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.
Never again.
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.
Ruined.
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.
Cheers!
Skye
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