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December 21 - December 24, 2024
This is why I became a professional organiser in the first place. To snog hot lords…er, I mean, to save someone else from having to live the way I grew up, drowning beneath piles of rubbish.
Lol… Like inside out… This is the only reason I know what this means ha ha ha ha
The opening riff of Amon Amarth’s ‘With Odin on Our Side’ blasts from the speakers. Alaric leaps back, his eyes wide with terror. “It sounds as though the Vikings are invading,” he yells. “That’s accurate.” I turn it down a notch.
Actually, he did talk about paint drying for a bit. It’s surprisingly hot.
luxuriates
I shove the accounts out of my head. “Influencer? Content? Brand profile?” Alaric’s lip twists as he takes another sip of wine. “None of these terms are familiar to me.” “That’s right, I forgot that you live in a Poe story and eschew technology.
I trudge through room after messy room, a wave of mortification hitting me. Winifred has been so kind about my mess, but she must think me an animal, the way I live. She’s not wrong. I live like what I am – a dread creature, a monster.
She will discover what you hide in the dining room.
WHAT IS IT
I fall into a world of brooding, epically-schlonged vampires and read until sunlight pours through my windows.
Rich people have more rooms than sense.
His upper torso is naked, gleaming with beads of water that roll down the kind of perfectly chiselled alabaster chest that would have Michelangelo’s David reaching for the kettlebells.
Blame my feisty ovaries.
“Winnie, I hope you haven’t been waiting for me too long. I’m eager to begin our work.” The way he says this, his eyes locked on mine with the same raw intensity he usually reserves for his arm, makes me self-consciously check that I definitely, absolutely remembered to put clothes on this morning.
🤭😂😂☺️
“Years ago, I built a forge in one of the outbuildings,” he says woodenly. “You don’t want to go in there. I surrendered it to the spiders. They are the forge overlords now.”
Alaric draws a long, curved blade from the pile. “Take this with you. For protection.” “And put it where? Drat my luck, I left my sword-concealing pants back in London.”
😂🤭🤡
“Ew. Beth.” Komal scrunches up her face. “What’s in this muffin, apart from sadness?” “They’re made with sprouted mung beans, ashwagandha, reishi, lion’s mane, and I mixed in a quinton shot for foundational vitamins and gut health.” “It tastes like a hate crime.”
A HATE CRIME LOLOLOLOLOL
Geralt of Rivia comes to him for workout tips.
This is the second time this phrase is mentioned…
5
The butterfly that lives permanently in my stomach around him is joined by a friend, but their churning stirs memories I’d rather forget.
Alaric’s eyes meet mine, and there’s such vulnerability there that my thoughts scatter like pool balls after an overly enthusiastic break.
6
But with you at the helm, Allie has a chance to pull this off.” Allie? Allie? I’m going to do a lot of mental adjusting to believe Alaric lets him get away with calling him Allie.
I search my tidy desk, trying to remember where Winnie put my phone. She left it in a tray on the corner, along with my set of castle keys. What an odd place for them to be. That woman is infuriating.
He may be a rake and a wastrel of the first order, but Gideon Blake will fall on a sword for me, as I would for him. (Although only if the sword is made by a master smith. I don’t eviscerate myself on inferior craftsmanship.)
Usually, when I close the lid of my coffin, I am dead to the world. (That’s my little joke, since I am always dead to the world.)
Or I’ll leap on him and climb him like a haunted treehouse. It’s one or the other.
“You are safe in my castle, Winnie.” …unless I am in your bed…
“I’m sorry, you rescind the tea invitation? That is the sickest burn I’ve heard from a member of the aristocracy.”
“You’re my knight in shining armour.” “I’m afraid my armour is rather dulled from lack of use, but if you ask it, I shall adorn my suit and duel that fiend Patrick. Luckily, we will not need such a large rope for his tiny testicles—”
“I’m used to skewering my enemies on ornately decorated swords,” Alaric says as he wraps his long fingers around his glass but does not drink it. “Pretending to be your husband is a more pleasant form of revenge. Plus it has the added advantage of less gore on my clothes.” “I’m never certain if you’re kidding or not, but I love this bloodthirsty version of you.” I hold out my glass, and he clinks.
“Winnie requires a new rectangle of annoyance, as hers has joined my ill-conceived attempts at knitting at the bottom of the cistern.”
😂😂🤭
“Reginald will be pleased. Women in flowing gothic dresses are always fleeing dramatically from the castle holding them, and we’re running low.”
My father taught me his trade, and my mother taught me to laugh.
I spent far too much time with those warriors, learning the art of the blade and the vocabulary of war.
“The act of drinking from another human is one of utmost trust. I will never ask you to do this.” I swallow again. “However, if you should decide to—” “I plan on biting you first, vampire. To establish dominance.” I dare a grin, showing her my fangs. “I’d like that.” “Gross.” Winnie rises from her chair, her golden eyes sparkling with delight.
Alaric must hear my lady parts gasping,
😂😂😂😂🤡🤡🤡☠️☠️☠️☠️
And that means breaking the back of our final room. After my appointment at Grimdale Sexual Health (not that I intend to sleep with Alaric, because I have rules. It’s just a precaution. Shut up.)
“Stop thinking what you’re thinking this moment.”
“You may be my betrothed, but I do not command you, nor would I ever try. I can only warn you to be careful. Know that I am here, and I will fly to your rescue if you call my name.”
Winnie: I’m shaken up, but I’m okay. I’m worried about Claire. She must be so upset. Beth: Why do you care about the harlot? I thought we hexed her? Maisie: BETH!
“Our love came unannounced in the night, knocking down walls and lighting candles in the gloom,”
with the surety of ages,
“I know it’s hard for you to let me see you being weak,” he murmurs. “You have always had to be so strong. You’re the one who cleans up everyone’s mess, so you never get to be a mess yourself. Well, I want to love you whether you are a quiet day or a raging hurricane. I want you to fall apart for me so I can love every piece of you. Give me your wounds, Winnie, and I will bleed for you.”
😭💕
And then, the kiss is no longer sweet, no longer stained with pretty poetry.
The stars shimmer their approval.
A blush creeps over my cheeks as I remember what I sometimes do with my purple vibrator after a nightmare to calm myself down. “Did you…hear anything else?” “Oh, no, absolutely not,” he says stoically. “Definitely not anything that would appear on page 64 of one of your books.” Great. Just wonderful.
Hahahahahahaha
“Okay,” I say. “Okay?” “Okay. I’ll stay on at Black Crag with you.” My heart hammers against my ribs. I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. “On three conditions.” “I accept.” “You don’t even know what the conditions are.” “I don’t need to.”
“Hold still, Winifred. I know what I’m doing.” “Yes. I loved your work on Hellraiser, but you’re turning me into a slice of Swiss cheese. Ow.” “A sexy Swiss cheese.” Beth grins as she twirls my chair around. I gasp. Beth is a magician.
“Winnie Preston, you fox,” Isis screeches. “Alaric’s gonna wish he died again,” Komal purrs. “I am a fashion genius,” Arabella preens. “That dress was made for you.” “I believe it was made for you,” I point out. “Maybe I should change…”
anachronistic
