Sunday, February 16, 2020
Sunday's Short Stack: Dancing in Darkness by Alice Winters
Ever since Antonio began working as a dancer at Frank’s club, he’s been trying to get Frank’s attention. To others, Frank might not be the ultimate catch, but to Antonio, he’s the man of his dreams. The problem is, Frank has already turned Antonio down out of fear for Antonio’s safety following an abduction and near-death experience. But Antonio is not ready to give up. He is determined to win him over on Valentine’s Day, no matter what he has to do. Even if it requires some unusual help from his friends, Felix and Lane. Nothing is too far for Antonio, not even a botched kidnapping.
Dancing in Darkness is a 20k-word novella featuring true love, abductions gone wrong, and a family that may be a bit too extreme.
This novella takes place after the events of In Darkness 3.
After finishing Deception in Darkness(#3) I found there was a short novella about Antonio and Frank and it was evening of February 13th so I figured what better way to start my Valentine's Day than reading Dancing in Darkness, a Valentine's Day short.
I instantly fell in love with Felix and Lane last November when I first dived into Hidden in Darkness but with Deception I also found myself falling head over heels in love with the friendship between Felix and Antonio. So it's a bit grudgingly friendship on Antonio's part at first but their banter is nearly as delightful as Felix and Lane's, definitely a bromance in the making. So even though Dancing is Antonio and Frank's Valentine story, Felix and Lane(more heavily Felix) play a part.
Flirting(badly at times😉😉), mix-ups, family, friends, tons of banter, and Alice Winters has created a great little gem worthy of her In Darkness stamp. Just want to add that one of the things I love most about this series' characters, from Felix & Lane to Antonio & Frank to Cal to Lane's family to Felix's brother and even the bad guys, the physical characteristics are real they aren't the cookie cutter Hollywood type of perfection. To me it's their realistic physicalities that actually make them perfect because to me "perfect" is imperfection and this is what makes this novella and series as a whole really pop for me.
RATING:
Chapter One
“Antonio!”
Oh no. Please. No. Not him.
“Antonio!”
I quicken my pace, deciding that I really don’t need that pack of Oreos. If I can make it through the checkout line and out the door before he notices me, cookie withdrawals will be worth it.
Felix slides in front of me, clear irritation on his face.
I look down at the man, though I’m not sure there are many who look up at him. Five-year-olds, maybe? I’m not super tall myself, only five foot eight, but I feel tall around him.
“Are you running from me?” he asks.
“No?” Oh no. I made it a question.
“He made it a question,” another man says as he comes up behind me. I turn to look at Lane, Felix’s boyfriend, who is truly God’s gift to mankind. He looks like what horny women would dream up if they were allowed to have a mold maker for men. He has the tall, dark-haired, handsome thing going on which is why I question how he ended up with Felix. Visually, they are complete opposites but together, they work strangely well.
By Lane’s side is his seeing-eye dog, Copper, who is wagging his black tail. Honestly, he may be the only one out of the three I’m glad to see.
It’s not that I dislike Lane or Felix. Actually, I secretly kind of like them. I’ve never met two people who get into more shit in my life. The issue is that they recently dragged me into their shit. After being tied up, threatened, then held at gunpoint, I feel like I’ve had my Lane and Felix quota for the next ten years.
“You’re looking rough, Antonio,” Felix says with a grimace. “You're letting yourself go.”
I glare at him. I take it back. Twenty years would be too soon. “What am I letting go, exactly?”
Felix shrugs. “I don’t know, I just wanted to make myself feel better. Did you pop your cherry yet?”
Fifty years would be too soon. I glare at him some more. “Excuse me?”
“Felix told me about that. Are you sure you want to waste it on Frank?” Lane asks. “How old are you? Twenty-seven? You’ve kept it so long, save it for the perfect man.”
Now he’s getting in on it too?
“You should keep that until you hook a man like I did,” Felix assures me. “Then again, there’s no one like Lane.”
Then he says cute things and I kind of forgive him a tiny bit.
“How about a threesome?” he suggests.
Make it sixty years.
Lane shrugs and I realize that he’s lost his mind as well. The poor man is blind and probably can’t figure out how to get away from Felix. Maybe he has Stockholm Syndrome. It’s the only reasonable explanation for why these two work. “We were talking about buying a sex swing to add some excitement into the bedroom, but I suppose you’ll do,” Lane says.
“Yeah, just FYI, sometimes the dog watches. It’s only a little creepy the first few times. Then you get used to it. You’re all, ‘Oh harder, Lane, harder!’ and then you look over and the dog is staring you in the eyes. Right in the fucking eyes. Then you’re like, shit, I made eye contact, now it’s kind of weird. But he won’t—”
“Felix, babe, you’re rambling,” Lane says.
Felix grins as he pats my shoulder. “Alright, all joking aside, how is the Beauty and the Beast thing going?”
“Frank isn’t a beast.”
“You mean he transformed into a prince? Now, this I gotta see,” he says, clearly still joking.
I sigh. Just because Frank isn’t gorgeous doesn’t mean that I can’t like him. “It’s going like shit. Valentine’s Day is only a few days away and I really thought I could get him to go out with me on it. It was supposed to be special. Instead, he just runs whenever I’m around.”
Felix looks disappointed. “But you kissed him! I thought for sure… he turned you down? There’s no way he could turn you down.”
“He thinks it’s too dangerous. Told me that he doesn’t want me to get hurt. Blah blah.”
Felix is silent for a moment before looking at Lane. He leans into him and whispers. “Why do I kind of feel like it’s our fault?”
“Maybe it was the safe you stole,” Lane says. “Are you feeling guilty about that?”
He shakes his head, brownish-blond waves flopping into his face. “No, not at all.”
“The evidence?”
“No, not that either.” He shrugs. “Antonio, I’ve decided that we’re going to help you woo Frank.”
“I don’t want help.” I want help. “Especially not by you guys.” Even if it’s you guys.
“Good. Do you work tonight?”
“Yeah. Please don’t come.” Please do. I need some excitement in my life.
“We’ll be over later to check out what’s going on. I have a special ability for these things, you’ll see,” Felix says as he pats my shoulder reassuringly.
“You must, to have been able to hook Lane,” I say.
He gives me a wink. “That’s because he’s blind. He literally can’t figure out how to get away. All I need to do is rearrange the furniture every few days and he can’t find his way out of the house.”
I look over at Lane who just shrugs like he isn’t bothered by this at all. “We have a very healthy relationship, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“I wasn’t.”
Felix reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. There’s a gentle, kind smile on his face. “Valentine’s Day is only a week away; it’ll be the perfect day for you and Frank. I assure you, I will make it happen, even if Lane and I have to pay him to go on a date with you.”
“Great,” I say sarcastically.
Felix suddenly looks panicked as he grabs Lane’s arm. “Lane, we forgot the ice cream. Go fetch me ice cream.”
“Alright,” Lane says, but before leaving, he leans into me. “You’re going to regret this.”
It’s not a threat, it’s a warning. But the joke’s on him–
I already do.
He turns around and heads off with the German shepherd in tow.
I point toward Lane as he charges forward, leaving other people to part for him.
“Is he actually going to figure out how to get you ice cream?” I ask curiously.
“I don’t know. I’m kind of curious myself. See you tonight. If you want me to dance a number with you, I’ll bring some clothes.”
“You do not know how to dance. I’ve literally never seen anyone not understand the concept of dancing as much as you.”
“Thanks, I always strive to be the best. If I can’t be the best dancer, I can be the best at being awful at it. Oh god… What’s he doing?” Felix hurries off, leaving me standing in the middle of the store alone.
“Antonio!”
Oh no. Please. No. Not him.
“Antonio!”
I quicken my pace, deciding that I really don’t need that pack of Oreos. If I can make it through the checkout line and out the door before he notices me, cookie withdrawals will be worth it.
Felix slides in front of me, clear irritation on his face.
I look down at the man, though I’m not sure there are many who look up at him. Five-year-olds, maybe? I’m not super tall myself, only five foot eight, but I feel tall around him.
“Are you running from me?” he asks.
“No?” Oh no. I made it a question.
“He made it a question,” another man says as he comes up behind me. I turn to look at Lane, Felix’s boyfriend, who is truly God’s gift to mankind. He looks like what horny women would dream up if they were allowed to have a mold maker for men. He has the tall, dark-haired, handsome thing going on which is why I question how he ended up with Felix. Visually, they are complete opposites but together, they work strangely well.
By Lane’s side is his seeing-eye dog, Copper, who is wagging his black tail. Honestly, he may be the only one out of the three I’m glad to see.
It’s not that I dislike Lane or Felix. Actually, I secretly kind of like them. I’ve never met two people who get into more shit in my life. The issue is that they recently dragged me into their shit. After being tied up, threatened, then held at gunpoint, I feel like I’ve had my Lane and Felix quota for the next ten years.
“You’re looking rough, Antonio,” Felix says with a grimace. “You're letting yourself go.”
I glare at him. I take it back. Twenty years would be too soon. “What am I letting go, exactly?”
Felix shrugs. “I don’t know, I just wanted to make myself feel better. Did you pop your cherry yet?”
Fifty years would be too soon. I glare at him some more. “Excuse me?”
“Felix told me about that. Are you sure you want to waste it on Frank?” Lane asks. “How old are you? Twenty-seven? You’ve kept it so long, save it for the perfect man.”
Now he’s getting in on it too?
“You should keep that until you hook a man like I did,” Felix assures me. “Then again, there’s no one like Lane.”
Then he says cute things and I kind of forgive him a tiny bit.
“How about a threesome?” he suggests.
Make it sixty years.
Lane shrugs and I realize that he’s lost his mind as well. The poor man is blind and probably can’t figure out how to get away from Felix. Maybe he has Stockholm Syndrome. It’s the only reasonable explanation for why these two work. “We were talking about buying a sex swing to add some excitement into the bedroom, but I suppose you’ll do,” Lane says.
“Yeah, just FYI, sometimes the dog watches. It’s only a little creepy the first few times. Then you get used to it. You’re all, ‘Oh harder, Lane, harder!’ and then you look over and the dog is staring you in the eyes. Right in the fucking eyes. Then you’re like, shit, I made eye contact, now it’s kind of weird. But he won’t—”
“Felix, babe, you’re rambling,” Lane says.
Felix grins as he pats my shoulder. “Alright, all joking aside, how is the Beauty and the Beast thing going?”
“Frank isn’t a beast.”
“You mean he transformed into a prince? Now, this I gotta see,” he says, clearly still joking.
I sigh. Just because Frank isn’t gorgeous doesn’t mean that I can’t like him. “It’s going like shit. Valentine’s Day is only a few days away and I really thought I could get him to go out with me on it. It was supposed to be special. Instead, he just runs whenever I’m around.”
Felix looks disappointed. “But you kissed him! I thought for sure… he turned you down? There’s no way he could turn you down.”
“He thinks it’s too dangerous. Told me that he doesn’t want me to get hurt. Blah blah.”
Felix is silent for a moment before looking at Lane. He leans into him and whispers. “Why do I kind of feel like it’s our fault?”
“Maybe it was the safe you stole,” Lane says. “Are you feeling guilty about that?”
He shakes his head, brownish-blond waves flopping into his face. “No, not at all.”
“The evidence?”
“No, not that either.” He shrugs. “Antonio, I’ve decided that we’re going to help you woo Frank.”
“I don’t want help.” I want help. “Especially not by you guys.” Even if it’s you guys.
“Good. Do you work tonight?”
“Yeah. Please don’t come.” Please do. I need some excitement in my life.
“We’ll be over later to check out what’s going on. I have a special ability for these things, you’ll see,” Felix says as he pats my shoulder reassuringly.
“You must, to have been able to hook Lane,” I say.
He gives me a wink. “That’s because he’s blind. He literally can’t figure out how to get away. All I need to do is rearrange the furniture every few days and he can’t find his way out of the house.”
I look over at Lane who just shrugs like he isn’t bothered by this at all. “We have a very healthy relationship, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“I wasn’t.”
Felix reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. There’s a gentle, kind smile on his face. “Valentine’s Day is only a week away; it’ll be the perfect day for you and Frank. I assure you, I will make it happen, even if Lane and I have to pay him to go on a date with you.”
“Great,” I say sarcastically.
Felix suddenly looks panicked as he grabs Lane’s arm. “Lane, we forgot the ice cream. Go fetch me ice cream.”
“Alright,” Lane says, but before leaving, he leans into me. “You’re going to regret this.”
It’s not a threat, it’s a warning. But the joke’s on him–
I already do.
He turns around and heads off with the German shepherd in tow.
I point toward Lane as he charges forward, leaving other people to part for him.
“Is he actually going to figure out how to get you ice cream?” I ask curiously.
“I don’t know. I’m kind of curious myself. See you tonight. If you want me to dance a number with you, I’ll bring some clothes.”
“You do not know how to dance. I’ve literally never seen anyone not understand the concept of dancing as much as you.”
“Thanks, I always strive to be the best. If I can’t be the best dancer, I can be the best at being awful at it. Oh god… What’s he doing?” Felix hurries off, leaving me standing in the middle of the store alone.
Alice Winters started writing stories as soon as she was old enough to turn her ideas into written words. She loves writing a variety of things from romance and comedy to action. She also enjoys reading, horseback riding, and spending time with her pets.
EMAIL: alicewintersauthor@gmail.com
Dancing in Darkness #3.5
Series
Saturday, February 15, 2020
Saturday's Series Spotlight: Valentine's Love by Helena Stone
Summary:
Ty O’Malley loves Spoilt for Choice, his gift shop. He enjoys nothing more than helping his customers find the perfect present. The only exception is Valentine’s Day. Ever since his partner left him, three years previously, Ty hasn’t been able to enjoy the love-themed holiday, and goes out of his way to avoid dealing with it. This year will be no different — until his assistant interferes.
When Ben Cronin walks into his premises, looking for presents for a man he doesn’t know but has been admiring from afar, Ty can’t deny Ben is everything he would look for in a man — if he happened to be looking, which he isn’t. Besides, Ben has obviously set his sights on someone else.
As Ty instructs Ben in the art of finding the perfect gift, the two men grow closer. But there are only four weeks until Valentine’s Day. After February fourteenth, Ty will probably never see Ben again … Or will he?
Summary:
Ben Cronin and Ty O’Malley have been inseparable ever since they got together on Valentine’s Day. Nine months into their relationship, dark clouds descend when Ben’s father falls seriously ill and dies in a matter of weeks. Having lost his only close relative, Ben is grief-stricken, and appears to be sinking ever deeper into a black hole.
Desperate to help Ben cope with his pain, Ty plans a getaway for them, to coincide with their first anniversary. But taking Ben back to the stunning beauty of the Swiss Alps, a place he visited with his father years ago, is a risky undertaking. Reuniting him with memories could as easily push Ben deeper into his pain as it might help him find the first traces of light.
Ty’s plan will either bring them closer than they’ve ever been, or spell disaster— for both of them.
Valentine’s surprise is the sequel to Valentine’s Love. While it can be read as a stand-alone, you’ll enjoy this story more if you read Valentine’s Love first.
Summary:
Ty O’Malley and Ben Cronin joyfully invite you to help them celebrate their marriage on Valentine’s Day!
Two weeks before the big day, Ty and Ben can relax. With the ceremony planned and the party venue booked, they’re looking forward to counting down the moments until they are husband and husband.
Then…disaster strikes.
After the hotel cancels their reception booking, Ty and Ben resign themselves to a wedding day without a big celebration. That is, until their ever-impulsive friend, Claire, offers to organize a party for them without revealing what she has in mind. Out of options, the grooms-to-be allow Claire to take the reins.
But with no idea what awaits them and many surprises in store, will Valentine’s Day turn into an unmitigated disaster or the best day of their lives?
Valentine’s Vows is the third title in the Valentine’s Love series and best read in sequence.
Original Review February 2019:
How can anyone not love Ty O'Malley? I certainly understand his less than favorable feelings toward the whole Valentine's Day concept but one never knows what is around the corner. As for his shop, Spoilt for Choice, what I wouldn't give to have something similar in my town. As for Ben Cronin who comes looking for the perfect Valentine gift for a secret crush, his need for that perfect gift is exactly what Ty needs to realize the holiday doesn't have to be all about the heartache he lived three years prior when his partner left him. Valentine's Love is a beautifully written short novella with incredibly fun and heartwarming characters that are not rushed despite the shortness of pages and brief time period the story is set in. How I missed this little holiday gem from Helena Stone last year is beyond me but I'm glad I discovered it now.
Valentine's Surprise #2
Original Review February 2019:
It has been a year since Ben first walked into Ty's shop, Spoilt for Choice and now its Ty's turn to find the perfect gift for Valentine's Day. Unfortunately, Ben hasn't had an easy time of it lately with the passing of his father so Ty's gift is not only for the lover's holiday but it is also to brighten Ben's mood. Valentine' Surprise is another beautifully written heartwarming tale from the delightfully talented Helena Stone, however it is probably not as upbeat at times as the first one, Valentine's Love, but it is no less entertaining and fun. How can a story be "not as upbeat" and "fun" at the same time? When scripted well those two emotions actually go hand-in-hand because it shows progress of characters' feelings and lives. So even though I found Surprise to have a little more heartbreak I also found it to have more love because it shows the lengths one goes to support the one's they love.
I don't want to give any particulars away but just know that Ben and Ty's relationship is lovely but not always easy, which is only natural and Helena Stone has created a very real and beautiful love story with this novella series. Perhaps if we're real nice we'll get to see more of Ben and Ty, not only next Valentine's Day but maybe even see what their Christmases are like😉😉.
Valentine's Vow #3
I can't say I forgot how much I loved Ty and Ben, how can one forget a couple who is just so lovely and fun? I will admit I wasn't thinking about them as the holiday approached(though to be completely honest my mind and time has been a bit distracted the past few weeks with my mom's hip surgery😉) so when the author reached out to me about reading it, I was all kinds of grabby hands and "yes please!".
I was not disappointed. Okay maybe a little disappointed at the the thought this was the finale in Ty and Ben's story but not in the story itself.
So as you know, no spoilers will cross my lips(or fingers😉) but I will say that if their story had to end I can't imagine a better way than Valentine's Vows. Happiness is never in question but what kind of "fix" has Clair come up with for their ruined reception plans? Again, no spoilers from me but it's perfect. From the anxiety the guys, mainly Ty, feel over losing their original planned hotel venue to wondering what she's going to come up with in two weeks to the joy of being husbands.
Ty and Ben's journey is fun, romantic, sweet, sexy, heartwarming, and completely endearing. It's full of people you want to know and maybe even do know, to me that's what really makes this trilogy extra lovely is the realistic-ness of the characters. A true gem all the way around.
RATING:
Helena Stone can’t remember a life before words and reading. After growing up in a household where no holiday or festivity was complete without at least one new book, it’s hardly surprising she now owns more books than shelf space while her Kindle is about to explode.
The urge to write came as a surprise. The realisation that people might enjoy her words was a shock to say the least. Now that the writing bug has well and truly taken hold, Helena can no longer imagine not sharing the characters in her head and heart with the rest of the world.
Having left the hustle and bustle of Amsterdam for the peace and quiet of the Irish Country side she divides her time between reading, writing, long and often wet walks with the dog, her part-time job in a library, a grown-up daughter and her ever loving and patient husband.
GOOGLE PLAY / MeWe / iTUNES
EMAIL: helenastoneauthor@gmail.com
Valentine's Love #1
Valentine's Surprise #2
Valentine's Vows #3
Friday, February 14, 2020
📘🎥Friday's Film Adaptation🎥📘: Persuasion by Jane Austen
'She had been forced into prudence in her youth, she learned romance as she grew older'
When Anne Elliot falls in love with a handsome and charming young man, she must make a wrenching decision. The man she loves is perfect in every way...except one: he lacks the wealth and social status that would make him a suitable match for Anne. At least, that is what friends and family persuade Anne to believe. So Anne breaks off the match and sends Wentworth away. But she can't help wondering: Did I do the right thing?
It is a question that will haunt her for years until, unexpectedly, Wentworth returns. His circumstances have improved greatly.
But is it too late for Anne?
Chapter 1
Sir Walter Elliot, of Kellynch-hall, in Somersetshire, was a man who, for his own amusement, never took up any book but the Baronetage; there he found occupation for an idle hour, and consolation in a distressed one; there his faculties were roused into admiration and respect, by contemplating the limited remnant of the earliest patents; there any unwelcome sensations, arising from domestic affairs, changed naturally into pity and contempt, as he turned over the almost endless creations of the last century—and there, if every other leaf were powerless, he could read his own history with an interest which never failed—this was the page at which the favourite volume always opened:
ELLIOT OF KELLYNCH-HALL
Walter Elliot, born March 1, 1760, married, July 15, 1784, Elizabeth, daughter of James Stevenson, Esq. of South Park, in the county of Gloucester; by which lady (who died 1800) he has issue Elizabeth, born June 1, 1785; Anne, born August 9, 1787; a still-born son, Nov. 5, 1789; Mary, born Nov. 20, 1791.
Precisely such had the paragraph originally stood from the printer's hands; but Sir Walter had improved it by adding, for the information of himself and his family, these words, after the date of Mary's birth—"married, Dec. 16, 1810, Charles, son and heir of Charles Musgrove, Esq. of Uppercross, in the county of Somerset,"—and by inserting most accurately the day of the month on which he had lost his wife.
Then followed the history and rise of the ancient and respectable family, in the usual terms: how it had been first settled in Cheshire; how mentioned in Dugdale—serving the office of High Sheriff, representing a borough in three successive parliaments, exertions of loyalty, and dignity of baronet, in the first year of Charles II., with all the Marys and Elizabeths they had married; forming altogether two handsome duodecimo pages, and concluding with the arms and motto: "Principal seat, Kellynch hall, in the county of Somerset," and Sir Walter's handwriting again in this finale: "Heir presumptive, William Walter Elliot, Esq., great grandson of the second Sir Walter."
Vanity was the beginning and the end of Sir Walter Elliot's character: vanity of person and of situation. He had been remarkably handsome in his youth; and, at fifty-four, was still a very fine man. Few women could think more of their personal appearance than he did; nor could the valet of any new made lord be more delighted with the place he held in society. He considered the blessing of beauty as inferior only to the blessing of a baronetcy; and the Sir Walter Elliot, who united these gifts, was the constant object of his warmest respect and devotion.
His good looks and his rank had one fair claim on his attachment; since to them he must have owed a wife of very superior character to any thing deserved by his own. Lady Elliot had been an excellent woman, sensible and amiable; whose judgment and conduct, if they might be pardoned the youthful infatuation which made her Lady Elliot, had never required indulgence afterwards.—She had humoured, or softened, or concealed his failings, and promoted his real respectability for seventeen years; and though not the very happiest being in the world herself, had found enough in her duties, her friends, and her children, to attach her to life, and make it no matter of indifference to her when she was called on to quit them.—Three girls, the two eldest sixteen and fourteen, was an awful legacy for a mother to bequeath; an awful charge rather, to confide to the authority and guidance of a conceited, silly father. She had, however, one very intimate friend, a sensible, deserving woman, who had been brought, by strong attachment to herself, to settle close by her, in the village of Kellynch; and on her kindness and advice, Lady Elliot mainly relied for the best help and maintenance of the good principles and instruction which she had been anxiously giving her daughters.
This friend, and Sir Walter, did not marry, whatever might have been anticipated on that head by their acquaintance.—Thirteen years had passed away since Lady Elliot's death, and they were still near neighbours and intimate friends; and one remained a widower, the other a widow.
That Lady Russell, of steady age and character, and extremely well provided for, should have no thought of a second marriage, needs no apology to the public, which is rather apt to be unreasonably discontented when a woman does marry again, than when she does not, but Sir Walter's continuing in singleness requires explanation.—Be it known then, that Sir Walter, like a good father, (having met with one or two private disappointments in very unreasonable applications) prided himself on remaining single for his dear daughter's sake. For one daughter, his eldest, he would really have given up any thing, which he had not been very much tempted to do. Elizabeth had succeeded, at sixteen, to all that was possible, of her mother's rights and consequence; and being very handsome, and very like himself, her influence had always been great, and they had gone on together most happily. His two other children were of very inferior value. Mary had acquired a little artificial importance, by becoming Mrs. Charles Musgrove; but Anne, with an elegance of mind and sweetness of character, which must have placed her high with any people of real understanding, was nobody with either father or sister: her word had no weight; her convenience was always to give way;—she was only Anne.
To Lady Russell, indeed, she was a most dear and highly valued god-daughter, favourite and friend. Lady Russell loved them all; but it was only in Anne that she could fancy the mother to revive again.
A few years before, Anne Elliot had been a very pretty girl, but her bloom had vanished early; and as even in its height, her father had found little to admire in her, (so totally different were her delicate features and mild dark eyes from his own); there could be nothing in them now that she was faded and thin, to excite his esteem. He had never indulged much hope, he had now none, of ever reading her name in any other page of his favourite work. All equality of alliance must rest with Elizabeth; for Mary had merely connected herself with an old country family of respectability and large fortune, and had therefore given all the honour, and received none: Elizabeth would, one day or other, marry suitably.
It sometimes happens, that a woman is handsomer at twenty-nine than she was ten years before; and, generally speaking, if there has been neither ill health nor anxiety, it is a time of life at which scarcely any charm is lost. It was so with Elizabeth; still the same handsome Miss Elliot that she had begun to be thirteen years ago; and Sir Walter might be excused, therefore, in forgetting her age, or, at least, be deemed only half a fool, for thinking himself and Elizabeth as blooming as ever, amidst the wreck of the good looks of every body else; for he could plainly see how old all the rest of his family and acquaintance were growing. Anne haggard, Mary coarse, every face in the neighbourhood worsting; and the rapid increase of the crow's foot about Lady Russell's temples had long been a distress to him.
Elizabeth did not quite equal her father in personal contentment. Thirteen years had seen her mistress of Kellynch Hall, presiding and directing with a self-possession and decision which could never have given the idea of her being younger than she was. For thirteen years had she been doing the honours, and laying down the domestic law at home, and leading the way to the chaise and four, and walking immediately after Lady Russell out of all the drawing-rooms and dining-rooms in the country. Thirteen winters' revolving frosts had seen her opening every ball of credit which a scanty neighbourhood afforded; and thirteen springs shewn their blossoms, as she travelled up to London with her father, for a few weeks annual enjoyment of the great world. She had the remembrance of all this; she had the consciousness of being nine-and-twenty, to give her some regrets and some apprehensions. She was fully satisfied of being still quite as handsome as ever; but she felt her approach to the years of danger, and would have rejoiced to be certain of being properly solicited by baronet-blood within the next twelvemonth or two. Then might she again take up the book of books with as much enjoyment as in her early youth; but now she liked it not. Always to be presented with the date of her own birth, and see no marriage follow but that of a youngest sister, made the book an evil; and more than once, when her father had left it open on the table near her, had she closed it, with averted eyes, and pushed it away.
She had had a disappointment, moreover, which that book, and especially the history of her own family, must ever present the remembrance of. The heir presumptive, the very William Walter Elliot, Esq. whose rights had been so generously supported by her father, had disappointed her.
She had, while a very young girl, as soon as she had known him to be, in the event of her having no brother, the future baronet, meant to marry him; and her father had always meant that she should. He had not been known to them as a boy, but soon after Lady Elliot's death Sir Walter had sought the acquaintance, and though his overtures had not been met with any warmth, he had persevered in seeking it, making allowance for the modest drawing back of youth; and in one of her spring excursions to London, when Elizabeth was in her first bloom, Mr. Elliot had been forced into the introduction.
He was at that time a very young man, just engaged in the study of the law; and Elizabeth found him extremely agreeable, and every plan in his favour was confirmed. He was invited to Kellynch Hall; he was talked of and expected all the rest of the year; but he never came. The following spring he was seen again in town, found equally agreeable, again encouraged, invited and expected, and again he did not come; and the next tidings were that he was married. Instead of pushing his fortune in the line marked out for the heir of the house of Elliot, he had purchased independence by uniting himself to a rich woman of inferior birth.
Sir Walter had resented it. As the head of the house, he felt that he ought to have been consulted, especially after taking the young man so publicly by the hand: "For they must have been seen together," he observed, "once at Tattersal's, and twice in the lobby of the House of Commons." His disapprobation was expressed, but apparently very little regarded. Mr. Elliot had attempted no apology, and shewn himself as unsolicitous of being longer noticed by the family, as Sir Walter considered him unworthy of it: all acquaintance between them had ceased.
This very awkward history of Mr. Elliot, was still, after an interval of several years, felt with anger by Elizabeth, who had liked the man for himself, and still more for being her father's heir, and whose strong family pride could see only in him, a proper match for Sir Walter Elliot's eldest daughter. There was not a baronet from A to Z, whom her feelings could have so willingly acknowledged as an equal. Yet so miserably had he conducted himself, that though she was at this present time, (the summer of 1814,) wearing black ribbons for his wife, she could not admit him to be worth thinking of again. The disgrace of his first marriage might, perhaps, as there was no reason to suppose it perpetuated by offspring, have been got over, had he not done worse; but he had, as by the accustomary intervention of kind friends they had been informed, spoken most disrespectfully of them all, most slightingly and contemptuously of the very blood he belonged to, and the honours which were hereafter to be his own. This could not be pardoned.
Such were Elizabeth Elliot's sentiments and sensations; such the cares to alloy, the agitations to vary, the sameness and the elegance, the prosperity and the nothingness, of her scene of life—such the feelings to give interest to a long, uneventful residence in one country circle, to fill the vacancies which there were no habits of utility abroad, no talents or accomplishments for home, to occupy.
But now, another occupation and solicitude of mind was beginning to be added to these. Her father was growing distressed for money. She knew, that when he now took up the Baronetage, it was to drive the heavy bills of his tradespeople, and the unwelcome hints of Mr. Shepherd, his agent, from his thoughts. The Kellynch property was good, but not equal to Sir Walter's apprehension of the state required in its possessor. While Lady Elliot lived, there had been method, moderation, and economy, which had just kept him within his income; but with her had died all such right-mindedness, and from that period he had been constantly exceeding it. It had not been possible for him to spend less; he had done nothing but what Sir Walter Elliot was imperiously called on to do; but blameless as he was, he was not only growing dreadfully in debt, but was hearing of it so often, that it became vain to attempt concealing it longer, even partially, from his daughter. He had given her some hints of it the last spring in town; he had gone so far even as to say, "Can we retrench? does it occur to you that there is any one article in which we can retrench?"—and Elizabeth, to do her justice, had, in the first ardour of female alarm, set seriously to think what could be done, and had finally proposed these two branches of economy: to cut off some unnecessary charities, and to refrain from new-furnishing the drawing-room; to which expedients she afterwards added the happy thought of their taking no present down to Anne, as had been the usual yearly custom. But these measures, however good in themselves, were insufficient for the real extent of the evil, the whole of which Sir Walter found himself obliged to confess to her soon afterwards. Elizabeth had nothing to propose of deeper efficacy. She felt herself ill-used and unfortunate, as did her father; and they were neither of them able to devise any means of lessening their expenses without compromising their dignity, or relinquishing their comforts in a way not to be borne.
There was only a small part of his estate that Sir Walter could dispose of; but had every acre been alienable, it would have made no difference. He had condescended to mortgage as far as he had the power, but he would never condescend to sell. No; he would never disgrace his name so far. The Kellynch estate should be transmitted whole and entire, as he had received it.
Their two confidential friends, Mr. Shepherd, who lived in the neighbouring market town, and Lady Russell, were called on to advise them; and both father and daughter seemed to expect that something should be struck out by one or the other to remove their embarrassments and reduce their expenditure, without involving the loss of any indulgence of taste or pride.
Sir Walter Elliot, of Kellynch-hall, in Somersetshire, was a man who, for his own amusement, never took up any book but the Baronetage; there he found occupation for an idle hour, and consolation in a distressed one; there his faculties were roused into admiration and respect, by contemplating the limited remnant of the earliest patents; there any unwelcome sensations, arising from domestic affairs, changed naturally into pity and contempt, as he turned over the almost endless creations of the last century—and there, if every other leaf were powerless, he could read his own history with an interest which never failed—this was the page at which the favourite volume always opened:
ELLIOT OF KELLYNCH-HALL
Walter Elliot, born March 1, 1760, married, July 15, 1784, Elizabeth, daughter of James Stevenson, Esq. of South Park, in the county of Gloucester; by which lady (who died 1800) he has issue Elizabeth, born June 1, 1785; Anne, born August 9, 1787; a still-born son, Nov. 5, 1789; Mary, born Nov. 20, 1791.
Precisely such had the paragraph originally stood from the printer's hands; but Sir Walter had improved it by adding, for the information of himself and his family, these words, after the date of Mary's birth—"married, Dec. 16, 1810, Charles, son and heir of Charles Musgrove, Esq. of Uppercross, in the county of Somerset,"—and by inserting most accurately the day of the month on which he had lost his wife.
Then followed the history and rise of the ancient and respectable family, in the usual terms: how it had been first settled in Cheshire; how mentioned in Dugdale—serving the office of High Sheriff, representing a borough in three successive parliaments, exertions of loyalty, and dignity of baronet, in the first year of Charles II., with all the Marys and Elizabeths they had married; forming altogether two handsome duodecimo pages, and concluding with the arms and motto: "Principal seat, Kellynch hall, in the county of Somerset," and Sir Walter's handwriting again in this finale: "Heir presumptive, William Walter Elliot, Esq., great grandson of the second Sir Walter."
Vanity was the beginning and the end of Sir Walter Elliot's character: vanity of person and of situation. He had been remarkably handsome in his youth; and, at fifty-four, was still a very fine man. Few women could think more of their personal appearance than he did; nor could the valet of any new made lord be more delighted with the place he held in society. He considered the blessing of beauty as inferior only to the blessing of a baronetcy; and the Sir Walter Elliot, who united these gifts, was the constant object of his warmest respect and devotion.
His good looks and his rank had one fair claim on his attachment; since to them he must have owed a wife of very superior character to any thing deserved by his own. Lady Elliot had been an excellent woman, sensible and amiable; whose judgment and conduct, if they might be pardoned the youthful infatuation which made her Lady Elliot, had never required indulgence afterwards.—She had humoured, or softened, or concealed his failings, and promoted his real respectability for seventeen years; and though not the very happiest being in the world herself, had found enough in her duties, her friends, and her children, to attach her to life, and make it no matter of indifference to her when she was called on to quit them.—Three girls, the two eldest sixteen and fourteen, was an awful legacy for a mother to bequeath; an awful charge rather, to confide to the authority and guidance of a conceited, silly father. She had, however, one very intimate friend, a sensible, deserving woman, who had been brought, by strong attachment to herself, to settle close by her, in the village of Kellynch; and on her kindness and advice, Lady Elliot mainly relied for the best help and maintenance of the good principles and instruction which she had been anxiously giving her daughters.
This friend, and Sir Walter, did not marry, whatever might have been anticipated on that head by their acquaintance.—Thirteen years had passed away since Lady Elliot's death, and they were still near neighbours and intimate friends; and one remained a widower, the other a widow.
That Lady Russell, of steady age and character, and extremely well provided for, should have no thought of a second marriage, needs no apology to the public, which is rather apt to be unreasonably discontented when a woman does marry again, than when she does not, but Sir Walter's continuing in singleness requires explanation.—Be it known then, that Sir Walter, like a good father, (having met with one or two private disappointments in very unreasonable applications) prided himself on remaining single for his dear daughter's sake. For one daughter, his eldest, he would really have given up any thing, which he had not been very much tempted to do. Elizabeth had succeeded, at sixteen, to all that was possible, of her mother's rights and consequence; and being very handsome, and very like himself, her influence had always been great, and they had gone on together most happily. His two other children were of very inferior value. Mary had acquired a little artificial importance, by becoming Mrs. Charles Musgrove; but Anne, with an elegance of mind and sweetness of character, which must have placed her high with any people of real understanding, was nobody with either father or sister: her word had no weight; her convenience was always to give way;—she was only Anne.
To Lady Russell, indeed, she was a most dear and highly valued god-daughter, favourite and friend. Lady Russell loved them all; but it was only in Anne that she could fancy the mother to revive again.
A few years before, Anne Elliot had been a very pretty girl, but her bloom had vanished early; and as even in its height, her father had found little to admire in her, (so totally different were her delicate features and mild dark eyes from his own); there could be nothing in them now that she was faded and thin, to excite his esteem. He had never indulged much hope, he had now none, of ever reading her name in any other page of his favourite work. All equality of alliance must rest with Elizabeth; for Mary had merely connected herself with an old country family of respectability and large fortune, and had therefore given all the honour, and received none: Elizabeth would, one day or other, marry suitably.
It sometimes happens, that a woman is handsomer at twenty-nine than she was ten years before; and, generally speaking, if there has been neither ill health nor anxiety, it is a time of life at which scarcely any charm is lost. It was so with Elizabeth; still the same handsome Miss Elliot that she had begun to be thirteen years ago; and Sir Walter might be excused, therefore, in forgetting her age, or, at least, be deemed only half a fool, for thinking himself and Elizabeth as blooming as ever, amidst the wreck of the good looks of every body else; for he could plainly see how old all the rest of his family and acquaintance were growing. Anne haggard, Mary coarse, every face in the neighbourhood worsting; and the rapid increase of the crow's foot about Lady Russell's temples had long been a distress to him.
Elizabeth did not quite equal her father in personal contentment. Thirteen years had seen her mistress of Kellynch Hall, presiding and directing with a self-possession and decision which could never have given the idea of her being younger than she was. For thirteen years had she been doing the honours, and laying down the domestic law at home, and leading the way to the chaise and four, and walking immediately after Lady Russell out of all the drawing-rooms and dining-rooms in the country. Thirteen winters' revolving frosts had seen her opening every ball of credit which a scanty neighbourhood afforded; and thirteen springs shewn their blossoms, as she travelled up to London with her father, for a few weeks annual enjoyment of the great world. She had the remembrance of all this; she had the consciousness of being nine-and-twenty, to give her some regrets and some apprehensions. She was fully satisfied of being still quite as handsome as ever; but she felt her approach to the years of danger, and would have rejoiced to be certain of being properly solicited by baronet-blood within the next twelvemonth or two. Then might she again take up the book of books with as much enjoyment as in her early youth; but now she liked it not. Always to be presented with the date of her own birth, and see no marriage follow but that of a youngest sister, made the book an evil; and more than once, when her father had left it open on the table near her, had she closed it, with averted eyes, and pushed it away.
She had had a disappointment, moreover, which that book, and especially the history of her own family, must ever present the remembrance of. The heir presumptive, the very William Walter Elliot, Esq. whose rights had been so generously supported by her father, had disappointed her.
She had, while a very young girl, as soon as she had known him to be, in the event of her having no brother, the future baronet, meant to marry him; and her father had always meant that she should. He had not been known to them as a boy, but soon after Lady Elliot's death Sir Walter had sought the acquaintance, and though his overtures had not been met with any warmth, he had persevered in seeking it, making allowance for the modest drawing back of youth; and in one of her spring excursions to London, when Elizabeth was in her first bloom, Mr. Elliot had been forced into the introduction.
He was at that time a very young man, just engaged in the study of the law; and Elizabeth found him extremely agreeable, and every plan in his favour was confirmed. He was invited to Kellynch Hall; he was talked of and expected all the rest of the year; but he never came. The following spring he was seen again in town, found equally agreeable, again encouraged, invited and expected, and again he did not come; and the next tidings were that he was married. Instead of pushing his fortune in the line marked out for the heir of the house of Elliot, he had purchased independence by uniting himself to a rich woman of inferior birth.
Sir Walter had resented it. As the head of the house, he felt that he ought to have been consulted, especially after taking the young man so publicly by the hand: "For they must have been seen together," he observed, "once at Tattersal's, and twice in the lobby of the House of Commons." His disapprobation was expressed, but apparently very little regarded. Mr. Elliot had attempted no apology, and shewn himself as unsolicitous of being longer noticed by the family, as Sir Walter considered him unworthy of it: all acquaintance between them had ceased.
This very awkward history of Mr. Elliot, was still, after an interval of several years, felt with anger by Elizabeth, who had liked the man for himself, and still more for being her father's heir, and whose strong family pride could see only in him, a proper match for Sir Walter Elliot's eldest daughter. There was not a baronet from A to Z, whom her feelings could have so willingly acknowledged as an equal. Yet so miserably had he conducted himself, that though she was at this present time, (the summer of 1814,) wearing black ribbons for his wife, she could not admit him to be worth thinking of again. The disgrace of his first marriage might, perhaps, as there was no reason to suppose it perpetuated by offspring, have been got over, had he not done worse; but he had, as by the accustomary intervention of kind friends they had been informed, spoken most disrespectfully of them all, most slightingly and contemptuously of the very blood he belonged to, and the honours which were hereafter to be his own. This could not be pardoned.
Such were Elizabeth Elliot's sentiments and sensations; such the cares to alloy, the agitations to vary, the sameness and the elegance, the prosperity and the nothingness, of her scene of life—such the feelings to give interest to a long, uneventful residence in one country circle, to fill the vacancies which there were no habits of utility abroad, no talents or accomplishments for home, to occupy.
But now, another occupation and solicitude of mind was beginning to be added to these. Her father was growing distressed for money. She knew, that when he now took up the Baronetage, it was to drive the heavy bills of his tradespeople, and the unwelcome hints of Mr. Shepherd, his agent, from his thoughts. The Kellynch property was good, but not equal to Sir Walter's apprehension of the state required in its possessor. While Lady Elliot lived, there had been method, moderation, and economy, which had just kept him within his income; but with her had died all such right-mindedness, and from that period he had been constantly exceeding it. It had not been possible for him to spend less; he had done nothing but what Sir Walter Elliot was imperiously called on to do; but blameless as he was, he was not only growing dreadfully in debt, but was hearing of it so often, that it became vain to attempt concealing it longer, even partially, from his daughter. He had given her some hints of it the last spring in town; he had gone so far even as to say, "Can we retrench? does it occur to you that there is any one article in which we can retrench?"—and Elizabeth, to do her justice, had, in the first ardour of female alarm, set seriously to think what could be done, and had finally proposed these two branches of economy: to cut off some unnecessary charities, and to refrain from new-furnishing the drawing-room; to which expedients she afterwards added the happy thought of their taking no present down to Anne, as had been the usual yearly custom. But these measures, however good in themselves, were insufficient for the real extent of the evil, the whole of which Sir Walter found himself obliged to confess to her soon afterwards. Elizabeth had nothing to propose of deeper efficacy. She felt herself ill-used and unfortunate, as did her father; and they were neither of them able to devise any means of lessening their expenses without compromising their dignity, or relinquishing their comforts in a way not to be borne.
There was only a small part of his estate that Sir Walter could dispose of; but had every acre been alienable, it would have made no difference. He had condescended to mortgage as far as he had the power, but he would never condescend to sell. No; he would never disgrace his name so far. The Kellynch estate should be transmitted whole and entire, as he had received it.
Their two confidential friends, Mr. Shepherd, who lived in the neighbouring market town, and Lady Russell, were called on to advise them; and both father and daughter seemed to expect that something should be struck out by one or the other to remove their embarrassments and reduce their expenditure, without involving the loss of any indulgence of taste or pride.
Release Date: April 16, 1995(United Kingdom)
September 27, 1995(United States)
Release Time: 104 minutes
Cast:
Amanda Root as Anne Elliot
Ciarán Hinds as Captain Frederick Wentworth
Susan Fleetwood as Lady Russell
Corin Redgrave as Sir Walter Elliot
Fiona Shaw as Mrs. Croft
John Woodvine as Admiral Croft
Phoebe Nicholls as Elizabeth Elliot
Samuel West as Mr. Elliot
Sophie Thompson as Mary Musgrove
Judy Cornwell as Mrs. Musgrove
Simon Russell Beale as Charles Musgrove
Felicity Dean as Mrs. Clay
Roger Hammond as Mr. Musgrove
Emma Roberts as Louisa Musgrove
Victoria Hamilton as Henrietta Musgrove
Robert Glenister as Captain Harville
Richard McCabe as Captain Benwick
Helen Schlesinger as Mrs. Smith
Jane Wood as Nurse Rooke
David Collings as Mr. Shepherd
Darlene Johnson as Lady Dalrymple
Cinnamon Faye as Miss Carteret
Isaac Maxwell-Hunt as Henry Hayter
Roger Llewellyn as Sir Henry Willoughby
Sally George as Mrs. Harville
Jane Austen was an English novelist whose works of romantic fiction, set among the landed gentry, earned her a place as one of the most widely read writers in English literature, her realism and biting social commentary cementing her historical importance among scholars and critics.
Austen lived her entire life as part of a close-knit family located on the lower fringes of the English landed gentry. She was educated primarily by her father and older brothers as well as through her own reading. The steadfast support of her family was critical to her development as a professional writer. Her artistic apprenticeship lasted from her teenage years until she was about 35 years old. During this period, she experimented with various literary forms, including the epistolary novel which she tried then abandoned, and wrote and extensively revised three major novels and began a fourth. From 1811 until 1816, with the release of Sense and Sensibility (1811), Pride and Prejudice (1813), Mansfield Park (1814) and Emma (1815), she achieved success as a published writer. She wrote two additional novels, Northanger Abbey and Persuasion, both published posthumously in 1818, and began a third, which was eventually titled Sanditon, but died before completing it.
Austen's works critique the novels of sensibility of the second half of the 18th century and are part of the transition to 19th-century realism. Her plots, though fundamentally comic, highlight the dependence of women on marriage to secure social standing and economic security. Her work brought her little personal fame and only a few positive reviews during her lifetime, but the publication in 1869 of her nephew's A Memoir of Jane Austen introduced her to a wider public, and by the 1940s she had become widely accepted in academia as a great English writer. The second half of the 20th century saw a proliferation of Austen scholarship and the emergence of a Janeite fan culture.
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Thursday, February 13, 2020
Blog Tour: Sticky Fingers by Davidson King
Title: Sticky Fingers
Author: Davidson King
Genre: M/M Romance, Suspense
Release Date: January 27, 2020
When the desperate needs of his family must come before his dream of finishing his degree, Kyle, feeling both guilt ridden and heartbroken, knows what he needs to do. But when his help isn’t enough, a shady idea offered by his even shadier friend proves the only saving grace.
Mergers, acquisitions, and philanthropy consume Maddox’s days and nights prompting an overdue visit to his best friend’s luxury resort. Finally enjoying some R&R, he meets an adorable botanist working there for the summer. But a surprise visit from his ex and a shocking theft from his suite turn Maddox’s trip into chaos.
Trusting his gut, Maddox strikes a deal to help Kyle make up for his sticky fingers. But when his heart gets involved and his ex refuses to let go, Maddox’s plan starts to unravel. A summer of romance, deceit, and greed have both men navigating emotional waters, leaving them to wonder if true love and their happy ever after will come to pass.
Sticky Fingers, what a title! What a story!!! Now you know me, there won't be any spoilers in this review but let me just say I was completely sucked in halfway through page 3. I firmly believe love knows no age but not all age-gap, May/December romances are meant to be. Well, Kyle and Maddox are not only believably meant to be they are not meant to be with anyone else. Now I used the term "believably", I think it's pretty certain early on that you'll never meet either man in your day-to-day routine and yet neither are they out of reach, over-the-top, soap-opera-ish. To me they are an even blending of realistic and fictional that makes the story and the predicaments they face even more tension-filled, heartwarmingly, snark and cuddle entertainment.
Okay, that's it on the storyfront you are going to get out of me😉. Some stories you can get a feel of the tale from talk and then there are stories that you just have to completely experience for yourself to understand and appreciate the pull, well Davidson King's Sticky Fingers is one of those you have to experience for yourself, at least in my opinion.
I've seen how people are saying Sticky Fingers is very different than Davidson King's Haven Hart Universe and it definitely is, yet the adrenaline rush I got while reading was exactly the same. The heart-pounding passion to not put it down was there on every page just as it has been with all her stories. Don't get me wrong, the story is vastly different, but the characters still possess the well developed edginess we've come to know King for but you'll never mistake them for any of the author's previous ones.
In one of the author's facebook posts she talks about writing outside her comfort zone a bit with Sticky Fingers, Maddox, and Kyle well I can't speak for the author but personally you'd never know she "went outside her box", not because it's similar to her other work but because the flow is so beautiful and almost effortless. This is only one of many reasons that makes Davidson King a storyteller, not just a writer, but a true storyteller.
RATING:
“Summer storms, gotta love them.” Maddox had a look of childlike wonder. “I loved storms as a kid. One summer my family and I were staying at this cabin on the lake, and a storm like this hit and all the power went out. My dad had flashlights because he wouldn’t let us use candles for fear we’d burn the place down.” The whole time Maddox was telling me the story he didn’t take his eyes away from the flashes of light, nor did he jump like I did at the booming thunder.
“My brother Evan screamed ‘Flashlight hide-and-seek,’ and we ran.” He laughed. “He would close his eyes and count and we all had to hide. When we were in our spot, we shut the light off. It was scary and exciting. We had to hope a flash of lightning wouldn’t give away our locations. Luna always won, but it was the best time.”
Rain pelted the windows and Maddox shook off his memory as he looked down at me. “Sorry, I don’t know why I overshared like that.” His eyes flitted around the room, everywhere but meeting my gaze. “How about that tour of the house now that you can’t go into the garden?”
He wasn’t looking at me, and I didn’t know if it was because he was embarrassed he’d told me such a sweet story about his family.
“Tour sounds great.”
Rain pelted the windows and Maddox shook off his memory as he looked down at me. “Sorry, I don’t know why I overshared like that.” His eyes flitted around the room, everywhere but meeting my gaze. “How about that tour of the house now that you can’t go into the garden?”
He wasn’t looking at me, and I didn’t know if it was because he was embarrassed he’d told me such a sweet story about his family.
“Tour sounds great.”
Davidson King, always had a hope that someday her daydreams would become real-life stories. As a child, you would often find her in her own world, thinking up the most insane situations. It may have taken her awhile, but she made her dream come true with her first published work, Snow Falling.
When she's not writing you can find her blogging away on Diverse Reader, her review and promotional site. She managed to wrangle herself a husband who matched her crazy and they hatched three wonderful children.
If you were to ask her what gave her the courage to finally publish, she'd tell you it was her amazing family and friends. Support is vital in all things and when you're afraid of your dreams, it will be your cheering section that will lift you up.
EMAIL: davidsonkingauthor@yahoo.com
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