July 17, 2016
Another week of not losing any favorites on The Last Ship. Now I'm really concerned whoever is next will completely gut me. The Greens need to stay safe, at least long enough for a lovely family reunion. I actually fear something will happen to Mrs. Green because that's so not the obvious choice. I'll say this… if the president or Jacob the asshat reporter tries to harm her, I'll come after them. (In actuality, it'll probably be the blonde advisor—whose name I can't be bothered to remember—who does something awful to Kara, which, yeah, will add her to my list of 'deserves to die in a fire' candidates.)
Killjoys had a terrific episode this week. I'm excited to watch the next episode. Really interested in finding out more about Dutch's history, but I also want to see more about Johnny and D'Av, too. Sprinkling in small details about Pree, Pawter, and Alvis along the way is always welcome, too. I'm a little less into the whole nine thing, but I could become intrigued if they play that out a little over this season and really dive into it during the next season. (hint, hint).
Dark Matter jumped up on the interest chart again. I have a sneaky feeling there's been a switcheroo regarding One and I'm looking forward to finding out if my theory is correct. That said, I'm enjoying the dynamic with the remaining crew and the newcomers. We'll see if that continues. J
Babylon 5 and Strike Back rewatches are ongoing. I'm leaning toward a Banshee binge since I'll finish up Strike Back before B5 is complete. I'm also debating whether to start a few of the Netflix series I've wanted to dive into. Decisions, decisions.
Enough TV. Tonight's post is from Not on the Same Page, a novella that got a start with a written quote: I thought we were talking about wanting the same thing.
Here's the mini-blurb:
Irini Domaine loves Nathair Sofen but marries another to fulfill a familial obligation. When she suggests carrying on the relationship with Nathair he coldly refuses, which makes Irini vow to slowly but surely convince him otherwise.
And a preview snippet…
Nathair jerked awake, the bed no longer warmed by Irini's presence. He yawned and stretched, sitting up to swing his legs over the edge of the mattress. He blinked the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes and glanced around, hoping to hear the shower running.
Silence met his ears. "Iri?" He stood thinking she might be in the kitchen.
No aroma of fresh-brewed coffee met his nostrils and she always needed a jolt of caffeine to start the day. Wandering to the doorway, he didn't bother with clothes. He planned to drag Irini back to bed the first chance he got.
Making his way through the small cottage, he discovered her gone, no trace of her left behind. Unsettled, he finally dressed, made coffee, and exited the cottage, determined to find her. Maybe she got an early callout and didn't want to wake him.
His blood ran hot at the sight greeting him when he left the house. Banners and confetti lined the street, announcing the nuptials of a happy couple. The names on the signs sent a surge of pain and anger ripping through his system.
Irini Domaine and Braca Norj.
Married at dawn. Uniting the families. Forming a new cornerstone for the community.
His coffee cup hit the ground and bile rose in his throat. Shuffling forward, the world spinning sideways, his only thought to seek her out and call her wedded bliss for the utter bullshit it had to be. With each stride forward, his step grew stronger and his gait more precise. He strode through the throng of people, which grew thicker the closer he got to the town square. The grotto, surrounded by well-wishers, lit up with golden and pale pink light, the colors of the two families.
Nathair pushed his way to the front of the crowd, ready to call his lover out. "Irini!" His voice sounded like a whip, cracking through the laughter and joy surrounding the couple.
Irini tensed but nodded, pasting a bright smile on her face. "Nathair. Thank you for coming to wish us well." She held out a hand clasped his palm within hers.
When her gaze met his, determination and, well, fear filled the normally sparkling depths. She basically gave him the lay of land without saying a word. She'd done her duty by marrying to unite the two houses and something about the union—or maybe his reaction—had her fingers trembling in his grasp.
Nothing scared Irini. To openly show fright, even if only to him, kicked his ire down several notches. Instead of making the scene he planned, he directed his attention to her groom and gave him a tight smile.
Facing Irini again, he squeezed her hand. "All the best to you for the future." He sounded terse but he couldn't do any better.
He'd miss the silky glide of her skin against his, but he didn't outwardly show a reaction. His goodbye couldn't be clearer and when sadness crept into her gaze, he hardened his heart against the stab of remorse for putting it there. She didn't warrant his care or concern. Not anymore.
Stepping away from the couple, he turned and walked back to his cottage, ignoring everyone and everything along the way. Entering into his quiet home, he glanced around and when the rage built again, he unleashed the fury, sending a whirlwind spinning throughout the domain.
Irini had taken his love and burned it to the ground. She married another man, putting a centuries' old pact—not even enforceable anymore—ahead of everything else. Nathair didn't care what he destroyed in his wrath.
Because Irini had wrecked him. Left him broken, bleeding, and emotionally torn.
His head snapped up and the swirling wind ceased. "No. She doesn't have power over me." Bending down, he started picking up the mess he'd created. "Not anymore."
I'm not a huge angst writer, but this one has a large dollop to start things off. LOL
That's it for this week.