#lizzie grace novel

[blues824]

i saw the first years reacting to ciel!mc. so could you do jack,epel,rook, and kalim reaction to fem lizzy!mc. she is basically the epitome of a girly girl with a ditzy personality. however that facade changes when in chapter six, when they get surrounded by the S.T.Y.X robots she precedes to slice them down left to right showing that she is a skilled swordswoman and she told them the reason why she hides her amazing skill is because she thought they will leave her for being 'unladylike'.

Jack Howl

The first time you met him, you called him cute and started petting his tail. Had it not been for you holding it, his tail would have started wagging. His face was glowing red as he asked you to get away from him and stop petting his tail. You were definitely very bold for doing that, but now you have his attention.

You always dressed up in a very girly fashion, now that he thought about it. Once the two of you were in a committed relationship, you actually asked him to help you pick an outfit. It would be this whole ordeal, be it in Ramshackle or a date to the mall. Having him wait outside of the fitting rooms so that you could show him the clothes that you liked did make him a bit embarrassed and flustered, but he thought that it was better that he do it rather than someone else.

Now, this girly personality dropped when you grabbed your two swords and slashed at the STYX robots. You moved with such grace, and after the whole ordeal he asked why you hid your talent. You looked down as you said that it was unladylike, but he responded that you were acting very much like a lady for defending both him and yourself.

Kalim Al-Asim

He’s also very bold, so you were affectionate from the very start. He doesn’t mind you dressing him up and helping him choose an outfit that would match yours. He instead loves it, and it makes you look like a couple. You even help him choose one of his fancy bows to wear for the day, and he wears it with pride.

This man just loves spoiling you by bringing you to the mall and even his homeland of the Scalding Sands when you are on break and purchasing gifts for you. As grand as you are, you have been very overwhelmed by the amount of gifts he gets for you. It was on one of these trips where you saw a blacksmith forging a sword that looked familiar, and you quickly walked by it to try and get the memory of your life back in London out of your mind.

But, the events of Chapter Six really did not want you to forget. You slashed apart the robots with the swords that you had brought with you. Kalim was shocked that you were such a talented swordswoman, as he had not pieced it together yet. After, he asked why you never told him, and you told him that you were afraid he would leave you for not being ladylike. A few days later, you received two new swords with a gold pommel as well as a golden quillon, with a note addressed from your boyfriend that he loved you and hoped these swords would do well.

Rook Hunt

As much as he liked to stalk you, he still didn’t know too much about you. To be fair, once he had expressed interest in you, you already confided in him a few times. The way he made your heart swoon reminded you of how the young maidens within the old romance novels you poured over were swooning over their knights. 

Yes, the hunter knew about the effect he had on you, because you had the same effect on him. His heart called out for you, and when he couldn’t see you he would sit down and write a small couplet about his feelings. He’s found that it’s the best way to express his feelings and retell them to you later. He did not hold back either, and it sounded like you were dead once you read them.

That aside, he had somehow not known you were a talented swordswoman until you came slashing in at the STYX robots. He was using his bow and arrow right alongside you, and you both made quite the team. Afterwards, he asked how you came to have such a skill, and you told him that you always had it back in your world, but you hid it because it was unladylike to fight. He immediately pulled you into his arms while shaking his head, saying that he found you absolutely beautiful with a sword (or two) in your hands.

Epel Felmier

You both were complete opposites, and he at first found you to be very annoying. However, you showed him a level of kindness that he had not experienced before, and he soon found himself completely in love. You would actually distract Vil by asking him to dress you up rather than Epel because you were obsessed with the Victorian style of dresses (which wasn’t far off, considering you had teleported to Twisted Wonderland in a dress similar to the patterns that Vil was looking at). 

It was through said Housewarden where a gown and a matching suit for the two of you. Because of the slight bit of inspiration, Vil had thrown a ball within Pomefiore. You were absolutely beautiful in Epel’s eyes. He said so himself, and his rural accent accidentally slipped out. You giggled as you led him in a waltz (this man probably only knows how to line dance). At least he didn’t step on your foot.

What really threw him in for a loop was when the events of Chapter Six took place and you came in, swords swinging. The country boy let out a gasp as he saw his girlfriend absolutely destroy the STYX robots, along with his Vice Housewarden. Afterwards, he asked how on Earth you were so skilled with a blade, and you were a bit flustered and embarrassed. You said that you had learned since you were young, but you hid it because it was unladylike. He didn’t mind it though, and thought it was so cool.

[thatscarletflycatcher]

Okay you got me. Tell me about PP 1980

Okay, so XD

Imagine you had a BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice that was 5 hours long, faithful to the book, and yet having a different perspective/understanding/interpretation of the characters and the story? That's P&P 1980 in a nutshell, and I think it is worth watching just for that. But here are some other concrete things it has going for it, specially in relation to other adaptations:

The casting is closer in age than 95, and on one specific important case, closer than 05 too: Lady Catherine de Bourgh is played by an actress in her mid 40s, and she nails the absolute Opinionated Facebook AuntTM thing that the character has going in the novel.

It's not the only case of closer accuracy to the book in characters: Mr Collins is a young, tall, big guy, whose main issue is being very small minded, petty, and obsequent, instead of recurring to "he's greasy or slimy" as other adaptations do.

If you agree/like the "Darcy has autism" headcanon, this is the adaptation that leans the most heavily into it (it does overdo it, in my opinion, but there's a very interesting contrast between the flat affect of his facial expression, and the richness of inflexion in his voice)

Elizabeth Garvie's Lizzy is just... extraordinary. This adaptation circumvents the Jane-as-prettier-than-Lizzy issue by casting as Lizzy an actress with big, dark, very expressive eyes, small features and a very lively, sharp countenance and manners, whereas Jane's actress is tall and graceful and has a general air of kindness and sweetness, but in a very youthful way.

Speaking of Jane, this adaptation focuses much more on the sisters as sisters, and gives special emphasis to Lizzy's love for Jane, which I appreciate a lot.

Also speaking of Jane, Jane and Bingley are the cutest in this. They are given time, and he's kind and sociable and sweet without being an idiot. This adaptation includes that great line of his about how he wouldn't mind Darcy so much if he wasn't so tall, and the following comment about how Darcy can be fastidious of a Sunday evening.

That way, this adaptation includes several fan favorite scenes/lines that don't usually make it to adaptation, such as Darcy asking Lizzy to dance a reel, Lizzy playing and singing at a party in Meryton, Caroline teasing Darcy about putting uncle and aunt Phillips on the Pemberley portrait gallery, and the "I cannot fix the hour or the spot..." line. EDIT: also, the coffee pot scene!! and the rivalry between Mrs Bennet and Lady Lucas!

I also think it balances well how awful, in different ways, both Mr and Mrs Bennet (EDIT: and she's not insufferably shrill!!!!) are as parents (unlike how 95 and 05 "pick sides"); it emphasizes how self centered her efforts are, and how lazy and callous he can be in his mockery and indolence.

The opening sequence of each episode is a roll of a hand-drawn summary of the events of the episode and that's such a lovely detail.

Mind you, the adaptation is not without its faults. The production values are not what we are accustomed to nowadays. Some acting and lines are stilted and/or awkward. It has the odd choice here and there that is involuntarily funny. But I don't think people need discouragement from seeing it. I don't even think most of the general Austen fandom is aware of its existence. For my part, it has become my favorite adaptation of P&P (that I have watched so far; I haven't gotten yet to either 1967 or the Italian one).

[deadendtracks]

look there's a lot of interpretations of tommy/lizzie from tommy/lizzie shippers that i disagree with -- i don't think he was ever obsessed with her, i have a different take on the 'my property' scene, her being told not to date angel changretta was not in any way personal and was entirely about his paranoia about the russian business, john was the one acting like an obsessed stalker that season, etc. Theirs is not a romance novel kind of relationship.

at the same time, interpretations of tommy/lizzie from the grace fans are always so... blatantly divorced from the reality of canon but in a bad faith way they insist is just them being realistic or objective or worse, looking out for lizzie or feeling 'bad' for her.

like we can all see what you're doing, you know, because had any given scene you're commenting on been Grace instead of Lizzie, you'd have a completely different take.

that's an oversimplification because of course contexts differ but like. why isn't the scene where grace chides tommy and hugs him after he finds the threat to charlie interpreted as her acting like his mother?

stuff like that. it's just very transparent.

Tommy and Lizzie are messy adults, who aren't in a romance novel, whose relationship doesn't fit romance novel tropes (not even the 'rich boss marries his poor/golddigging secretary' ones). He very obviously does not look at her as a servant, nanny, sex worker, or mother in their canonical relationship, and just about every instance grace stans bring up about this stuff has to do with Tommy's reactions to ongoing trauma, not his utter dislike, disregard, and disrespect for Lizzie. Which is not to say he treats her entirely well, because he doesn't.

But there's some real weird shit going on in those interpretations of what that relationship means to both characters and it would really be nice if you folks kept it to yourselves.

[evita-shelby]

A different sort of man

Chapter 5

Cw: cheating (technically?) Racism

Taglist: @thegreatdragonfruta @zablife @cillmequick @look-at-the-soul @midnightswithdearkatytspb

Gif by @jeonfknjungkook

“I will not leave until I have seen him.” Grace demands with her arms crossed.

“The Lady is not to be disturbed, please come back later.” Lady Smallbrook's housekeeper stands her ground and tried to get her to leave.

But Grace heard it all the same, god, he was never this enthusiastic in bed with her.

Angry tears welled up in her eyes.

Wasn’t it enough that she’d given him the boy? Wasn’t it enough that she had killed for him?

Grace takes her gun and aims it at the servants.

“Tell me to leave one more time, and I will shoot.” The Irish woman warned and went to confront her dirty gypsy husband.

He's got dirty blood, no amount of money’s going to wash it off, her aunts and uncles had said and she hadn’t paid attention to their cruel words even when she discovered he still had his way with Lizzie Stark during their long engagement.

“I love you, Evie,” her husband said to the woman who she had believed to have gotten rid off for good in 1919. “God, I missed you.”

Campbell had promised to send her back where she came from for interfering in her mission.

And yet here she was in bed with Grace’s husband.

She could kill them both. She’s got the bullets for it.

But she doesn’t.

Not when the whore takes Thomas’ gun and aims it at her.

“Fire that gun, Miss. Burgess, and I’ll make sure you it’s you who meets us in hell.” The woman threatened and Grace does the best not to cry, but her angry and heartbroken tears flow freely as she stands there like the pathetic wife in a novel.

“How could you?” she shouts at them, at her husband. “How could you?”

“Fuck, fuck,” Eva paces as she tried to make sense of what went wrong.

This Eva has a baby, a complex business and hopefully a diary of sorts.

The only diary, Eva has kept was that one with visions she had in the desert and of no use.

Or could it?

“Call Polly, she might be helpful.” Thomas, not the Tommy who lives here, suggested as he dressed for today.

She should do the same, but in her panic when the three-year-old boy cried for her, she forgot.

There are photographs, a list the other Eva made for Thomas and hopefully a Polly Gray willing to help.

They still spoke to each other, not as warm as it used to be. Polly thought she had been using them when she was told to choose between certain death or boring Lord Smallbrook.

“I know, Shelby. I’m not stupid.” She told her apparent husband.

What had she done wrong? She said the words exactly as it said, what went wrong?

“Should we stop her?” Eva asked and Tommy shrugged as Grace ran out in tears and saying all the horrible things she had been holding back.

Gypsy bastard, bean-eating tramp, son of a whore, brown-skinned foreign whore, fucking tinker.

Tommy wondered if this Thomas knew how racist his wife could be when pushed over the precipice.

Eva never stooped that low, the most hurtful thing she said to him was that he had big fucking head for such a short man and immediately apologized after.

“She’s not my wife, I don’t know.” He said wanting to return to much better things.

“No, but she thinks you are her husband.” Eva pointed out.

“Fuck.” How do you explain, I am not your husband, at least not in my universe?

How do you explain that the Thomas who loves her is stuck in a universe where he got over her less than a few days after she left?

Fuck.

It was one thing pretending to be this Thomas for a day, it will be hell to be Thomas Shelby for any longer than that.

Hell, he already had ruined his marriage in the span of twenty-four hours.

Oh, well, there was nothing he could do about it.

“Do you know what you fucked up in your spell last night?” he asked turning to his real wife.

“I have some theories. One involves the house.”

Up until this year, Eva was relatively weak.

Somewhere, an Eva had begun using her magic to its full potential and opened the tap for every Eva in every fucking universe.

Every attempt at scrying used to end with a headache, once she lost her shadow at a party and her husband may have died because she separated his soul from his body when she played the wicked witch and tied him to a cursed chair.

This Eva had chosen at random following a dumb question by her husband.

What would my life be without you, chovvikanon?

And as luck would have it, the spell had worked and sent him to Grace Burgess’ bed.

At least that universe had her, some universes Eva has been dead for years, is married to someone else, or flat out doesn’t exist.

The obsidian mirror Eva inherited from her late aunt manages to become clear as a window and reveals, not Tommy and his wife. No, it reveals and absolutely livid Grace who just trashed Arrow House in all its gaudiness, packed her things and has her muttering the letter she has written to her cheating husband.

“I lied; the boy isn’t yours.” She says and ordered for Mary to give this to her husband.

“I’m sorry, Thomas.” The witch apologized to the man who is more heartbroken about the boy not being his than his wife leaving.

“I had my suspicions about the boy, but it wasn’t your fault.” He dismissed her apology as he watched Grace take the crying boy and leave his life forever. It hurt him, not that the man would admit it.

“Still, I’m sorry this happened to you.” The witch said softly, and he nodded accepting her sympathies.

When they arrive at Arrow House, a grim-faced Polly and an apologetic Johnny Dogs greet Tommy.

“She took the boy and left a letter, Tom.” The Romani man said, taking his hat off and giving him his sympathies.

“A problem for the other Thomas, Johnny.” Polly said as she took them inside where every painting has been torn apart, everything breakable broken and a letter in a vase missing roses and filled with thorns. “This one is just relieved Grace won’t be an inconvenience.”

“Unfortunately.” Tommy said with a shrug.

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🗞️ Bookish News: August 2024 Edition

🦇 Extra, extra. Read all about it! Good evening, bookish bats! A lot happened in the publishing industry this month, but here are a few highlights you may have missed! ⤵

📺 Adaptations 💜 The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires: limited series on HBO 💜 His & Hers - Alice Feeney: limited series for Netflix 💜 The God of the Woods and The Unseen World - Liz Moore: series for Sony 💜 My Lady Jane cancelled by Prime after one season 💜 Mark Hamill has joined the highly anticipated adaptation of Stephen King’s The Long Walk 💜 Court of Thorns and Roses series faces another setback - showrunner exits the production 💜 Trailer for Season 2 of Pachinko 💜 Britney Spears’ memoir is being made into a biopic 💜 Tom Blyth and Emily Bader starring in Netflix’s People We Meet on Vacation by Emily Henry 💜 The Games of Thrones prequel promos are out 💜 Burn Book: A Tech Love Story - Kara Swisher optioned as a series 💜 Every Summer After - Carley Fortune - Amazon series 💜 Regretting You - Colleen Hoover - McKenna Grace to star ppposite Allison Williams 💜 Verity - Colleen Hoover - no casting yet 💜 Percy Jackson season 2 is currently filming, and Sandra Bernhard, Kristen Schaal, and Margaret Cho have joined the cast of the Disney+ series 💜 Remarkably Bright Creatures - Shelby Van Pelt - Sally Field to star 💜 Bridgerton cast Yerin Ha as Sophie Beckett, Benedict’s love interest 💜 The Picture of Dorian Gray is getting a contemporary TV series adaptation 💜 Kazuo Ishiguro’s debut novel A Pale View of Hills is getting an adaptation

📕 Cover Reveals 💜 When We Were Real - Daryl Gregory 💜 Blood on Her Tongue - Johanna van Veen 💜 Frenemies with Benefits - Synithia Williams 💜 The ABCs of Democracy - Hakeem Jeffries 💜 Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke 💜 Cleavage: Men, Women, and the Space Between Us - Jennifer Finney Boylan 💜 The Silent Emperor - Snorri Krsitjansson 💜 Nothing Bad Happens Here - Rachel Ekstrom Courage 💜 Open, Heaven - Seán Hewitt 💜 And, Too, the Fox - Ada Limón & Gaby D’Alessandro 💜 On Again, Awkward Again - Erin Entrada Kelly and Kwame Mbalia 💜 Stop Me if You’ve Heard This One - Kristen Arnett 💜 Stage Dance - Torrey Peters 💜 The Hymn to Dionysus - Natasha Pulley 💜 Time After Time - Mikki Daughtry 💜 Pizza Witch - Sarah Graley & Stef Purenins 💜 A Drop of Corruption - Robert Jackson Bennett

⏰ Upcoming Releases 💜 Young Sheldon actress Raegan Revord is publishing her debut young adult novel, Rules for Fake Girlfriends 💜 Liza Minnelli has announced a new tell-all memoir 💜 Brooke Shields is Not Allowed to Get Old - Brooke Shields 💜 Maureen Johnson has announced a new book which she describes as “a case file in book form,” with a sealed solution in the back of the book: You Are the Detective: The Creeping Hand Murder 💜 Olympic track star Allyson Felix has sold North American rights to a memoir, Fast and Slow, to the Dial Press 💜 Meghan Markle is allegedly planning on releasing a tell-all memoir 💜 House of Blight - Maxym M. Martineau 💜 Tor acquired Talia Hibbert’s romantasy debut The Last Thorn

🗞️ News 💜 Francine Pascal, author of the Sweet Valley High books, died at 92 💜 This year’s longlist for the Booker Prize has been announced 💜 Flatiron is debuting a new imprint, Pine and Cedar Books 💜 New GMA Book Club pick: The Seventh Veil of Salome - Silvia Moreno-Garcia 💜 Algerian boxer and gold medalist Imane Khelif has filed a cyber harassment lawsuit against Elon Musk and JK Rowling for their disparaging comments about the boxer’s gender during the Olympics 💜 Kristen Bell will be reuniting with her Frozen costar, Josh Gad, to narrate his upcoming children’s book PictureFace Lizzy

[lizzi3]

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WELCOME TO MY BLOG

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About Me:

Name’s Lizzy or Lizzie whatever you like go crazy

Minor, middle of teens 14-16

Fashion alternates between 70s, 80s glam/alt/prep, 90s grunge/etc. idk what to classify

I am a maximalist, minimalism makes me sick where’s the personality?

As for my relationship status none because guys don’t really freakin like me and all that I know are insufferable + don’t have long hair

Manifesting being famous rockstar one day

All you need to know is that I am a music junkie

I make my hair real big n frizzy like it 1986 cuz it’s curly

I’m literally Grace Bowers I’m not kidding we’re basically twins curly hair and all

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Interests:

-Music:

My favs rn are if you couldn’t tell Poison, Hole, Nirvana, Jeff Buckley, n Van Halen etc etc basically I like all sub genres of rock n metal n such n alternative n basically everything except the stuff I don’t like?? good soup is good soup

-Movies:

Fav movies rn: Lisa Frankenstein, The Outsiders, Tex, Grease, The Warriors, Wayne’s World, Over the Edge, n Brokeback Mountain

A lot of 70s-80s coming of age stuff

-Books:

Pride & Prejudice

The Outsiders

Tiger Eyes (Judy Blume)

Emma

Rebecca

If you have recommendations for coming of age novels please tell me!!

-Misc:

Drawing

Electric Guitar

Writing

Photography

US History

Makeup (basically eyeshadow n eyeliner)

Bangs Supremecy everyone should have bangs

Downtown (mtv)

*I will add more*

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[bethanydelleman]

Hello! How are you ?

I was wondering, do you think Darcy and Lizzie's firstborn son would be called Bennet just like Darcy was named after him mother's maiden name or are the Bennets not fancy enough and the boy would just be called Fitzwilliam after his dad?

I am very well, thank you. Also, this answer went long, sorry!

Among the gentry families, Jane Austen either names a firstborn son after his father or grandfather.

Eg. Charles Sr., Jr. and Jrr., Sir Thomas and Tom.

Henry Knightley is named after Mr. Woodhouse, not his father John (the second son is named John).

Harry Dashwood would named after Mr. Henry Dashwood, not his father John.

It has occurred to me, though I have no evidence, that when naming is done for a grandfather, it's in the hope of future inheritance. John might well be named after Uncle Dashwood because Henry Dashwood (Elinor's father) wanted to keep in his good graces and Harry might be named for the same reason. After all, Norland was not entailed and could have gone to anyone. (Uncle Dashwood leaves it to Harry, with a life interest for Henry and John). Same with Henry Knightley, it might be a bid for Hartfield. Anyway...

Now the Darcy family touches the aristocracy and they do not follow the general trend in Austen's novels. Darcy has his mother's last name and Lady Catherine has named her only daughter after her sister. I assume this was part of the planned to marry from their cradles scheme. Georgiana is generally assumed to be named after her father, as we know his godson is George Wickham too. Anyway...

Darcy probably has his mother's last name as a sort of resume, you know he's related to an earl just from his name. Now 'Bennet' has none of that importance, 'Bennet' is probably a pretty common name and it wouldn't be an instant connection tag.

HOWEVER, Mr. Bennet has no sons so his name is going to die. Elizabeth loves her father, I could see her wanting to name a son after her father in that way, so maybe yes? In Wives & Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell, the first son is named his mother's maiden name and the Squire outright tells us that her family was not significant. The second son has his father's name. But I'm not focusing on general trends here, just Austen.

I could see Darcy wanting to give his first name to his son. He is proud of his heritage after all.

HOWEVER Darcy also seems to have really loved his father and maybe he would want to name his firstborn after Mr. Darcy Sr. whose name we presume was George.

So I mean I don't know. I think Bennet, Fitzwilliam, and Darcy Sr.'s name would all be in the running. However, as much as Elizabeth loves her father, I think Darcy's family significance would probably win out, so my vote is either Fitzwilliam or Darcy's Sr.'s name, with a younger son being Bennet (if they want to go that way.)

I could also totally see their firstborn daughter being named Anne instead of Elizabeth.

Additional note: I know that Wickham would give them bad name associations with "George" but considering how commonly used these names were back then and Georgiana being the beloved sister, I don't think the name would be ruined for them.

[ofliterarynature]

MAY 2023 WRAP UP

loved liked okay no thanks dnf book club*

The Sugared Game | Think of England | Slippery Creatures | We Free the Stars | The Song of Achilles* | Clary Sage | Busman’s Honeymoon | We Hunt the Flame | Salt Fat Acid Heat | House of Many Ways | Mansfield Park | The Mimicking of Known Successes | The Secret Diary of Lizzie Bennet | Scorched Grace | Mostly Dead Things

I hope anyone else who had a long weekend for Memorial Day had some good reading! I fully intended to start Bordertown and next months book club but did not, oops. Instead I had an excellent time hiking at one of our state parks, so I guess the trade off is fair!

I’d also love recommendations for a classic mystery series or my next DWJ if you have any thoughts.

* * *

The highlight of this month was the final Peter Wimsey novel Busman’s Honeymoon, which was so good, everyone was right about the Harriet Vane books being the best, and I’m devastated there’s not more (I still have to hunt down the short stories, but it’s not the same).

As for the good, Mansfield Park was my last, much belated Austen and while slow, I love Fanny so much! House of Many Ways was also fun, and I think I can conclusively say I didn’t like HMC much not because tumblr had spoiled me, but because I enjoy Howl more in small doses and not as the entree. Clary Sage was an unexpected but welcome little addition to the Greenwing & Dart series (Hal!!!) and I’m mad at my brain that I haven’t been able to wrangle myself into reading Victoria’s previous release yet. Which is to say, I’ve thrown myself at KJ Charles because I know they’ll be enjoyable, easy reads and I’m trying desperately to get my reading brain back on track. (So far I’d rate Will Darling better than The Magpie Lord, if we want to talk her mystery series)

Salt Fat Acid Heat probably would have gotten bumped up to ‘liked” if I’d had a physical copy to look at (would not rec just the audiobook) so I might do that in the future. We Hunt the Flame was ok - definitely readable, I liked the second book more but maybe just from familiarity - but it’s on that YA/adult line I’m not super into right now. The Mimicking of Known Successes had interesting world building, but the mystery was meh. I also don’t think you should be able to call your mc sherlockian if they’re an actual member of a police force?

(The less said about Achilles the better, if I’d been reading it for myself I’d have quit before 50%)

Several DNFs this month, alas. Lizzie Bennet was the third and last of the P&P spin-offs I own and the only one I quit. I probably could have finished it, but it wasn’t amazing writing and the characters were very immature. Maybe it’d work better if you read it while watching the show? (And not 8 years later lol). I was super disappointed to quit Scorched Grace, queer nun + mystery is a fascinating combo, but it was trying so hard for gritty modern noir that it was off putting. I also tried and quit Mostly Dead Things the same day - I was drawn in by the weirdness of the blurb, but it was pretty quickly obvious it was going more sad than quirky and we weren’t going to get along.

[marvelous-mushroom-lady]

Post Breakup Rant Incoming

I went through a break up late march and suddenly all of TS's songs make a terrible sense to me. I feel like this is my first true heart break, like he's the one that got away. I listen to Lizzy McAlpine music and it's not for fanfic inspo anymore.

I miss very simple things, like recognizing a show he might like and talk to him about it. I miss spending the weekend together in bed with his or my cats. I miss his two chubby cats. I miss his friends, they were all super nice to me and I felt like if we had more time we could become friends as well.

I miss seeing small things and trinkets that he would love. I miss telling him about my D&D sessions, planning games with him. I miss telling him about video games I liked and finding new ones we might play together.

This feels like friendship breakup on top of the regular breakup.

I'm currently changing my summer wardrobe and thinking how we were supposed to be moving in together around this time. I had to wait to see if we break up because my matress got too old and lumpy to sleep on. I told myself that if we move in I won't have to buy a new one.

Now I'm going to IKEA with my mom to look for a cheap option.

I'm buying my cat a new cat tree knowing she won't be sharing it with two older sisters. That she'll probably stay my only fur baby for a while.

I met him at a mutual friend hangout yesterday. I saw him but decided I'm too hurt to say Hi. I ignored him and felt good talking to different people. And then he came up to me and said hi himself. I don't know why he did that, why he thought it would be okay. He broke my facking adult lady heart and I made sure he knew it. I coldly replied and moved along. I texted him after I left that if he ever sees me at a geek event he shouldn't approach me. I was dying to see if he replies and what he'd say. A small part of me hoped he'd be angry or sad. But nope. Just texted me back a thumbs up emoji. I hate that I feel this way about so many small things. I feel like a teenager with a crush on a boy at school that didn't work out.

He broke up with me two times before, so this is just... I feel like I'm actively dealing with the clearest end of a relationship. This is a person that I could never go back to. We can never become friends. He's just going to turn into a stranger I never acknowledge, this person who at one time knew almost every small thing about me, and I knew about him.

All the jerky poetry and Jane Austen novels make sense, but this one is not getting back into my good graces with a well written letter. We already did that before. And I let him back in for almost a year. And the worst of it is, I feel like I don't know what would be worse - If he tries to get back despite promising me he wouldn't, or if he never wants to again. If he truly moves on from me and I won't really move on, just along.

I was so angry yesterday, partly because seeing him reminded me how broad and soft his shoulders are. How the last time we were at the park with his friends I'd constantly lean on him. How kind his eyes are. How great it was to kiss him casually, lightly. How at home that feeling was.

I really hope you get more than one 'soulmate' type love in your life. Because honestly, that feeling of comforting, homely love was the best while it lasted. Nothing less than that will be enough.

[bookclub4m]

Episode 176 - Fantasy

This episode we’re talking about the genre of Fantasy! We discuss whether fantasy needs magic, clam powers, forklore, Tears of the Kingdom, worksonas, It’s Always My First Day at Wizard School, and more!

You can download the podcast directly, find it on Libsyn, or get it through Apple Podcasts, Stitcher, Google Podcasts, or your favourite podcast delivery system.

In this episode

Anna Ferri | Meghan Whyte | Matthew Murray | Jam Edwards

Things We Read (or tried to…)

The Empress of Salt and Fortune by Nghi Vo

When the Tiger Came Down the Mountain by Nghi Vo

Trail of Lightning by Rebecca Roanhorse

Storm of Locusts by Rebecca Roanhorse

Sing, Nightingale by Marie Hélène Poitras, translated by Rhonda Mullins

A Master of Djinn by P. Djèlí Clark

The Haunting of Tram Car 015 by P. Djèlí Clark

Under the Whispering Door by TJ Klune, narrated by Kirt Graves

The Salt Grows Heavy by Cassandra Khaw

Lakelore by Anna-Marie McLemore

Babel: An Arcane History by R.F. Kuang

The Chill by Scott Carson

Nothing but Blackened Teeth by Cassandra Khaw

Big Machine by Victor LaValle

Other Media We Mentioned

The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien

Dragonriders of Pern by Anne McCaffrey (Wikipedia)

Elfquest by Wendy and Richard Pini (Wikipedia)

Read it online free!

Steven Universe (Wikipedia)

Sailor Moon (Wikipedia)

Squire by Sara Alfageeh and Nadia Shammas

Graceling by Kristin Cashore

The Golden Compass / Northern Lights by Philip Pullman

The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien

Redwall (Wikipedia) Brian Jacques

The Discworld Mapp: Being the Onlie True and Mostlie Accurate Mappe of the Fantastyk and Magical Dyscworlde by Terry Pratchett and Stephen Briggs

Discworld (Wikipedia)

The Chronicles of Narnia (Wikipedia) by C.S. Lewis

The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis

Alanna: The First Adventure by Tamora Pierce

Wise Child by Monica Furlong

Juniper by Monica Furlong

The Sandman (comic book) (Wikipedia)

Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (Wikipedia)

The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom (Wikipedia)

Yakuza 0 (Wikipedia)

A Song of Ice and Fire (Wikipedia) by George R. R. Martin

The series of novels on which the television series Game of Thrones is based

The Wheel of Time (Wikipedia) by Robert Jordan

The Black God's Drums by P. Djèlí Clark

Leaving Mundania: Inside the Transformative World of Live Action Role-Playing Games by Lizzie Stark

Links, Articles, and Things

X-Men (Wikipedia)

Scarlet Witch

Magik (Illyana Rasputina) (though her magic powers are separate from her mutation)

Magical girl (Wikipedia)

Alebrije (Wikipedia)

Dungeons & Dragons (Wikipedia)

Independence Day (1996 film) (Wikipedia)

30 Fantasy fiction by BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, & People of Colour) Authors

Every month Book Club for Masochists: A Readers’ Advisory Podcasts chooses a genre at random and we read and discuss books from that genre. We also put together book lists for each episode/genre that feature works by BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, & People of Colour) authors. All of the lists can be found here.

Light from Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki

Road of the Lost by Nafiza Azad

A Broken Blade by Melissa Blair

A Thousand Steps into Night by Traci Chee

The Last Tale of the Flower Bride by Roshani Chokshi

The Unbroken by C.L. Clark

The Book Eaters by Sunyi Dean

Legendborn by Tracy Deonn

VenCo by Cherie Dimaline

The Daughters of Izdihar by Hadeer Elsbai 

We Hunt the Flame by Hafsah Faizal

Blood Scion by Deborah Falaye

The Gilda Stories by Jewelle Gomez

The Lost Dreamer by Lizz Huerta

Black Leopard, Red Wolf by Marlon James

The Fifth Season by N.K. Jemisin

The Björkan Sagas by Harold R. Johnson

Untethered Sky by Fonda Lee

Six Crimson Cranes by Elizabeth Lim

A Magic Steeped in Poison by Judy I. Lin

The Grace of Kings by Ken Liu

The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches by Sangu Mandanna

The Return of the Sorceress by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

The Famished Road by Ben Okri

Beasts Made of Night by Tochi Onyebuchi

The Monsters We Defy by Leslye Penelope

Black Sun by Rebecca Roanhorse

The Jasmine Throne by Tasha Suri

Cemetery Boys by Aiden Thomas

The Rage of Dragons by Evan Winter

Give us feedback!

Fill out the form to ask for a recommendation or suggest a genre or title for us to read!

Check out our Tumblr, follow us on Twitter or Instagram, join our Facebook Group, or send us an email!

Join us again on Tuesday, June 20th we’re talking about celebrity book clubs and one book reading campaigns!

Then on Tuesday, July 4th we’ll be discussing non-fiction books about UFOs and Aliens!

[handmadenostalgia]

Lana Del Rey’s First Summer

Elisa Carini & Vincenzo Grasso

As in a Orthodox Christian service, Lana Del Rey turns her back to the audience. Having consumed the first half of the concert, she pauses for a few minutes in the feverish atmosphere at the Bussoladomani Park, in Lido di Camaiore. It’s July 2nd, 2023, and we are on the last day of “La Prima Estate” Festival. The monologue that accompanies the music video of one of her best-known singles, Ride, starts on the screen, projected at the back of the stage. Her recorded voice recites:

I was in the winter of my life, and the men I met along the road were my only summer…

One after the other, in snapshots, Lana’s thousand summers come to life: the Lana-before-fame, when she was Lizzy Grant and had platinum blonde hair; Lana in Video Games, the 2011 YouTube phenomenon that changed everything with a homemade video clip and a chorus backed by her smoky timbre impossible to replicate. As she told the Daily Mail in 2011: ‹‹If I’d known so many people were going to watch it, I would have made very different choices››. And yet, it may have been precisely these choices – the low-resolution webcam pointed at her face; the lips stretched out like a canthus – that marked the trajectory of an artist destined to become a cult figure in the contemporary music scene. And then again, in a coast-to-coast journey through her catalogue of records, she shows all of her transformations. While we’re at it, we wonder why such an artist would choose Lido di Camaiore as the venue for her only Italian date, announced just six days before.

Perhaps, this exemplifies an aesthetic of subtraction, one that Lana has pursued throughout her career. Her stage-fright, the terror of the spotlight, perhaps even an awareness of the inability to live up to the expectations placed on female artists in pop music. So, she also deletes her social media. The music can “speak for itself”, no promotional strategy other than the vicarious marketing of her own fanbase.

The location is certainly not easy to get to, but today we’re 17,000.

When the monologue ends and Lana returns to our gaze, we wonder what her next move will be. When will the Lana we see now become part of this celebratory carousel?

Handmade nostalgia

Red heart-shaped sunglasses, white flowers in dark hair, mullets and mustaches, cherry coke and peyote T-shirts, cowboy boots, denim shorts, ethereal dresses. Cameras capture an excited, eager crowd. After a sunny afternoon it starts to wind up. Reflected on the large screens, a boy holds up a sign that says "MOMMY?", he smiles.

Through a vast repertoire curated over the course of a decade, Lana has created a complex, distinctive and, for the early 2000s, innovative narrative universe. Her references include some of the cornerstones of American literature and music: Walt Whitman, Allen Ginsberg, Tennessee Williams, Sylvia Plath, T.S. Eliot, Bruce Springsteen, Elvis Presley, Joni Mitchell, not to mention covers of songs such as Blue Velvet, Summer Wine, Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood and Chelsea Hotel No°2. Lana has taken a bygone aesthetic - that of 1950s’ USA - and made it her own, enacting it with the grace of poetry.

Think of Lolita – Nabokov’s novel – which, like herself, has often been misunderstood, accused of romanticizing abusive relationships. It is almost impossible to think of Lana Del Rey without certain literary references coming to mind, or other iconic images such as Marilyn singing Happy Birthday to JFK, Jackie O’ and her pink Chanel suit. And these images live together with the California of the early 1970s, with “jazz singers” and “cult leaders” (Charles Manson and the family), with life “on the road”, being on a Harley Davidsons with your cheeks resting on the leather vest of much older man, with half-empty motels in the middle of the desert and abandoned gasoline stations.

It’s impossible not to think of her religious references too: Tropico, the 2016 short movie, the blue veil over her long dark hair and her hands clasped in prayer. Lana’s world is made up of her passions, of aesthetics that speak to her, of "handmade nostalgia". Quotes and references are never an end in themselves, but serve to create atmospheres, to evoke feelings. Lana tells stories, sometimes even her own, with extreme sincerity and vulnerability, a perhaps unconscious courage that we could call authentic: she cannot and does not want to do otherwise.

Lana has created a world for herself and has nurtured the worlds of others. Think of a novel like The Girls, by Emma Cline, and a song like Freak; think of the many artists inspired by her, who are already collecting her legacy. Laila Al Habash and Maria Antoinetta themselves - who opened the concert and were wonderful, telling stories and building worlds - reaffirmed the importance of an artist like her for the contemporary scene. It’s also impossible to think of Lana without thinking about the era of Tumblr, when it was still popular among the younger generation and full of photos of her: Lana in front of the American flag with honey-brown hair winking at the camera, Lana in her red Ferrari jacket. It’s impossible not to think of the hours spent sharing her photos and videos, trying to recreate her aesthetic. It is impossible not to think back to the time when you first discovered her, Lana.

There’s still light, but not for long. We look at the big screens. A sign reads: “YOU DID MORE FOR ME THAN MY THERAPIST”. The girl we befriended smiles. We ask her if she remembers the first time she heard Lana. She recounts that it was the summer of 2012, that she was on holiday at her grandmother’s country house. ‹‹There was nothing to do,›› she says, ‹‹Me and my cousin used to spend the days sitting on the lawn talking, drawing, and listening to Born To Die. He made me discover it.›› She smiles: ‹‹We were sixteen. I listened to Summertime Sadness crying every night because my boyfriend had moved out. We were living on Tumblr››. She takes a sip of her beer: ‹‹It's been ten years and we still write to each other sometimes heaven is a place on earth with you.››

A Motel Room of One’s Own

Throughout the concert, Lana is accompanied by the band, a corps of dancers, and her three backup singers. As she performs her most famous songs - Young and Beautiful, Ride, Born to Die, Blue Jeans, Summertime Sadness and Video Games - the crowd overwhelms her voice.

On the songs that are less well known to the general public, such as the newer ones from her latest Did You Know That There’s a Tunnel Under Ocean Boulevard, the crowd calms down and Lana’s vocal performance comes out strong and mature. Long gone are the days when she was harshly criticized for her musical inaccuracies resulting from a seemingly uncontrollable anxiety.

In Lana’s early days, the American and European media portrayed her as the result of a Frankensteinian operation between the stereotype of a movie diva and a 1940s torch singer. In a 2014 interview with The Guardian, the singer, often accused of a kind of ingratitude towards life because of the recognisable sadness that still characterizes her music, confessed: ‹‹I was hoping I was already dead››. That same year, upon the publication of her most controversial work, Ultraviolence, she was torn to shreds by critics for “glorifying” domestic violence.

Reality or fiction? In this case, the search for an answer is less interesting than the question itself. In fact, Lana has often hovered on the liminal specter of autofiction, and it is only recently that she has begun to indulge to the practice of ruthless autobiography.

In the first half of the concert, Lana sings The Grants, a single from her latest album in which talks about the fear of losing family members. It is a eulogy to emotional memory: she mentions the birth of her niece, her grandmother’s last words - in short, what she intends to take away with her when her time comes.

When she sings an intimate version of the title track from Ocean Blvd, the question is reversed and becomes an invitation to her audience: ‹‹Don’t forget me.›› Thousands of arms raise their mobile phones, their flashes on. But the truth is, it is hard to forget an artist who has irrevocably changed the course of pop music by narcotising it; before her arrival, pop music was dominated by the obsessive and sweetened rhythms of the early 2000s.To paraphrase a passage from her own song, even today, here on stage in front of thousands of people, there is a girl locked in a motel room, humming. If you have found the entrance to this hidden world, don’t leave it.

[wahlpaper]

Love at First Set

CW: Heavy Drinking, Alcoholism, Addiction, Gaslighting and Gaslighting Attempts, Manipulative Parents, Child Abuse, Mentioned Physical Abuse, Mentioned Toxic Relationship and Love Bombing, Money Problems, Classism, Queerphobia, Cheating, Breach of Trust, Sexual Content, Swearing

4.5/5

I don't think I read the description for Jennifer Dugan's Love at First Set until it was my turn with it on Libby. I saw the author and the cover and decided to check it out. What was written for the blurb wasn't wrong, exactly, but the tone was misleading, making it seem toxic. I wouldn't describe the romance as toxic, even if the characters and scenes get messy. I'm glad I read the book in spite of my worries. It was entertaining, handled some heavy topics with grace, and made me care a lot for the three main characters. 

Lizzie has been dreaming of running her own gym since she was a little girl. In the meantime, she's been working as a front desk manager at the gym her best friend's, James, parents own. When James' sister, Cara, is getting married, he convinces Lizzie to come along. He sees it as a chance for her to schmooze and get a promotion. Unfortunately, Lizzie ends up drunkenly pepping up a hot girl in the bathroom, telling her to leave her unhappy relationship. She didn't know this was Cara. Familial chaos ensues. Over the next few months, Lizzie and Cara get to know each other. They may even be catching feelings. 

Love at First Set was a surprisingly easy book to get through. Both Cara and Lizzie have awful parents, which is an important part of the story. They also had a really hard time opening up to each other, not just assuming the worst about one another, but themselves too. There were also a number of described sex scenes, which are almost never my thing. However, I was captivated the whole way through. Lizzie is incredibly self-aware and has an active inner voice. Anything that could have been taken too far was balanced out by Lizzie's reactions. There were times I would get fed up with any of the main trio, but I could trust that they'd work it out in a healthy way.

As with any Dugan novel, Love at First Set has plenty of queer rep in it. James is gay and Lizzie and Cara are bi. There are a few queer supporting characters and even more background ones. I can tell the characters aren't genre-aware, or else the classic Sapphic movie, Imagine Me & You, would absolutely have been brought up. However, the characters, especially Cara, are cliche-aware. At one point she mentions Uhal Lesbians. The main trio is also aware that it's weird that their abusive parents aren't queerphobic. Overall, this book could easily be just another queer book, and it may not be a contender for my favorite book this year, but it found ways to stand out.

If you're into books about queer sports, I recommend broadening your horizons out of the competitive ones. A majority of this book takes place in a gym, something I've never seen in a queer sports story. If you're into the best-friend's-sibling trope, Love at First Set by Jennifer Dugan is absolutely for you. If you're done lifting weights, lift this book. Don't worry, Lizzie will spot you!

[deadendtracks]

I don't see this asked yet so brutal honest opinion about Tommy/Lizzie

ohhhhh okay i actually haven't written as much about Tommy/Lizzie as the other major ships!

I feel like fandom in general is much more clear-eyed about Tommy/Lizzie than the other ships, even when I disagree with some of the takes on it. There isn't much of the sort of starry-eyed determinedly ignoring their problems in favor of some kind of romance novel trope, because the show doesn't let you. Though there still are a lot of tropes. But those tropes are forced to acknowledge some of the reality at least.

I also think this is the one relationship where Tommy is rightly pinned with most of the responsibility for the difficulties. So again, I don't have anything to argue with there except for some of the specific interpretations of that general point.

It's hard to be more brutally honest about this ship than the show is!

But to make some points beyond those that fandom tends to make about them:

Lizzie isn't a helpless wallflower in this relationship, waiting to be rescued from it. And Tommy isn't a villain who just needs to realize his real love for her and therefore become a man worthy of her.

I think when it started (beyond the time he was explicitly paying her), it was mostly about sex. But from things Lizzie has said, I think this became more than just the idea of Tommy using her physically as an outlet.

I think they had genuine sexual compatibility on both sides, and the sex was really good for both of them. Lizzie makes that point in both s5 and s6, and that's a point I think it's important not to overlook for someone who tells Linda that at one point she was fucking seven men a day for money and survival. Tommy gets her off, makes her feel good physically, and that's important! So to reduce this as just 'oh she's just Tommy's fucktoy/physical outlet' is to disparage something that was important to Lizzie herself.

By the time Lizzie is making an active decision about whether to stay with Tommy or divorce him, she's not just weighing her heart against her head -- factoring in the financial stability being married to him gives her -- but it's also about the fact they have great sex, even when they're in a terrible place in their marriage. This isn't a remotely shallow thing!

Um, I have way too much to say and this has already gotten long so I'll stop here with this one point I feel is overlooked, and when I have time I will make sure to post more about them because I've neglected them compared to Grace/Tommy.

[wildhecrt]

don't blame it on me- independent & private multimuse loved by k. pst. 21+ only. mutuals only. iconless. i'm here in and out, reserve the right to block whomever i want, and oftentimes get brainrot for one muse over another. i'm just here to have fun. at the end of the day, really. <3 blame it on my wild heart.

muses under the cut; all are mostly headcanon based. nancy wheeler from stranger things star from the lost boys

spooky szn muses:

marnie cromwell - halloweentown series sally - nightmare before christmas barbara maitland - beetlejuice lydia deetz - beetlejuice (note: not seeing the new film until tba) allison watts - hocus pocus sarah sanderson - hocus pocus morticia addams - the addams family (films, series, and "wednesday" based) emily - corpse bride

MUSES (* = test muse ** = request only)

television:

glee - quinn fabray gossip girl - blair waldorf gilmore girls - lorelai "rory" gilmore (starts at S4) gilmore girls - lorelai gilmore* sons of anarchy - tara knowles (note: i ignore past S5) riverdale - elizabeth "betty" cooper (mostly headcanon based) stranger things - maxine "max" mayfield daisy jones and the six - margaret "daisy" jones (mixed media) boy meets world - topanga lawrence* lizzie mcguire revival - elizabeth "lizzie" mcguire** this is us - rebecca pearson so weird - fiona "fi" phillips**

film:

clueless - cher horowitz the breakfast club - claire standish ready or not? - grace le domas the labyrinth - sarah williams beauty and the beast - belle dirty dancing - francis "baby" houseman twilight - rosalie hale fear street 1994 - samantha "sam" fraser repo! the genetic opera - shilo wallace scream - sidney prescott harry potter series (film and novel) - hermione granger star wars - leia organa**

misc: harry potter series - narcissa black harry potter series - lily evans seven husbands of evelyn hugo - celia st. james* wicked - elphaba thropp

[hollymbryan]

Blog Tour: Top 5 Reasons to Read HATCHET GIRLS by Diana Rodriguez Wallach!

Welcome to Book_Keeping and my stop on the TBR and Beyond Tours blog tour for Hatchet Girls by Diana Rodriguez Wallach, which released this past Tuesday, 10 October! I've got all the details on this deliciously creepy nod to the story of Lizzie Borden, along with my top 5 reasons to read, below!

About the Book

title: Hatchet Girls author: Diana Rodriguez Wallach publisher: Delacorte Press release date: 10 October 2023

For fans of Kara Thomas and Courtney Summers comes a supernatural horror that reminds us family can be our saving grace–or our biggest curse. Set one-hundred years after the Borden murders, this propulsive thriller imagines what a similar trial might look like today. When the parents of the richest family in Fall River are found murdered by axe, the town is quick to blame newcomer Vik. It doesn’t help that he was caught standing over the bodies with blood on his hands and can’t remember anything about the night in question. But Vik’s sister, Tessa, knows that Vik would never be capable of such a gruesome crime. Haunted by the mistakes she made that led her family to Fall River in the first place, she sets out to prove her brother’s innocence. Her search for answers will lead her into a sprawling, supposedly cursed forest, as well as the childhood home of Lizzie Borden—the original axe murderess of Fall River. Content Warning: Violence, mentions of murder, blood, grief, abuse

Add to Goodreads: Hatchet Girls Purchase the Book: Amazon | B&N | Bookshop.org

About the Author

Diana Rodriguez Wallach is a multi-published author of young adult novels. Her most recent, Small Town Monsters, is a YA Latinx horror novel that published in September 2021 through Random House’s Underlined imprint. Her next YA horror, Hatchet Girls, will publish in hardback in Fall 2023 through Random House’s Delacorte imprint. Additionally, Diana is the author of the Anastasia Phoenix Series (Entangled Publishing), a trilogy of young adult spy thrillers. The first book in the series, Proof of Lies, has been optioned for film and was chosen as a finalist for the 2018 International Thriller Awards for Best Young Adult Novel. Additionally, Bustle listed her as one of the “Top Nine Latinx Authors to Read for Women’s History Month 2017,” and Paste named Proof of Lies one of the “Top 10 Best Young Adult Books for March 2017.” Diana is also the author of three YA contemporary Latina novels: Amor and Summer Secrets, Amigas and School Scandals, and Adios to All The Drama (Kensington Books). Amor and Summer Secrets placed second at the 2009 International Latino Book Awards for Best Young Adult Novel. She also penned a YA short-story collection entitled Mirror, Mirror (Buzz Books, 2013).

Connect with Diana: Website | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Facebook

Top 5 Reasons to Read

I have been a fan of Diana Rodriguez Wallach since I read the first of her Anastasia Phoenix trilogy, Proof of Lies, back when it was released in 2017. I was on a tour for it and then did the next two books as well. (If you like YA thrillers, you should absolutely check it out, it's so good!) So I was excited to hear about Hatchet Girls coming out and had high hopes for it -- which were more than met! Here are my top reasons to read this deliciously creepy novel!

I love a good YA horror, and Hatchet Girls more than fits the bill! It is creepy and gory and horrific without being *too* over the top, great for folks who might not like more extreme/adult horror.

I love how the story takes inspiration from and pays homage to the Lizzie Borden story, updating it for the modern day and including supernatural elements.

Diana honors the bloody history of the area in which the book takes place, the Bridgewater Triangle, by including actual facts about that history and incorporating it into the supernatural forces at work in the story.

The book asks the question, which I am still pondering, of whether a place's bloody history can infect and curse the land itself, and/or whether land can be infected and cursed and thus lead to continual acts of violence perpetrated there.

This might seem weird, but the author's note about her own experience while researching the novel just sealed the deal for how much I loved it! You'll see when you read it -- I actually got chills!

I love doing these top reasons to read posts, but once again find myself wanting to rate the book even though this isn't a traditional review, because you have to know this is a five star read for me! I hope every fan of YA (and adult!) horror will pick this one up. Make sure you read the historical facts section and author's note at the end to enrich the reading experience.

Thank you to Delacorte Press for the finished copy, and to TBR and Beyond Tours for having me on the tour today!

Make sure to check out the Bookstagram tour as well! You can find my post here, and the full schedule is here.

[the-letter-horror-lover]

The boy cursed, stumbling as I darted from behind the drapes. He released Lizzie's hand, and I grabbed it.

"Lizzie, it's me!"

She met my gaze, but her cloudy eyes were distant, like the light of the sun that had long set. I let go off her hand.

"What the hell did you do to her?" I brandished my parasol like a weapon, the sharp tip pointed at the boy's neck.

He laughed, unfazed. "Your favorite detective would be quite disappointed you didn't figure it out yet. Aren't you the queen's bitch?"

A blinding rage swept through me like a wildfire, and I flung open the parasol all the way. The sleek compartment I had fashioned at the tip gave way, and a black powdery haze swarmed the boy's face. A sharp yell, and the boy staggered backwards, clutching his eyes. The ring clattered to the ground, and I snatched it.

"What the devil is this?" he growled.

"Pepper powder. Of a Brazilian variety that's particularly harsh." My lips twitched. "My butler would not settle for anything less than premium quality."

The boy flung his arm at the sound of my voice. I swerved to my right, narrowly missing his blow. The trappings of silk, satin and layers of crinoline hindered my movements. My hips pressed into the balustrade. The boy aimed again, his hands not curled into fists but open. Wanting to capture. His fingertips curled like an animal.

Recklessly, blindly, he swiped at the air, and a blow hit my torso. I sucked in a breath. The world shifted under my feet. The ring fell over the balcony before I did. A soundless scream in my throat, and I clung to the balustrade with both hands, gripping it so tightly that the finger bones jutted out from my skin. I looked below me and wished I hadn't. The dizzying height made my head swim. Sharply, I faced the ledge and saw my stark-white knuckles. My slipping fingers.

"Help me, please help." I hardly recognized my own voice. Desperate, terrified. The same cry from a small child I'd once known.

"Please, someone—" The cold stone left my hands, and I was falling, falling. Plunging into the shadows of the night.

I braced myself, every muscle tightening like a compressed spring. The movement stopped. Instead of the frozen ground, I was pressed against something solidly warm.

"You can open your eyes."

Sebastian held my gaze, hell-fire quietly burning in his. A moon ring, a silvery halo, floated above his head. He breathed deeply, his face paler than usual. Milk-white. Waxy.

"Do you ever tire of playing the damsel in distress, mistress?"

"It is your job to protect me. I will not tolerate insolence. Where's the ring?"

"On my personage for now," he said, his voice a little too coarse.

"Where's Lizzie?"

"Undoubtedly with your cipherist."

"Why didn't you do anything, you clod?"

The butler turned his head sharply. "If I am only able to rescue one, you or another, which do you think I will pick?"

"I mean, why didn't you bloody do anything before?"

"You did not order me. Besides, I thought it might be entertaining to see how that pepper powder you ridiculously ordered me to bring would fare. It did not work too well, did it?"

I narrowed my eyes. The creature's mood seemed more volatile.

"Make yourself useful and find them." I wriggled out of his grasp and peered down the balcony. The dizzying drop. Unless the trio had sprouted wings, they couldn't have escaped that way, which meant...

"They escaped through the ballroom." I frowned. "I don't understand. How did the cipherist and Lizzie manage to even gain entry? Every entrance was being watched."

"An inside job perhaps." Sebastian's eyes vibrated back and forth across the ballroom. His gestures were less graceful than usual. "Secret doors, secret passageways. Like in those mystery novels you peruse."

The thought simmered. An inside job... if that were the case, that could only mean the ballroom contained the secret entry. And Lizzie, Angelica, and Alice might still be there right now. I snatched the curtain aside and turned back inside. A firm grasp on my wrist.

"Your hand," Sebastian said severely.

"Just a scratch."

"Show me."

"It's fine. Leave it."

His eyes raked over me. "I said show me."

Something was wrong. His voice, his mannerisms. Him.

“Sebastian, what's the matter with—"

The butler grabbed my hand and inspected the cut. A trail of crimson on my finger. His eyes took on an strange glow in the moonlight.

"W-what are you doing?"

He said nothing, only smeared the drop until it stained the white of his glove. He rubbed two fingers together and admired the rich colour, like a Master Painter who had finally created his desired hue. A crushed pomegranate seed. The rose lips of a maiden, bitten raw. His hand slipped to my wrist and he held it up, bringing the digit to his lips. A lick.

"Y-you beast."

"And the sky is blue. And I am named after a dog. And you are an inbred degenerate princessling who desires to sleep with her most dangerous weapon."

I slapped him hard.

He blinked sharply, nostrils flared. He pinned my hands high above my head and firmly covered them with his. "Where are your manners? I recall teaching you better than that—" A low moan left his throat. The same sound his made after saving me from the fall on Campania. The butler took a few steps back. He sharply bent his head, concealing his face and his body convulsed. "Young mistress..."

"Damn it Sebastian, what's wrong?" I shook him by the shoulders. "Sebastian!"

The butler fell silent. Slowly, he looked up, and my breath caught.

His eyes had transformed to smoky hell-fire, cavernous, ensnaring me in a perverse gaze. Fangs protruded over the thin, curved lips. His facial features were contorted, sharpened. Protruding cheek bones, taut lips, a beast of a man. No, never a man. Only a husk of false one.

Mirthless laughter filled the air, and I flinched backwards. “Don’t be scared, young mistress It is only I.” The creature's soft, unearthly voice sent a shudder down my spine. He stepped forth, his eyes dark and hooded, a melodic grace to his movements.

His presence exuded a strange, phantasmagoric allure that was different than the other times I had caught glimpses of his true form. No, not different. Wrong. It was all wrong. He was wrong.

Instinctually, I took a step back until my hips pressed against the balcony railing. My hands tensely clutched onto the edge of the balcony. “Stay away from me,” I breathed.

“That’s a dangerous position, mistress.” His soft voice contrasted against the malevolent glint in his eyes. The air around him thickened, thrumming with something predatorial as he stalked forwards. He loomed over me, scant inches away from me, pinning me in place though we did not touch.

“What are you—” In the blink of an eye, his hands circled my waist and turned me sideways, away from the balustrade. The back of my head pressed against a cold, hard wall.

I took in a sharp breath. His taut abdomen pressed against mine, and a jolt of arousal pulsed through my veins. Every inch of my body became aware of his. Our forms molded together like a puzzle. Chest to chest, torso to torso, a swell against my leg.

I struggled for mastery of my voice. “I thought you were keeping your distance because of your condition.”

"Perhaps you should have thought of that before baiting me in the ballroom." Sebastian lowered his head to the crook of my exposed neck and inhaled it deeply. "You smell lovely." He inhaled again and hummed in my ear with a honeyed hiss. “Lady Grey, sweets, honeysuckle soap…and you.” His own scent wrapped around me. Raw and virile, wild as smoke, ancient as the stars.

“Your blood churns and roils through your veins with the most delightful scent. Growing ever more enticing through the years." His eyes raked over the expanse of skin under my neck, the hunger in his eyes rapidly intensifying. “Your essence is a contradiction, divinely sinful. Exhilarating." He ground his hips. "Your scent… the scent of your soul, of every black desire, permeates the air around you, growing more irresistible every day.”

"Do demons experience senility? It seems like the long years of your existence has finally addled your tongue."

"My tongue and its faculties have been more than maintained through the ages." He stroked my neck, under my chin to my collarbone. His curved mouth parted, and a glisten of fangs swallowed my vision. No longer a man, but a creature of the night, a monster from a fairytale. Carmilla would be a dove compared to this beast.

That mild-tempered smile, the finely arched brows lifting with amusement, the elegant fingers carefully pouring tea and gently combing my hair. All gone. Had all of it been a lie? Or the truth. A moon that only showed a few faces, but never the whole sphere.

"You wouldn't," I said. "I won't allow it."

"I wonder about that." The beast pressed soft lips against my neck. Then came the bite.

A sharp breath escaped me. I pressed into the wall as if it would swallow me up like quicksand.

"Cease this now." I struggled to keep my voice level. "Shall I order you?"

"If you can," he breathed against my lips before pressing against them.

I drowned in his devouring kiss. Burned by it, that absolute mutual possession. Intoxicated in it. Surrendering to it.

His gaze dropped to my panting mouth, then slid down. My stomach, my hips, lower. Something slithered around my ankles.

My eyes darted to my feet. Corporeal shadows cuffed them, extending from his tailcoat.

"You blasted thing." I tried to wriggled from their vicious grasp, but they only tightened more.

Another shadowy tendril crept into view. And another. The things encircled me from every direction until I was entangled in one mass of shadow. Wrapping around my legs, they pinned me in place, like a specimen under a microscope. One snuck into my dress and skittered along my inner thigh, a soft savage caress.

I pressed my knees together. "Please."

"Certainly," came the cruel voice.

Layers and layers of crinoline, and the vile things were not hindered in the least.

"That's not what I meant—"

The tendrils squeezed my wrists, painting cream colored skin with rosy red. They enveloped my arms and torso like vines, managing to find their way inside my bodice. Squeezing a breast. A swirl around a nipple. Another pair curled around the front of my bodice and pulled, exposing my bare skin to the winter air. In languid, circular movements the shadowy wisps played with the areola. A sharp tug, and I choked on my breath. They pulled on the chilled, erect nubs. Twisting them. They flushed raspberry-pink, rubbed raw.

I drew in a breath. "S-Sebastian, I demand you to st—" A tendril caressed my tongue and then squeezed it relentlessly.

"Mmnh."

"Another you say?" The demon's amused laughter reverberated within the shadowy mass.

One of the tendrils slithered against me and then inside. A sharp gasp left my lips. I squeezed my thighs together, feeling the moving tendril between my legs. Slinking in and out. In and out. The delicious burn. Thrilling and repulsive.

"No...enough," I gasped.

"Not enough? I quite agree."

A prod below my tailbone and then lower, and my cheeks burned, realizing the beast's depraved intention. A strangled noise escaped me as the thing slipped between.

No more.

The beast had lost control, and I was in its infernal mercy now.

The creature coordinated the tendrils' movements like a fervent conductor. In tandem they slithered over me, against me, inside me. I shuddered. The abominable things assaulted me from every entry in a sinful rhythm, slipping in as far as they could go, then pulled out entirely. Together. Alternating between aching fullness and bitter emptiness.

And then came the inevitable release. I cried out his name, and a storm of tendrils raced around me. A world of darkness except for the bright slitted eyes in front of me. Hot breath on my parted lips, the air from within sucking away at something immaterial. Like the sea-witch pulling the naive mermaid's voice after the girl had signed the witch's fraud contract, all for an immortal soul and love.

"Are you going to break our contract?" I whispered.

The slitted eyes closed and the shadows around it undulated. Almost as if the creature was straining its face. As though it was waging an internal battle and for the first time, losing. The shadows swept away in the middle, like dark clouds unveiling the moon, and his face was before mine, the human mask I had foolishly considered to be true.

His dark penetrating stare dropped to my parted lips, as though deciding to give in to the demands of his current form. Suddenly, he stared hard at my hands. They were curled forcefully against his chest, distancing myself from him, yet digging into the fabric, unable to let go.

The beast swore under his breath, words inhuman and foreign, a strange unholy language from another realm. He stepped back abruptly, wrenching my hands away. One hard glance behind him, and he vanished into the night. Gone. As though everything had been nothing but a bad dream. Leaving me colder than ever.

I crouched to the ground and wrapped my arms around myself, my body tingling everywhere he had touched me. Until now, I had only caught glimpses of his carnal side but nothing quite like this. His ravenous countenance, his predatorial gaze, his unsettling words...those wicked lips nearly betraying our contract through Judas's kiss. But the most disturbing of all was how I revelled in the intoxicating scent still clinging to my skin.

Notes:

Tendrils doing Bad Things was NOT supposed to happen but when your characters derail your outline... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And giving credit where credit is due, a part of the dialogue from the smut scene was partly inspired by an old fic by Pearypie (nina_eden). Her sebaciel banter is delicious wicked and her writing style, just plain gorgeous. And a thank you to seekers-who-are-lovers for beta-reading and catching my notorious typos XD Anywayz, thank you so much for reading along! Since the characters are going more off script, let me know if there's something you'd like to see and who knows....it might make an appearance ;)

Chapter 22: Under the Stars

Notes:

Would you look at that, a new chapter two weeks after the last update. Well, this hasn't happened before... Enjoy the Halloween treat you lovely gremlins ;)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

After hours of tossing and turning, I gave up on sleep. From within the thick wool blanket, I stared at a tree branch perched outside my window; it shivered from an invisible wind. A streak of black zipped by the branch. In the blink of an eye, it was gone, the only trace the rustling leaves. A bat, no doubt. Probably returning back from its night of nocturnal escapades. This wasn’t helping my mood in the slightest. Cerulean skies started to lighten, heralding dawn. I sat upright in bed.

With a soft creak, I opened my door and crept through the dim hallway, lamp in hand. Light snores sounded from inside the dormitories I passed by. The whole academy was cloaked in stillness except for the quiet shuffling of footsteps along the corridors. I drew open the double French doors and entered the music room.

The space reverberated with my presence, echoing with each step. Many times I had been here, yet the music room seemed unfamiliar in the blue shadows. Wisps of dawn light spilled through the stained glass windows and showered over the dark interiors, encasing the hall in an ethereal glow. A beam of kaleidoscopic colors danced upon a gilded Beckstein grand. I traced a finger across the sleek surface. Black as a starless night, but gleaming with invitation.

I rested the lamp atop the piano. My hands hovered above the keys, and it was almost as if a magnetic attraction pulled my fingers to the piano. The black and white keys beckoned me temptingly, yearning to be touched. I obliged them. I seated myself and played Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. I flowed to the notes, kneading the keys in slow, fluid movements. I closed my eyes, but only to see a pair of other ones.

I pressed down on the keys harder, and the pensive sonata changed into another song. The notes trembled under my touch, alternating from quiet pianissimos to fortes. I fused with the piano, the keys pouring out my frustration, confusion, and ardor. Closing my eyes, I swayed to the rhythm, an undercurrent of overwrought energy. Cerulean strands came loose and clung to my wet cheeks. The music swelled with staccatos, legatos, and fortissimos.

Another melody infused itself into the mix. My body jerked and my finger tripped over a flat.

Sharply, I glanced beside me but only to be drowned by the very eyes I'd conjured up moments ago. My breath stilled. Him.

Dark lashes fanning out, Sebastian gracefully played. His skillful fingers glided across the keys like a phantom. He played gently, a lilting cadence that colored the air, ensnaring like a wanton siren's song. The piano hummed. Unearthly, velvety, and bittersweet. I lowered my head and resumed my own playing. It was a strange duet as the two melodies intermingled and danced with each other. My notes were effervescent and brisk and while his were smooth and potent. The tune shifted and his notes took on a sensual timbre. It sang. It whispered. It cried out. It shivered under his touch. I shivered.

My breath came in fast rhythms, rising and falling like the tides. He appeared equally affected. His playing grew more poignant. His fingers pressed harder on the keys. His shoulders swayed and rocked to the tempest. Our playing harmonized together, the notes bridging, entangling. Coalescing as one.

The pace hastened, ascending. The piano bellowed with increasing force, a vessel that cried out the secrets held tight in our mouths, things that could not be uttered in the day. The music swirled around us, rippling like a tempestuous sea, as we played with abandon. Our fingers moved nimbly and fervidly, building up to the crescendo. A flicker of movement and suddenly his arms encompassed mine, both our fingers still playing. His breath stirred the nape of my neck, hot as an Indian summer. His leg grazed mine as he stepped on the damper. Wistful, heady sounds saturated the air; unspoken desire, ache, contrition. He drew back to his side of the bench.

We neared the peak of the crescendo and struck the loudest chord. Coming apart from the instrument, we both stopped playing. An indefinable silence filled the air as we regained our breaths. It seemed as if time itself had come to a still, stretching out every second between us. Our eyes locked, and slowly, some unspoken clarity settled between us.

Recomposing himself, Sebastian placed his both hands beside mine. I positioned my fingers back on the keys. We played the finale together, the notes softly breathing as one.

"Well done," he said. "You finally figured out the assignment. Full marks."

“What are you doing here?” I whispered.

“I couldn’t leave you, young mistress. In fact, I never did."

He turned sideways, his knees bumping mine, and I leaned away to the edge of the bench. A measurable distance. Sebastian’s forehead creased.

"May I have a word with you, young mistress?"

“That depends." I averted my eyes from him and made my voice terse. “Have you come to break the contract?”

“No,” he said quietly.

"Really." My vision narrowed. "How can I trust you?"

“A sound question. I suppose the truth is that you cannot, but my admittance of that is a token of honesty."

I glowered.

"Am I permitted to speak with you now?”

“If you can even say anything worthwhile now...”

Sebastian's face strained. "I must apologize for my earlier demeanor."

I let out a hollow laugh. "What good is your apology when you can easily break the contract again?"

"We would not be sitting here if I broke it."

"Don't be stupid. If not today, then tomorrow. Or the next day. Let us not pretend your aesthetics are notable. Your control is feeble as a twig."

The butler's lips tightened. "You are right. It is because something within you has changed. And I along with it."

"What is it like to you?" I fumbled for the right words, unsure of what to ask. "The flavour of my soul. My essence." Me.

He blinked. “I fail to see how that matters—”

“It matters,” I said suddenly. “At least to me, it does.”

"Very well." Sebastian sighed and straightened his tie. “I shall endeavor to explain it in the best way you can understand it. Think of an essence as a blend of flavors. Distinct for every person, some more multicolored and diverse than others. No two essences can ever truly be the same. Yours in particular has a sharp flavor of shrewdness, a cooling taste of intellect, a paradoxical blend of deviousness and purity. An innocence sweet as the infant spring and beautiful as summer fruits, easy to corrupt and that which cannot last. A coy brazenness like milk-white thorns hidden under the blooms. And desire that is burnt bitter, an aftertaste of sin and…" His eyes glittered dark, stars in midnight waters. "Many other things I find inexorably enticing."

"That's quite poetic." I swallowed hard. He had never been this candid before.

"I find poetry the best means to describe such things in human terms. Is that all?"

“Yes...no. What does...it feel like though? To crave my soul?”

“Think of a starving person in front of the most sumptuous dishes laid before him. Will he eat slowly and calmly? Or shall he feast vigorously, without any restraint? Hunger is one thing. Starvation is another. A pitiless, devouring flame. It can make any creature do things they would never do. Take Bardroy who almost feasted in the battle ground had I not come upon him. ”

“Then why don’t you eat someone?”

His brow twitched. “Young mistress, contrary to what you may think of me, I'm not a beast in that regard.” Sighing, he leaned across me.

I jumped out of his reach. It was only then I realized he was reaching for the lamp on the piano.

“For goodness sake, young mistress, I won’t bite.”

"So you say."

"I can hear footsteps in the corridor."

I started. "We can't be caught.”

“Au contraire," said Sebastian. “We will not be caught. I am simply a teacher offering his most hapless student tutoring." He ignored my scowl. "However, you’d best return to your dormitory. You could do with a few hours of slumber. After all, I expect you must be weary after not getting a wink of sleep the entire night.”

“And how exactly do you know that?”

“It is not the time to be concerned over such trifles.” He briskly drew open a large stained glass window, then turned. He held out his gloved hand to me.

“Do you wish to come with me?”

Several moments of silence and then, "yes..." I took his hand and asked irately, "Must you really ask?"

A quick pull, and his arms were under my legs. He leapt off the windowsill with me in tow. I let him carry me outside, and the butler glided effortlessly through the branches, just like the watchful bat that perched itself across my window. Wisps of cerulean hair flew backwards from the wind, entangling in black locks. Sebastian's face was inches from mine. I couldn’t tell if it was my imagination or not that he held me closer. We passed by more snowy trees and Sebastian paused.

"What is it?" My breath clouded his face.

"The stars are looking exceptionally beautiful tonight."

"I did not think a demon would care about the cosmos."

"The cosmos births all," he murmured in my ear, whisperings of a sea-shell. "The origin of white and dark matter. Good and evil. Yin and yang."

"Then what are you? I take it you're nothing good."

"Touché."

"Hmpf." I turned away from him and a new, curious thought began to take hold. "The devil was once an angel..."

"One could argue that all evil was a perversion of something that was once good."

"I do not care for a lesson in philosophy." Sighing, I gazed at the nearing dawn skies and pointed to two flickering stars next to each other. "Altair and Vega. I came across them in an astronomy book. Vega and Altair fell in love but were forbidden to be together." My eyelids grew heavy. "The river of the Milky Way separates the two stars, but Altair crosses it once a year in hopes to meet his beloved."

"I never knew the young mistress to be a hopeless romantic."

"I'm not." It came out almost defensively. I cleared my throat. "It's just a fanciful myth."

"Indeed. I wonder if that star has a fanciful tale as well." The butler pointed to the brightest star.

I leaned to the side and found my head resting on his shoulder. The strangeness of it. Safe with the wolf for this fleeting moment. I wanted to hold it longer.

"It's Regulus. Appropriately named since it's a star of regality. It resides in Leo, one of the constellations in the zodiac—" I stared at the skies. A truth had loosened, and the collecting snowflakes of thoughts now tumbled like an avalanche.

"That's it," I whispered to myself. The answer is in the stars.

Sebastian frowned. "You look like you've seen the head of Medusa."

I grasped the lapels of his robe. "Go back," I ordered. "To the dormitory. It's an order." My contracted eye burned.

Sebastian nodded quietly and his eyes glowed like moonbeams, understanding dawning. "Of course."

In the dormitory, I yanked open the nightstand drawer and pulled out the copy of the student records Delacourt had given earlier.

Sebastian picked the astronomy book on the side. "Will you be needing this? Or do you know it from memory...?"

"Of course, I need it. What are the dates for Aries?"

The pages flipped vigorously until— "Here. Aries—March 21st to April 20th."

"One of the girls' birthday falls in this time frame." I scrawled the word 'Aries' next to the girl's name on a scratch paper. "Dates for Taurus and Gemini?"

"April 20th to May 20th for Taurus," he replied. "Gemini—May 21st to June 21st."

I tallied the connections. "One girl is a Taurus. And the other is a Gemini. No repeats."

"The next set is Cancer from June 21st to July 22nd, Leo from July 23rd to August 22nd, and Virgo, August 23rd to September 22nd." He paused. "Any duplicates?"

I controlled my anticipation. "No."

Like this we went through the rest of the zodiac signs. I tallied up the months and stared at the paper. "That's it. The pattern. Each girl was of a particular zodiac sign, and there are no repeats. Eleven missing girls from eleven distinct zodiac signs."

Sebastian skimmed the dates. "That means there is only one zodiac sign remaining to complete the twelve signs." His voice darkened like a Yule midnight. "Sagittarius. Inevitably the final target."

"And the full moon is tonight which means, they'll strike by then. We'll need the Vice Chancellor's assistance. Gather all the girls who fall under this sign and remove them from the chessboard. I'll leave that to you, professor."

Sebastian bowed. "Yes, young mistress."

I steepled my fingers under my chin. "The ends are finally coming together."

His eyes shone bright, expectant, like a hungry feline watching the preparation of a saucer of milk. "In that case, shall I begin casting the nets?"

Notes:

Ahh thank you for reading! There's only a few more chapters left and after much ado, the mystery cipherist —Mr 7-8-9-10-11-12 will finally be revealed in the next ch. For the mystery lovers out there, you have everything you need to solve this before Sebs and Cielle do. Hint: think of things that come in twelve; hintlings: see chapters 6, 9, 12, 19 for little clues sprinkled in...

Two-faced

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sebastian grew quiet, his eyes betraying a tinge of demonic glow.

My lips parted, but he placed a gloved finger against them, silencing them. “Someone is listening behind the door,” he whispered.

So the marauder was eavesdropping now, was he?

I considered the option of bolting open the door but...no. I'd play with him.

“Sebastian, I’m considering handing over this case to Scotland Yard.”

“Surely you jest, young mistress.”

“I wish I were. We only have one more day to save Lizzie and the other girls. And I fear I might be out of depths." My voice turned bitter. "I can’t help but think the Yard maybe prove to be more useful than me.” I silently picked up a notebook, jotted down my message, and handed it to him. Read these aloud.

Sebastian nodded, understanding.

I scribbled another message on the notebook and held out the page to him.

“And what happens of the ring?" The butler recited my question on the paper and added to it. "You did go through great lengths to retrieve during the ball, falling so haplessly from the balcony were it not for I.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I intend on safekeeping it elsewhere. It is clear hiding it on us is no longer the best means of keeping it hidden.”

“Then what do you propose?”

“We hid it in plain sight, well nearly so. Somewhere our watchful friend shall not dream of looking. Give me your hand, Sebastian.” I feigned a purposeful pause before continuing. “I want you to take this ring, and place it inside the headboard of the grand piano. Surely, no one will think of looking in such a place.” I held up the notebook once more.

“I shall do it right away, mistress.”

“Now that’s taken care of, perhaps some tea.”

"Of course." He prepared a cup with Lady Grey and finally handed it to me. “Whoever it was has taken their leave. Perhaps now you can explain the meaning behind your bluff.”

I concealed a smile behind the teacup. "Who said it was a bluff?”

“Sebastian, your hand. For real this time.”

He offered his palm and I dropped the ring into it. "Take this, and do exactly what we just told our eavesdropping friend.”

“Place it in the headboard of the grand piano?” A slender brow arched in skepticism.

“Precisely.”

He held up the ring and stared through blue until his eyes flashed. A ghost of a smile crept his lips. “I see my mistress is conniving as ever. I'm surprised you managed this by yourself.”

I raised my chin. "Hmpf, I delegated the task to Sullivan. I asked if she could do it before she was kidnapped. Found it in her room only after the ball, after you—" I cleared my throat, my face warm. "Well, see to it, will you."

"Yes, young mistress." Sebastian bowed halfway and paused. "Oh, before I forget." He went to my desk and from the unused bottommost drawer, collected a stack of papers.

What is that?"

"Nothing too important," he murmured. He slipped the papers into his coat pocket, and a few coins spilled from it. They clattered to the floor. "Forgive me, it is leftover change from the exhibition." He bent down to pick them up and left the coins beside my teacup.

I raised my brow, reaching for one of them. "A two-headed coin?"

"Apparently, it is rare but popular as of late. Commoners call it a ‘Grey.’

"I see." I frowned at the coin and returned my attention to the zodiacs signs written down. At least, the rest of the girls would be safe now.

Sebastian cleared the teapot away. "I shall return after I deposit the ring as requested."

Mm." I dismissed him and pulled out the stash of previous ciphers from the top drawer. Sipping my tea, I perused through them. Alone once more. Just me, my thoughts, and these bloody ciphers. I sighed.

I had unravelled all the ciphers but still had yet to unravel the meaning behind them. The words flitted through my mind. Alchemy. Stone of Lethe. Zodiac signs. A recurring twelve. How did it all connect?

Well, everything stemmed from one source. The cipherist. I frowned at his signature. Or rather signatures. 7-12 and 7-8-9-10-11-12 and 7891011 12.

They all ended with twelve. Twelve.

I put down the empty teacup. My thoughts swarmed, wildly as bewildered moths, and struck a chill in me. Twelve. The months. The connection clicked in my mind and brought the flurry to alarmingly sharp focus. The answer I'd been searching for was staring me right in the face.

A bitter laugh pierced the air, and I darkly eyed the Grey coin on the side. Two-faced. The prick.

So the numbers 7-8-9-10-11 and 12 corresponded to the twelve months and spelled out the culprit's name. July, August, September, October, November. And December.

I rose from my seat and exited my dorm.

"Cielle?"

Criminey, who now.

I turned behind me and paused. From a distance, Jane toweled off her hair, about to enter her dormitory.

"How are you feeling?" I tried to say politely.

"My food poisoning seems to be the most uneventful event of last night." Her eyes softened. "I heard what happened. Angelica and Alice didn't return to their dorms."

"I know. At least, I'm glad you're safe, Jane."

"Likewise. I couldn't bear if that had been you." She swallowed thickly. "Would you like to come in for a bit?"

I let the idea roll around in my head, then relented. "For just a bit I suppose." The case was nearing its end, but there were still too many unfinished things between us.

Jane pushed open the door. Some of the letters from Jane Jason Greyling appeared tarnished on the plate.

"You ought to fix that," I said.

"That shall be on my to-do list for tomorrow," she said with a sigh and locked the door behind her. "It's nice to have some small mundane to be concerned about. Well, here we are." Her room was less tidier than the last time I had been here. A heap of flasks scattered on the windowsill, ingredient lists strewn on her desk. The smell of a bunsen burner lingered in the air, mixing with a floral essence. Winter honeysuckle or daphne perhaps.

Jane looked at me sheepishly. "Some turn to eating during times of duress. Others to baking. I resort to perfume making."

"There are worse things one can do." I firmly shook the vermillion eyes away.

Jane seated herself beside me, her hand centimeters from mine. Her fingers, spindly and rose-tipped. I looked up at her, her lovely face which had all the beauty of artificial flowers. A subtle bruise marred the skin under her eye.

"Did you hurt yourself?" I pointed to my own eye.

"No. It must be the lack of sleep." A lie. "I'm sure whole academy is done up because of the disappearances."

"Jane," I said hesitantly. "I found out the cipherist's pattern. He's kidnapping girls based on zodiac signs."

She breathed out carefully. "Are you sure?"

I explained to her my findings. The zodiac signs, the alchemy book, the Stone of Lethe, all the clues pointing to twelve, and the girl's eyes widened.

"Well, now that you figured out the pattern, what will you do?"

"Nothing," I said, waving a dismissive hand. It bumped a vase on the bedside table and water spilt as it clattered to the floor. Droplets fell the hem of my dress, but Jane bore the brunt of the vase's assault, her long sleeve soaked with water.

"My apologies," I blustered.

Jane forced a laugh. "Am I doomed to getting drenched by vases? I recall your butler did the same thing upon their first meeting." She rolled up her wet sleeve and dabbed her arm with a blanket from the bed. "But don't you have until the full moon to save the girls? That's only a few hours away. Surely, there must be something else we can do. Who do you think is behind the abductions?"

"I have strong leads the mastermind is not an intruder, but rather someone inside the academy."

"An inside job?" said Jane. "What are you saying, it's one of the academy students?"

"It's not one of the girls here," I said quietly.

"A faculty or staff member, then?"

"No." I turned to Jane and gently reached for her. Her sea-green eyes deepened in colour as I ran my hand through her long strands. "It's quite beautiful," I whispered. "And feels remarkably soft."

"Cielle..." She cupped her hand over mine and leaned into the touch. Her eyes were almost closed. "Strange. We're in a dark snake's pit but there's still some light here. Moments to hold onto. Like this. I wish I could collect it like a souvenir in my pocket."

"May I give you a souvenir?" I looked at her through my lashes, looked at her apple-red lips.

"Please." Her sultry voice was low as the sea.

I leaned closer and my lips missed her mouth, instead grazing her ear. "For you."

Jane blinked at the cipher I had placed on her lap. She took in the recurring numerical signature. "Beg your pardon?"

"The culprit wasn’t a girl," I said softly and pointed to the rolled-up sleeve that confirmed my speculations. To the thick, coarse flaxen hair that didn't belong to a young lady.

The face before me transformed, sharpened. Wild eyes, a thorny smile. Poisonously beautiful as Carmilla.

I wrenched off the hairpiece, and the cipherist stood before me.

"I confess calling you 7-8-9-10-11-12 was getting tiring. At least I have a proper-like name you call you."

The boy's lips twitched. "Oh, do you?"

"I do not put much stock in the authenticity of your name," I said. "But to go through such lengths to put that name all over the place...well, it seems you must fancy that name. Jason." His name left my tongue, like a crack of a revolver.

"Took you long enough. Pray tell, did my middle name on the door plate assist you?"

"That helped the least. It was your ridiculous attention to the number twelve that gave you away." And a little Greyling coin. "Twelve months. The 7th month—July, the 8th month—August, the 9th month—September, then the same for October, November, and December. Take the first letter of each of those months, and you get the acronym 'JASOND'; I suppose the D is the initial of your last name."

"Very good," the boy said, clapping his hands in mockery. "I see those detective stories have paid off." A flicker of movement, and I was sprawled on the four-poster. He pinned my wrists above my head in one swift motion. His other hand held the blue ring to my face. "Would you like to join your cousin?"

"Go ahead," I said. "If you even can."

"Of course I can."

"You've had several chances before to do me in, yet you always hesitated. I wonder why that is."

Jane—Jason leaned in. "I was simply dragging out our game."

"Then why did you try to dispose the stone in the frozen pond? You were wavering then. And now. You could have done me in minutes ago, and you still haven't. I know the real answer behind it."

His forehead creased. "What are you talking about?"

"Jane may have been a false persona," I whispered, "but her reactions were quite true. Whenever she looked at me. Whenever we were alone. Her pupils were dilated, her face and palms were flushed—just like they currently are."

Jason tightened his grip on my wrists, the Stone of Lethe poised centimeters from my face.

"Do it," I said.

Jason stared hard, his eyes bright as a blazing star. He hovered over me until ocean blue swallowed my vision. "I won't waver anymore." His painted lips parted and pressed against mine. It was a searing kiss. Like I was cool well-water to his thirsty mouth. His face brushed my skin, his hair soft as summer peaches, but his tongue was hard and unrelenting. The contradictions seemed familiar—abhorrence and desire, sweet poison, a fallen angel.

"I confess I am not particularly fond of seeing my mistress being handled so familiarly."

Sebastian.

Notes:

Can you believe there's only a few more chapters left?! I'm trying to finish this story by the end of Dec (can you believe there's only 7 more weeks left in this yr hfdjkfhkdjg) Anyways, I make no promises but shall try ^^

As always, special thanks to E for beta-reading and catching my pesky typos <3