#shout out to Wuthering heights I also didn’t read her in school but I love her so much

[pinespittinink]

got thoughtful about opinions on bad books so here’s an inverse: what’s a book you had to read for school that you actually enjoyed/have grown to like? mine is Lord of the Flies

[fanficflaneuse]

One Day - Part 6

A/n (and disclaimer): Dear magical tumblr friends, I’m really moved by the great reception this series has had. It is my baby, my first series and also my way of  navigating through these trying times. I hold it dear to my heart and knowing you guys like it just makes me ten times happier. Thanks for all the love and support. 

Having said that, please don’t hate me for this chapter. It’s peak drama. It can’t get much worse than this (in this series, at least). It broke my heart a little, tbh, but it is important. There’s angst. Both Draco and Ernie behave like arseholes. A little bit of swearing...I’m crossing my fingers for you to like this. 

I have also have some news. Remember when I said on the last A/N that chapter 5 was the middle of the series? I lied a tiny bit. I had planned for 10 parts. Now we have 12 lol So this is the actual half of the series.

Dear anon who sent me that angsty / fluffy request, if you’re reading this, last night I came up with a very detailed story line which I’m really excited about. I’ll write that as soon as I finish all of this. 

This part includes a quote of Wuthering Heights by Emily Brönte. Also, one or two quotes come from the actual movie.  

Anyway, enjoy! 

Draco x reader (she/her pronouns) Word count: 2184  Summary: One day AU. Post-war. Since The Battle of Hogwarts, Draco and y/n meet one day a year.

Masterlist

3 May, 2003

(Y/N) sat in the farthest corner of an intimate muggle restaurant. She looked at her wristwatch for what had to be the twentieth time. Draco was two hours late. By now, (Y/N) figured she shouldn’t be surprised. What disconcerted her the most was the fact that she had waited for him. She was about to ask for the check and apparate back home when he waltzed into the restaurant. The man who (Y/N) saw approaching to her was not the sweet and very troubled friend she cuddled with, but rather the asshole that used to bully her and her friends back in school. He walked with his chest puffed, a cocky smile on his lips and an arrogant expression on his face. He was not her Dray, but rather Malfoy.

It took her no time to figure out he had been drinking. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, trying to disguise the hurt and disappointment she felt. He regarded her seriously for a minute. Draco hadn’t seen (Y/N) since that incident at the manor. They tried really hard to keep in touch. Draco’s life at the moment, though, didn’t allow for a lot of profound communication, mainly because he wasn’t honest, not even with himself. He’d drink every single day and party every other night. He’d wake up with strangers, squander his fortune in casinos and pick up stupid fights. Without fail, their owls would travel back and forth every week, but the letters sometimes mounted to absolutely nothing.

Seeing her in front of him, Draco found (Y/N) as beautiful as ever. He realized he was still in love with her, despite his efforts to drown his feelings for her – along with everything else. Perhaps, as contradictory as it sounds, the frustration he felt while having (Y/N) (Y/L/N) in front of him, made him behave like his old self. She was a symbol of everything he wanted and couldn’t have, of every bad thing he thought about himself, of how undeserving and inadequate he was. Much like when he was in school, all of that turned him into an absolute prick. 

Draco asked for a whiskey. As he did so, he checked the waitress out. (Y/N) scoffed.

“What?” he defended, as the redhaired waitress walked away, “she’s pretty for a muggle.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. He had changed so much in three years after the war…and now he made comments that took her back to her first few years at Hogwarts. (Y/N) wondered why had she accepted his invitation for dinner in the first place. What was she expecting, really? Her friend – if you could call him that at this point – was not there anymore. He was replaced with the insufferable git Draco Malfoy was meant to be all along.

“So,” he said, trying to diffuse the tension, “what’s new with you?”

(Y/N) didn’t feel much like speaking to him right now. She looked away. Draco was hurt by this, but he pressed on. He needed her confirmation that he was a tosser. He needed her to tell him that he was worthless, that she didn’t love him or believed in him. He needed that reminder because he wanted to kiss her so badly, but he knew he wasn’t good enough for her. He wasn’t good enough for her love or her forgiveness or faith. He wasn’t good enough for redemption. He was a villain. He had been, anyway. And people believed it. So, he had to play his part.

“Are you still with MacMillan?” he asked, trying to act nonchalant, as if the news of her relationship hadn’t affected him deeply.

As (Y/N) nodded, Draco’s whole body was filled with jealousy. He knew he couldn’t be with her. He knew she was better off with someone like Ernie MacMillan than himself.

And yet.

(The combination of those two words seemed to haunt him whenever (Y/N) was the topic).

“Even you can do better than that,” he spat.

He was being so nasty that his self-hatred was reaching dangerous levels. People believed this façade to be his true colours, even more than when he actually tried to reveal himself as he truly was. Why, then, wasn’t (Y/N) leaving? Why was she still sitting in front of him? Why would she look at him with those wounded eyes, with that broken heart, and yet keep giving him chances?

The waitress came back with their drinks. The brief interruption allowed (Y/N) to take a deep breath. She still didn’t know what she was doing there. Even if it was her love for him that glued her to the table, at this point he had already exceeded what was acceptable and even healthy. She was on the verge of tears.

“Why are you behaving like your idiotic Hogwarts self?” she asked.

“Speaking about Hogwarts, how’s the teaching?” he countered, completely ignoring her question.

(Y/N) sighed and for some reason decided tell him. Maybe that would shift the atmosphere a little. She told him that her approach to DADA tried to resemble professor Lupin’s: theory and practice in every single class. (Y/N) talked so passionately about her job and her students that it was hard for Draco not to hang onto her every word. For a second there, (Y/N) saw the ghost of a genuine smile playing on his lips. In that fleeting moment, she felt satisfied.

This feeling, of course, came crashing down with his scornful remark: “that’s good enough, I guess”.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she asked through gritted teeth. She wished he had just shrugged it off again, but he had an answer ready and he shot to kill.

“Well, (Y/N), you know what they say,” he said, not even meeting her eyes. His finger was playing with the rim of his empty glass.

“No, Draco, enlighten me. What do they say?” she asked, bracing herself for a scathing remark.

“Those who can, do; those who can’t, teach,” he answered offhandedly.

(Y/N) felt the anger scorching her insides. She glared at him, a fire in her eyes Draco hadn’t seen in the longest time. In that moment, all of her sadness fuelled her irritation as she stood up. The seat fell behind her.

“And she who can’t will hex you,” she stammered before stomping out of the restaurant.

Draco had finally pushed away the only person that believed in him. He thought he was going to feel a bit better, given that had sacrificed himself for her safety. She deserved better. Then why was he feeling so empty and stupid? Leaving more money than he had to on the table, he rushed after his best friend. Draco followed her to an alley where she was about to apparate. He grabbed her by her hand and noticed she was crying.

“What do you want, Draco? What else do you want?” her voice was hoarse and desperate.

“I – I’m sorry,” he murmured.

(Y/N) had to conjure all of her self control to answer to him. “I don’t know what’s the reason for you to put up this horrible façade, Draco. I can read right through you and I trust this…this git I had the misfortune of spending my evening with is not the real you. But I can’t do much about it. Do you want to live your life as the entitled prick you were back in school? So be it.”

“(Y/N)…”

“I love you, Draco. I really do. I just don’t like you anymore.”

(Y/N) didn’t even spare him a second glance before apparating. Once alone, Draco broke down completely. This was not what it was supposed to be like. 

...

(Y/N) wiped away the tears in her eyes as she opened the door to her flat. The lights were on, every single one of them. She specifically recalled turning everything off before leaving, so she clutched her wand and walked cautiously around her duplex. Much to her relief, all she found was Ernie sitting crossed-legged in the middle of her bed. She relaxed at first, but then she realized that was also a very strange sight. (Y/N) noticed that he was clutching a notebook in his hands and was eyeing it furiously.

“What are you doing?” Ernie’s eyes shot up. She realized that the notebook he was reading was her diary and her heart almost stopped.

“What is this?” he shouted, tossing her diary at her.

(Y/N) flinched. She knew exactly what he had read and guilt started to eat her up.

“(Y/N),” he roared.

She didn’t meet his eyes, fresh tears welling on her own. Ernie picked the notebook from the ground and started reading out loud.

“I love Draco. I love him with every beat of my broken heart?!” he pressed all of his anger into very single word, “Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

(Y/N) didn’t want to listen to her own foolish words. “Stop! Stop, Ernie!”

“I believe Draco feels undeserving of a good life,” he carried on anyway, “I, (Y/N), know he is undeserving of a good life.”

“Ernie, please,” she said, her voice barely audible at this point. She tried to take the book from him, but he just ran out of the room, reading and mocking her in the process.

“I hope those self-destructive behaviours don’t consume him,” he continued, “I, on the other hand, sincerely hope they do.”

When (Y/N) could finally retrieve her diary, they were engulfed by a rancorous silence. They stared at each other for the longest time, not moving an inch. She was inconsolable. His heartbreak pushed him to behave like Draco less than an hour before him.

“I am also a pureblood, (Y/N).”

“What?” the comment seemed very out of place.

“My last name is on the list of the Sacred Twenty-Eight,” he said, adopting a haughtiness she had never seen in him, “My family can be traced back to nine generations of wizards and witches.”

“Ernie, what does that have to do with anything?”

“For the past three hours or so I’ve been racking my brain, trying to think what in the world could you possibly see in Malfoy. The only logical solution I see is that you’re more biased towards blood purity than what you actually admit. Now, I can’t blame you, but –“ (Y/N)’s hand collided spectacularly with Ernie’s cheek.

Had it been a different situation, she would even feel proud about the print of her palm on his face. But rage was seeping from his every pore and (Y/N) felt humiliated. Before he could retort, she barked:

“How dare you!”

“I’ve given you everything. I tried to make this work, (Y/N). I really fancy you, love you even. But not even once have you said those three words to me and yet that…that death eater trash gets all the praise and love and poems and multiple entries on your diary? Bloody hell!” 

(Y/N) didn’t know why, but the first thing that occurred to her was to defend Draco Malfoy from Ernie: “he’s not death eater trash.” In that moment, she seriously wanted to slap herself.

Ernie looked at her as though she was insane. “Is that seriously all you got from what I just said?” he said in disbelief.

Before she could even answer he just shook his head. “You know what? Just forget about us, (Y/L/N),” he said before storming off.

(Y/N) sat down in the middle of her room. She felt like a bad person, a very stupid bad person. She had let Draco stomp all over her feelings and broke Ernie’s heart in the process. Why were feelings and relationships so hard and confusing?

All of a sudden, she felt a pair of arms engulf her in a hug. She smelled Ernie’s cologne and sobbed loudly into his chest.

“I am very sorry,” she said.

“Listen to me, (Y/N). I hope we can be friends in the future. I’m much too hurt right now…and I’d be lying if I told you I don’t resent you,” he said wiping away the tears from her eyes and forcing her to look at him. He was also crying.

“But you’re precious and I’d be honoured to have you in my life in whatever capacity,” he finished.

“I feel terrible, Ernie,” she sniffled, “but it would be an honour and a pleasure to have you as my friend…eventually.” They shared a hug and cried a little more.

When they both calmed down, things were strangely nice and light between them. Ernie praised her writing and encouraged her to publish even more.

“I know you adore your job as a teacher, love, but this,” he said pointing at the catastrophic diary, “is really your thing and the world needs more of your writing.”

(Y/N) couldn’t believe her luck. The fact that he was still here, regardless of what had just happened between them, made her heart swell. She was mesmerized by his Hufflepuff traits, his loyalty and friendliness showing up even when he was hurting.  

Before he left, he kissed her forehead and told her a few words that would haunt her dreams:  

“Be careful, princess. Malfoy really doesn’t deserve you.”

Tags: @fandomscombine @okaydraco @naomi02hook @iliketoast23 @winnsmills @oldfashionedlovergirlsblog @happycomb

[stealther-gurl]

Summer Vacation (Garth x Reader)

Word Count: 2229 

Rae requested a Garth x Reader meeting over summer vacation! I had a lot of fun with this one. Thanks again for your advice, Rae, and for your freaking fantastic moodboards :)

(gif by @betteonit )

(Y/N) grinned as they finally finished their chores. Sure, the beach house was rented, but that didn’t mean that vacation was spent in a pigsty.

“Mom, I’m going down to the beach!” They slung a beach towel over their shoulder, shoving an assortment of snacks into their bag, careful to include to blue raspberry popsicles.

“Be back by dinnertime!” Mama warned.

“And bring your boyfriend, too!” Dad teased.

(Y/N) rolled their eyes, “Bye dad, love you too.”

The porch door slammed behind them, flip-flop foam smacking against the souls of their feet as they ran up the asphalt path that lead to the beach. (Y/N)’s family had been coming here every summer for as long as they could remember, and (Y/N) couldn’t imagine it any other way.

Once they reached the pinkish sand, they carried their flip flops and pulled out their shades to see better in the sun-baked crowd, though they always knew where to look for him.

Garth was down by the tidepools, as always, pointing out all the different creatures to the one kid who had the spunk to talk to a stranger.

“Can I touch the urchin? Can I?”

Garth chuckled nervously. “It might prick you,” he warned.

“Like a porcupine?” The boy asked. Confusion flickered across Garth’s face for a moment, before the boy started rambling again. “I got pricked by a porcupine once, and I didn’t cry at all! I got sprayed by a skunk though, and that hurt.”

Garth was spared any more interrogation when the boy’s parents called him, packing up to return to the hotel for lunch.

“That was strangely attractive,” (Y/N) grinned, announcing their presence.

“I was not too awkward?” Garth asked.

(Y/N) pulled out the blue raspberry popsicles, handing one to Garth, “You were phenomenal. Better than I am with kids, by any means.” They had two younger brothers, a younger sister, and an older sister.

“Wanna get off the beach?” (Y/N) asked, the blue ice in the plastic packets already half-melted. Garth was looking a little uncomfortable around all the people swarming to the beach.

“What did you have in mind for today?” Garth asked, already following (Y/N) off the beach.

(Y/N) put their flip-flops back on their feet. We can go to the bookstore, the antique store, or any of the other tourist traps, and then my mom’s making lasagna if you want to join us for dinner.

Garth frowned, catching the sticky drips in his hand. “I am not sure, I do not know when I will have to return home.”

(Y/N) quickly forbade themselves to frown. “It’s okay, we can still have fun. We always do.”

Hand in sticky hand, the two wandered down the cobbled streets of the seaside tourist town. As long as they remembered, (Y/N)’s family had been vacationing here. For just as long, (Y/N) remembered spending almost every day on the beach with Garth after a lifeguard rescued the purple-eyed boy from a riptide when they were seven. (Y/N) waited until he woke up, a blue raspberry popsicle at the ready, though it was all melted by the time Garth had actually come around. They played with Garth in the waves until it was nighttime, when Garth’s parents came to bring him home. (Y/N) barely remembered meeting them, though they were fairly certain his dad was blonde, and his red-haired mother wore some sort of crown. (Y/N) hadn’t expected to see Garth again, until they collided on the beach again the next summer, each having acquired a fresh blue raspberry popsicle in order to cool off in the beach heat. Garth didn’t have a cell phone, but somehow, every year, they managed to find each other again and again. (Y/N)’s older said it was fate, though (Y/N) said it was just luck, as in they were lucky to have a friend like Garth.

The two spent the afternoon hidden in the back corner of the dusty, dimly-lit antique store-slash-bookstore, delving into old books that hadn’t been there last summer. Garth traced the hand-drawn pictures in the children’s books while (Y/N) animatedly read Wuthering Heights to him from an ancient, yellowing hardcover that must have been an original copy.

Garth ended up buying both books with some currency (Y/N) didn’t recognize, and when the two stepped back outside they were nearly blinded, but this time (Y/N) came prepared with sunglasses for the both of them

“Sister was a girl scout,” they grinned.

They rented bikes, and took an hour-long bike along the beach and back.

“It is like I am flying!” Garth shouted as he coasted past (Y/N). Neither of them could stop smiling.

They returned to the beach later in the evening, after most people had packed up and headed back to town for dinner.

They lay in the sand, finishing off the snacks (Y/N) had brought, watching the waves gently crash against the shore.

“I wish that every day could be like this.” Garth said, watching the sun set against the horizon.

(Y/N)’s chin was propped up in their hand to watch the ocean, but they found themselves turning back to Garth every time.

“Yeah, me too.” They sighed.

“(Y/N)!!!” Their younger brother’s shout echoed down the beach.

“Oh man,” (Y/N) groaned and reluctantly stood up, their sunburned limbs stretching out, “Dinnertime. You want some?” They asked hopefully.

Garth leaped to his feet, dusting sand off his strange yet comfortable clothing.

“I would love to-!”

His smile faded, and he turned and looked back out at the ocean. You could barely see the sun anymore.

“I cannot. My parents are expecting me home. To help and work.”

(Y/N) placed their hand on Garth’s shoulder. “I understand,” They offered a small smile, and hugged Garth tightly. Slowly, Garth hugged them back, just as fiercely.

“It was great to spend another day with you. Same time tomorrow?”

“How about the day after?”

“Deal,” (Y/N) gathered up their things, and Garth took his, slowly walking their separate ways down the beach.

-------

By the end of the summer, (Y/N)’s multiple sunburns had turned into a nice tan, perfect for showing off at school back home. Still, (Y/N) was going to miss Garth for the next ten months, until summer came again.

Or maybe it would be longer.

“Kids, we have something we need to tell you.” Mama said, calling the family together.

Dad gripped the back of the chair he stood over with white knuckles. “I lost my job.”

All the kids immediately started talking at once. What about school trips and snacks, what about college and new clothes, what about that dog they were talking about.

“Calm down,” Mama said gently. “We have a little money set aside for your sister’s college,” She nodded to the oldest, “and we have some food saved up, but if we’re going to make this work until your Dad gets a new job, we’re going to need to cut some things out.”

“No puppy?” The youngest asked.

“No puppy, sweetie, I’m sorry. There will still be Christmas and birthday gifts, but not as many or as big as before, and...” Mama and Dad looked at each other.

“We’ll have to cancel our vacation too.”

“But we always go to the beach!” (Y/N) found themselves shouting indignantly like their toddler sister.

“I know you love it there, and that you have friends there, but for the foreseeable future, we just can’t spend all that money until we get financially stable again.

“Good news is the car and the house are all paid for,” Dad smiled weakly, patting the wall of the house.

Big sister raised her hand. “The hall shower has a leak.”

After all other questions had been answered, (Y/N) shut themselves up in their room, staring wistfully at their phone, one that Garth didn’t have.

How was he going to know?

-------

Dad got a job soon enough, but not soon enough to go on their usual vacation. They drove up to Amnesty Bay, Maine to visit Grandma and Grandpa instead, and that wasn’t so bad, but everytime they swung on the rope swing into the pond, (Y/N) found themselves missing Garth, and thinking of how much fun they would have together.

At least Amnesty Bay had an antique store, a brightly lit one full of new old stuff that (Y/N) had never seen before, and Grandma just so happened to be best friends with the owner, which got (Y/N) plenty of discounts on old stuff.

(Y/N) walked along the beach with Grandpa and their siblings. The water was colder, and the sand was grayer and cooler than (Y/N) was used too, but it was better than nothing.

“What’s wrong, waterbug?” Grandpa asked, noticing how (Y/N) hung back when their siblings produced another shell or driftwood to shove in their bucket.

“I just miss my friend,” (Y/N) scuffed at the sand, wishing they had a blue popsicle right about now.

Grandpa smiled. “Don’t worry, you’ll see them soon enough.”

(Y/N) was about to tell Grandpa everything about Garth and how he was strictly a summer friend, when their little sister squealed.

“Puppy!” she cried. A brown mutt barked happily, jumping up and down in the sand in excitement to make new friends.

“Can we keep him, Grandpa? Can we? Can we?” Their little brother asked.

Grandpa chuckled and rubbed his hair, “I would, but Sandy here’s not a stray. He’s the Curry’s dog. He gets out a lot. Would you kids like to help me take him home?”

“Can we play with him?” (Y/N)’s other brother asked.

“Oh sure! The Curry’s are real friendly when you get to know him. They’re Atlanteans!”

“Atlanteans?” (Y/N)’s eyes went wide.

“Well, Mr. Curry’s also Aquaman. Have you kids heard of him?”

(Y/N)’s brothers gasped, tugging on Grandpa’s arms. “Let’s go, let’s go! I wanna meet Aquaman.”

(Y/N) took their little sister’s hand, walking with her and Sandy. “So if your owner’s Aquaman, does that make you Aqua-dog?” They asked. Sandy barked an affirmative.

Grandpa led them on a trek up a cliffside staircase to a white-and-red-striped lighthouse, waves crashing against the rocks below. Sandy barked and ran ahead of them, and by the time they reach the top, he’d attracted the attention of the lighthouse’s inhabitants.

“Did you get out again, Sandy?” A familiar young man asked, already wrestling on the grass with the dog.

“Ah! Garth! You’re not usually here during the summer,” Grandpa chuckled.

(Y/N) did a double take. Black-haired ponytail, lanky legs, purple eyes, but the t-shirt and shorts were new.

Garth froze as Sandy licked his cheeks. “(Y/N)?”

(Y/N) chuckled nervously. What were they going to tell him?

“Heh, hey Garth!” They gave a shy wave.

Having only one goal in mind, their little sister broke the awkward silence that ensued. “Can we play with your dog?”

Garth chuckled nervously, “Certainly.” He let Sandy go to play with the kids as he approached (Y/N) and Grandpa.

“I take it you two know each other,” Grandpa smiled.

“Yeah, we met on vacation a few years ago,” (Y/N) said, wondering if they should meet Garth’s gaze.

Grandpa sighed, “Excuse me,” He jogged over to keep the kids and dog from getting too close to the edge. They played fetch instead, Sandy liked that.

“So...” Garth started, “How have you been?”

(Y/N) swallowed the lump in their throat. “Are you an Atlantean?” They blurted out, instantly turning red-faced at the faux pas.

Garth laughed softly, a laugh that made (Y/N) feel better, rather than that they were being made fun of.

“Yes, I am Atlantean. A prince, actually. I help King Orin with affairs of state.”

“At sixteen?” (Y/N) blurted out. Were they trying to look stupid?

“I will admit, it is a monsterous task, but my parents died when I was young, so I have had to take on their responsibilities ever since then.”

“Oh,” (Y/N) said softly, “I’m sorry.”

“It is fine, I hardly knew them. King Orin’s mother, the late Queen Atlanna, raised me, and now he and his wife, Queen Mera, treat me as one of their own.”

“That’s why you always had to leave!” (Y/N) said slowly. They looked down in shame, digging their foot in the wet, sandy dirt. “But that doesn’t explain why I left, does it?”

Garth rubbed the back of his neck as they lapsed back into silence. “I’ll admit that I was upset when I did not meet you at our typical spot at the beginning of the summer, but I knew you would have your reasons. When you didn’t appear after that, I felt that it would be nice to visit the King and Queen’s vacation home for a while.” They gently took (Y/N)’s hand. “I’m glad I did.”

(Y/N) sighed in relief. So he didn’t hate them. “I’m sorry I didn’t show up, my dad lost his job, and so we couldn’t go where we usually go, so we decided to visit our family.”

They squeezed Garth’s hand.

“I’m glad we did.”

[marjaystuff]

Elise Cooper Interviews Melissa Senate

In The Cowboy Comeback, Amanda Jenkins and Holt Dalton's met at camp ten years ago. He was a poor 18-year-old who was only working in the kitchen of the camp because he was ordered to work there by a judge. Holt wasn't necessarily a criminal, but he did some very dumb things in his past. Amanda wasn't extremely rich by any means, but she was from a comfortable background. When camp ended, they parted. Life took them into two different directions where Amanda was leery of love, and Holt was left with a son whose Mother wanted nothing to do with the child. When they meet up again at an animal refuge/shelter they reconnected, in part because of his son. Amanda agrees to tutor him to help improve his reading.  As time goes by Amanda and Holt realize that they might want to rekindle their relationship.

The other book released this summer is A Family For A Week. Axel Dawson, Daisy’s brother is hailed as a hero after he found the heroine, Sadie's toddler son, who wandered off in the mountains. Sadie’s family decided to have a reunion at the Dawson Family Dude Ranch. After hearing her sister is now engaged, Sadie shares the news with her great grandmother. Having misheard, she thinks it's Sadie who's now engaged to Axel, who's already made clear that he's not interested in any such commitment. Too bad Sadie's dream to find the right man for herself and her son isn't going to happen with Axel, in spite of her hopes. But having been forced together Axel might be having second thoughts.

Elise Cooper: Children seem to play a large role in each book?

Melissa Senate: I love to write romances that feature babies and children and how they affect the hero and/or heroine. I’m particularly drawn to exploring how children change the characters’ outlooks on themselves, on life, and on their relationships.

EC:  In The Cowboy Comeback Robbie stole the story?

MS: It takes a village to raise Robbie with all of Holt’s family and Amanda. I’m touched to hear that Robbie stole the story even though he probably shouldn’t have! I felt so close to that little boy and his issues and troubles and triumphs. And I loved the idea of showing that Holt, his father, would need to actually let people close to him in order for Robbie to have the support he needed. This includes his family, even the ones Holt didn’t particularly get along with, like his father. I loved exploring how Robbie’s character helped facilitate the changes in their relationship.

EC: Please describe Robbie?

MS: A chatterbox, energetic, felt the loss of his absentee-mother.

EC: He is not a good reader-how many remember not being in the high reading group?

MS: Robbie’s mother left when he was very young and he grew up aware that his mother wasn’t in his life. I think Holt tried to compensate for that best he could, trying to be everything to Robbie. I really loved writing his devotion to his son—letting Robbie be the whirlwind he is while giving him guidance and protecting him from his gruff grandfather and from the way Robbie felt at school with his reading level. I remember when my son was in kindergarten and first grade and wasn’t learning to read as quickly as some kids in his class; he was so aware of it—that letter on the spine that told everyone what level he was. One thing I love so much about writing fiction is that you can fix anything that bothers you, and I gave Robbie back his confidence.

EC: How would you describe Holt?

MS: A good father, stubborn, the past affects his decisions. Definitely stubborn, a devoted father, but a man who can’t let go of his past and is letting it define him too much. Part of that is helped along because his father serves to remind Holt of who he used to be. And when he runs into Amanda, the girl from ten years ago, he let believe he was a different guy altogether. He never let on he was someone in trouble with the law or assigned to their summer camp by court order. She also reminds him of that guy he was and he gets stuck. Coupled with Robbie’s issues, Holt feels like he’s not getting life right. But Amanda—and his son’s love—helps him see he absolutely is.

EC: How would you describe Amanda?

MS: A bookworm, shy, someone who wants a child. Amanda is guarded because of a past heartbreak and I love how her concern for Holt’s son is at the forefront of her trying to ignore her fear of getting her heart broken by Holt again. She really cares about Robbie—and Holt. I like that she’s independent and knows what she wants, but there’s a lonely aspect to her characterization, and I was very happy when she gave into her love for Holt.

EC:  How would you describe the relationship in each book?

MS: “I’m you and you’re me” comes right from my love of the novel Wuthering Heights, which I read for the first time at 12. To be honest, my love of that book is all because of Heathcliff’s and Cathy’s relationship UNTIL he runs away and turns horrid. He overhears her supposedly disparaging him and runs off, missing the part where she says: “I am Heathcliff.” For Holt and Amanda, as 20 year olds, that was how they felt about each other. I’m you and you’re me. But now, ten years later, heartbreak and life do a number on them—avoidance, running away—until they find themselves so they can then find their way back to each other.

EC:  The Cowboy’s Comeback theme is about learning who you are and what are your strengths/weaknesses?

MS: I’d say the book’s heart is about self-acceptance and redemption and how, sometimes, the hardest person to prove everything to is yourself.

EC: Favorite things in both books-how much are yours and are real?

MS: I love this question. I love what a close reader you are and that you pick up on these elements!

EC; Happy Heart Animal Sanctuary real or based on something-are you a dog or cat person?

MS: There are real animal sanctuaries, quite a few in Maine. I love the idea of them. I’m both a dog and a cat person—I have one of each. A shepherd mix named Flash and a black and white cat named Cleo. The cat likes the dog more than the dog likes the cat; he’s a little afraid of her and doesn’t seem to understand what she is.

EC: Here are the topics and you can provide a quick answer?

MS: Wild West Ghosts Legends: I love adding legends to my books

Turkey and Provolone sandwich with French fries: I do a love a turkey and cheese on baguette with a side of fries. I wish I had that right now.

Western movies: Love all things western.

Marvel and DC movies: If my son, from the age of 6, hadn’t begged me to take him to see all these superhero movies, I would have never known how much I love them.

Orange color: I do love the color orange.

Favorite season: My favorite season is really fall, even though it becomes winter, and winter in Maine is only fun in December for the first few beautiful snowfalls, then it becomes unbearable until mid-April.

The Love Game: I’m pretty sure these types of games with probing personal questions for couples exist but I’m not sure!

EC: Do you like writing about single moms?

MS: I really do. I’ve been a single mom since my son was 4, and he just turned 18, so it’s a world I know well! There’s just a lot to probe about both a single mom with a lot on her plate, emotionally, financially, etc., and a hero who doesn’t think he has what it takes to be a good dad. I like changing his mind. ☺

EC: How would you describe Axel, Mcgorgeous?

MS: Ha, did I refer to him as McGorgeous? I don’t remember that! But I used to be a big Grey’s Anatomy watcher, so I’m sure I did. I’d describe Axel as feeling like he’s between lives, not quite comfortable in his new role on the family ranch, rocked by how much this single mother and her toddler son, who thinks of him as a hero, are coming to mean to him. They completely crack open his heart and world.

EC: How would you describe Sadie?

MS: Independent, sweet, kind, knows what she wants of life, forthright. Definitely independent, a single mother protective of her little boy and of her heart. I love how close she is with her family, the generations of strong women rallying around her.

EC: What role does Sadie’s family play and how would you describe them?

MS: I loved creating her family and that pushy, noisy, well-intended busybody type aunt and grandmother and great-grandmother are ones I know well! They’re in your face but when you’re upset or hurt, they’re the best people in the world to have around you.

EC: What role does Daisy play in the story?

MS: I love Daisy Dawson; she was a big part of the first book in the “Dawson Family Guest Ranch series” (For The Twins’ Sake), then had her own book in “Wyoming Special Delivery Series,” and maybe because she’s the only sister of six siblings, I give her a big presence in each book. She’s the glue of the Dawson family, demanding get-togethers and family dinners.

EC: Can you give a shout out about your next book in each series?

MS: My next book is the fifth book in the “Dawson Family Ranch series,” The Long-Awaited Christmas Wish, featuring Rex Dawson. He’s a burned out US Marshal who finds an message-in-a-bottle in containing a foster child’s fifteen-year old Christmas wish, and he has to know if her wish—to be adopted by a family—ever came true. He finds struggling single mother Maisey Clark much closer than he ever expected—working right on his family ranch, the last place he expected to return to. The other series, “Montana Mavericks: What Happened To Beatrix? Series,” which this book, The Cowboy’s Comeback is part of, continues on every month with a new book by a different author through December.

THANK YOU!!

[allanamayer]

My year in fiction.

As with last year, this post was brought to you by Bibliocommons’ Completed Shelf. Fuck yeah opt-in datasets. Anything listed here you can take as a recommendation; I’ve skipped over everything I didn’t finish or found underwhelming.

Another year, another list of awesome things I’ve read. I had a twinge around mid-year that I should start doing these more often because everything I’m reading is so wonderful. Buuuuuut let’s try this once more for now.

I delved more deeply into young-adult and kidlit this year, finishing off the Anne of Green Gables series, reading the last four books. After that I jumped right into Laura Ingalls Wilder, racism and all, and read the eight official series books. At some point later in the year I indulged in some personal nostalgia and reread two of the Louis Sachar Wayside School books that I cherished so much as a kid. I started digging around in how Canadian history is represented in kids’ reading, and discovered not just Afua Cooper’s My Name Is Henry Bibb, but also the Dear Canada books on a recommendation. I flipped through a number of kids’ biographies that aren’t technically fiction, but I’ll mention Stand There! She Shouted, a biography of Julia Cameron Mitchell that was really well done and a good mix of archival reproductions and new illustrations.

I also followed up on an adult author I love, Edward Carey, and discovered he had started writing some kids’ books about a mysterious and evil English industrial town called Foulsham. I read the first of these but haven’t gone back for more yet.

In adult books, I started with Fauna by Alissa York, an urban and modern setting unlike the books of hers I read last year. It did, however, flow nicely from 2016’s “books set in Toronto kinda” theme. I also read Behave by Andromeda Romano-Lax, which is a terrifyingly effective look at what women sacrifice when their male partners have careers in the same field as them. Wait, let me put that another way. What women sacrifice when they meet their partners in grad school and realize they’ll never be taken as seriously as them. No! What sucks about gender. There, that’ll do.

In February I went to Mexico for a short work-cation, and took Anna Freeman’s completely badass Fair Fight as well as some non-fiction, which didn’t last me very long. Luckily the hostel bookshelves contained Julia Alvarez’s fantastic and touching How The Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents, as well as a relatively new copy of Wuthering Heights, which I had never read. It was so miserable I was actually pretty happy to get back to Villette as part of a long overdue group read - which of course ended up being both awesome and frustrating. After this I landed on Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton, I think as part of that group’s discussions. Definitely less frustrating and vastly funnier. Oh yeah and I read North & South entirely on my phone from Project Gutenberg, staying up late and giggling into the covers - admittedly after I watched the adaptation on Netflix.

I would've watched North & South a long time ago if someone had told me it was about union organizing

— ҩȴȴҩηҩ (@allanaaaaaaa) August 16, 2017

Two books left me completely heartbroken and sobbing this year: Yaa Gyasi’s Homegoing and Katherena Vermette’s The Break. Between the two of them you have American and Canadian injustice pretty well cornered. Can I admit that while reading Colson Whitehead’s Underground Railroad I spent a lot of time thinking about going back and reading Homegoing again? I’m not trying to pit them against each other or anything, just, if you liked the former you should definitely definitely read the latter.

I was telling my boss about something I was reading, although now I can’t remember what it was, and she recommended to me Susan Orleans’ Orchid Thief, which I know, I know, and I had never actually made it through Adaptation before either, but the book of course was totally great.

In sci-fi, I read the followup to The Girl With All The Gifts, The Boy On The Bridge and maybe cried a little. I thoroughly enjoyed the series by Ann Leckie - Ancillary Justice, Ancillary Mercy, Ancillary Sword. At the end of the year I dipped back in for Provenance. I’ll mention Ted Chiang’s Arrival, too, although only some of the stories were interesting to me.

In post-apocalypse, there was Good Morning, Midnight, which was recommended to me as “Station Eleven-ish” and I mean it kinda was, but a little slower-paced and meditative and left just the right amount of information out. I read The Leftovers by Tom Perotta and found it fantastic. I also read Jean Hegland’s Into The Forest after finding out it was going to be a movie (this is admittedly a trend for me) and holy hell I did not at all expect the way the last few chapters panned out. Not even a little bit.

In fantasy, we found a copy of Patrick Rothfuss’s Wise Man’s Fear in a neighbourhood book exchange so I got Name Of The Wind from the library and read both of them in a very quick flash. Really wonderful world.

In art writing, I probably most enjoyed Barbara Shapiro’s Art Forger, although I most identified with Sara Baume’s Line Made By Walking. Like, a bit too much. I also really liked Andrew O’Hagan’s The Illuminations after I became short-term obsessed with Margaret Watkins, although it was hard to get into.

Also it occurs to me upon reflection that I never actually finished Anthony Doerr’s All The Light We Cannot See, even though it is a lovely book. I think I maxed out my tolerance for WWII depictions this year, for some strange unknowable reason.

I am way too lazy to do a non-fiction list, again, but that’s okay because this year I mostly just read trashy art-crime books:

Priceless by Robert Wittman

The Gardner Heist by Ulrich Boser

Provenance by Laney Salisbury

The Forger's Spell by Edward Dolnick

Seduced by Modernity: The Photography of Margaret Watkins, by Mary Elizabeth O'Connor

The Lost Painting by Johnathan Harr

… as well as Lab Girl by Hope Jahren, and the Josephine Baker graphic novel, the two most worth mentioning.

[purple-warlock-reblogs]

Piggy didn’t deserve his fate :(

Freakin loved that kid

got thoughtful about opinions on bad books so here’s an inverse: what’s a book you had to read for school that you actually enjoyed/have grown to like? mine is Lord of the Flies