Heir of Uncertain Magic (Whimbrel House, #2)

by Charlie N. Holmberg

communionist,

Fully read this as communist

Like she’d been carved out of marble by Michelangelo himself.

Good lord

She swatted his arm, and he chuckled. “You are a rake, Mr. Fernsby.” He caught her hand before she could withdraw it. “Surely that comment wasn’t bad enough to warrant chastisement via my surname.” He could see her fighting a smile. “You are a rake, Merritt.”

inside it was a little boy who desperately missed his family. A little boy Merritt barely recognized, and

So he pushed it away, burying it beside the other half-rotted corpses he’d collected over the years. Poured on dirt and rocks and logs until the graves were hardly recognizable. He was already starting to feel better.

And this is super healthy of course

She’d reread the note every day since receiving it, like she needed to reassure herself it had really happened. That there was a man alive who actually cared for her that way. That the cycle of rejection and loneliness had actually stopped.

administrative assistant.”

Im sure theyre evil but this is literally robin edwin and addy omg

again Merritt wondered how much of the mutt had integrated itself with Owein, or if Owein simply embraced his identity as a terrier.

Merritt laced his fingers with hers as he walked her back to the Bright Bay Hotel, sticking her hand in his coat pocket for extra warmth.

Hulda turned toward him; he ran his palms down her arms.

“I enjoyed this,” he murmured. The bubble expanded, and she felt like a young girl again. “I did, too.” Leaning close so their foreheads brushed, he said, “I miss you.”

“P-Perhaps I could stop by this weekend, and—” “Don’t bother.”

All Merritt wanted was to love her, and to show her he loved her because he knew she doubted herself. He could see it in her eyes and the twist of her mouth, in her stance. Hear it in her carefully curated words and unsure tone.

this was a stupid thing to wallow over. All of it was stupid. He was stupid.

“So you’d have preferred it if I’d never been born.” Sutcliffe’s eyebrows drew together. “Don’t put words in my mouth.” But his expression relaxed. “It was a mistake. You are not a mistake,

“I wanted you, boy.” Sutcliffe’s voice was nearly a whisper. “Couldn’t have you, but I wanted you.”

Christ almighty

He could hear Beth’s voice in the back of his head, scolding him, warning him not to slobber or leave teeth marks, but she wasn’t here. Maybe if he damaged a few spines, she’d somehow sense it and come back. He’d rather be scolded by Beth than be unscolded and alone.

Mother was never coming home. None of his family were. Merritt is family, he reminded himself.

Part of her feared she’d meant to push Merritt away. She was a master of that—shoving aside any thought of love so she could manage life without disappointment.

Now she had love, or at least she hoped she still had it, and she didn’t know how to turn those safety measures off.

you’ve always had an old soul, but the older you get, the more, I don’t know, afraid you become of being human. Your emotions are in a cage stiffer than that corset.”

Gifted kid complex

Humans are emotional creatures, even you.

“Even if the worst happens,” Fletcher went on, “you know we’re your family, too, right?”

“Thank you,” he whispered. Something about the words, about the weariness to his voice, made her eyes sting. She wrapped her arms around him. “It was no trouble.” She leaned her cheek against his head. “Do you want to eat . . . ?” “In a moment.” His arms loosely encircled her. He didn’t lift his head. “In just . . . a moment.” Hulda nodded. Squeezed a little tighter. They stayed like that for a long time.

Hjghlighting bc i am emotional

“Not because you are having an affair with him?”

Women are so easily labeled as hysterical.”

Her maiden name could become a middle name, but Merritt didn’t voice that.

Merritt beamed at her. This man! But if teasing her brightened his mood this much, she would let him torment her until the end of her days.

And in the tea leaves, she saw a pattern. The room changed; it was the same room, but she was elsewhere in it, her back pressed to the mattress, Merritt’s hair against her cheek, the sensation of his mouth on her neck, and— And

Omggggg

She’d worked her hands to redness. Merritt crouched down in front of her and took them in his own, preventing her from causing further damage. He offered her a soft, lopsided smile.

Had he fallen into a novel unawares?