#holland march fiction

[drivinmeinsane]

Lights ※ 12 Days of Goosemas

Day Eight ※ Holland March / Jackson Healy

{12 Days of Goosemas Masterlist} ※ {Regular Masterlist} ※ {ao3}

※ Summary: While he and Healy are stuck in a rut concerning a case, Holland's daughter suggests that the family go on an outing.

※ Rating: No mature content.

※ Content/Tags: Established Relationship, Mention of Period-Typical Homophobia, Family Fluff, Holly March has two dads now

※ Word count: 1023

※ Status: Oneshot/Complete

The sun is about to set, and the two men that make up the Nice Guys Detective Agency are still pouring over a case. March and Healy have been at it for hours now. To Holland, it feels as though they have done nothing but argue around and around and around in circles. He’s on the second to last cigarette in the pack, frustrated by the breeze rustling the papers spread out on the table. Healy had opened the dining room window about the third smoke in. The bruiser had cited not wanting to breathe in all that shit which led to a shouting match between the two of them about how Healy smokes cigars and has no damn right to say anything about Holland’s own smoking habits. 

They took this case on Wednesday. It’s now Friday. At the rate things are going, their relationship, professionally and personally, might be over by Sunday. Both men hear the door open before it slams closed. There’s the crashing sound of a bookbag hitting the floor.

“It’s Holly,” he says pointlessly. He can tell Jack is fighting not to give a sarcastic retort. His daughter comes bounding into the room and scares the shit out of both of them when she slams a piece of paper onto the table.

“Jesus!” Holland yelps, nearly dropping his lit cigarette into his lap. Across from him, Healy hits his knee on the wood and mutters something under his breath.

“Sorry, Dad. Sorry, Mr. Healy,” Holly says before hurriedly continuing. “I want to go to this tonight. You guys have been so busy with Mr. Elmer’s peeping tom, and I don’t think we’ve been getting to do enough as a family lately. There’ll be Christmas lights, hot chocolate, and stuff.”

“Don’t-” He starts. It's a reflex at this point. 

“There’ll be Christmas lights and hot chocolate.” She interrupts, glaring at him. Healy rudely chuckles a little and doesn’t even bother to try to hide it. 

Holland straightens himself up and sighs. “Look, honey, we need to get this case knocked out of the way.”

Looking like she’s about to give him the lecture of a lifetime, Holly crosses her arms. She is about to open her mouth to protest right as Jackson pipes up.

“I don’t know, March. We’re not getting things done sitting here fighting while you smoke like a chimney.”

“We’re not going to by screwing off either.” He snaps back. He immediately wants to suck the words back into his mouth at the expressions on their faces. Holly looks genuinely upset, and there’s a brief flicker of hurt in Healy’s eyes. “Fine! Jesus tap dancing Christ! We can go,” he relents.

Not even ten minutes go by before Holland finds himself sprawled out in the back seat. Healy is behind the wheel and Holly is riding shotgun on navigation duty. He lets himself whistle off-key for the duration of the drive and think. It feels as though he and his partner are right on the cusp of finding the answer to the case. Thoughts of their peeper situation keeps him distracted until they arrive at the botanical garden.

The property is swarming with people, all here to see the dazzling display of lights. Healy pays for the tickets while Holly strains her neck to look around the corner at a truly impressively done polar bear made of string lights. He is starting to feel less irritable. His daughter was right, it had been a long time since the three of them had done anything as a family. 

Almost immediately through the gate, they lose Healy. Holland has his hands full keeping an eye on Holly, but he does his best to scan the milling crowds for his partner. He’s about to snag his daughter and start shouting the other man’s name when he pops up at his side like a jack in the box. 

“Where the hell did you go?” He snaps, clutching at his chest. Were they conspiring together to give him a heart attack before midnight tonight?

“Drinks,” the bruiser says, shoving a warm paper cup into March’s hand. He passes one to Holly as well. Jackson has never been one to turn down chocolate, especially when it’s free.

Holland pops the lid off his cup with a sigh and tips a splash of whisky into the hot chocolate from the flask he keeps in his jacket pocket. He dismisses Healy’s disapproving stare. “This is the first drink I’ve had all day.”

The other man lets it go. March knows he’s been doing a good job at cutting back. He has stopped drinking before the sun sets which has been a massive improvement. The detective doesn’t plan to get plastered here either. Any other refills will be purely non-alcoholic. 

As they roam the botanical garden, Holly is oo’ing and ah’ing at the lights, completely entranced. Both men watch her fondly. Their little family is a happy one despite the baggage that each member is carrying. Holland can’t imagine life without his partner and without his daughter. Most days, they keep him from going under and not coming back up.

While watching his daughter spin around under a canopy of lights arranged to look like dripping icicles, Holland’s fingers brush against Healy’s. He turns to look at Healy, only to find the man looking up into the branches. He has a smile on his scruffy face.

“Sure is somethin’, ain’t it, March?”

The detective  hesitates, casting a quick glance around, no one seems to be paying them any attention in the darkness. He slots his fingers in next to Healy’s, wrapping intertwining them with the other man’s until they’re holding hands for the first time in public. Two middle aged men in the 70s. Jack twitches like he might pull away, but he just grips Holland’s hand tightly. He feels elated and terrified, but nothing happens. He just has the warm comfort of Healy’s hand clasped in his. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.” He sounds choked up even to himself, but why shouldn’t he be? He’s having a good time with his family and everything is okay.

[arag0rn2931]

The Nice Guys (a love story) - part one

part 2

Julie Healy (replacement of Jackson Healy) beats people up for money. When her job leads her to P.I. Holland March, her relatively simple life turns into something more dangerous and messy. She ends up having to work with Holland in order to find a missing girl named Amelia. Together, they uncover a government conspiracy whilst slowly falling for each other along the way. This is basically the plot of the movie The Nice Guys but I've replaced Russell Crowe's character with a woman, changed the dialogue a little and made her a love interest to Ryan Gosling's character.

Warning!! Lots of fluff (not in this part though… she’s beating him up), pining from Holland, enemies to lovers tropes, and more…

This story can also be found on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/348465727?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details&wp_uname=cat_n0ir15&wp_originator=Q3ak6Nr2TwScSd1AF%2B0jeVcPp4VnqeK%2FFpG8h883%2ByZYGgU2PIxfNxKTA3u%2BJh01ac%2BkLHewo5ojbj06hTeBHh%2Fja2ZQ5QiF8Wa9pnTlj39KKAEKnk2wfWhkb8ga8dTF

*I don't own any of the characters or events that happen in the movie this is just an adaptation*

"Love. Wonderful, isn't it? The intimacy of being understood. I was in love once. But you can never be wise and be in love at the same time. Remember that.”

Julie woke up to the radio, the same thing she did every morning. She hadn't gotten much sleep but that wasn't an uncommon occurrence. Her watch sat on her bedside table which she picked up. She then put on her shoes. Usually she would sleep in her clothes because no one was around to tell her otherwise. It saved time. Time for what? She didn't know. Her flared jeans were tight on her body and they usually left marks along her stomach, but they were hidden by her jeans. Solve the problem by hiding the problem. The top she wore however looked a little off colour so she decided to wear a different, more colourful one, maybe dazzle her next target a little.

She made her way to the sink, got out her toothbrush and vigorously started brushing her teeth. Her fish tank sat close by and she went over to examine it as she brushed her teeth, sprinkling a bit of fish food inside. All her little fish bobbed their heads up and began eating the multicoloured specks of food on the surface.

"Equanimity," Julie said to herself, reading the 'Word of the Day' for October 26th. "The quality of being calm and even-tempered." She spat out her toothpaste then looked into the mirror as she spoke: "She accepted his betrayal with equanimity".

Julie grabbed her keys and her sunglasses then made her way out of the door, shimmying her long brown coat on as she switched the power off and closed the door behind her. She drove in her car to Holland March's house, her next target. Sunglasses on for this encounter. As she drove up to the house, she noticed a blonde girl around 13 years old counting her steps as she walked, pretending to open a door then sit down on the grass with a book that she began to read.

She pulled up to the house and got out of the car, surveying the area. It was a nice house, pretty big. The guy had a nice car too. She checked the paper Amelia had given her one last time to confirm she was definitely at the right house. An incident had occurred once where she beat up the wrong guy (7s and 1s look the same). After walking up to the door, she rang the doorbell and waited patiently. Sometimes she would get a little nervous before a job but today wasn't one of those days, she wanted to beat this guy up after seeing how scared he'd made that poor girl.

"Who is it?" Holland called from the other side of the door impatiently.

"Messenger service. Is Holland March home?" Julie responded.

Holland opened the door with a hint of annoyance in his eyes at being disturbed but that emotion was replaced by another as soon as his eyes landed on Julie. Damn it, Julie hated when they were attractive, it hurt her a little to damage pretty things. She moved her sunglasses to sit within her hair, her eyes surveying his with no barrier.

"And who might you be?" He leant against the doorframe with a smug little smirk on his face, his eyes slowly making their way up and down her figure. Never mind, Julie thought, this guy was an asshole. And with that she punched him hard in the face, making him stumble backwards. "What the fuck?" He muttered, then slammed himself against the wall and slid to the floor.

"Mr. March, we're gonna play a game." Julie picked him up by his arm aggressively. His bicep felt hard and strong against her hand. Not that she noticed.

"I think you have the wrong house," Holland gasped. Julie didn't like what he was suggesting with that comment so she chucked him across the room, sending him flying.

"It's called, 'Shut up unless you're me'," she kicked him which led to him being flung onto his back. He desperately tried to wriggle backwards away from her but a barricade soon blocked his progress.

"I love that game," Holland wheezed as he rested against the barricade. Julie took his wallet out of his jacket pocket that had come off him in the scuffle.

"You're a private investigator?"

"Look, there's 20 bucks in there, all right? Just take it."

"No, I'm not here for that. I told you, I'm a messenger," she said. She then made a point of looking around his house. "You can afford to live like this as a P.I.?"

"What's the message?" Holland asked angrily.

"Oh, right, right," Julie remembered, leaning down close to Holland's face, making direct eye contact. She cleared her throat. "Stop looking for Amelia, all right?" She smiled sarcastically as she poked his chest for each word, ending with a tap on his nose.

"I'm not even looking for Amelia. She's a person of interest, man," Holland responded with the air of a petulant child. "Fine. I'm done. Put a fork in me," he said, looking and gesturing to anything that wasn't Julie. He then realised what he'd just said. "Don't really put a fork in me," he pointed at her, resuming the direct eye contact. Julie lifted herself away from his eye line but his eyes followed her.

"Amelia is gonna be so happy that you got the message so quickly. It's gonna make her smile. That's good." Julie looked around the house again then back to Holland. "Now, ahem, I got one more thing I need to ask you before we're done here."

"You wanna know who hired me," Holland groaned.

"Bingo. Yeah," Julie smiled broadly, "Now we can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way."

"Glenn."

"What?"

"Lily Glenn. Two N's. Old lady hired me to find her niece on Tuesday."

"You just gave up your client."

"I made a discretionary revelation," Holland said as he pulled himself up again.

"No. No, you just gave her up. I asked you one simple question. You gave me all the information... What little respect I had left for you is now gone," Julie rolled her eyes.

"I though that's what you wanted," Holland replied. He then quickly leant over the counter to grab a gun from the cookie pot but Julie had already noticed. She punched him before he could shoot her. He dropped to the floor and the gun left his hand.

"Now, I'm very sorry that you didn't get the message," Julie said as she leant against the counter looking down at a groaning Holland.

"Me too," he sniffed. "But I get it now. I get it. I dig it." However he obviously hadn't as he began determinedly army crawling across the floor toward his gun. Yet Julie managed to kick it away from him before he could grab it. "Shit!" Holland lay his head on the floor in defeat.

"What about now?" Julie lifted up his chin so that Holland was looking at her, "You get the message now?"

"Yep," Holland nodded vigorously whilst looking into Julie's dark, brown eyes. They looked unnervingly cold.

"Are you sure?" Julie asked him as one would ask a child.

"Yeah. I'm-" Holland began to say but Julie dropped his chin from her grasp and his head hit the floor, hard.

"Alright then," she brushed herself off as she stood up tall. She walked around his tense body that was still on the floor. "Give me your left arm."

"Huh?"

"Your left arm. Give me your left arm. This one," she grabbed his left arm but Holland began to struggle.

"No!" He struggled under her grasp.

"Yeah, come on," Julie managed to grab Holland's arm and pulled it back behind his body whilst Holland screamed many refusals. "Did you cut yourself?" She asked, an ironically worried expression on her face. The cut looked very deep.

"I'm dealing with an injury," Holland responded childishly.

"Right, look, when you're talking to your doctor, just tell him you have a spiral fracture of the left radius," Julie held his left arm firmly.

"No. NO!" Holland shouted.

"Deep breath," Julie said, then twisted. A satisfying crack followed. A not so satisfying shriek came after as Holland reacted to the damage. "Do you mind if I have an apple?" No reply. Julie took one anyway. "All right, Mr. March. You have a good day, okay?" She took a bite of her apple then left.

As she walked to her car, apple in hand she was stopped by the same blonde girl she'd seen acting strangely before she'd met Mr. March.

"Hi," she smiled at Julie, a bag of groceries in her hand.

"Hey," Julie responded as she opened her door.

"Want a Yoo-hoo?"

"A Yoo-hoo? Are you kidding?" Julie turned around, chucking her finished apple behind her. She looked into the bag and took out a Yoo-hoo. "Oh, yeah. You know, I haven't had one of these in about 20 years."

"Are you a friend of my dad's?" The blonde girl asked with a smile.

"Yeah, yeah... we're um-"

"He never has girls over," the girl said with a sly sort of expression.

"Oh no, sweetheart. Your dad and I, we're, uh, business associates. He's inside, resting..." Julie confirmed with a small smile which the girl returned sweetly. "Didn't I see you crawling round a vacant lot a couple of blocks over?"

"Um, maybe," the girl looked behind her, slightly awkwardly. "I read there sometimes."

"Right," Julie nodded. "Thanks again for the Yoo-hoo," she said as she got into her car. The girl smiled and walked towards her house, completely unaware of her fathers' agony on the other side of the door.

"Bye," the girl said.

[entriprises]

this might be a heavy question but i'm afraid i have to ask it ... when it comes to holly and her dad, their dynamic (at least in canon) seems to be a lot of responsible kid vs irresponsible adult. there's a lot of other factors in this and it's definitely not JUST that ofc (holland's depression, adjusting to life as a single dad, and the overall grief they both share). but from holly's perspective, does it ever become frustrating for her? is she able to empathize with her dad's perspective? do any of these feelings change as she gets older? very curious to know your thoughts, mwah

it's a heavy question but i think about this all the time even if i don't get to write about it a lot ever, so thank you for asking! i am gonna stick this under a read more because i already know that this one will be extensive even though i haven't started writing yet bsgjkdsb

holly is a kid. point blank -- she's a child. no matter how mature or smart she is, how much of an empathetic little gold heart she has, how much she's been exposed to... end of the day she is a kid and she looks at the world through a little bit of kid goggles. this is to say that she has a pretty limited point of view / opinion of her father, and she goes heavily through the typical thing of being unable to see your parents as humans with flaws and mistakes. every kid is guilty of it, it's not always rational, and parent-child relationships are so complicated because there's just so much more of an expectation of perfectionism at times.

she is old enough to remember losing her mom and what her dad was like before and that is a comparison that holland may never live up to in holly's mind. it frustrates her to no end, and it takes a while for her to come around on the idea that that version of her father isn't coming back. he will never be who he was before, although she may see glimpses of it every once and while. the older she gets the more she is able to rationalize some of the behaviors he has and the responsibilities he wasn't able to uphold, but she was still hurt by them very much and there will always be the very emotional side of her. even if she doesn't always blame him, even if she loves him, he still hurt her.

he fell into depression, started drinking, and she had to pick up so many of the pieces that she didn't feel like she had enough space for her own grief. she resents that heavily. it's part of the reason she is as blunt as she is with her dad. more than it is her sassy sarcastic nature, she's a little fed up with him. she needs him to do things himself because she's barely fourteen and more than she doesn't want to do them, she doesn't know how!

this is especially complicated because he goes back and forth between having her be an adult and take on those responsibilities (even if he's not directly asking her to), and treating her like a child. it's confusing and frustrating because to holly he needs to make up his mind. he can't have both, and it causes a lot of disconnect and tension between them. this is the number one subject of any fight that holly starts with him.

still, as much as they put each other through, he is the only parent she has left. holly gets angry with him, she's tired of a lot of the stuff that goes on, but he's her dad and that grief and loss will keep her coming back to him. that and the fact she does know a different side of him and hopes it'll come back. the older she gets, the easier it is for her to put some of those things aside just because she's a little more used to them, knows how to brush them off, and of course as time moves on for both of them there's a lot that can change. i do think that canon leaves them in a little bit of a more promising place for growth.

[best-fictional-detective]

is there anyone you're surprised at not receiving any nominations for? or anyone you're surprised that you did receive nominations for? im just super excited!! :)

I HAVE NOT RECIEVED A SINGLE SUBMISSION FOR HOLLAND MARCH FROM THE NICE GUYS (2016) AND THAT IS SO DISAPPOINTING. AND TINTIN HAS ONE. ONE!!! blasphemy

Inspector Javert has 2 which surprised me I honestly forgot about him

[theinquisitxor]

2024 Anticipated Book Releases

I thought I had a lot of anticipated book releases for 2023, but 2024 is also proving to be a year of many books I'm excited about too. These are all the books I'm looking forward to in the first half of the year!

January:

-A Fragile Enchantment by Alison Saft: (Jan 2nd) rom-com fantasy about a dressmaker hired to make the royal wedding dress, but she starts to fall for the prince instead.

-Mislaid in Parts Half-Known Wayward Children 9) by Seanan (Jan 9th) The second to last book in this novella series, this one featuring dinosaurs!

-The Atlas Complex (The Atlas Series #3) by Olive Blake (Jan 9th) the final books to this magical dark academia trilogy, and I've been excited for this one since the ending of book 2.

-Emily Wilde's Map of the Otherlands (Emily Wilde 2) by Heather Fawcett (Jan 16th) The second book in this new historical fantasy series, in which Emily and Wendall go on a new adventure in the Austrian Alps. This is one of my most anticipated books of the year.

-City of Stardust by Georgia Summers (Jan 30th) this is a new fantasy debut that sounds similar to The Starless Sea and features a woman descending down into a subterranean world to try and break a generational curse.

-House of Flame and Shadow (Crescent City 3) by SJM (Jan 30th) I've been enjoying SJM's crescent city books the most of all her series, and I'm looking forward to this one after how book 2 ended.

February

-The Warm Hands of Ghosts by Katherine Arden (Feb 13th) This is possibly my most anticipated book of the year, and Katherine Arden's newest adult release. A historical fiction (and a little magical realism?) set in Europe during WW1 following a combat nurse trying to find her (presumably) dead brother.

-The Book of Doors by Gareth Brown (Feb 13th) A debut magical realism fantasy set in NYC with books, bookstores, and a mystery book. I've heard many good early reviews of this one.

-What Feasts at Night by T. Kingfisher (Feb 13th) This is a follow up novella to What Moves the Dead following Alex Easton in a new horror adventure. This one has such a cool cover.

-The Briar Book of the Dead by AG Slatter (Feb 13th) A coven of witches keeps a town and the border between realms safe.

March

-A Dark and Drowning Tide by Allison Saft (March 5th) I'm very excited to get two new Allison Saft books in 1 year. This is a dark academia fantasy about two rival scholars trying to figure out who killed their mentor. Sapphic romance too I believe.

-The Prisoner's Throne by Holly Black (March 5th) This is the conclusion to The Stolen Heir, and I'm looking forward to the seeing more of the characters from the original series make an appearance in this one.

-The Woods All Black by Lee Mandelo (March 19th) This is a spooky queer horror novella set in 1920s Appalachia. Small town religiosity and something sinister creeping in the woods? This just sounds like a novella I'd enjoy.

-Song of the Huntress by Lucy Holland (March 21st) A new book from Lucy Holland, also set in magical ancient Briton. A warrior queen falls into trouble and teams up with the Wild Hunt to save her kingdom. Sapphic/queer romance.

-The Hedewitch of Fox Hall by Anna Bright (March 24th) a fantasy romance book set in medieval Wales as a hedge witch and prince team up to help prevent magic from fading away. The cover of this book is so beautiful!

April

-The Familiar by Leigh Barduo (April 9th) I don't really know much about this one, other than it is a new adult novel by Leigh Bardugo set in 1400s Spain. Also one of my most anticipated releases of the year.

-Song of Six Realms by Judy Lin (April 23rd) A young adult fantasy about a musician who goes to the Duke of Dreams's realm and must help stop a disaster.

June

-Running Close to the Wind by Alexandra Rowland (June 13th) A new high seas fantasy that was directly inspired by OFMD and Terry Pratchett. This is very queer and seems like it's going to be a lot of fun.

-Foul Days by Genovena Dimova (June 25th) A slavic fantasy story about a witch who has to team up with a detective as she is being hunted by her ex, the Tsar of Monsters. I've heard some very good early reviews of this book too.

-Children of Anguish and Anarchy (Children of Blood and Bone 3) by Tomi Adeyemi (June 25th) I honestly don't know if I'm going to read this anytime soon, but I've been waiting for this final book for almost 4 years now, so I just want to see how the series ends.

I think that's it for now! Release dates tend to change, and I'm sure I will be adding or editing this list as the new year starts. I'd love to hear of any new releases you are excited for!

Second half of 2024/To be determined:

A Sorceress Comes to Call by T Kingfisher (August)

The Mercy of Gods by James SA Corey (August)

The Whisper Between Worlds by Amanda Foody (TBD)

Lady Macbeth by Ava Reid (TBD)

[out-of-the-forest-i-come]

Here is a non-exhaustive list of queer fiction books coming out in March 2024. This list covers only standalones or books that are the first in a series; if you want to check out which queer series are being continued, you can check out the post that comes out tomorrow. Also, as I support the SMP boycott, there will be no SMP books on this list. (This is a marketing boycott, so if you still wish to support the authors by buying their books, please check out the march releases on your own.)

Please note that I have not checked the trigger warnings or possible problematic content/author for these books, this is merely an informative list.

SFF:

Be the Sea; Clara Ward, March 5th

The Baker & the Bard; Fern Haught, March 5th (graphic novel)

The Marble Queen; Anna Kopp, March 5th

The Poisons We Drink; Bethany Baptiste, March 5th

Song of the Huntress; Lucy Holland, March 7th

A Hunt of Blood and Iron; Cara Nox, March 12th

Monster Crush; Erin Ellie Franey, March 12th (graphic novel)

These Fragile Graces, This Fugitive Heart; Izzy Wasserstein, March 12th

Those Beyond the Wall; Micaiah Johnson, March 12th

Chrysalis and Requiem; Quinton Li, March 16th

Cascade Failure; L.M. Sagas, March 19th

The Emperor and the Endless Palace; Justinian Huang, March 26th

Horror & Gothic:

Thirst; Marina Yuszczuk, translated by Heather Cleary, March 5th

A Botanical Daughter; Noah Medlock, March 19th

The Woods All Black; Lee Mandelo, March 19th

Dead Girls Walking; Sami Ellis, March 26th

Thriller & Mystery:

Rainbow Black; Maggie Thrash, March 19th

Where Sleeping Girls Lie; Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé, March 19th

A Deadly Walk In Devon; Nicholas George, March 26th

Romance:

The No-Girlfriend Rule; Christen Randall, March 5th

Just Another Epic Love Poem; Parisa Akhbari, March 12th

Really Cute People; Markus Harwood-Jones, March 12th

Cover Story; Rachel Lacey, March 26th

Icarus; K. Ancrum, March 26th

The Boyfriend Subscription; Steven Salvatore, March 26th

Historical fiction:

Pelican Girls; Julia Malye, March 5th

The Tower; Flora Carr, March 7th

The Phoenix Bride; Natasha Siegel, March 12th

All the World Beside; Garrard Conley, March 26th

Contemporary & Literary fiction:

A Different Kind of Brave; Lee Wind, March 5th

Ellipses; Vanessa Lawrence, March 5th

Ariel Crashes a Train; Olivia A. Cole, March 12th

These Letters End in Tears; Musih Tedji Xaviere, March 12th

Like Happiness; Ursula Villarreal-Moura, March 26th

[samwinchesterslostshoe]

This story is based on the tv show Band of Brothers, and the fictional portrayal of the actors playing the characters in the show.

Part 2

Hagenau - France.

Late February.

Kenyon.

Everything was so familiar. The soft thudding of their jump boots, the rattling of mess kits hanging from their belts, and the endless stream of cigarette smoke. He was back home again. After almost four months of endless hospitals, rehab centers, and having to endure the people off rear echelon he was back with his outfit. At least, what was left of it.

Even though the muddy roads were filled with marching platoons and truckloads crammed with soldiers, very few bore the white spade on the side of their helmet. And those who did did not seem to want him here anymore. Having finally caught up with easy company suddenly made very clear just how much loss and suffering his friends had to endure. Hoobler, Toye, Guarnere, Buck, Penkala, Skip Muck. A never-ending list of names. With every name, every missing face in the crowd, a part of him died to.

The jeep drove at an excruciatingly slow pace, getting caught every few meters in the muddy brown remains of snow. The silence among them deafening. He held his head down, trying to focus on something other than the cross looks the others were shooting him.

For two years they had trained together, he had been there at D-Day and fought in Holland. But because he had missed Bastogne all trust and sympathy towards him had seemed to be lost. He wondered if he would ever earn their trust again.

“We’re here,” Liebgott hissed as he ushered him to jump of the trucks tailgate.

The town of Hagenau, with its bombed-out roofs and shattered windows was anything but empty. Everywhere he looked supply officers were running around, carrying truckloads of ammo, K-rations, and medical supplies out of the Jeeps and into the buildings. Redd Cross girls and medics were setting up aid stations, and remaining civilians pleaded to the soldiers for something to spare. The last time he had been with his outfit was back in the muddy fields of occupied Holland. Oh how he wished he was back at that farmhouse, eating pancakes with the lovely girl he had met there.

“Report to lieutenant Speirs,” they told him. Great, another lieutenant leading the company, whatever happened to Winters?

Ronald “Sparky” Spiers was a former D company lieutenant. Webster saw him as a harsh but fair man. Spiers knew what had to be done and he appreciated the man for it. He found the lieutenant in a shelled CP building at the edge of town, farthest away from the river that separated them from the Germans, talking to lieutenant Lipton. Busy arguing with each other, they seemed to have failed to notice that he had come into the room. For what felt like hours he stood there, watching people come in and out of the CP. He watched Spiers give orders and boss people around, not exactly a man you would want to piss off.

“Lieutenant Lipton, Sir. The medicine you asked for,” a soft familiar voice said.

Marie.

The cold bit her face and her fingers where slowly starting to go numb. With the 506th moving into Hageneau she had been on her feet all day, carrying boxes filled to the brim with supplies from one place to the other. Walking at a fast pace and dodging incoming troopers on her way, she quickly made her way to the CP Building. The sooner she would be into the building and out of the cold the better. Besides, she was starting to worry about Lip. His pneumonia had gotten a lot worse in the past two days and medicine was scarce. And the truth was they just couldn’t afford to lose another lieutenant.

In the four months she had been stationed with the 506th she had gotten to know some of the men quite well, to some she had even grown quite close. From handing out coffee and doughnuts to pulling out still scorching shrapnel from their torn flesh. It might have taken some time, but slowly she had started to earn their trust and respect, from most of them at least. The battle on The Island, the wounded soldier, it all seemed like a lifetime ago.

Quickly making her way into the CP building, nearly getting knocked over by a soldier carrying parts of a machine gun, she made her way up the narrow stairs.

She found the lieutenant lying on an old dirty couch in the middle of what used to be the living room, deep in conversation with lieutenant Spiers. The air in the room was stuffy and thick and the constant stream of people coming in and out the building made it hard to focus on the task at hand.

She scraped her throat with a loud mhm: “Lieutenant Lipton, Sir. The medicine you asked for.” Both lieutenants quickly turned their heads towards her. With Lip stuck under a gigantic pile of blankets, Spiers made his way over to her. “Here let me get those for you,” he said, taking over the heavy crate and bringing it back over to the couch.

“Anything else I might be able to help you with lieutenant?” she asked them, eagerly to get going again. “No thank you Marie that will be all,” Spiers told her while Lip put up an approving thumps-up from behind him. She turned around in her step, almost bumping in again into the soldier leaned up against doorframe. “S’cuse me,” she muttered, trying to make her way down the stairs. A strong hand wrapped around her arm and pulled her to a halt. ‘Christ what now!’ she thought. When turning her head to look at the person who had the audacity to grab her so abruptly, she was met by a pair of oddly familiar blue eyes.

Kenyon.

Christ, it really was her. The same dirty blonde curls, the pale skin, and tired green eyes. Had he heard the lieutenant right? Did he really hear him call her Marie? In the span of a few seconds he watched her expression change from angry, to happy, to confused and back to angry again. He wondered if she even recognized him still, with his face now clean shaven, his hair cut short and clean OD’s he must have looked like a completely different man.

“David?” she whispered.

He couldn’t stop the wide smile from appearing on his face. Even after all this time, after all this shit, she recognized him. A million questions seared trough his mind, why was she here, what happened to the farm, her family? But time and privacy were something incredibly scarce during times of war. He could already hear the lieutenant calling out his name from the other room.

“You’re alive, he muttered. “I never thought I would see you again”

“War has a strange habit of bringing people together I guess,” she said.

Again, he could hear his name be yelled from somewhere behind him.

“I have to go,” he whispered.

“I will be at the aid station near the edge of town, visit me there,” she responded coldly.

He watched her turn around and sprint down the stairs, just as fast as she had appeared back into his life she was gone again. As she stood at the base of the stairs she quickly turned around, bearing a slight grin she said: “Oh, and try not to get hurt again!”

He couldn’t quite focus on what Spiers was telling him, his mind racing with excitement and confusion. “The nurse who came in just a minute ago,” he said boldly. “How long has she been with the company?” The lieutenants eyebrows furrowed. “Who, Marie? I don’t know, somewhere around the time we moved into Bastogne I think. You would have to ask her.”

That was all the information he got out of the ever so stoic man as he watched him turn his attention back to Lip, who was coughing so violently he could have sworn he saw a bit of blood pooling on the corner of his mouth.

-

The building 2nd platoon was given was in way worse condition then the CP building he had just come from. Lieb was still shooting him dirty looks, even after he had told them about the dreadful mission across the river that awaited them tonight, and the lucky few that were chosen to cross it. The uneasy banter between the man about who was, and who wasn’t going on the patrol tonight was abruptly cut of by the freight train whistling off a shell falling nearby. As soon as he heard the high-pitched tone, he made sure to drop his mussete bag and follow the rest down the stairs into the basement. Clanking into each other, almost jumping down the staircase, he hid under an old wooden table until the explosions seemed to have calmed down. He, along with the rest of the platoon were coated in a thick layer of dust that had fallen from the basements rackety old ceiling. No one seemed to be thinking about their argument anymore, he certainly didn’t. What a stupid and wasteful way to spend your time, arguing with each other over things you couldn’t change anyway. Who knows, the building could have had taken a direct hit, and the last thing on his mind would have been about how badly he wanted to punch Liebgott in the face.

A heartfelt laugh erose among them, ‘what a bunch of lucky bastards we were,’ he thought.

Their amusement, however, was cut short by the hearth wrenching call for medic.

When the word “Medic!” was yelled, something in you just knew that there was the very real possibility that one of your friends had died. In this case, that possibility had just come true.

Having quickly made his way up the stairs and into the streets, he was faced with a small crowd gathered around a still smoking hole in the pavement left from where a shell had hit just moment before. The rest of 2nd platoon had followed his lead and now stood behind him, whispering to each other as to who may have been hit. The crowd around the body made way for a medic passing through. Marie. Like an angel in hell, she stood out amongst the men, a white apron bearing the red cross tied around her waist and the nurses cap pinned loosely in her hair.

She kneeled near the casualty, the casualty being Bill Kiehn. Even though he hadn’t known Bill very well, a lump appeared in his throat when he saw the sack of spuds sprawled around his torn-up body. Not more then thirty minutes ago he had run into the man proudly carrying the same sack out of one of the homes.

In war, sometimes men die in the fever pitch or a firefight or by artillery when they’re huddled together in a foxhole. Bill Kiehn, a Toccoa man, was killed because he was carrying a sack of potatoes from one building into another. In the wrong place at the wrong time.

Marie’s hands lay cradled around Bills face. There was nothing she could do, and he knew that it killed her. He was dead long before the call for a medic was yelled. “Did you know him well?” one of the men asked him “No. Not really,” he answered coldly. The rest of the men slowly dispersed back into the safety of the buildings. Leaving her alone next to the lifeless body seemed like the wrong thing to do, so he made his way forward and quietly kneeled down beside her. The whites of her eyes had tuned bloodshot, and water begun to collect at the bottom of her eyelids.

“Did you know him?” he dared to ask her. Her head jolted up at the sound of his voice, quickly turning her head to wipe her eyes with the cuff of her sleeve, smearing a small trail of blood on the side of her cheek. “I met him only once, he came into the aid station a few weeks back. Pinged by a machine gun,” she answered in a quivering voice. “Not that it matters anyway. It just isn’t fair. The war is almost over, and he died carrying a sack of potatoes. Why do I deserve to live, and he doesn’t?” A thick tear made its way down her cheek, falling onto the torn-up body below. It was sickening. He wanted to stand up and bee line towards the nearest GI truck, and drive of as for as he could. He wished there was something he could say or do that would calm her, tell her it’s all okay. But he knew she was completely right. What did they do to deserve to live that Bill didn’t?

“Come on let’s get you out of here alright.”

Marie.

A gloved hand wrapped itself around her shoulder, pulling her off the blood-stained cobble stone. The wall of tears turned her vision into a blurry haze, making it near impossible to make out the expression on David’s face. Maybe it was for the best, she didn’t want to look at David and she didn’t want David to look at her. She wanted to be strong, professional, like that evening four months ago they had first met back at the farm. She felt sick and embarrassed, if she could she would have pulled herself out of his grip and make a run for it. But all she was able to do was stand there and let her tears silently fall while David gently let her back to the aid station. By the time they made it to the building not a word was spoken between them.

-

Things had finally seemed to have calmed down at the nurse’s post. All their equipment had been carried into the building and found its place between the antique furniture of the houses previous owners. Here and there a few red cross girls were tidying up some makeshift beds and killing time by smoking and chatting about nonsensical things. When she first signed up, soon after her first encounter with David, she had found it quite hard to find her place alongside them. Although her English was decent, communicating and relating to the other girls had felt like she was back in high school all over again. E company’s medic, a pale skinny Cajun kid named Eugene Roe had helped her find her place between them by teaching her various medical procedures new to her, and sometimes, when they had a little time off, teacher her some American costumes and slang. And she appreciated him immensely for it. He even made her forget about David for a bit. She wished he was the one that had found Bill Kiehns body.

David set her down on and old leather chair in the corner of the dimly lit room, stuffed in between stacked wooden crates. It didn’t offer mush concealment but would at least give them little privacy to talk without being interrupted for questions she didn’t feel like answering right now.

“So, how have you been?” he asked her. A little snicker escaped her lips, Christ for what a stupid question that was. She was glad to see he hadn’t changed one bit.

With a loud thud, he sat himself down opposite off her on a little wooden stool that creaked dangerously under the weight of his harness. Using a small white handkerchief, she dabbed down her tears, making her vision more clearly, allowing her to take a good look at him. His ODs were clean and sterile. His brown curls neatly cut, and his face was clean shaven. Just how long had he been in that hospital?

“How, how even did you...?” he stuttered.

It was understandable, the chances of them meeting each other again where near impossible, and yet here they were.

She was afraid if she told him everything that had happened since they parted ways, her voice might break again.

“When the 101st left Holland, me along with a few others of the resistance signed up as volunteers. There wasn’t anything left there for me anymore.” She said, turning her head to face him. His face bore a genuinely look of sympathy.

“How is your leg?” she asked him, wanting to steer away from the subject in fear of breaking down in front of him again.

“Doing alright,” he answered. “There were a few months of hospitals, some rehab centers, and an excruciatingly long time running around at rear echelon. But it feels good to be back again.” He paused for a long time. “You know I didn’t think I would ever get to see you again, especially not here, in a place like this.” He stroked his thumb along his chin, a nervous habit she noticed he had seemed to pick up. It felt like they were total strangers again.

“You know I thought of you, while I was in that hospital. Even wrote you a letter,” he huffed.

He had thought of her while she tried everything she could do to forget him, it killed her. She didn’t tell him that of course. The way her mind worked, it was easier to shut someone out, forget about them all together and pretend they never existed, to stop herself from being hurt. But he may not understand, so instead she responded, “I thought about you too.”

“I still have the letter you know,” he responded awkwardly while combing his fingers trough his rough curls. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Would you like me to read it?” she asked him.

“Maybe someday, when the time is right that is.” His face turned red as a beet, she figured hers was probably the same color.

The sound of the front door slamming open followed by the tramping of jump boots made her jump in her seat, she figured this was probably their time to go.

-

3 hours till patrol time. Trying to stay calm and distract her mind by doing mundane, repetitive tasks. The tension among her and the other nurses hang sickly in the air.

2 hours till patrol time. The knot that formed deep inside of her pulled tighter and tighter.

1 hour until the patrol. the wait was unbearable, she wanted to get it over with as soon as possible, those who would die would die, those who would bleed would have their blood soaked all over her apron, and those who where lucky enough to tell the tale would get to go home to their families.

20 minutes. “We don’t expect any casualties,” they were told. She knew it was bullshit. Somebody would be killed tonight; she just didn’t know who yet.

A high whistle pierced its way through her body. There was about five second of complete silence, everyone in the building held their breath. Then, all hell broke loose. The deafening bangs and pops of antitank guns, mortars, and 75s drowned out every other noise and sound. White, red, and orange flashes lit up the night sky, making it look like daytime again. Spilling its light across the streets, painting across the faces of her friends. No one talked, no one moved around, all they did was sit tight, and wait for the inevitable to happen. In a strange way it almost seemed quite beautiful. ‘It sure is mesmerizing to look at,’ she tough to herself, unaware of the smile that had crept across her face of the thought of them giving the Germans hell. The air dark with a thick black smoke and the smell of gun powder filled the room. Eugene slit up next to her spot by the window, pulling her sleeve and yelling something in her ear. Not having heard a single word, she just smiled and nodded approvingly, turning her attention back out the window and into the night sky.

The string of events that unfolded after happened so fast it was hard to recall what was real, and what was a mere figure of her imagination running wildly, blinded by chaos and confusion. One moment she was stood near the windowsill, the next, she was bulling pulled out into the streets by Roe. His grip painfully tight on her arm, he had tugged and yelled one word at her over and over again over the ear davening chaos of their artillery fire. “Wounded! Wounded!”

The slippery stones beneath her shook dangerously, what building still stood tall seemed like they would tip over or cave in at any given second, burring them both between the rubble.

Gene ran a few meters ahead over her, caring a linen stretcher under his arm and a med-bag slung over his shoulder. She cursed loudly as the heel of her shoe got stuck in-between the jagged stones, coming down with a loud smack onto the road. Making her bag go flying, spilling clean white bandages onto the muddy road.

The sound of the fall made Gene look back while simultaneously turning around in his step to make his way back to her. Before he got the change to reach her however, she had pulled herself up, stumbling to catch up while quickly snatching her supply bag of the road, all while frantically yelling and waving at Gene to go ahead without here.

‘Dear God,’ she thought ‘Why did the aid station have to be positioned all the way at the edge of town.’ The cold night air got caught up in her throat, making her gasp for air and her head go spinning. She stood still, catching her breath while she watched Gene slip off into the basement of a large two-story brick house. Two men stood in its yard, soaking wet and shivering badly. They waved and pointed at her to get into the basement. As she listened to their orders and made her way down the narrow stairway. She made a small mental note to go take a look at those two later.

It took an excruciatingly long time for her eyes had adjusted to the dark and gloomy basement. But when they finally did, she was met by nothing but sheer chaos.

Part 3 will be up soon!

[miffy-junot]

Junot, Laure and Caroline rpf, chapter 6

this is from a 1904 fiction book, it does not necessarily reflect real history, disclaimers etc.

'On the 19th of March the court spent the entire day at Malmaison, The ladies breakfasted with the Empress in the large dining-hall on the first floor. Upon the long stucco walls, with their pale nymphs done in fresco, were hung garlands of flowers, and the table was adorned with exquisite flowers from the imperial conservatories. Her Majesty had especially invited the children to be present at her birthday breakfast. She sat between her goddaughter, Josephine Junot,* and her little niece, Princess Laetitia Murat. They were each about five years old — that age of refreshing innocence and budding curiosity. They were revelling in their unaccustomed liberty, or, rather, license, as they filled and refilled their plates with the dainty sweetmeats.

The Empress was in excellent humour to-day, and seemed to have forgotten all her troubles. She had received from her husband a hearty letter which she passed around with delight so that all the ladies could read it. “We are all longing for Paris,” Napoleon wrote — “the Paris one misses everywhere; and, to satisfy our longing for it, we are running ourselves out of breath after honour — after honour that is to be applauded by an opera parquet.” “He longs for Paris.” The ladies smiled meaningly at each other, pointing to the sentence as they passed the letter from hand to hand. They also had had news from headquarters in Poland, and knew that someone there did not speak so much about Paris as about a certain Madame Walewska. But, anyhow, Josephine was pleased. There had also come costly presents and good news from the King and Queen of Holland. But Madame de Remusat, the Empress’ friend and lady in waiting, was far from being so delighted as her mistress. She shook her head as she pointed, with an almost tragic air, at the exquisite portrait of the little Prince of Holland. The picture was painted on a box of crystal, set in gold filigree, and had just come by a courier from The Hague. “The poor Queen!” she said, with a sigh, as she lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “Her Majesty does not know how unhappy she is, thank God! But I... oh, I can read the dread message between the lines of her letters. But in the face of the storm she is an angel!” she added, with enthusiasm.

In spite of the hostess’ good humour, the general spirit at the table seemed a little forced. Madame Junot was sad, irritable, and indisposed. Princess Pauline was nervous; she was afraid of her songs. She knew that she sang them miserably, in spite of all flattery. Caroline was — goodness knows why ! — in a most dreadful humor — excited and hurt. During the whole breakfast she kept making sarcastic remarks to nearly every one present, but especially to Madame Remusat, whom she did not like. Madame Remusat, who, unfortunately, had to take part in the opera, endured all the slights with becoming modesty; but the smile around her mouth grew more and more strained, and the glances from her large, piercing eyes were almost cutting. While the ladies were gathered in the Empress’ boudoir to admire the large diamond necklace which the Emperor had just sent her, suddenly the Grand Duchess of Berg and Cleve burst into a nervous fit of crying which ended in a faint.

Although the Princess collapsed near Madame Junot, the latter did not stir to aid her; on the contrary, the Governor’s wife, as though nothing had happened, continued her conversation with Madame Ney, who sat across the table, and who did not have time to arise before the Empress, much alarmed, had rushed to Caroline’s side. They loosened Caroline’s dress to give her air, when from her bosom there fell a loosely folded note. The Empress saw it, and, with the forbearance so natural and peculiar to her when it concerned secrets of that sort, she caught it quickly and stuck it in her sister-in-law’s hands, which she then held in hers. She glanced quickly at Madame Junot to see whether the latter had noticed anything, for her Majesty had recognised the handwriting as Junot’ s. The Governor’s wife sat perfectly quiet in her low easy-chair, bending over the diamonds with which her hand mechanically played. When Caroline again gained consciousness she nervously crushed the note of which the Empress, by a slight pressure of the hand, reminded her. “It is a... a letter from Murat,” she murmured. Madame Junot turned her head a little, and peeped sidewise at her from under her long eyelashes.

The performance of “The Barber of Seville” was not a perfect success. Princess Pauline looked bewitching enough in her fantastic peasant costume, but such of her lines as she had to sing she sang so decidedly false that even she herself was conscious of the discord, and soon lost her temper. Those who understood a little about acting — and most of them did — sighed at the memory of how differently the part of Rosina had been played five years before there at Malmaison, when Hortense Beauharnais was the acknowledged star of the occasion. With such a vision in her memory, it was no wonder that Madame Junot derived little pleasure from Princess Pauline’s rendering of the part, and she looked forward with even less enjoyment to the rest of the program. In fact, during the performance of the comedy which followed “The Barber of Seville,” Madame Junot became positively angry that she had been made to take part in such nonsense, and she had much difficulty in controlling herself.

Junot was really the only one in the comedy who covered himself with glory. He had always been a good amateur performer, and this time he played with a verve and fire which lent a decided charm to his part. He was the hero, a young peasant who returns to his village after the battle of Jena and finds his sweetheart, Caroline, greatly annoyed by the persistent attentions of a shallow-pated fop. But, thanks to the good fairy, the Empress, who lives at Malmaison, all ends well, and they are solemnly united by the Mayor of their native village. Junot gave quite as strong and true an expression of the young soldier’s patriotic enthusiasm over the victories in Germany as of his anxiety, his love, and, finally, of his jubilant happiness over possessing his loved one. Princess Caroline played her part with no more meaning than a porcelain doll might have given it. She had an unfortunate accent at all times, and on the stage she lost her natural and self-possessed manner, becoming so overdrawn and sentimental in her acting as to give the impression that she was producing a parody.

But when Charles, with half-bent knee and outstretched arms, turned to the bride whom he had won, the royal actress at last showed some life and naturalness. Amid the rousing applause that greeted this scene near the end of the play, a tremor — almost a shock — passed through the bride; while over her painted cheeks, before so white, there spread a warm blush down to her velvety neck; her eyes beamed suddenly, and, as she lowered them with a smile, she intoned, in an unusually true and sweet voice, the melody of "Oh, ma tendre Musette," the lovers’ last duette: “In spite of danger and snares, I belong but to you, my love.” After the curtain had dropped, and while the actors still stood on the stage listening to the applause, Charles and Caroline stood, full of enchantment, still gazing at each other. The young soldier’s face beamed as though he had suddenly had a heavenly vision, while M. de Brigode, who had taken the part of the fop, whispered to M. de Montbriton: "The Governor of Paris is much too realistic! How well the Princess has at last profited by his instruction! I wonder if they have not rehearsed more often than we?"**

Later there was dancing in the gallery, as in days of old, and Madame Junot sat by the side of the Queen of Naples [Julie Clary]. After the strain and excitement, of which the day had been so full, she scarcely tried to conceal how vexed and unhappy she felt. She saw her husband dance with Princess Caroline time after time, she saw their eyes meet in the gleam of the wax candles, and she understood what all the rest seemed now, also, to understand. She felt herself more deeply and bitterly humbled than ever before. She thought of the talk they had had a few weeks before, when she had so honestly confessed to him what she felt in her heart. She thought how she had put herself and her feelings as wife secondary, and how earnestly she had spoken to him of the danger to which he politically exposed himself by being on intimate terms with the Emperor’s enemies. Yes, enemies ! She knew that Caroline’s intrigue meant nothing less — and Napoleon, with his clear, penetrating insight into the heart of things, would understand as much as soon as he again set foot in Paris. This evening she had discovered a great deal more than ever before. For several months she clearly understood that Murat’s wife purposely wished to win the Governor of Paris as a political personage. She saw that Caroline, to be sure of him for her party should it suddenly become necessary to elect the Emperor’s successor, gave herself, her beauty, her womanliness as the price of his support. But to-night!... To-night she had seen, with her womanly instinct, that Caroline also loved Junot. She saw that now — for tonight at least — he was her master. Laurette had known Caroline Bonaparte for years; and when she saw her smile with half-closed eyes, as she rested on Junot’s arms during the waltz, she knew she would obey him in everything. Laurette also knew the power which a woman who really loves has over a man, and she now feared that she might lose him.

The kind Julie, the Queen of Naples, grasped her hand and pressed it several times in sympathy. Ah, she also had had experience, and understood perfectly what was happening! '‘You look so pale, little Laurette — come with me into the boudoir. You — in your condition — you have become dizzy with watching these whirling dancers — come!” The Queen put her arm in Laurette’s, and led her to the other room. Laurette heard them call for orange-blossom water, so she swallowed some of it when they put it to her lips. She had a certain unpleasant, humble feeling that these kind ladies pitied her, so her pride roused her to conquer her weakness. By summoning all her strong will she arose and said, smilingly: "This is really too comical! First, the Grand Duchess faints, and then I must faint too, to keep her company. Her Majesty is kept as busy on her birthday as a Sister of Charity!” At the moment she arose to order her carriage, Princess Caroline entered the room. “But we cannot possibly let her go alone, the sweet Laurette,” she said, as she turned to her sister-in-law. “Wait a moment until I go home, then you can ride in my carriage; it is easy and roomy. Is it not better, Junot,” she turned to the General, who was just entering the room, “that you both ride home with me? ” Junot was a little in doubt at this, and bent inquiringly over his wife. “Your Imperial Highness is too kind, but... well, what do you say, Laurette?” The Governor’s wife looked up at him. Over her pale face there glided, like a reflection, that ironic smile of hers that served her so well as a defensive mask. "I say, with you, ‘Her Highness is much too kind’; let us say 'Thanks.’” Then, after a moment’s pause, in which she got herself well in hand, in spite of many objections, she persisted in her wish to go. “This is only a little dizziness — it is over now,” she said, as she looked around. "I suppose you all think that the little one will arrive in the world on the road between Rueil and Paris. In that case, I hope that your Majesty will once more honour us by being godmother.” The ladies laughed aloud, and began to whisper and tell birth stories, of which they knew some peculiar ones, that they had heard from Madame Frangeau and Doctor Baudelocque. Out in the gallery the dancing was continued.

At last Madame Junot was seated in the Grand Duchess’ elaborate equipage. She sat on the front seat, at the side of Caroline and opposite her lady in attendance. Mademoiselle — or, rather, Madame la Grange, as she had a right to be called, on account of her age and special circumstances. Opposite the Princess sat Junot. Though the night was quite cool, her Highness constantly complained of the heat. She pulled the shawl from her bare shoulders in a playful, obstinate fashion, so that Junot was obliged, one time after another, to lay it around her with tender authority, while she sat and fanned herself. Suddenly it looked as though Caroline’s indisposition of the morning would repeat itself. She interrupted the conversation with a little scream and fell back with her hand on her heart. Junot quickly opened the carriage door. In the light of the carriage lanterns he saw the Princess’ pale face resting against the silk cushion. Frightened, he grasped her hands. “Help me out,” she whispered, with closed eyes. ‘‘Let me walk!... A little fresh air!...”

Junot almost lifted her in his arms from the carriage. His wife, who had hitherto looked as though she slept, turned her head and looked after them. Madame la Grange made an attempt to descend, but the Governor’s wife held her back. “I beg of you, madame, to remain! Some one must remain to protect the royal dignity.” “You are right; but the poor Duchess.... such a nervous attack!’’ And Madame la Grange sat down again — utterly at a loss.

After a quarter of an hour or so Junot returned, the Princess leaning heavily upon his arm. She was still pale, but her eyes beamed in the light of the torches which the lackies held outside the carriage door. When she took her seat again at the side of Madame Junot, she slipped her arm caressingly around her waist. "Were you frightened, little Laurette?" Madame Junot smiled; she was even paler than the Princess, she shook her head, and said, in a respectful tone: "Of course, I am very sorry that your Highness should be taken so unawares by this — attack; but as my husband was with you, I knew that nothing alarming could happen — especially on an evening promenade along a country road.’’

It was three o’clock when the carriage at last stopped at the Elysee. The Governor of Paris offered his hand to the Princess to escort her to her apartment. His coachman was ordered to wait. But Madame Junot was driven home in the Grand Duchess’ carriage — alone.'

*wow finally a narrative that acknowledges that the Junots have kids

**In her memoirs, Madame de Remusat mentions an amateur theatrical performance similar to this one, where Junot played a young soldier in love with two peasant girls played by Pauline and Caroline.

[uwmspeccoll]

Milestone Monday

On this day, July 24 in 1802, French novelist and playwright Alexandre Dumas was born in Picardy, France. With the help of his father, a general and aristocrat, Dumas acquired writing work with Louis Philippe, Duke of Orléans, setting the stage in his career for early success. Dumas lived a decadent life that he allegedly often could not afford, and in turn traveled regularly, fleeing creditors and relations with whom he had fallen out of favor. He spent time in Spain, Italy, Germany, England, Belgium and Russia, before returning to France in 1864. Dumas’s journeys inspired the adventurous themes of his many books and plays and left a legacy of prolific publications including The Count of Monte Cristo, The Nutcracker, and The Black Tulip, along with several illegitimate children.  

Amongst Dumas’s most well-known works, The Three Musketeers stands out as a classic historical adventure novel that has been translated into nearly one hundred languages and multiple mediums. First published serially between March and July 1844, The Three Musketeers was written in collaboration with Auguste Maquet, and while inspired by a true encounter between three young Béarnese it is in a whole a work of fiction. This two-volume, 1932 Limited Editions Club production of The Three Musketeers was illustrated by Pierre Falké (1884-1947) with vibrantly dynamic hand-colored prints, designed and printed by A. A. M. Stols at the Halcyon Press in Maastricht, Holland, in an edition of 1500 copies signed by the illustrator.  

After a life of writing, Dumas died of natural causes in December 1870. He was buried at his birthplace but was later re-interred at the infamous mausoleum of the Panthéon where his casket was carried in by Republican Guards costumed as the Musketeers. French President Jacques Chirac spoke at the re-interment doting on Dumas, “With you, we were D’Artagnan, Monte Cristo, or Balsamo, riding along the roads of France, touring battlefields, visiting palaces and castles-with you, we dream.”

-Jenna, Special Collections Graduate Intern

View more Milestone Monday posts.

[fullmetalscullyy]

ahhh idk what i'm doing hahaha but i was tagged by @the-blue-eyed-firebender to share four of my favourite fictional characters, and post a poll to vote on which one fits my vibe ✨

tagging @firewood-figs @dairogo @roseofbattles @nightofnyx8 if you'd like to have a go 🥰

[365days365movies]

Fantasy March: Omnibus

As I prepare for the future of this blog (and there is a future, if anybody's wondering), I find myself looking back at the good times, when I had the time to watch a movie a day and write a blog about it, which...yeah, wasn't even sustainable for me in 2021, so make of that what you will. ANYWAY, I decided that I would bring all of these posts together in an omnibus of sorts, so anybody that wanted to read these posts could find them all easily in one place. This, alongside other archives, are going to be pinned to the top of my page, and will serve as a long index of the films in the appropriate genres. The goal? To extend these archives as I go along, and have this running index for my blog. And again...there will be additions...

SO! With that, feel free to check out these films in the fantasy genre, which is another one of those overlap-prone genres, but with a very distinct vibe to them. The definition of the fantasy genre, for the sake of this blog, is any film where the plot is forwarded or the universe is built upon supernatural phenomena that cannot be explained by scientific means. That includes science fiction means, so no Star Wars, and no superhero films, but possibly some science fantasy. Any films you'd like to see in this list? Comment, reblog, message me, whatever! I'm always open to suggestions to add to my ever-building master list of fantasy films. And check out the other indices to come!

The Hobbit (1977; dir. Arthur Rankin Jr. and Jules Bass) (Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Review) The Last Unicorn (1982; dir. Arthur Rankin Jr. and Jules Bass) (Part One | Part Two | Review) Kiki's Delivery Service (1989; dir. Hayao Miyazaki) (Part One | Part Two | Review)

Spirited Away (2001; dir. Hayao Miyazaki) (Part One | Part Two | Review) The Tale of the Princess Kaguya (2013; dir. Isao Takahata ) (Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Review) Wolfwalkers (2020; dir. Tomm Moore and Ross Stewart) (Part One | Part Two | Review)

Onward (2020; dir. Dan Scanlon) (Part One | Part Two | Review) The Thief of Bagdad (1940; dir. Michael Powell, Ludwig Berger, and Tim Whelan) (Part One | Part Two | Review) Orpheus (1950; dir. Jean Cocteau ) (Part One | Part Two | Review) Ugetsu Monogatari (1953; dir. Kenji Mizoguchi and Kazuo Miyagawa) (Part One | Part Two | Review)

The Seventh Seal (1957; dir. Ingmar Bergman) (Part One | Part Two | Review) Jason and the Argonauts (1963; dir. Don Chaffey) (Part One | Part Two | Review) Kwaidan (1963; dir. Masaki Kobayashi) (Short One | Short Two | Short Three | Short Four | Review) The Holy Mountain (1973; dir. Alejandro Jodorowski ) (Part One | Part Two | Review)

Clash of the Titans (1981; dir. Desmond Davis) (Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Review) Legend (1985; dir. Ridley Scott ) (Part One | Part Two | Review) Darby O'Gill and the Little People (1959; dir. Robert Stevenson) (Part One | Part Two | Review) The Purple Rose of Cairo (1985; dir. Woody Allen) (Part One | Part Two | Review)

Wings of Desire (1987; dir. Wim Wenders) (Part One | Part Two) Death Becomes Her (1992; dir. Robert Zemeckis) (Part One | Part Two) Orlando (1992; dir. Sally Potter) (Recap) The Secret Garden (1993; dir. Agnieszka Holland) (Recap)

Omnibus: Film Reviews

[screenandcinema]

Looking Ahead to 2025

Now that we are almost a month into the new year, I thought this would be a good time to list the films I am most excited about coming to theaters in 2025. So I present the 25 films I am most excited about coming out this year (in alphabetical order):

28 Years Later

Director Danny Boyle and writer Alex Garland are back 23 years later in this follow-up to 2002's 28 Days Later. Whether 2007's 28 Weeks Later remains canon is still a question.

Avatar: Fire and Ash

The Na'vi are back and so will the audience.

Captain America: Brave New World

Anthony Mackie's Sam Wilson is Captain America in this new film co-starring Harrison Ford as President Thunderbolt Ross.

F1

Tron: Legacy and Top Gun: Maverick director Joseph Kosinski takes Brad Pitt around the race track in this sports action drama about Formula One racing.

Fountain of Youth

John Krasinski and Natalie Portman are siblings on the hunt for the Fountain of Youth in this heist adventure from director Guy Ritchie.

From the World of John Wick: Ballerina

Spinning out of the John Wick films comes this action thriller starring Ana de Armas that takes place between John Wick: Chapter 3 and Chapter 4.

Good Fortune

Comedian Aziz Ansari directed, wrote, and starred in this comedy alongside Keanu Reeves and Seth Rogen.

Jurassic World Rebirth

There will always be dinosaurs. Just ask director Gareth Edwards and Jurassic Park co-writer David Koepp about this newest installment starring Scarlett Johansson, Mahershala Ali, and Jonathan Bailey.

Materialists

Past Lives writer/director Celine Strong returns with a new film starring Dakota Johnson, Pedro Pascal, and Chris Evans.

Mickey 17

Robert Pattinson stars in this new science fiction black comedy from writer/director Bong Joon-ho.

Mission: Impossible - The Final Reckoning

Tom Cruise and Christopher McQuarrie return to the world of IMF for this eighth film in the acclaimed series.

Opus

Ayo Edebiri and John Malkovich star in this A24 thriller coming in March.

Predator: Badlands

Dan Trachtenberg is back with a new Predator movie. And good news! This one will be in theaters.

Sinners

Ryan Coogler writes and directs this original horror film starring Michael B. Jordan (in two roles!) and Hailee Steinfeld.

Superman

James Gunn kicks off his new DC Studios universe with this new film about the last son of Krypton.

The Accountant 2

Christian Wolff is back just a little after tax season for this sequel to the 2016 breakout hit action thriller also starring Ben Affleck and directed by Gavin O'Connor.

The Bride!

From writer/director Maggie Gyllenhaal comes a new monster movie starring Jessie Buckley as the Bride of Frankenstein and Christian Bale as Frankenstein's monster.

The Fantastic Four: First Steps

Marvel's first family is back on film with their first Marvel Studios film.

The Life of Chuck

From writer/director Mike Flanagan comes this adaptation of a Stephen King novella starring Tom Hiddleston.

The Running Man

Edgar Wright directs Glen Powell in this Stephen King adaptation.

Thunderbolts*

Marvel Studios is gathering a bunch of anti-heroes from previous films and shows together for this team-up.

Tron: Ares

Return the grid with this standalone threequel starring Jared Leto, Evan Peters, Jodie Turner-Smith, and Greta Lee.

Untitled Paul Thomas Anderson Film

Paul Thomas Anderson has a new film coming this August starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Regina Hall. What the movie is though? No one knows.

Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery

Detective Benoit Blanc is back in a new mystery from writer/director Rian Johnson.

Wicked: For Good

Ready for Wicked: Part Two? Well, here it is. Called something else.

Now for a quick look ahead to 2026, my top picks for that year are Avengers: Doomsday, The Mandalorian & Grogu, Project Hail Mary, a fourth Tom Holland Spider-Man film, The Mummy, Supergirl: World of Tomorrow, new films from Steven Spielberg, Christopher Nolan, Jordan Peele, JJ Abrams, and Denis Villeneuve and any of the above-mentioned films that get bumped to 2026.

Looking back at the 16 films on my Looking Ahead to 2024 list from last year: I saw 14 either at home or in theaters, one was bumped to 2025, and another lacks a release date that I am hopeful I will see in 2025 and would be at the top of this list if it had a release date. (looking at you Chapter 2).

-MB-

[nevinslibrary]

Totally Random Non-Fiction Tuesday

I’m not sure if it was too soon to read about this or not, but, I jumped in, despite having misgivings over whether I was ready or not. The Zaadam was a Holland America cruise ship which left Buenos Aires on March 7, 2020. Yes, that 2020, in the beginning of March. And then, it became stranded because the COVID-19 pandemic came down like a boom on so much of the world. No one would let it come into their harbour.

The book does really well taking first hand accounts of both the passengers and the crew, and it telling the Zaadam’s story. Running out of stuff, the illness itself, and more. It was an intense read for sure, but, a good one. I mean, to be fair I wasn’t going to go on a cruise before I read the book, but, now, yeah, I’m definitely never ever ever going on a cruise.

You may like this book If you Liked: The Passenger by Chaney Kwak, The Desperate Hours by Marie Brenner, or The Pandemic Paradox by Scott Lansing Fulford

Cabin Fever: The Harrowing Journey of a Cruise Ship at the Dawn of a Pandemic by Michael Smith

[pagesandpothos]

Book of the Month February Predictions

I love Book of the Month. I have found so many of my favorite books thanks to them and I genuinely look forward to choosing my book(s) at the beginning of each month.

Here are a few new releases that I think might be Book of the Month selections for February:

Romance

From the clues posted in their app, I think Book of the Month is choosing two romances this month and I think they are:

Bride by Ali Hazelwood: Releases February 6, 2024 by Berkley

Ready or Not by Cara Bastone: February 13, 2024 by Dial Press Trade Paperback

If there are any more romance (possibly as add-on options), I think How You Get The Girl by Anita Kelly and A Love Song for Ricki Wilde by Tia Williams are both a possibility (especially if they want to include more diversity).

Historical Fiction

The third clue posted in their app, points to a historical fiction with romance and mystery elements. I also think the new novel by Kristin Hannah is very likely to be a pick or, at least, an add-on.

The Mayor of Maxwell Street by Avery Cunningham: Releases January 30, 2024 by Hyperion Avenue

The Women by Kristin Hannah: Releases February 6, 2024 by St. Martin’s Press

If there are any other historical picks, I think The Fox Wife by Yangsze Choo and The Phoenix Crown by Kate Quinn & Janie Chang are options.

Thrillers

Book of the Month almost always chooses at least one thriller per month. It's their most consistent and popular genre. If they choose a thriller this month, I think it may be either:

Everyone Who Can Forgive Me Is Dead by Jenny Hollander: Releases February 6, 2024 by Minotaur Books

Nightwatching by Tracy Sierra: Releases February 6, 2024 by Pamela Dorman Books

Literary/Contemporary

Literary and Contemporary fiction are both frequent choices at Book of the Month. Here are three new releases that I think could be February options:

Wandering Stars by Tommy Orange: Releases February 27, 2024 by Knopf

Acts of Forgiveness by Maura Cheeks: Releases February 13, 2024 by Ballantine Books

The Things We Didn't Know by Elba Iris Pérez: Releases February 6, 2024 by Gallery Books

Fantasy / Magical Realism

Fantasy isn't picked very often by Book of the Month, so they may not have any this month. If they do (outside of Bride by Ali Hazelwood or, possibly, The Fox Wife by Yangsze Choo), they might choose:

The Ashfire King by Chelsea Abdullah: Releases February 20, 2024 by Orbit (possible as a mid-month add-on)

The Book of Doors by Gareth Brown: Releases February 13, 2024 by William Morrow

Island Witch by Amanda Jayatissa: Releases February 20, 2024 by Berkley (If BOTM doesn't select this one, I think it is very possible as an Aardvark Book Club pick in February or March!)

Young Adult

Like fantasy, young adult books are not chosen every month by Book of the Month but they do feature them regularly (sometimes as add-ons). If there are any young adult novels chosen this month, I think it will be Kacen Callender's newest release:

Infinity Alchemist by Kacen Callender: Releases February 6, 2024 by Tor Teen

Non-Fiction

This is another genre that doesn't feature often, but they recently added the following as an audiobook. I think it's possible the physical book might be added, at least, as an add-on selection:

One in a Millennial by Kate Kennedy: Released January 23, 2024 by St. Martin's Press

[theinquisitxor]

March 2024 Reading Wrap Up

I read 6 books in March, which was a little less than I was hoping for, but I thought the quality of what I read was very good. I read 3 fantasy books, 1 nonfiction, and 2 fiction. I read a few new releases and continued some series.

1.Us Against You by Frederik Backman (Beartown 2), 4/5 stars. I started March with reading the second book in this series, and it was just as emotional and good as book 1. I don't read a lot of fiction like this anymore, but I have been enjoying these books. I'm hoping to finish the series next month.

2. The Poison Prince by SC Emmet (Hostage of Empire 2), 4/5 stars. This is the second book in this courtly political east asian fantasy series. While the first book has bursts of action, this book was primarily no action/just politics. This is really shaping up to be a new favorite series which I hope to finish next month.

3. The Prisoner's Throne by Holly Black (The Stolen Heir Duology 2), 4/5 stars. This was a good conclusion to this duology, and I think I enjoyed this book more than the first. I liked seeing some of the characters from the first series, and get caught up with what is going on in Holly Black's world.

4. Knowing What We Know: The Transmission of Knowledge from Ancient Wisdom to Modern Magic by Simon Winchester. This was my nonfiction audiobook for the month, and the author narrated the audiobook himself. This is a huge topic for an author to try and address in one book, and I enjoyed the stories that Winchester tells throughout.

5. An Alchemy of Masques and Mirrors by Curtis Craddock (The Risen Kingdoms 1), 3/5 stars. This was my Random TBR Pick for the month of March. This book has been on my tbr since 2018, so I was happy to finally read it. This had a very unique world and setting which was cool to explore. Even though this is a series, I feel like you could read this just as a standalone. As of right now I don't plan on continuing.

6. North Woods by Daniel Mason, 5/5 stars. This was my favorite book I read this month, and a new all around favorite. This is exactly the type of literary fiction I enjoy, and checked so many boxes for me. I'll be thinking about this book for a long time to come.

That's all the books I read in March!

April TBR:

The Book of Doors by Gareth Brown

The Winners (Beartown 3) by Frederick Backman

The Bloody Throne (Hostage of Empire 3) by SC Emmet

Random TBR Pick: The Wall by Marlen Haushofer

The Familiar by Leigh Bardugo

Nonfiction Audiobook / The Language of Trees

If I have time:

The Hedgewitch of Fox Hall by Anna Bright

Song of the Huntress by Lucy Holland

[noctambulatebooks]

Reading 2024

1-January-2024: McPhee, John, Tabula Rasa (2023, USA)

7-January-2024: Zweig, Stefan, The World of Yesterday (1943, Austria)

21-January-2024: Kempowski, Walter, Tadellöser & Wolff (An Ordinary Youth) (1971, Germany)

26-January-2024: Han Suyin, Winter Love (1962, England)

30-January-2024: Thoreau, Henry David, Walden (1854, USA)

3-February-2024: brown, adrienne maree, Grievers (2021, USA)

8-February-2024: brown, adrienne maree, Maroons (2023, USA)

10-February-2024: Ernaux, Annie, Look at the Lights, My Love (2014, France)

18-February-2024: Ehle, John, The Land Breakers (1964, USA)

28-February-2024: Stille, Alexander, The Sullivanians: Sex, Psychotherapy, and the Wild Life of an American Commune (2023, USA)

9-March-2024: Flaubert, Gustave, Sentimental Education (1869, France)

12-March-2024: Brophy, Brigid, Hackenfeller’s Ape (1953, England)

18-March-2024: Maclean, Will, The Apparition Phase (2020, England)

25-March-2024: Malaparte, Curzio, Diary of a Foreigner in Paris (1966, Italy)

26-March-2024: Holm, Sven, Termush (1967, Denmark)

29-March-2024: DiPrima, Diane, Memoirs of a Beatnick (1969, USA)

1-April-2024: Klein, Naomi, Doppelgänger: A Trip Into the Mirror World (2023, USA)

12-April-2024: Yamazaki, Paul, Reading the Room: A Bookseller’s Tale (2024, USA)

17-April-2024: Zola, Émile, La Débâcle (1892, France)

22-April-2024: Clark, J. Carroll (pseud), Julia Valentine (2020, USA)

28-April-2024: Labatut, Benjamín, The Maniac (2023, Chile)

3-May-2024: Miéville, China, King Rat (1998, England)

9-May-2024: Manchette, Jean-Patrick, The Mad and the Bad (1972, France)

19-May-2024: Solomon, Deborah, Utopia Parkway: The Life and Work of Joseph Cornell (1997, USA)

21-May-2024: Bogdanich, Walt and Michael Forsythe, When McKinsey Comes to Town: The Hidden Influence of the World’s Most Powerful Consulting Firm (2022, USA)

25-May-2024: Tanizaki, Junichirō, Longing, and other stories (1921, Japan)

12-June-2024: Laxness, Halldør, Salka Valka (1932, Iceland)

17-June-2024: Clune, Michael, White Out: The Secret Life of Heroin (2013, USA)

23-June-2024: Gibson, William, Idoru (1996, USA)

25-June-2024: Lafargue, Paul, The Right to Be Lazy (1880, France)

30-June-2024: Lambert, Gavin, The Goodby People (1971, USA)

2-July-2024: Simenon, Georges, Sunday (1959, France)

7-July-2024: Adler, Renata, Speedboat (1976, USA)

15-July-2024: Gibson, William, Virtual Light (1993, USA)

24-July-2024: Adams, Henry, The Education of Henry Adams (1907, USA)

28-July-2024: Simenon, Georges, The Blue Room (1963, France)

6-August-2024: Mortimer, Penelope, The Pumpkin Eater (1962, England)

12-August-2024: Tucholsky, Kurt, Castle Gripsholm (1931, Germany)

15-August-2024: Swensson, Andrea, Deeper Blues: The Life, Songs, and Salvation of Cornbread Harris (2024, USA)

31-August-2024: Sturgis, Howard, Belchamber (1904, England)

8-September-2024: Crowley, John, Flint and Mirror (2022, USA)

15-September-2024: Conrad, Joseph, The Rover (1923, England)

20-September-2024: Simenon, Georges, The Old Man Dies (1966, France)

30-September-2024: Blackwood, Caroline, Corrigan (1984, England)

12-October-2024: Gibson, William, All Tomorrow’s Parties (1999. USA)

13-October-2024: McKinney, Cait, I Know You Are, but What Am I?: On Pee-wee Herman (2024, USA)

2-November-2024: Harris, MacDonald, Mortal Leap (1964, USA)

10-November-2024: Bouillier, Grégoire, The Mystery Guest: A True Story (2004, France)

19-November-2024: Moore, Thurston, Sonic Life: A Memoir (2023, USA)

23-November-2024: Carroll, Jordan S., Speculative Whiteness: Science Fiction and the Alt-Right (2024, USA)

27-November-2024: Duras, Marguerite, Yann Andréa Steiner (1992, France)

1-December-2024: Kennedy, Margaret, Troy Chimneys (1953, England)

14-December-2024: Coetzee, J.M., Waiting for the Barbarians (1980, South Africa)

21-December-2024: Fallada, Hans, Little Man, What Now? (1932, Germany)

24-December-2024: Banville, John, Snow (2020, Ireland)

31-December-2024: Couperus, Louis, Eline Vere (1889, Holland)