Simply Sam > Recent Status Updates

The jaw, though shadowed by the beard, was obviously strong, and the upper lip, what was visible of it, was slender and hard. Only the gentle curve of the lower lip betrayed him as a sensualist. That lower lip told stories to which the rest of his face gave a lie, and I wondered which to believe.

I'm sorry... I just couldn't resist starting! I need a little dragon in my life right now.

It’s not bravery – he wouldn’t call it bravery. Nor is it fury or daring or hard mettle. Not exactly those things. In fact, it is nothing she possesses in the positive but rather something she lacks. There is a blankness in her action – an absence that allows her to move rapidly and without hesitation. Yes, that is it. It is not bravery but instead the absence of fear.

I brung him here, and I lay him down before you – and where is the arbiter to set him true or make him pay? You command tongues to hold themselves for the name of God – and now there’s a sinner, nay two, in sore need of redemption or condemnation – either one’ll do. So redeem or condemn. I keep to my order, so why ain’t you keepin to yours?

But he looks closely at it – the colours of the welded metal where the blades come together, the elemental blues and blacks and greens and browns. The distilling of metal into liquid and then the cohering of liquid into strength. There is an awesome ugliness to the thing, and Moses admires it.

You better get right, Moses tells his brother. Get right? Mose, we’re fuckin mercenaries. Who is? We all are. Everybody is. Ain’t you noticed?

Well, this just took a strange turn.

This second book is so different from the first. It's like a "You Got Mail" HR. Kind of a strange turn. And while this is "fantasy" it's only really fantasy in the sense that it takes place in a fictional world. It's kind of an odd duck of a book duology. I like it so far, but not for the reasons I was hoping to.

Mel, with her leaping before thinking rashness and childish naivete, is starting to wear on my nerves.

He kissed her, and that was the end of it. No more pretending, no more holding back. Life changed by love, life sparkling now with its own peculiar magic. He tightened his hold and let the transformation take over. When he lifted his mouth from hers, he knew, he would be a different man. Okay, so it's kind of a kissy book.

“I trusted you to save me,” he said. It was hard to speak the words. “I suppose that’s something,” she said, and leaned in and kissed him. Yes! I love the slow burn romance between these two.

“They could kill your soul, Tayse. They could blacken it with sorcerous fumes till it turned so dark you would never get it clean again. A mystic’s touch is degrading...Have you been consorting with mystics, Tayse? Have they corrupted you? Is the flesh even now barely binding together a heart that is veined with ill intent and blood that runs black as tar?“

She hated them, but they hated her; maybe she was the canker, the witch, the atrocity they believed. And if she was not what they thought her—if she was not evil—she could not give in to evil impulses. She could not kill them all from a sense of vengeance. She could not allow herself to be guilty of such crimes. She did not want to be either as terrible as they thought her or as merciless as she thought them.

“I'd say it’s not the place to be practicing magic.” “And I was going to jump on the table, turn myself into a wolf, and go baying to the moon,” Donnal said. “Don’t bother trying to impress us,” Justin said. “We’re impressed enough already.” That's sarcasm folks. I'm starting to like Justin more and more.

Okay. Something needs to HAPPEN! There's a whole lot of meandering without every really going anywhere. Travel here. Stop for the night. Travel there. Stop for the night. Practice fight. Travel some more. And on and on. That's all that's happened in almost 200 pages. This better pick up...

“There is no reason it should die,” she said. “It has done nothing but try to live, given only the skills it was born with.” Tayse lifted his eyes, unfathomable in the night, to examine Senneth. “And you are not overfond of killing anything,” he said. “I am not. You think that is a weakness on my part.” “I don’t think you have any weaknesses at all,” he said.

I had to pause on this one for a bit. I like the world just not loving the focus on the romance I guess. Give me more action and less I can't live without you. Plus, everyone keeps talking about how strong our MC Arianna is but so far I don't buy it. It's not bad writing I just need a breather!

He watched her face again, drawn in concentration. The firelight flickered over her cheeks and danced in the white streaks of her hair. Tayse was seized by the odd belief that if he touched her, she would feel like the fire itself.

Senneth sat on the window seat, appearing to embroider something. He found himself wondering if this was a skill she really had and, if so, what particular pattern she was working on.

Deny it did you want to Tayse, but I think you liiike her.

And even if the Vidthursar were welcomed home, the Hrimthursar would still be left upon the mountain, sneered at for their brutish appearance. As if the color of their skin and the shape of their bodies had anything to do with their hearts, their honor, or their very spirits.

The house smelled like the king’s library, not that she’d spent all that much time inside it...she’d only been taught how to read and write so she could spy on her future husband, whoever he was, and send reports back to the king, when the time came. To incriminate herself, most likely. Never for pleasure.

I'm glad she didn't try to make her a relatable reader.

I think there is some trickery afoot.

He grasped her hip as he broke the kiss, bringing her tight against the hard ache of his desire. “Do you doubt me still?” he asked her softly, pressing his forehead to hers. He felt her smile in his heart, in the song of her heartbeat, and the touch of her nose to his. “Only when you stop.”

His voice came low and rough. “In the darkness, I do not have to be orc.” “Oh,” she breathed. This time when she brought her hand to his mouth, he did not stop her. She touched the tusks on either side, then the place she knew his tattoos swirled in patterns she didn’t understand. How could he not have known, all this time? “But it’s because you are orc.”

Her fingers grazed his warm skin, puckered and calloused as his palm. He caught her hand and drew her in, his yellow eyes glinting in the dark. His heart sped beneath her cheek when she pressed it against the hard muscle of his chest. Strong and fast, just like hers, even if his skin was grey-green.

The voice from the mirror haunted her still, whispering in her dreams. If he had known her name, would she hear him calling it? It was her heartbeat that had interested him, drawing him forward. And her heart still raced, thinking of him.

He pulled away, rearing back and then his powerful muscles were bulging and tensing as he literally ripped the remainder of their clothing to shreds. Her thin, barely-there pants were no match for his warrior’s body, and his soon failed against his pull.

For someone who is subjected to prejudiced persecution on a routine basis, Lady Kiera Darby is awfully judgey herself. Scoffing at and belittling Mr. Gage's ability without knowing him. Seems like she would be a more tolerant person. Just a side note: Kiera and Gage? This could be a YA romance with names like that.

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