#but just know if sunday could he’d place you in his paradise so domestic and sweet <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[merakiui]

low-key I have been having BRAIN WORMS since Sundays myraid trailer because like his perfect sunny little dream is his sister looking all sweet and decent and domestic.....imagine you're like, his step sis or whatever and hes just got this vision for you, where you're all perfect and domestic like 🥹....DO YOU SEE THE VISION

I SEE THE VISION!!!! THE VISION IS SO TANGIBLE, IN FACT. Omg,,, as soon as I saw his “perfect paradise” I couldn’t help but think of how pastoral fantasy it seemed. Just,,, the windmills???? The sprawling land and hills??? Sunday, what is this domestic farm life you’ve envisioned??? 🤨 and the way Robin is dressed so modestly, singing to all of the children!!! It’s a really gentle sort of paradise. Even the sun is smiling. T_T Sunday is so cute. His intentions and dreams really are pure at heart. I think he’s the sort of man to take on all of these sins and guilts just so you can be happy and pure and always innocent.

Yes, he knows it’s so very wrong to lust for his stepsister in such lecherous ways. A taboo and a sin, the sort of thing that isn’t considered normal. May Xipe forgive him…or smite him on the spot for having such despicable thoughts. >_< he just can’t help it, and his access to the Dreamscape and its wonders only worsens this feverish indulgence of his. He knows this you is merely a figment, a vivid dream crafted from his own feelings and memories and desires, and there’s so much that needs to be filled in on account of his inexperience. Like what you look like beneath your clothes or how you taste.

These things aren’t perfectly replicated here, but then it’s with the help of anatomy textbooks and pornography from the various pleasure parlors scattered throughout the seedy parts of Penacony that help sketch a lifelike you. A stepsister who embraces her filthy, no-good devil of a stepbrother. And he feels you beneath him, warm and wonderful and alive (in a dreamy sort of way) and you’re a fantasy come to life. Oh, what he’d give to make this reality. He must work hard to accomplish this—to build a paradise befitting an angel like yourself, where you live peacefully and happily, where every day is just as idyllic as it is in a dream.

Sunday knows he ought to confess all of these terrible things—seat himself on the other side of that confessional and attempt to atone. He shouldn’t use the Dreamscape for such nefarious purposes. He shouldn’t use it to become someone else, to hide his appearance and take on that of your preferences or anyone attractive enough to catch your fancy. Rather, the idea that you’d want anyone else feels like punishment enough. He’s not worthy of you, but if anyone else were to have you he’d do everything within his power to be rid of them. What happens in the Dreamscape stays in the Dreamscape, and he would never want to deceive you or hurt you or defile you. But these dates are everything to him. The kisses and the handholding. Sometimes he forgets he’s not himself when it’s like this, and that it’s when he catches his reflection in a window that he realizes it could never be him, even if he’s so painfully himself. Still so neurotic and anxious and control-crazy; everything must be perfect, even in a dream. It’s what you deserve. Only the best and finest of sweet dreams.

He thinks it’d be easier if you could hate him outright or want to be rid of him somehow, but if that were to happen he’s not sure he could live with himself or the pain or the guilt or…everything.

But he would do anything to see you smile, even if it’s at the cost of his own.

And of course you’re not stupid. You know this mysterious man you’ve been dating in the Dreamscape is your stepbrother. :) he’s not very good at disguising his personality and quirks even when he looks like someone else. He doesn’t have to go to such wild lengths to be with you, but if you tell that to Sunday he may just cry from the relief and the doubt and the disbelief and every other feeling that comes crashing in all at once.

[angrylizardjacket]

Run to Paradise {Nikki Sixx} Part 21

21. you look like a man you’ll never meet

Summary: They all have houses! The tour is over! Lola and Nikki fight about what is and isn’t a shitty father! 

Warnings: uh, drinking and drugs and blowjobs in ikea but not explicitly. arguments about shitty parents.

ragtag bunch of misfits: @starlalove @toofasttofallinlove  @xrosegoldwolfx @obsessivesky  @trpwthme @lovehelpmewrite @colsons-crue  @marvelismylifffe  @lilytalebi @glitterdreamsz  @freddiessmallnipples @crazysaladchopshop @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies  @dramatique-moi  @missqueeniewrites @calspixie  @aryssav @catsoo12  @sweetshutter @silvertonguedserpent  @shamelessobsessions @lavenderbones22  @keepcalm-and-beyou @scarecrowmax  @nicholeh7 @unknownoblivion

{masterlist}

Three houses. No license. Three different sets of emotions and feelings that can pass for love. More money than her family ever had locked in a safe in the back of her closet with her piano score books.

When they get back from tour, the four of them clear out what little shit they care about from the apartment. Vince doesn't even bother coming to collect anything.

"If I've left any shit there, burn it."

Tommy, after hearing that, follows his lead, but he comes along for nostalgia, if nothing else. Nikki collects a few stashes of drugs and cash that he'd left behind in case of emergency. Lola collects up the porn magazines and piano sheet music she'd left in the closet, along with a folded up piece of paper that Tommy snatches the moment it catches his interest. His expression turns amused as he unfolds it.

"You have got the weirdest fuckin' spank bank, Lo," he turns the photo to Nikki, who laughs, though Lola's expression sours considerably and she tries to awkwardly get the picture back, "seriously, in with all those nudie mags you've got a fuckin' photocopy of a burnt picture of an old, Hawaiian dude?" He squints at words written on the back, reads out the first of two names; "Oh, Maleko Fields, sounds saucy, or is he Kaitlin?" Lola actually flinches at that, but he doesn't seem to notice, "Either way, I've gotta hand it to you, that's an extremely specific-"

"That's my dad, you asshole!" It comes out as a growl, and Tommy's face falls. Lola grabs the old picture back, carefully refolding it and tucking it into the front of one of the piano books.

The three of them are looking for places, but they crash on Vince's sofa until they find ones they like, though it doesn't take long. They're not exactly picky, just wanting something gaudy, with a good view, and a pool, and more bathrooms than any of them rightly need. Lola doesn't care much about how the house is decorated, but she calls up Doc the morning after she and Nikki are given the keys; she wants a piano, and she wants him to put her in touch with whoever can give her the gaudiest, most expensive piano known to man.

"I want Elton John to have fucked on it, I want those keys diamond encrusted, I want Freddie fucking Mercury to have done coke off of it, I want the Piano Man piano!" She announces, standing in the sparsely decorated living room, hand on her hip, looking out the window, already feeling herself getting bored of the conversation and wanting to explore the balcony and the view beyond.

"Are you fucking high? It's not even nine," Doc grumbles. It's a Sunday, Lola doesn't even consider for a second that she might have woken him up. If you pay enough money, anyone will get up when you ask, real estate agents and band managers alike, is how she reasons it.

"Of course I'm fucking high, and I've got a house of my own and cash to blow; I want what Johann Sebastian Bach had! I want Tchaikovsky, I want Stravinsky, I want fucking Gershwin!" She demanded, getting louder and more dramatic with each name she rattled off.

"If you yell one more composer at me, you're fired." Doc cuts her off, before yawning, "listen; you guys are coming in next week to start work on the new album, right? I'll get a number for you by then if you promise to make sure they're here on time."

"On time?" Lola actually laughs. Doc sighs, and gives her an hour leeway, but they come to an agreement.

Nikki's still asleep on the mattress on the floor of their new bedroom, but Lola's strung out body clock had her up at four in the morning, and she hasn't been able to get back to sleep. She watched the sun rise over the LA skyline on one side of the house, lost track of time watching the ocean from their balcony on the other side while drinking a bottle of spiced rum, swam naked in their brand new pool, and tried to make a list of all the furniture they needed to buy, but just ended up writing sofa and underlining it five times as she lay on the plush carpet of the living room.

The photocopy of the photo of Lola's father sits on the kitchen island, staring silently at the ceiling; Nikki calls it creepy when he wakes up. He laments for a moment about not having a fridge before pulling a beer from the case they'd opened the night before in celebration.

"Why is it burned?" He asks, cracking the can, "and why haven't you finished the job?" He snickers and takes a loud, obnoxious sip. Lola gives him a shove, glaring down at the picture for a long moment.

"Because he's fuckin' out there somewhere, and what if I forget what he looks like?" She turns, raising her eyebrows at Nikki expectantly.

"So you keep it around so you know who to burn when the real thing shows up?" He asks, and Lola scowls. "Why don't I know shit about your parents?" Nikki asks bluntly. Lola takes the drink from his hands and begins to gulp it down, but he steals it back, and ends up getting beer all over both of them in the struggle.

"I'm not gonna burn my dad," Lola, beer covered and strung out at midday on a Sunday, speaks in a tone that Nikki can't quite identify. Her hand comes up to scratch at her shoulder blade, and he's not even sure if she's aware that she's doing it. "He was great, okay? When he was around he was great. When - when he comes back, I wanna show him that I'm better, alright? That - you know what? Fuck it, I don't have to explain shit to you, Nikki." Her whole face scrunches up and she picks up the photo.

"If he was such a great fuckin' guy, why'd he leave? Great dads don't fuckin' do that-"

Lola pushes Nikki had enough that he actually falls on his ass, and there's tears in her eyes.

"I get that you're dad's an asshole, Frankie, but-"

"Shut up!" Nikki snaps, scrambling to his feet, expression furious, "you fucking bitch, that's not my name-"

"Don't talk shit about my fucking dad!" Lola steps up to him, her hands braced against his chest, but he catches her wrists before she can shove him again.

"He sounds like a fucking dirtbag!"

"You're the dirtbag; don't take your daddy issues out on me!" Lola doesn't fight his hold, just glares up at him as tears begin to flow down her cheeks. Nikki's mouth is pressed into a thin, unhappy line.

"A dirtbag with daddy issues, and mommy issues; a slut with no standards, no taste, and good hair?" He laughs but it's bitter; he won't let her go, still holding her to him by her wrists. Lola's still crying, face twisted and angry, but she doesn't step back or try and escape his grip, "we're two sides of the same fuckin' coin, Kaitie, and I know from shit dads. If your fuckin' dirtbag dad wasn't there when he could have been, when he should have been, then he's shit." His grip on her hands tightens just a little. "No exceptions. Burn his picture."

The damn bursts and Lola actually wails, presses her forehead to Nikki's chest. He doesn't hug her, his expression is stony as he tries not to think too hard about the moment he found himself in. He'd made Lola cry.

"You look just like him anyways." He's not sure what he means by that, and he's not even sure if Lola registered it.

"I hate you." He hears her sniffle quietly.

"You'll get over it."

It's the worst fight they've had in a while, and Lola pins her father's photo directly to the living room wall out of spite. She stays with Tommy for a few days, but Nikki still doesn't touch the picture.

With Tommy, she actually goes grocery shopping with him, as strangely domestic as it is. They take turns pushing the cart too fast down the aisles while the other rides on the front until Tommy loses control and Lola ends up winded and crushed against the cereal boxes. They try to cook together and almost start a fire, and end up eating pizza that first night Lola stays at the house. Tommy's sofa is excessively big, and they could easily spread out in space of their own, but they enjoy being tangled up with each other while Invasion of the Body Snatchers plays on his brand new TV.

If she never wanted to go back to Nikki, she knows she probably wouldn't have to. They haven't even been living together officially for two days and they're already fighting. Her body clock is fucked, and she contemplates her life at five in the morning, watching the gentle rise and fall of Tommy's chest with his breathing as he sleeps soundly.

She loved Tommy, and she knew he loved her, and the same could be said for Vince, and even Mick, though to a much lesser extent. The point is, if she wanted to keep running from herself, she'd never lack accommodation, she'd never lack love, in one way or another. Doc had once told her that she was very easy to love, when she wanted to be, very easy to be endeared towards when she wasn't spitting acid or starting a fight or kicking up a stink. Even Doc himself admitting to being rather endeared to her, though he clarified that 'it's like the love you have for a rescue animal, a stray you nurse back to health and give to a shelter'. She's smacked him angrily, and told him she was a person. Doc agreed, but his words had stuck with her.

Very easy to love. Very hard to like.

When she gets back to her house, it's almost six, almost sunrise, the house is still mostly empty, and Nikki's awake. The picture's still on the wall, and he's sitting on a deck chair on the balcony with a bottle of Jack for company. The sun rises on the other side of the house, but he's fixated on the ocean.

"His name was Maleko, and my mom's name was Irene."

"I didn't-" he seems confused to see her there at all. But Lola's quick to cut him off.

"Shut up, I'm telling you about my parents," Lola grabbed the bottle from him, sitting cross legged on the cool tiles right by him, looking out at the ocean.

"Why?"

"Because I've know you for years, and it's weird that I haven't told you about my family, okay? You were right." She tipped the bottle back, swallowing hard.

"You look like your dad," Nikki's voice is softer this time, though it's neither positive nor negative, and Lola snorted a laugh.

"Yeah, it was the only part about me mom liked after he left." She inhaled sharply, passing back the bottle, "like I said, his name was Maleko, but from what I can remember, he went by Leo, and I don't know why he left, but he's not a damn dirtbag, okay? He was kinder than my fucking mom ever was, and-" she clenched her jaw, pausing for a moment to search her jacket pockets for her cigarettes, before lighting one, "and listen, I just wanted him to be proud, I just wanted him to smile again, because I swear that motherfucker was made of sunshine." She angrily wiped a tear from her eye before it spilled.

Nikki was quiet for a very long time, didn't know what to say, still up from the night before, and drunk as all hell. He reached out and scratched at Lola's scalp gently, in liu of a reaction. She just laughed.

"Why- why 're you back?" Nikki asked finally.

"Do you like me, Nikki?" She counters with, and Nikki hums a little, still scratching her hair.

"Of course, you're one of the few assholes I can put up with for more than a few days at a time," it's not the highest compliment in the world, but Lola's beaming nonetheless.

"I think I like you too," she snorted. Nikki's stopped scratching her head and is raising the bottle of Jack to his lips, frowning.

"Did we go back to the damn third grade? What's gotten into you?"

The house is undecorated because Nikki says he didn't have the patience to not go into a homicidal rage in IKEA. He won't admit that it felt weird to be buying furniture for their house without Lola. It's decorated mostly in blacks, or dark chestnut wood, and the bedframe is strong enough that Lola won't break it if she's tied up to it, and Lola buys a frame for her father's photo. They buy a new sofa, and Lola feels the strangest, most irrational twinge of guilt, like she's betrayed the sofa they pulled off the curb all those years ago; she tells Nikki and he smirks, offers to buy a box cutter and slash the sofa up to make it feel like home.

"Or we could just fuck on it until it's got just as many stains," he grins, it's all sharp teeth and the promise of a bigger bite.

"Now you're speaking my language," she smirks back, and she grabs his hand, pulls him behind a display bedroom set with a particularly large cupboard. She sucks him off before some underpaid assistant can interrupt them, and he repays the favor in the store's bathroom, and somehow this is the strangest situation they've ever gotten each other off in. Clubs, pubs, hotel pools, closets at TV studios, parks, alley ways, any number of places on tour that Lola honestly doesn't remember - they've got nothing on a furniture store where they're deciding on furnishings for their shared house. Lola doesn't want to think about why that is, so she just enjoys the moment.

It seems like no time at all before they're back in the studio, and so when they're not working, they're drinking, and partying, and using their mansions the way LA mansions often found themselves being used; for parties.

Tommy's out every night in LA, still looking like he could walk on stage at any minute, but he has a few starlets calling him up every so often. If he's not at clubs, he's with the Vince at a strip club, and sometimes Nikki's with them, though Lola's there about as often as Vince. Vince himself got his heart caught on a woman he meets at a club named Sharise, who is lovely and loud and beautiful, and she calls Lola 'sweetheart' without making it sound condescending, even when she's coming out of Vince's mansion and Lola's coming in, both fully aware of the situation at hand.

"I'm pretty sure she doesn't actually know my name," Lola sits on Vince's marble countertops in her underwear, eating grilled cheese in the afternoon. Later, Tommy and a few other guys Lola sort of knows will be around, pregaming before they hit the town. Maybe Sharise will come by, maybe she'll bring friends; Lola likes when she brings friends, finds she likes getting ready to go out with girls, sometimes even more than getting ready with the band.

Back in the present, with Lola on the counter, Vince laughs where he's mixing a bunch of spirits in a fancy glass and calling it a cocktail, even though it seems closer to molotov rather than anything you'd be able to find at a bar.

"Sorry, baby, do you want a formal introduction?" He asks, and offers the drink to Lola to try.

"Needs more Captain Morgan," Lola wrinkled her nose after a hearty gulp, handing it back, "and yeah, maybe, I don't know; you seem pretty serious about her."

"Why've you gotta keep drinking like you're broke, at this point I'm begging you to get better taste," Vince took back his drink with a faux wounded expression, holding it to his chest before he took a tentative sip. Lola's eyes shined with amusement.

"Believe me, lover boy, you don't want me to raise my standards in any way, shape, or form." Her leg comes down from the counter, dangling by the cabinets, and she leans back onto her elbows, cheeky smile on her lips as she poses, a challenging look in her eyes.

"Ouch," Vince snorts, but he's clearly not hurt by her words as he leans in and kisses her. When he pulls back, however, he's more contemplative than Lola's used to seeing him, and he sips his drink again before letting his thoughts form words; "I mean, yeah, Sharise-" he pauses, "there's just something about her, dude, she's hot and sweet and fuck, she's got a real bite to her-"

"Of course, you wouldn't like her half as much if she wasn't at least a little bit mean to you," Lola teased.

"Watch it, it's the only reason I keep you around anymore," Vince fires back with a smirk, and though they both know it's not true, Lola plays along.

"Oi! I also give fantastic head."

Sharise is going to be around for a while, and she and Lola get along well enough, so Vince will walk that tightrope as long as he possibly can.

Lola splits her time between houses, between her partners, although occasionally Tommy will spend the night with her and Vince, or her and Nikki, though Nikki's never been one to take the initiative the way the others would. Both Vince and Nikki's places have a piano, while Tommy has a keyboard in his studio, and Lola finds herself playing more and more.

For a while, for a good, long while, Lola thinks she might be happy. She finds herself taking less pills, if only to clear her head enough to remember how to play her favourite songs, though she's still drinking rum like it's water, and taking more coke than any reasonable person probably should.

It won't last, this feeling, this contentment, she knows it won't last, but right now, she's playing Elton John, watching the sun set over the Ocean, while Nikki applies his eyeliner in the bathroom, and Vince is singing along where he's eating Chinese food in the kitchen with Tommy. Someone rings the doorbell, and she can hear more cars pulling up, and there's a strange, warm pride that fills her chest.

[littleredroseonthevalley]

An Opera on Separation - Chapter 9

Prologue | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | CH. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 | Ch. 15 | Ch. 16 | Ch. 17 | Ch. 18 |

Summary: Nathan gets out of jail on parole and electronic monitoring, but he is up for a bad surprise. Will Emily’s good deeds come back and haunt her?

Rating: T - Content not suitable for children.  Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with minor suggestive adult themes.

Words: 1405

Notes: So, chapter nine. Things have been moving fast. That tends to happen when you publish two to three chapters a week, right? I might even finish it before we hear from The Senior.

Don’t forget to read, review, follow and subscribe to the taglist. That’s an awful amount of things to do, you say? Well, deal with it.

No, really, do it.

Jailhouse Rock

Nathan changed into the clothing that was provided for him by the wardens, made his bunk one last time and walked over to the exit gate.

He had been detained at the FBI jail since Monday, and it was Thursday. Four days in and he is already asking for a reprieve, and he was yet to reach a federal prison.

As he arrives at the waiting room of the building, two figures walk over to him to greet him.

“Nathan!” Emily exclaims, concerned with his well-being. “How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

“What are you doing here, Emily?” He asks, gruffly.

“I emailed her to come, Mr. Sterling.” The lawyer, Mr. Goldstein, said, with a stern stare at his client. “Decisions had to be made, and Miss Daniels wasn’t available to make them.”

“What do you mean she’s not available?” The fair-headed man asks, confused.

“She’s gone, Nathan.” The woman answers instead, calmly. “She gathered everything of some value at your house and skipped town.”

His mouth clenches in a thin line of unconcealed anger and his teeth grind against each other. “That bitch! Mr. Goldstein! File a complaint of theft right this minute!”

“I already did, Mr. Sterling. Much because there was a court order not to sell or remove any objects from the house. Which actually leads me to my next piece of bad news.” He took a breath and checked to see if the younger man was paying attention or yet concentrated on his fuming. “You are completely blocked, Mr. Sterling. Until such time you are tried, all your assets are frozen.”

That seemed to give pause to the fretful man. “All of them? Including my trust fund? My shares at my family’s company? My Swiss accounts?”

“Everything, Mr. Sterling. You’re penniless.” The lawyer nodded, gravely.

“Oh, God.” He cursed his fate.

Emily walked over him and patted his shoulder and wasn’t intimidated by his withering glare. “There’s one more thing to it, Nathan.”

“What could possibly be?” He said, ironic.

“When Ashley-Amber left, she really trashed the place, probably looking for things to be sold. It’s unlivable right now.” The redhead explains. “And you can’t afford to fix the house or to put down the cash needed on a deposit to rent a new place.

“I called your dad and he said you could go live with him, but Mr. Goldstein said the monitoring doesn’t work over at Martha’s Vineyard. Since I knew you’d prefer staying in prison rather than with your mother, your dad suggested his New York apartment.” She said and nodded for Mr. Goldstein to continue.

“I petitioned the court for settling your house arrest in New York, and to allow both Ms. Harper and her mother to live with you.” He said and waited for the inevitable push-back.

“No. Absolutely not.” The man laughed nervously. “It cannot be! I divorced you, Emily! Why are you doing this?!”

“You’ll need someone who shops for groceries and pays for your utilities, and even a bank account through which you’ll receive the contributions your father has agreed to pay.” Mr. Goldstein explains. “It cannot be me, as I’ll remain in D.C. taking care of your case, and it won’t be your father. Ms. Harper is your only choice at the moment.”

Nathan let out a hard breath. “Fine. Let’s go, we probably have a long way to home.”

Mr. Goldstein looked over at Emily, confused by his sudden change of attitude, but she just shrugged, also puzzled.

The imported car was parked on a truck stop by Cherry Hill, New Jersey. Emily had stopped for a bathroom break, and to refill the tank of the car. To much displeasure, she was driving the car, as Nathan’s license was also suspended.

While she was buying some snacks, the blond man kept staring wistfully at the window, as he had done the previous two hours. His ex-wife tried to engage him in conversation, but she gave up before they reached Baltimore.

He was feeling emasculated. Powerless. Nathan Sterling used to be almost a brand of perfection, he was handsome, he was kind, he was charismatic, and he was shamelessly wealthy.

And now he depended on his ex-wife.

It was like he had been murdered last Sunday and, for cruelty of the fates, woke up as a totally different person. He wishes he was really murdered, suffocated with a pillow by Ashley-Amber. He’d have left a pretty corpse behind, if it were the case.

Emily returns with a large paper bag and a large smile on her face. “Nathan, I found something that will certainly cheer you up!” She sits down on the driver’s seat and fishes out an orange soda can. “Look! Irn-Bru!”

“Irn-Bru? I never drunk that.” He responded, confused.

“Really?” She asked, surprised. “Well, I know how much you love Scotland and how fondly you look back at your time there, so I thought the number one soft drink on the Highlands would take you back to happier, simpler times.” She smiled and handed him the can.

“I told you about my trip to Scotland?” The man asks, not remembering an occasion in which he confided in her about that. He is wary on sharing that event, and a few others, on grounds that they were occasions of true happiness, and sharing it, and especially sharing with his family and ‘friends’, feel like tainting that feeling.

She nodded, enthusiastically. “Yes. Back on our junior year.”

“We met on our junior year.” He said, growing more confused.

“Yeah, it was on that Thanksgiving in which your parents took off to the Bahamas.” She provided. “Though, meeting your mother, she doesn’t come across the type that takes month-long vacations to tropical paradises.”

His mouth tinged on the semblance of a smirk. He sure loved talking ill of his mother. “It was yet another idea of my father’s to try and cure her of her workaholism. It failed, as you might presume.”

“Why, really? I couldn’t tell!” She said, with a light sarcasm that tickled him the right way. “But yeah, we drank champagne and whiskey that night, we talked until sunrise, and you told me all about your trip to Scotland.”

“Oh, right!” It dawned on him. “I don’t know why I didn’t remember it anymore. It must have been the only time I ever woke up after noon.”

“I know. You texted me exactly that when you woke up.” She giggled, and then pointed to the can. “Come on, drink it before it goes flat.”

He looked at her warily, opened the can and took a swig. “Ugh, this thing’s strong!”

“Really? Let me taste it.” She picked up the can and sipped the bright-colored drink. “God, this tastes like rotten orange juice! It’s awful!”

“The Scottish aren’t remembered by their great taste in food, after all.” The fair-headed responds, slightly amused. “Can I have a Milky Way?”

“Sure, go ahead!” The redhead offered him the assortment of candy.

“There’s a lot of Milky Ways in here.” He noted. “Is this your favorite chocolate?”

The woman smiled, sadly. “Yeah, it is. When I was little, I didn’t like how my dad would leave in the morning for work, so he’d bring me a Milky Way from the cafeteria every afternoon when he returned.”

“How… domestic.” The man noted. His parents never did such things for him. Sure, his dad cared for him, but he was third place on his concerns, after his wife and his cargo ships. But another thing nudged on his mind. “You already told me this story once, didn’t you?”

“Several times, actually.” She responds, a bitter smile on her face.

“I’m sorry.” He said, before he even noticed what he was doing. “I should’ve been more attentive.”

“That’s okay, it’s in the past.” She dismissed and turned her attentions to the highway.

Nathan resumed his window-gazing. This road trip has been a great opportunity to think about his life and choices. He meant what he said to Emily, he was sorry, especially because he has been a monster to her, and yet she’s here, something his own kin couldn’t be bothered to do.

There’s no changing the past, but he could do better in the future. He swore to himself he would be nicer to Emily from then on, that he would prove to her and to himself he was deserving of her acts of kindness.

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An Opera on Separation - Masterlist

[lovelyparanormalbooks]

Book Blitz: Grand Finale: The Fireman's Son by Tara Taylor Quinn (Giveaway)

On Tour with Prism Book Tours

Book Tour Grand Finale for

THE FIREMAN'S SON

By Tara Taylor Quinn

We hope you enjoyed the tour and getting a look at this author's 80th release with Harlequin! If you missed any of the stops, go check them out...

Launch - Note from the Author

The Fireman’s Son is a story particularly close to my heart. I can tell you from firsthand knowledge that women suffer as Faye did more often than you’d ever expect. I can also say, unequivocally, that with love, kindness, and the right man, women like Faye do find pure joy again. Abuse is horrible. But that doesn’t mean the other side of abuse has to be. The world is filled with survivors. Women who know and value their strengths. Who reach out to other women who’ve been where they’ve been and are struggling to get where they are. Women who care. Please, come on in to The Lemonade Stand. Join us. As a collective group, we’re going to make the world a beautiful, safe place. One heart at a time.

underneath the covers - Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE, Part 1 REESE BRISTOW WOULD not normally race to the scene of a small fire on the beach in the middle of the night. He was the newly appointed Santa Raquel Fire Chief. One truck of junior firefighters could handle the call half asleep. Still, there he was, in jeans and a T-shirt, racing up the beach behind men in full gear carrying hoses he hoped they wouldn’t need to use.

deal sharing aunt - Guest Post

In The Fireman’s Son, one particular part came from a very particular place. Faye Walker is a paramedic. I’ve never been a paramedic. I couldn’t just become one. So I married one. Ha, ha, not really. I mean, I really did marry one, but not to write Faye’s story.

Thoughts of a Blonde - Review

"Emotionally raw and gut wrenching! You feel sorry for the child for what he’s been through, and as secrets and questions unravel, you find yourself feeling so sad that such little things caused such a monumental life change for all of them. Really connectible characters who we hope can find the peace they all need."

Brooke Blogs - Guest Post

Love is the most powerful force. I’ve always known this. I believe it still. Love will be the final victor – no matter what. It’s the best part of us. The deepest and strongest part of us. If we could all just let love work its magic, trust that which we can’t see, and be able to mute the world’s interferences and cerebral messages, mute the greed and jealousy and insecurities, love would deliver us to the happiness we all crave.

EskieMama & Dragon Lady Reads - Review

"This story was far by more the most intriguing story I have read, it deals with so much of what is going on in our society then normaly does in a book.Reese Bristow is in a conundrum now, the woman who broke his heart in college is now back and is his new EMT. There are more surprises in the book that, leave you speculating how this will unfold..."

Nicole's Book Musings - Guest Post

Faye and Reese have to stay in shape to do their jobs. They have to pass physical fitness tests. And when they’re at the station, on call, they can’t get what they need by skating around the trucks. With them, I had to go back to the treadmill, the weights – the dreaded gym. It’s at the firehouse. So…I did what I had to do…I mentioned that they went there – and I left them at the door – skating off and coming back to get them when we were both done. That’s why you won’t find any scenes in this book written inside that gym. I apologize ahead of time…

Angels with Attitude Book Reviews - Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE, Part 2 “I thought you’d at least call,” she was saying. Making no sense at all. “I wouldn’t take the job until Brandt assured me that you’d seen my file and approved the employment...” Last he’d heard, Faye Browning had been in her second year of a four-year nursing program at UC Berkeley. He’d been at Southern Cal in LA. “You did know, didn’t you?” Her voice trailed off. His horror must have been showing.

Celticlady's Reviews - Guest Post

We just passed tax time and my preparer once told me, everything in my life is deductible because it all goes into my books. She reads my books. And while I don’t deduct even close to ‘everything’, her statement stuck with me because she’s right. My life goes into my books.

Becky on Books - Review

"All three of the main characters here–Faye, Reese, and Elliott, Faye’s eight-year-old son–have been through so much before the story even begins. Watching them deal with the implications of the past, not to mention the new tension and drama that their present brings them, makes for a truly engrossing read. I literally couldn’t put this one down until I’d seen them get to their HEA!"

beck valley books - Excerpt

Book Excerpt - CHAPTER ONE, Part 3 SO...THAT WENT WELL. Faye’s sarcasm rang loud and clear in her mind as she trekked across the beach with her brand-new coworkers. She was on a mission. Had a very clear plan. She’d considered every step in-depth prior to implementation. She’d allowed for every eventuality. Taken measures to ensure that nothing went wrong.

Kindle and Me - Review

"This story just breaks my heart! And I wanted a happily ever after for all of them! If you like real stories of families with abuse issues and children of those abused, shelters, fires, firemen, great counselors, second chances then this might be for you!"

Book Lover in Florida - Guest Post

In The Fireman’s Son, in a particularly difficult scene, Reese can’t take Faye inside. He has to head out to his own little paradise in his backyard. His piece of nature includes the beach and the ocean, but the physical effects to him are the same. It could be that as the author of the book, I took him out there because it was where I’d need to be. One could be a practical thinker and insist that that was the case. One might even be right. I don’t believe it, though. I think that nature is a natural healer, purposely there for all of us to draw upon.

Harlie's Books - Review

"Overall, Ms. Quinn tackles a hard subject and hits it head on. She doesn’t sugarcoat it with her characters but let’s her characters speak for themselves. This series is fast becoming one of my all time favorites. Her stories in this series just keep getting better and better. I can’t wait to see in future books how Elliot is doing and how the Lemonade Stand is and the characters that surround it. Bravo, Ms. Quinn. You did it again."

Don't forget to enter the giveaways below, if you haven't already...

Her Secret Life (Where Secrets Are Safe #11) by Tara Taylor Quinn Adult Contemporary Romance

Mass Market Paperback & ebook, 384 pages

May 1st 2017 by Harlequin Superromance

Secrets are burning out of control After she broke his heart in college, Faye Walker is the last person fire chief Reese Bristow ever expected to see again, especially as his new EMT. But that's not Reese's only surprise. Faye has an eight-year-old son, Elliott, whose counseling at The Lemonade Stand shelter is her first priority.

It's nearly impossible to accept that she had a child with another man—and married that man—right after their breakup. Trusting Faye won't be easy. Especially when she reveals a secret about the boy that might tear them apart for good.

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Other Books in the Where Secrets Are Safe Series (Books released as of March 2017. Each can be read as a standalone.)

          About the Author

The author of more than 70 original novels, in twenty languages, Tara Taylor Quinn is a USA Today bestseller with over six million copies sold. A 2015 RITA finalist Tara appears frequently on bestseller lists, including #1 placement on Amazon lists, and multiple showings on the Publisher’s Weekly Bestseller list. She has appeared on national and local TV across the country, including CBS Sunday Morning.

Tara is a supporter of the National Domestic Violence Hotline. If you or someone you know might be a victim of domestic violence in the United States, please contact 1-800-799-7233.

Website│Goodreads│Amazon│Facebook│Twitter│Pinterest│Instagram│Wattpad

Domestic Violence Shelter Drive

As Tara supports speaking out against domestic violence and supporting those who have been abused, both through her books and in her community, she would love for you to join her in donating items to a shelter in your area. Find out more here.

Tour Giveaways

1ST RAFFLECOPTER: 1 winner will receive ebooks of Where Secrets are Safe series books 1 - 13 (open internationally) 1 winner (per the four tour segments) will receive a $10 Amazon eGift Card (open internationally) 2ND RAFFLECOPTER: 1 winner will receive 25,000 Harelquin My Rewards Points, equivalent to 5 books (US and CAN only) 1 winner will receive 5,000 Harelquin My Rewards Points, equivalent to 1 book (US and CAN only)

Both Rafflecopter giveaways end November 30th, 2017

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