent. Not John Avon, but Adam Paquette does a great job distinguishing himself, less realistic but still believable places that feel fantasy. I actually feel like Unsanctioned was overall a miss, especially since each box came with like 2 of each of these basics, but that’s not something I’m holding against them.

 Secret Lair: The Godzilla Lands

Secret Lair has been an opportunity for WotC’s designers to experiment a lot with card frames, though this set of basics doesn’t quite represent that. I’m not sure how well this one did, to be honest, though they did make future basic-only SLs, so fair enough I guess.

So, do you like Godzilla? Because he’s on all of these, along with some other Kaiju from the greater series canon. It’s kind of a little distracting, because the landscapes are otherwise gorgeous. Ironically, though, Godzilla himself is kind of being a scale-reptile in these pieces, giving a sense for just how big that mountain is, or how far away the “camera” is from the ground.

The only Island I see in that Island is Godzilla himself, though.

 Double Masters

These are just a set of reprints from Unhinged and Battle for Zendikar, but in a more borderless style. I’m honestly not sure how I feel about the Unhinged arts being blown up like this. But this is a reprint set, and these are honestly kind of boring, so eh.

 Zendikar Rising

Another Zendikar more lands etc. etc. you get the idea. Like the title suggests, this iteration of the plane has a lot of vertical exploration in its flavour, and the new basics reflect this. Especially  in the Plains, Islands, and Mountains, that sense of adventure and traversal is back from the first Zendikar set.

Interestingly, this one doesn’t have any reprinted arts, unlike Battle for Zendikar, even though there’s only 3 of each land here. There’s probably something to be said about distancing this set from BFZ- that set faced a fair bit of backlash, and it is thematically very different from ZNR. There’s also the conspicuous absence of the Hedrons, apparently having been replaced in art and in flavour by the Skyclaves. No, I still don’t know what those actually are supposed to be.

At the end of the day, these cards do end up making Zendikar feel like it’s lost its edge a little. They’re just a bit too bright and friendly for my liking, even with the inclement conditions in some of the images. I think it literally just might be the clear, bright skies in this one.

 Secret Lair: The Unfathomable Crushing Brutality of Basic Lands

Yeah these are about as edgy as the name suggests. Monochromatic and striking, this set of basic’s iconography is much more evocative than literal, the mood of the colours in their themes, captured largely without them.

It does greatly amuse me that literally all of these arts contains skulls. Talk about gothic. I like these a lot better than the Theros: Beyond Death lands, despite the similarities- Particularly, that the mana symbols aren’t literally just the standard ones- arguably the Island is, but it at least is in the form of negative space.

I can’t get over how thematic these are. Plains embodies community with its weapons and runes and roots, and the human face on the Sun icon. Island represents the vastness of knowledge with its endless waters and starred skies. Swamp is death, skeletons mired in the depths of the surroundings. Mountain is fire, bold and unflinching, while Forest’s gnarled branches running through the skull shows the unflinching nature of, well, nature. They’re all so utterly sick.

 Innistrad: Midnight Hunt

The most recent addition to this list, and one you actually can’t get yet. I think the frames on these being so thin is excellent, since it means they aren’t taking away from the spectacle of the art- not to mention the monochrome of the border and art.

These pieces are magnificent gothic landscapes, the kind you’d expect to see illustrated on the inside cover of Frankenstein or a Lovecraft story. Each and every one of them is ominous in its own special way, with the Swamp that’s a ruined river town to the rugged cliffside path of (presumably) Geier Reach. And the Island with the waves crashing across the cliffs is utterly gorgeous.

Obviously we haven’t seen these in paper quite yet. And the monochrome may make it difficult to tell them apart at a glance. But these are sacrifices I am willing to make for the sake of style.

This is the sum total of all the FABs. For now. Something I didn’t quite realise when writing this was the sheer number of options for this kind of pimping, and how much they’ve ramped up in production over the last few years. Much like with the increase in cards in general, I suppose, as well as premium product versions like the Secret Lairs. I would be genuinely shocked if the game ever exclusively started using Full-Arts, but I’d also not be surprised if we saw them yearly at the longest. 

Either way, I’m sticking with my BfZ lands, because those are the ones I already have!

[space-blue]

The Witch’s Son

I have complicated emotions regarding this one... I feel like it was a good idea, and short 1k word to truly make sense. And yet it co-won. Fifth competition win.

In the small but cosmopolitan city of Avon, there is an apartment building whose top floor flat is so filled with greenery, its balconies and roof so lush with plant-life, it would have made a Babylonian king feel at home. In the middle of this potted jungle stands a young man, broad of shoulders but with the slender build of a scholar. He leans on the railing, watching the sky bleed through the hues of evening. His dark hair catches in the breeze and dances with the ferns, making him quite the brooding picture.

His name is Lionel Delavine, the only son of the famous French witch Ayla Delavine, and in his hands rests a little corpse. To untrained eyes it would look like the nightmare child of a dragonfly and a praying mantis. To knowing ones, it is an ephemeral construct, created by an elemental or a witch. This one was made by Lionel's younger sister, when last she passed through Avon, but powered by his own magic. It has come home to die, and tell its maker tales of this day: heroics and close calls with death, and the more mundane minutes of travels on the winds and the sights of the city. It was its entire life story: born in the morning, it returned animated by the last bursts of its fugacious life.

Lionel puts the little creature down in its usual pot, and seals it for the night. His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he lets it go to voicemail, his thoughts too deeply entrenched in the maze of theoretical magic to escape quite yet. The ephemeral reported something unexpected this evening: it had expressed a sense of loneliness during some hours of its day, and a feeling of familiarity with that emotion, like it was nothing new. Of course it wasn't. Lionel's magic ensured the Ephemeral was reborn each morning at dawn, and it had gone about its business unknowing it had been doing so for the past fortnight. That vague awareness breaking the boundaries of its natural death is not completely unexpected. The whole thing is, after all, an experiment. It has simply gone somewhere Lionel could probably not puzzle out on his own.

He is but a witch's son, gifted at birth with a single Talent, and unable to learn and acquire more, unlike his sisters. Learning the theory behind a magic one cannot practice is a lot like learning mountaineering whilst living on an atoll. Not entirely impossible, but close. Lionel's pocket buzzes again, and he whips it out to find a missed call and a text, from Sandra, saying 'They're here, meet me at the Corner'.

He sighs, pleased at the prospect of a simple night's work.

----

The Corner is the supernatural community's watering hole in Avon, and inn for those passing through. It is also where the humans in the know come to rub elbows and search for deals and contracts. It is always a busy place and tonight is no exception. When Lionel pushes the door and people turn to take the newcomer in, the din of conversation dies, breath is held, heads nodded, and signs of respect waved. Some tense, others relax. The one thing humans of our age get wrong in their stories is that the apex predators are not the mythical vampires or werewolves, but witches. Lionel may only be a witch's son, but the second rung on the ladder of power isn't a meagre birthright.

He makes his way through the room, scanning for strangers through the crowd. There is a biker in rotting denims at the bar, a large finger buried so far up his nose there must be a gold nugget in there. Three men are huddled over their beers on a table by the jukebox. A red-haired woman is wolfing down a super-sized fish and chips in a booth.

"Here!" A woman with green hair waves from the adjoining booth.

"Evening, Sandra."

"Glad you could make it," she says, looking all business.

Sandra is an elemental, owner of a shop where she applies her single power–to make living things grow faster–to great commercial success. Most of Lionel's plants come from her nurseries. She also grows people's hair and nails, and employs two rather sanguine humans, Chen and Charlie, to work their art on those customers.

"I always have time for policing. So, where are they?"

Sandra tips her head, her full, richly coloured mane cascading over her shoulders, but her golden eyes never leave his.

"The blokes at that table."

"I guessed as much."

"They came back into the shop today," she murmurs, "gave Chen a scare. Ranted about taking over, me owing them protection now."

"Don't they always?" Lionel sighs, leaning over the table, reaching for his friend's shoulder. "Thanks. I'm sorry they targeted you first. I'll take care of it."

"Tonight? 'Cause now that they've seen us together..."

"Oh yes," he says, getting up, "I'll deal with them right now."

Sandra makes to speak, but Lionel has already turned away. For a moment he faces the men glowering at him over empty glasses, then he leaves. Outside the air is crisp now that the evening has succumbed to the night. The Corner is out of the way, close to the canal that winds its lazy way through the town towards the factories. Lionel picks up the pace. There is laughter behind him, shouts and heckles. They're following alright. He veers back into the town, through an empty business district, between large towers whose minimalist entrance halls are left lit and vacant, forlorn like some corporate purgatory.

"Hey, you in a hurry?"

"Yeah man, come over here!"

The men are all bluster now that they've caught up with Lionel in a deserted area. They fan out around him, and he takes a closer look at them.

"What can I do for you chaps?"

"For us?" the tallest asks, rolling his biceps under his shirt.

"You can leave the city without a fight," the calmest of them says.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible. Avon's my home and under my protection."

The last, a lanky blond youth, explodes in a hysterical laugher.

"Your protection mate?" he barks, "what's that worth? You're just a stupid magus. We're gonna eat ya up."

"Chill. We can probably talk this out," the calm one says.

The leader, then. Lionel watches them pace around him. There is an order, a harmony to their work of intimidation.

"What kind of shifters are you?" He asks.

Blondie flinches at his guess but the leader answers obligingly.

"Dingoes."

Lionel smiles in disbelief. Do they really think that three dingoes could face him and win?

"You know, you'd be more than welcome in the community. We don't have to do this."

"But we do!" The leader says. "Why shouldn't we, when this city is ripe for the taking? We couldn't believe that no one's tried, even though it's only got you for protection."

"Don't you think that's what deters wannabe overtakers?"

"What? You may be the son of that Ayla witch, but word is you're always locked up in that tower of your, trimming your bushes. I reckon we'll take a shot at it, ay?"

"After all we've got good arguments," the tall one adds, pulling out a gun. The others follow suit.

That, Lionel decides, explains their reckless optimism.

"Alright then," he says, "let's do this." And he steps towards the twitchy blond youth.

The shot makes a bright flash with a ridiculously tiny noise. Silencing seals? Expensive guns, Lionel thinks as his body crashes to the floor.

"Wow, that easy?" Tall one asks, surprised.

"Not really," Lionel answers, lifting his head.

The man yelps, startled, and shoots him twice more. Blood pools around him, but Lionel laughs. The men's panicked eyes roll, flashing white like the muzzles of their guns. Bullets rip through him and splash in the ever widening flow of his blood, a garish red under the electric lights.

When it has sipped far under their feet, Lionel dies, and takes them all with him.

----

"You okay mate?"

Lionel accepts the dingoes' leader's proffered hand.

"What a headache," blondie moans.

"Sure is."

"What the hell happened?"

Lionel looks at the bewildered men nursing throbbing temples.

"Don't you remember?" He asks them. "You came to me to ask me for straight work and protection in Avon. I'm taking you to Vendict's construction site. He'll have bed and board for you there too."

"Really?" Blondie beams. The tall man laughs.

"Well, you paid with those guns after all, it'll help settle you down. As I said, he's a fox shifter, you'll get right along."

The leader's feature soften, anxiety lifting its heavy grip.

"After so long on the road, and nowhere to call home... Thank you."

"It's alright," Lionel says, smiling back at them. "Welcome to Avon. Now let's hurry, I've got to get home before dawn breaks."

~~ January 2018 – Theme : Rebirth/Renewal

[y2kbeautyandother2000sstuff]

Avon Naturals Bright Sky and Sea Shower Gels

2002

found on ebay, user Vineyardedge

[thecrazydoglady-posts]

Miniature Bull Terriers

Temperament:

- Upbeat, Mischievous, Comical, Fearless, “Terrier fire”

Size:

- Height: 10-14 in @ the shoulders

- Weight: 18-28 lbs

Life Expectancy:

- 11-14 yrs

- activity levels tend to slow down around 11-12 yrs

About:

- Almost exactly like the Bull Terrier

- Square, muscular, strong for their size

- Large, egg-shaped head and dark, triangular eyes

Nutrition:

- In order to not change a dog’s diet too fast, find out what your new puppies diet was at the breeder’s.

- For a day or two a puppy may not eat because of the new surrounding, any longer than that; contact a vet.

- Don’t leave food down for a puppy if it doesn’t clear it.

- If the puppy experiences any other symptoms, then contact a vet

- If not, the puppy is most likely ‘training the owner’, bull terriers tend to do this, don’t put the food back down and continue with feeding normally.                                                                                                

- Follow breeder/vet advice on portions; bull terriers are sensitive to becoming    overweight.

- Ask your breeder for a natural method feeding chart

- Bull terriers have very powerful jaws and can chew off and swallow pieces of bones which can cause blockages in the digestive system.

- Don’t give your mini bull terrier bones

- Raw hide chews should NEVER be given to bull terriers (including minis!)

- They can be swallowed and get stuck in the throat

Grooming        

- Minis have fast growing nails, regular trimming is needed

- Minis are prone to “eye boogers”, just use a damp clothe to wipe them away and then a dry cloth to dry whenever you spot these

- At home weekly ear checks, look for wax (use a cotton ball to gently remove any wax), or infection (redness, swelling, bad odors). If any signs of infection, contact a vet

- Regular teeth brushing and vet cleanings

- Regular baths (every three months, unless your mini plays in dirt or mud (which is not unlikely!) then use a bristle brush to remove dirt then bathe immediately.)

- Use a hypoallergenic shampoo, minis have very sensitive skin.

- Outside shedding season a weekly once-over with a soft brush or a hound glove is all that’s needed for a well groomed bull terrier!

- During the twice a year shedding season (spring and fall) a daily once-over is recommended.

Basic Brushing

You’ll need: a bristle brush, a fine-tooth comb, and a grooming glove

1. Use bristle brush, start at head and work down he dog’s body, ending with the hind flanks (the space between the hip and thigh) and the tail. Be gentle but thorough!

2. Use the comb, use long strokes to remove loose hair.

3. Use the grooming glove.

4. (Opt.) Spritz a little conditioning spray or rub on a bit of coconut oil

Exercise

- Mini bull terriers require enough exercise to keep good muscle tone.

- Preferably access to a yard but can live in a sizable apartment or condo.

- A moderate walk daily is needed after the 1 year point

-  NOT AN OUTSIDE DOG

- A “sudden lameness” can occur in puppies

- Puppies’ joints can’t handle the energy the puppy wants to exert

- Minimum exercise, no jumping up and down from heights, or sudden stops at high speeds for puppies

Training

- Minis will usually require a trainer with a firm hand and a gentle voice, with patience and a good sense of humor

- Clicker training is recommended

- Positive, light, and fun training that keeps the terrier’s attention is most effective

- Heavy socialization from 8-20 wks is essential, and starting training early is a good idea

- Canine Good Citizen programs are awesome!

- Some cool trainers listed by state below!

Health

Ask your breeder for:

- Health tests performed on sire and dam (father and mother)

- Results on heart and kidney issues, deafness, luxating patellas (a kneecap disorder), and primary lens luxation (dislocation of the eye lens) tests

Recommended Health Tests:

- BEAR Testing

- Kidney-Urine Analysis

- Opthalmologist Exam

- Cardiac Exam

- PLL DNA Test

- May have issues with glaucoma, lens luxation, and deafness

- Susceptible to kidney disease

- Regular hearing and eye exams are highly recommended.

Official Breed Club Health Statement 

History

- Bull terriers were created as fighting dogs in 1830s England

- Cross between bulldogs and (now extinct) english terriers

-  Soon a mini version was worked on to use as above-ground ratters (it’s exactly what is sounds like.)

- Recognized by the American Kennel Club in 1991 as their 134th breed.

Other Future Owner Info

Energy Level: Energetic 

Children: Better with older children

Barking: Likes to be vocal

- Can’t be home alone for too long

- Will get bored and tear apart everything

- They can suffer from separation anxiety which can cause nonstop barking and chasing of the tail incessantly

- Incredibly affectionate

-  Unneutered male don’t get along with other males 

Breeders:

Puppies avaliable June 2020 in Georgia - DILLIGAF MBT

Breed Club Rescue: Miniature Bull Terrier Club of America

Breed Club Rescue Name: Kathy Brosnan

Breed Club Rescue Email: kmbrosnan@earthlink.net

Breed Club Rescue Link: https://www.mbtca.org/

California: lilitchsft@gmail.com / Lil’itch (AKC Breeder of Merit)

Canada: jewelsmb@live.ca / JewelsMBTS

Colorado: bantammbt@gmail.com / Bantam

Connecticut: 203-710-9971 / Olmar Kennels (AKC Breeder of Merit)

Delaware: ironhead4990@gmail.com / Ironhead

Florida: minnehahashores@gmail.com / Minnehaha

Illinois: aqualee000@aol.com / Sly Dog Kenne

Kentucky: cmschuur@gmail.com / Old Forge

Michigan: michkdm@yahoo / Ironwood

Missouri: waltdal@aol.com / Eggstream (AKC Breeder of Merit)

Montana: cjsminiranch@yahoo.com / Big Sky

New Hampshire: annlwiggins@yahoo.com / Ann Wiggins

New York: boats776@yahoo.com / Anchor Up

Ohio: omegambt@gmail.com / Omega (AKC Breeder of Merit)

Oregon: dcomplex@netzero.net / Calypso (AKC Breeder of Merit)

South Carolina: blk@menusha.com / Menusha (AKC Breeder of Merit)

Texas: mdsunrise81@yahoo.com / Sunrise (AKC Breeder of Merit)

Virginia: patronusmbt@gmail.com / Patronus (AKC Breeder of Merit)

Wisconsin: minbull2002@yahoo.com / Kenron

Trainers:

Alabama: Island Dog LLC / Hunstville, AL

Alaska: Your Dog ETC / Anchorage, AK

Arizona: Obedient Beat K9 Training / Phoenix, AZ

Arkansas: Clay’s Top Dog / Conway, AR

California: California Academy of Dog Training, LLC / Downey, CA

Colorado: Noble Beast Dog Training / Denver, CO

Connecticut: Secret Lake Dog Training, LLC / Avon, CT

Delaware: Positive Results Dog Training, LLC / Wilmington, DE

Florida: Jacksonville Pawsitive Training, Inc. / Jacksonville, FL

Georgia: Pups To Pockets, LLC / Peachtree Corners, GA

Hawaii: Pro Dog Hawaii / Kaneohe, HI

Idaho: Canine Companions of Pocatello / Pocatello, ID

Illinois: Torbel’s Canine Connection / Bourbonnais, IL

Indiana: Over The Rainbow Dogs, LLC / Muncie, IN

Iowa: Top Canine Solutions, LLC / Cambridge, IA

Kansas: Daiger Dog Training, LLC / Kansas City, MO

Kentucky: Dependable Partners Dog Training, LLC / Louisville, KY

Louisiana: Dog Gone Right, LLC / Hammond, LA

Maine: Pamela Belcher / pamelajbelcher@yahoo.com / Eliot, ME

Massachusetts: PetSmart, Chicopee MA / 413-377-2883 / Chicopee, MA 

Michigan: FIDO Personal Dog Training, LLC / Ferndale, MI

Minnesota: Dog Talk Training MN / Coon Rapids, MN

Mississippi: Pawsitive Companionship, LLC / Memphis, TN

Missouri: Spry Dogs / St. Louis, MO

Montana: Intelligent Canine / Billings, MT

Nebraska: Big Moose Dog Training / Malmo, NE

Nevada: imPETus Animal Training by Holistic Hounds / Las Vegas, NV

New Hampshire: Wagging Tail Academy, LLC / Hollis, NH

New Jersey: Dogstar Training NJ, LLC / Aberdeen & Hightstown, NJ

New Mexico: Good Dog Training Center & Doggie Resort, LLC / Rio Rancho, NM

New York: Drew Watson Pups / New York, NY

North Carolina: CANINE PawRTNERS / robinthedogtrainer@gmail.com / Charlotte, NC

North Dakota: Captain’s Canine / West Fargo, ND

Ohio: Pups Grow Up, LLC / Dayton, OH

Oklahoma: Elizabeth R. Maupin / z.maupin@yahoo.com / Moore, OK

Oregon: Auntie Sally Dog & Puppy Training / Milwaukie, OR

Pennsylvania: Grandma’s Dog Daycare / Pittsburgh, PA

Rhode Island: Patience Inspired Dog Training / Coventry, RI

South Carolina: Bright Mind Canine Services / Charleston, SC

South Dakota: Tenacious Dog Training / Sioux Falls, SD

Tennessee: Ren’s Pups, LLC / Hendersonville, TN

Texas: Smart Dog Dallas / Dallas, TX

Utah: Three Little Pits Pawsitive Dog Training / Kamas, UT

Vermont: Diamond in the Ruff Dog Training / Burlington, VT

Virginia: Paw in Hand Training / Catharpin, Va

Washington: Matters of the Canine Kind LLC / Tacoma, WA

West Virginia: Wee Beasties, LLC / Danese, WV

Wisconsin: Best Paw Forward / Menomonee Falls, WI

Wyoming: Progressive School for Dogs, LLC / Greeley, CO

Sources:

- https://www.akc.org/dog-breeds/miniature-bull-terrier/

- https://www.petmd.com/dog/breeds/c_dg_miniature_bull_terrier

- http://thebullterrierclub.org/ownership/feeding-3/

- https://apdt.com/

[shasharishi]

🌊THE RIVER PORTAL🌊 The river takes its course from the lie of the land. It follows her curves, travelling through the nurturing pelvis of Mother Earth. Her course does not run straight. It does not rush, but it is not always smooth. Sunk in the valley, the river provides a 365 degree view of nature’s constant communication with the soul. We were on the River Avon today for 2 hours and 43 minutes. It felt like half an hour but was at the same time so timeless that it was as though we had passed through a portal to another realm. At one point I dropped my fleece in the water. I laughed as we floated away from it and it’s colours looked fresh and bright against sky reflected in water. “Never mind!” I said, ready to let it go. A second later I remembered it had my car keys in the pocket so fortunately we were able to retrieve it. I love that fleece, but it was nothing in the face of nature’s hypnotic beauty. We greeted lambs, willows, a huge oak, one or two herons, ducks, nesting swans and a pair of Canada geese. We saw a canal boat festooned with many ornaments and wondered at its story. We talked quite a bit, and yet somehow my physical armouring released so much in the peace that by the time we returned to the cars and I was required to drive again, I had almost forgotten how. Rowing is hard work but you don’t resent it. Travelling across distance at speed is wearing on the body. The distance we travelled (10K) on the river would have been travelled in a car in a matter of minutes. We cross energy lines back and forth, we adjust our magnetic location at speed, drastically, and we receive none (or few) of the Mother’s messages as we roar from one place to another. No wonder we are tired. The land, the rivers, the trees are all speaking to us constantly. It is their purpose, to transmit their energy, their nature in harmony with all around. It is our nature too, if we would only remember it. What is this land, this ground you are walking on? Whose hands have been in this earth? Whose blood was shed here and whose bones lie beneath? You are fighting but you have forgotten why. Rest and listen to the stories awhile. *’scuse my language in the video 😁😆 https://www.instagram.com/p/Cc5lOTdoB9d/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 16- Among the Elite

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU and Red belongs to @theguardiansofredland )

The opening ceremony of the Chimaera’s Championship has arrived, the hermits standing before all of Lairyon to prove their strength, skill, intellect, and magic. To everyone- including the Magistrate. And the king.

Ecto belongs to @cooler-cactus-block

__________________________________________

Mumbo can hear the crowd cheering in the coliseum. So many voices, and even more eyes and faces. Can he really do this? Go out there, and be a competitor in the kingdom’s biggest games? His breath starts to pick up, and he turns around. 

“It’s okay, Mumbo. We’re here for you.” Grian is right behind him, calming his friend with a soothing voice. “You have all of us here to help you. You’ve got all your friends.” Mumbo looks around. He can see all the hermits, surrounding him. Beyond their circle, he can see the other nonguild teams. The wanderers, only three strong, chattering. Team Crafted, wrestling with one another. It looks like Ty is winning. And beyond them, he can see the guilds. Hundreds strong, all with matching uniforms and banners signifying their allegiance. He can see Council guilds, noble guilds, guilds his parents were in. Guilds he was denied entry. And yet here he was, among them, among the elite. 

“Never really thought I’d be here. So many people, what if I mess up?” He bites his lip. 

“It’s just the opening ceremony, how can you mess that up?” Iskall laughs beside him. Mumbo can think of a few ways, mostly an embarrassment to himself. His head picks up, hearing the loud blare of music being played. “Good gods, how big of a band is that?” 

“Or maybe it’s just a few but they have amplifying magic.” Cleo points out, sheathing her sword and making sure the hilt is visible for everyone. Etho does the opposite- he makes sure his is hidden from view beneath the blue fabric of his kit. 

“Or!” Keralis hops up, excited as a grasshopper. “It’s one person, who has music magic and is conducting a massive band of instruments.” Despite his words, that isn’t out of the picture. Magic is just as unique as the people of Lairyon, and only limited by a wizard’s imagination. Keralis was proof enough- his magic was unique, his creativity with his power beyond the scope of any normal wizard. 

“Guess we’ll find out in… 30 teams from now.” Xisuma sighs. “All of the Guilds go first.”

“Will there be anyone awake by then to even cheer for us?” Doc rolls his eyes, watching the guild teams start to march out into the stadium. The crowd erupts into applause and screams, some rising higher when people see their favorite team. 

“Aww come on, people like underdog stories.” Joe points out, grinning as he pushes up his glasses. 

“Yeah, yeah! Let’s not just use this as a…” Grian pauses, lowering his voice. “... as a coverup for the heist. Let’s win this thing. Let’s make Magistrate Dolios sit up and realize he messed up when he denied us our license. Let’s win this.” 

False grins, a ferver for competition igniting in her eyes. She punches Cleo’s shoulder, the sound of bones rattling under her cold, dead skin, and the taste for victory spreads like a fire. Soon, Grian’s challenge has reached his friends. BDubs pumps his fist. “Go hermits!” 

“Hermits!” The order calls out, including Doc. Until he remembers that’s not their team name. He quickly clears his throat, removing the excited, joyful expression on his face and returning to his calm, dark demeanor. “We’re team STAR, remember?” 

Grian rolls his eyes. “I swear, you could’ve chosen a better name.” 

“Like what?” Doc dares him to come up with something better. He leans back against the bench, metal cranium rasping against the stone wall behind him. 

“Uhh... “ Grian struggles to think of something, but the pressure is mounting. Doc is snickering at him, and he wants nothing more than to wipe that smug grin off his face. “The G-team!” 

Doc’s laughter fills the entire room, other teams looking at him. “What the hell is the G even for? Grian?” 

If Grian had his wings, the feathers would be puffing out. Lucky for him, his feathery blonde hair was already doing it in response to the anger. “No! It means great, and how we’ll gain the victory! Get the Chimaera’s cup!” 

Doc concedes, putting up his hands but laughing at Grian’s excitement. The hermits watch as the room empties, guild after guild being announced and presented. The crowd never ceases cheering, the music continues to play, and the booming voice of Magistrate Dolios is only hindered by the stone walls surrounding the hermits. Until after what feels like hours- maybe it was hours- the crowd dies down. The music lulls, but never stops. “Dear people of Lairyon. This championship, the 893rd Chimaera’s Championship, brings a new chance for the regular folk to prove their strength among the elite! We have opened our gates to teams regardless of their faction or affiliation, or lack thereof.”

“Like it was closed when he came to power.” The remaining teams all look over, seeing a dark shadow passing over Jerome’s ambered eyes. Almost animalistic. Feral. 

“This new day for the championship brings three teams of independent wizards, vying for the same glory and gold that the cup offers! Allow it to be my exquisite honor and absolute pleasure to introduce these teams myself. First, we have Team Crafted.”  The seven man team gets up, smacking each other on the back and hooting their way onto the field. The cheering is quieter, and the music picks up at a dissonant pace. 

“We have Team STAR!” The hermits scrabble to their feet, pushing towards the entry to be the first out. The entire guild slams to a halt, BDubs using his magic to create a barrier of vine arms. 

“TFC, you go first. You’re our leader.” He whispers. The group breaks open, allowing their guildmaster to the front. As he walks towards the light beyond, his shoulders press back and his head rises. 

“I’m honored to lead such a talented and brave group of people.” He grins, then steps into the light. The hermits follow, blinking away stars and looking around. The crowd is quiet, only a few people with the energy left to cheer for them. The music still drifts around the team, the hermits bringing their own excitement. The entire stadium is full, crowds packed in and watching the hermits take their lap around the coliseum. They can only see the stone work in one area- the crown booth. At the lowest level, the Council of Guilds sit, staring at the hermits with disinterest. Just above them, two men are seated. 

The King of Lairyon. King Sor is at the edge of his seat, craning his neck to see the group. He turns his head, looking back at the man next to him. They share near identical faces, though the black suited wizard behind him has much darker tones of rainbow hair, at least compared to King Sor’s pastel locks. The crown king turns, eyes glittering to watch the hermits. His hair turns bright yellow, his eyes mimicking the same color. The crowded stadium becomes loud with cheering, the music swelling and returning to a new vigor. King Sor and his advisor both clap, welcoming the hermits with a smile. 

Above the crown, sitting in his own chair raised up, was Magistrate Dolios. For a heartbeat, a thread of anger crosses his amber and blue eyes, but is lost among the warm smile and welcome tone to his voice. He didn’t know team STAR was the hermits. What would he have done if he did? He reclines back in his chair, his body relaxed and charisma exuding from every pore. He brushes his red and purple robe, watching the hermits as they march past, joining the elite guilds in the center of the field. “And finally, we have team wanderers.” 

The crowd grows confused, the celebrations stumbling. Only three people leave the hall, puny next to guilds hundreds strong. Red leads the team, carrying a banner twice his height. Behind him, Ecto is basking in warm light, though both her and Avon seem a bit offput by the size of the crowd around them. They take their place besides the hermits, turning to face the crown podium. To listen to Magistrate Dolios formally announce the start of the games. 

“I commend each and every one of you who step foot on this field. The coming days will be full of events that test your strength, your speed, your agility, and most importantly your connection to your own magic.” Dolios waves his hand, and Grian notices his head begin to feel fuzzy, swaying where he stands. He takes a deep breath, chest tight. Is he nervous? This is big, but he refuses to let himself get distracted by the crowds, all the people watching him. He’s here to win, and no one will stop him. He doesn’t let his nerves distract him, though the feeling still persists. “But ultimately, only one team will come out on top, and take the Chimaera’s Cup. To each team I wish you luck.” His eyes run across the guilds, before flicking to the teams. “You will need it. May the waters of Lairyon flow in your favor. And I, Magistrate Dolios, leader of Lairyon, formally announce the beginning of the Chimaera’s Championship!” 

He opens his arms wide, and fireworks burst from seemingly nowhere, erupting the sky with colors and lights only magic to create. Moving pictures and sparkles in the sky, a rainbow of colors as beasts of sparks and smoke dance among the stars. The crowd and contestants applause and rally at the sight, their magistrate showing off his own powers. A multi-mage and leader of the kingdom, he can inspire with his words and his many types of magic. 

Even the hermits can’t help but admire his work, his show. As soon as the opening ceremony ends and the teams are ushered to the street, they are left alone- reminded that despite all his fanfare, Dolios is still the man who refused to give them their license. Who may even know which of his council members is a dark mage, or is just being a complacent leader.

And that’s what festers among the group as they walk back to the inn. Back to the losers cabin, as Ty called it. They can only think of the heartbreaking moment Dolios told them to leave, burning their contract in his hand and warning them to disband. They can only think of Danes and Gildara, the dark magic plaguing their land. Does he even know the true extent of the danger? 

“Hey, you guys want to join us for a round of drinks?” Red cheers as the hermits enter the tavern. Team Crafted sits with them, Sky’s hand removed from it’s glove. His mug is gold. But the hermits don’t join them. They all walk past, though so many want to enjoy the excitement of the championship. To celebrate this moment in their life. Up, squeezing into TFC’s room. Hermits sit on the bed, on tables and chairs, on drawers and nightstands. Most sit on the floor. Tango and Grian find space for themselves by perching on the dilapidated wood chandelier. 

“Alright guys. You know why we’re really here. The Council will be too busy orchestrating the championship, and the guard too busy patrolling the events to notice anything out of the ordinary in the capitol. Doc has chosen his team, the rest of us just have to cover up for them when they go missing. Tomorrow starts with the pageant, quickdraw, and the races. Grian, you’re going to be staring us off tomorrow.” 

“Oh, I’m ready.” Grian chuckles, swinging on the chandelier with Tango, both boys swinging their legs despite the creaking and groaning coming from the wood and walls. “I’ll shock and speed past all our opponents.” 

TFC nods, grinning. “Day two will be the agility and other tests of body and mind. Iskall, have you been practicing?” 

“I’ve got that in the bag, dude. We have that whole day on lock, between us.” He points to the others that day. Stress for strength. Etho for land agility. Joe for riddles. 

“Good. Day three is going to be tough, it’s got both the creative challenge and the technology challenge. Scar, Mumbo?” TFC searches for both, discovering one on a drawer and another squished on the floor. 

“You can count on us, TFC. Right, Mumbo?” Scar chuckles, eyes glimmering with excitement. Finally, he’s performing in the very contest that inspired him to pursue his magic. 

“Uhhh, sure.” Mumbo isn’t so confident. Not only does he have to control his magic, he has to control it in a timed event to create machinery. In front of thousands. In honor of Echol, the god of technology. He feels the pressure mount on his shoulders just thinking about it. How is he going to do this? Half the time he can’t even summon redstone, much less move it to his whim. 

TFC reaches out, patting Mumbo on the back. “I believe in you, kid. Day four, I want everyone to listen carefully. We all know the duel is the most popular event of the games. Everyone and their brother will be watching. The council will be judging, and the arcane guard will have their hands full with the crowded coliseum. That’s when Doc, Etho, Ren, Zed, and Cub will infiltrate the capitol. We need to do our best to make sure no one is suspicious. If anyone asks where they are, we say they’re out sick.” 

“A little too much to drink of nasty swill.” Doc chuckles, glancing at his team. He’ll remind them of the plan later. They don’t need to know the details yet, it only gives time for others to hear, to find out. 

“If everything goes right, we’ll know who is the dark mage by the time they announce the two winning teams. Who knows if we’ll move on into the labyrinth competition the last day.” TFC reaches out, pulling the sash from the bottom of his bag. The mark of a council guildmaster, found when husks attacked their island. Attacked them personally. “One way or another, we’ll be leaving Milliara with more than we came with. I assure you all, I won’t let anything happen to us.”

[talldarkandroguesome]

22nd of First Seed, Fredas

I was wise to prepare myself for Prince Azura’s Summoning Day the evening before. The weather kept us snowed in at Fort Greymoor until the yesterday. And while I might have been able to perform the appropriate rites within the fort, it was far better that we were able to be on the road.

I had bathed in rosewater and anointed myself in rose oils. Then I dressed myself in deep blue satin. I made a flamecloak to keep me warm through the light fall of snow. I was not particularly cold, but I know how quickly the cold can catch you unawares, particularly if you are sweating from travel, the wetness making you colder.

Tel asked me why I was not wearing my cloak. I told them I wished to wear something nice for a change and that I was not particularly cold. It was not a lie. Not entirely. I was not cold. Nor have I enjoyed having to wear the more practical clothing needed for traveling in blizzard after blizzard.

I practically got into an argument with Tel about the whole thing. I told them to touch my face, see that I was not cold. I tried to have them touch my nose and ears, the first things to get cold. They simply refused to understand, saying I would only be warm from having the flamecloak.

At least I was able to have a nice tea with Qau-dar. He seemed to be more formal with me than usual. I am not sure if it was because of the Summoning Day, if his people observe it, or if he was simply in a different sort of mood. We drank rose tea, I made his with honey and milk jam. I also served some lavender and rose cakes. They were a bit dry on their own, made from dried flowers and packed to travel. With the nice black tea, they were quite lovely. For me, having the tea straight, it lessened the sickening sweetness that such cakes can sometimes take on.

I even managed to have a bit of rose liqueur with my supper, having saved the small bottle for just such a day. It left me in the perfect state of relaxation and reverence to celebrate the Prince as She deserved.

It was easy enough for me to excuse myself at the proper times to make my offerings and prayers. I made sure to take first watch and did not wake the next person, so that I was able to softly chant the prayers by the fireside, watching the embers float up into the clear night sky, the day’s light snow giving way to a bright clear night.

It felt as though I was truly blessed by Lord Azura, for Secunda was full and bright, bathing the camp with beautiful blue light, setting the snow to glitter all around, as though it were attempting to mimic the stars in the sky, while Masser glowed like a crimson grin in the distance.

I let the coolness of the night wind wrap me in its embrace. I bathed in the moonlight and in sight of the stars. I felt a harmony in those moments. A peace I so rarely seem to find. I could feel the divinity of simply being, of having life course through me. While I might be without my soul, that does not mean that I am not present or feeling. It’s so easy to overlook that in our hurried pace forward. There is much to be thankful for. Much to thank the Prince of mystery and change for.

Eventually, Speaks-Too-Soon came out by the fire to drink and smoke, telling me she would take over the watch. Watches-By-Day joined her by the fire, so I took my leave, thanking them both.

I went to sleep, turned towards Qau-dar, his hair in my face. I awoke with Tel’s arms around me. Is this what it could have been like if I had not left Morrowind? Might I have been able to spend each night entangled in my brothers’ arms? Avon’s smaller frame nestled before me, Ervis’ strong, muscular body pressed to my back.

The Three willing, the weather holds. If so, we should reach the outskirts of Whiterun by this evening. I cannot wait to stable our horses and then to have a proper night at a tavern. Or, better yet, to bathe myself in mead with the Companions and see where the night brings me.

[coolavonrepresentative]

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[jenniferfaye34]

#Giveaway + Excerpt ~ Sisters and Secrets by Jennifer Ryan... #books #sisters #FamilyLife #readers #amreading #booklovers

If you love Jill Shalvis and Susan Mallery, then you won’t want to miss this newest novel by New York Times bestselling author Jennifer Ryan.

There’s nothing more complicated than the relationship among family…Especially when the Silva Sisters are keeping secrets.

For Sierra it means returning home with her two little boys after a devastating Napa wildfire takes her home, her job, and even the last mementos of her late husband, David. Determined to start over, how can she ever reveal the truth—that her husband may have led a double life?

To the world, Amy’s world is perfect: handsome husband, delightful children, an Instagram-worthy home. But behind this facade lies an awful truth: her marriage is rocky, her children resentful, her home on the verge of breaking up.

Heather, impulsive, free-spirited, and single mom to an adorable little girl, lives for the moment wearing a carefree smile. But she refuses to reveal the truth about her daughter’s father, and his identity remains a mystery even to her family.

As the Silva Sisters secrets are revealed, each realizes that there is more to their family than meets the eyes…and forgiveness may be the only way to move forward and reclaim true happiness at last.

Sisters and Secrets is a moving novel of sisterhood, second chances, and the secrets that have the power to break or bond families—and alter destinies.

About the Book

Sisters and Secrets by Jennifer Ryan

Series n/a; standalone

Genre Adult Women’s Fiction

Publisher William Morrow

Publication Date June 16, 2020

Purchase Your Copy Today! Amazon  |  Barnes & Noble  |  Kobo  |  iBooks

Add It To Your Bookshelf! Goodreads  |  BookBub

EXCERPT: Flames burned bright orange and red on both sides of the two-lane road as they consumed and destroyed everything in their path. Homes, businesses, multimillion-dollar vineyards. Nothing was spared as the fire climbed over the Napa Valley hills, unrelenting in its destruction. Sierra prayed it spared everyone on the road leading out, especially her sons. She drove, heart pounding, fear amped to infinity, with her clammy palms locked on the steering wheel. Bumper to bumper, traffic moved at a snail’s pace. Like her, the other residents had been notified too late to gradually evacuate. The sheer number of people trying to escape all at once down a single lane prevented them from racing away from the flames. The other lane was left open to emergency vehicles that occasionally sped into the belly of the beast. Everyone had to feel exactly like her: desperate to flee before this dark and dangerous road became their grave. She loved watching the flames dance in her woodburning stove, but driving through a wildfire made her feel like she was inside an inferno. Trapped. A wave of terror shot through her, cold fear dancing down her spine. She wanted out. Now. Sierra glanced at her two small sons in the back seat, danger inches away outside. Helpless to eradicate it, she sucked in a breath to calm the fear and focus on getting them out of here as safely as possible. Every instinct told her to stomp on the gas, jump in the other lane, speed past everyone, and get them to safety no matter what. But like everyone else, she tried to stay orderly and calm. Noxious fumes, unbelievable heat, and fire surrounded them. Nothing and no one was a match for Mother Nature’s firestorm. Ash, smoke, and sparks blew all around them while the satellite radio cut in and out, the signal blocked by the thick smoke obliterating their view of the night sky. Fear knotted her gut and rising panic sped up her heartbeat. Every second trapped within the blaze raging on both sides of them made it harder to keep it together for her two little boys. She thought about their lives, how they’d already suffered a great loss when their father died, and all they had ahead of them. She didn’t want it to end this way. She wanted to see them grown, happy, healthy, living the life they chose and thriving. “Mom.” Danny’s voice shook. “The window is hot.” “Don’t touch it.” She’d flipped the vent system to recirculate, but the smoky stench permeated the car along with the immense heat. The acrid scent turned her stomach and left a sour taste in her mouth. Oliver held his favorite blanket over his mouth and nose. His eyes held a world of worry, too great for one five-year-old to face and understand beyond the fact that the scene outside was scary as hell and he wanted to be far away. So do I. Frustration got the better of the guy in the pickup truck behind her and he laid on the horn. Where did he expect her to go? The line of cars had only moved ten feet in the last two minutes. At this rate, they wouldn’t get out of the fire zone before dawn. At least, it felt that way. A rush of adrenaline shot through her again, signaling the flight-or-fight response she’d felt when she’d seen the smoke and fire headed toward their home. She could neither fight it nor flee from it when it literally surrounded her. And so she tried her best to stay alert, remain calm, and pray this all worked out. Three more fire engines sped past in the opposite lane. Reinforcements for the dozens she’d passed on the tedious and exceedingly dangerous trip out of here. We’ll make it out. We have to.

Tour Wide Giveaway

To celebrate the release of SISTERS AND SECRETS by Jennifer Ryan, we're giving away a paperback set of Sisters and Secrets and The Me I Used to Be to one lucky winner!

GIVEAWAY TERMS & CONDITIONS:  Open to US shipping addresses only. One winner will receive a paperback set of Sisters and Secrets and The Me I Used to Be by Jennifer Ryan. This giveaway is administered by Pure Textuality PR on behalf of Avon Books.  Giveaway ends 7/31/2020 @ 11:59pm EST. CLICK HERE TO ENTER!

About the Author

NY Times & USA Today bestselling author JENNIFER RYAN writes suspenseful contemporary romances about everyday people who do extraordinary things. Her deeply emotional love stories are filled with high stakes and higher drama, love, family, friendship, and the happily-ever-after we all hope to find. Jennifer lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband and three children. When she finally leaves those fictional worlds, you’ll find her in the garden, playing in the dirt and daydreaming about people who live only in her head, until she puts them on paper. For information about her upcoming releases, sign up for her newsletter: www.jennifer-ryan.com/newsletter. 

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[biofunmy]

London Bridge Attack Victims Were Advocates for Prisoner Rehabilitation

LONDON — They were two bright, idealistic young people who believed passionately in prison rehabilitation and threw themselves into a program that educates inmates, aiming to give them hope and reduce their odds of reoffending.

On Friday, a celebration of that program became the tragic last act of their lives. Both recent Cambridge University graduates, they then became victims of a murderous rampage by a former prisoner, an alumnus of the very program they had dedicated themselves to.

The two victims — Saskia Jones, 23, and Jack Merritt, 25 — died and three others were injured in what the police have called a terrorist attack in central London. The episode seized the nation’s attention and raised tough questions about the rehabilitation system they were so devoted to, and about Britain’s criminal sentencing, prison release and post-release supervision.

They came from towns far removed from the urban crime that would become such a focus of their lives — Ms. Jones in Stratford-upon-Avon, in the West Midlands, and Mr. Merritt in Cottenham, near Cambridge.

She volunteered with Cambridge’s Learning Together program after graduating with a master���s in philosophy from the university in 2018. She had recently applied for a police recruitment program, her family said, and planned to specialize in victim support.

Friends and relatives described Ms. Jones as warm, determined and dedicated to the idea that inmates should have opportunities to reform and build the foundations for productive lives.

Her family, in a statement released by London’s Metropolitan Police, described her as a “funny, kind and positive influence” adding that her death would leave a “huge void in our lives.”

“She had a wonderful sense of mischievous fun and was generous to the point of always wanting to see the best in all people,” the family said. “She was intent on living life to the full and had a wonderful thirst for knowledge.”

Professor Loraine R. Gelsthorpe, the director of Cambridge University’s Institute of Criminology, which the Learning Together initiative is part of, said in a statement that Ms. Jones’s “warm disposition and extraordinary intellectual creativity was combined with a strong belief that people who have committed criminal offenses should have opportunities for rehabilitation.”

Mr. Merritt was a program coordinator who began working with Learning Together after graduating from Cambridge, also with a master’s of philosophy, in 2017.

“Jack’s passion for social and criminal justice was infectious,” Professor Gelsthorpe said in her statement. “He was deeply, creatively and courageously engaged with the world, advocating for a politics of love. He worked tirelessly in dark places to pull towards the light.”

A tribute to him from a friend, Hollie, quickly spread after being posted to Twitter on Sunday night. “You were quite simply the best thing, completely golden,” she wrote. “Your voice won’t be lost.”

In a statement released through the London police, Mr. Merritt’s family remembered him as a man who “lived his principles.”

“He believed in redemption and rehabilitation, not revenge, and he always took the side of the underdog,” the family said. “Jack was an intelligent, thoughtful and empathetic person who was looking forward to building a future with his girlfriend, Leanne, and making a career helping people in the criminal justice system.”

A vigil to honor Ms. Jones, Mr. Merritt and those injured in the attack was held on Monday in Guildhall Yard in central London, along with tributes to the emergency services and members of the public who responded to the attack — some of whom had links to Learning Together, including former prisoners.

Even as Prime Minister Boris Johnson argued that the killings showed a need to strengthen sentencing for terrorism, Mr. Merritt’s family pleaded that the episode not be used to score political points or justify a tougher approach to criminal justice.

“We know Jack would not want this terrible, isolated incident to be used as a pretext by the government for introducing even more draconian sentences on prisoners, or for detaining people in prison for longer than necessary,” the family said.

The attack came two weeks before Britain heads to the polls for a general election, and candidates were swift to condemn the attack and offer conflicting views on it, including blaming one another.

Mr. Johnson, a Conservative, called for longer sentences, stricter standards for early release and a review of past releases of inmates convicted of terrorism offenses. He told the BBC that 74 people jailed for terror offenses have been released early. “I have long said that this system simply isn’t working,” he said in an interview with The Telegraph. “It does not make sense for us as a society.”

Mr. Merritt’s father, David, criticized right-wing tabloids that picked up on the prime minister’s message.

Writing on Twitter, he accused them of publishing “vile propaganda” based on his son’s death. “Jack stood against everything you stand for — hatred, division, ignorance,” he wrote.

Jeremy Corbyn, the leader of the opposition Labour Party, told Sky News that he believed that the criminal justice system needed to be reassessed. But he challenged the idea that people sentenced for terrorism offenses should not be released early, and pointed to cuts made by recent Conservative governments to monitoring and support for former inmates.

“I think there has to be an examination of how our prison services works and, crucially, what happens to them on release from prison,” Mr. Corbyn said. He pointed out that the parole board was not involved in the release from prison of Usman Khan, the man who carried out Friday’s attack.

Mr. Khan, 28, was part of a gang that plotted in 2010 to plant explosives in the London Stock Exchange. He was sentenced to 16 years in prison but was released last year, having served eight years of the sentence. The judge at his trial had warned about the threat he might still have posed to the public.

Mr. Khan’s lawyer, Vajahat Sharif, told Sky News on Sunday that he believed that cases of “ideological offenders,” like Mr. Khan, were especially complex.

To ensure public safety, he said, “specialists need to get involved in the custodian element of the sentence” for several years before a person is released from prison on parole.

Former prisoners, probation staff members, students and experts on criminology from across Britain had gathered on Friday for the fifth anniversary celebration of the Learning Together program when Mr. Khan began attacking those in attendance with a knife.

He then ran onto nearby London Bridge, where he was wrestled to the ground by bystanders before being shot and killed by the police, who said he appeared to be wearing a hoax explosive device.

Friday’s attack left Londoners shaken by yet another burst of terrorist violence. In an attack carried out on the same bridge in June 2017, three men killed eight people before being killed by the police. Another episode earlier that year on nearby Westminster Bridge left six people dead, including the attacker.

Both Mr. Corbyn and Mr. Johnson attended Monday’s vigil, as did London’s mayor, Sadiq Khan, who addressed the crowd after a moment of silence.

“We come together this morning as Londoners to remember, to honor and to mourn the innocent lives lost as a result of the horrific terrorist attack this Friday,” the mayor said.

He asked for the city’s residents to “take hope from the heroism of ordinary Londoners and our emergency services who ran toward danger, risking their lives to help people they didn’t even know.”

Sahred From Source link World News

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