I never thought I would said it. I may just have found the series that will replace A Song of Ice and Fire as my number one fantasy series. It feels slightly blasphemous to even say those words. As you may well know I've raved about A Song of Ice and Fire for years and years. I've yelped in delight when a friend has picked up the series and loved it as much as me. Forget what I've told you previously. You need to be reading the The Malazan Book of the Fallen by Steven Erikson. You need to give it a chance and just see how truly terrific fantasy is written. It's blown me away and I'm only two books into the series.
It almost feels like I'm cheating by admitting that The Malazan Book of the Fallen series is better than A Song of Ice and Fire, but you will soon see how it's captivated this reader. Come with me after the jump to see how to prepare yourself for the awesomeness which is Malazan. I warn you, once you enter this world there is no going back!
"I'm a mechanic; I fix things that are broken. I turn into a thrty-five pound coyote. I have powerful friends. But when it comes right down to it, my real superpower is chaos." Silence Fallen (Mercy Thompson #10) by Patricia Briggs
“Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" said Malfoy. "And he’s supposed to be our teacher!" Harry and Ron both made furious moves toward Malfoy, but Hermione got there first - SMACK! She had slapped Malfoy across the face with all the strength she could muster. Malfoy staggered. Harry, Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle stood flabbergasted as Hermione raised her hand again. "Don’t you dare call Hagrid pathetic you foul—you evil—" "Hermione!" said Ron weakly and he tried to grab her hand as she swung it back. "Get off Ron!" Hermione pulled out her wand. Malfoy stepped backward. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him for instructions, thoroughly bewildered. "C’mon," Malfoy muttered, and in a moment, all three of them had disappeared into the passageway to the dungeons. "Hermione!" Ron said again, sounding both stunned and impressed.
Hello again, Saucy Readers! I'm back again! This time with Biting Bad. It seems that, as we get closer to the end of the series, I have fewer questions and more observations. Biting Bad is actually only one part this time, unlike most of the others that have been two parts. It is a bit longer than some of the others, but it wasn't enough to break into two parts. Hit up our Chicagoland Vampires tag if you need to catch up! Keep reading, and know that spoilers abound, to see what I'd like to know from Biting Bad after the break!
Are you as obsessed with This is Us as we are, Saucy Readers? Several of us are head over heels in love with this show. That is what brings me here today. In addition to out of this world acting, there is some serious, Grade A man candy on this show. I am here today to share the love and to tell you to watch this show!! Seriously, it's the best. But, be prepared to have your heart wrenched at least once in every episode. Come with me after the break to see the sights!
Houses flashed past the window. Harry felt a great leap of excitement. He didn't know what he was going to--but it had to be better than what he was leaving behind. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone ~~J.K. Rowling
Hello hello hello, Saucy Readers! Here I am back again with part two of my House Rules questions. You can find part one here. Let's not waste anymore time and jump right in! Questions and spoilers after the jump!
If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's love for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign...to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone ~~J.K. Rowling
I collect clowns.
I’ve been collecting clown dolls for more than 30 years and really don’t
remember what inspired me to start the collection. Maybe it was the first time
I went to the circus as a child, watching these 2 “clumsy” clowns doing
acrobatics, making the audience laugh.
The most ancient
clowns have been found in the 5th dynasty of Egypt. Their role changed over time, but the art of clowning has existed for thousands of years.
I know that
today a lot of people think clowns are scary. The blame rests with characters like
Pennywise the clown from Stephen King’s book (and movie) It, or Twisty, that
disgraced clown from the TV series American Horror Story, and the likes. But I refuse to think
about those or acknowledge them.
I love the
funny, smiling faces of clowns. I try to find the ones that have something
extra for me, preferably artfully crafted. Their cheerfulness brightens my day
and lightens my heart. I look for them
everywhere, at every place I visit. I’d like to share with you just a few of my 250+
clowns, and tell you in a few words where and how I found them. I’ll also recommend a companion book that comes to mind
as I reminisce about each one’s origin and unique personality. I guess it is
also a kind of journey around the globe J.
He had no desire to
live in Europe anymore, America had welcomed him with open arms and he hoped
their constitution and ethnic mix would prevent any extreme political parties
taking power as they had in Russia and Germany.
“He was a better fighter than I was, but he wasn’t faster than me. Nor was he as motivated, and I think he underestimated me. He thought he was fighting a girl with a stick when he was fighting Adam’s mate, Coyote’s daughter, armed with Lugh’s staff.” ― Patricia Briggs, Fire Touched
One of the many dangers of being born royal - aside from death by boredom during her aunts' lessons - was the constant threat of abduction. As her mother was the queen of Alderaan and her father the queen's consort, to say they were wealthy and powerful was a vast understatement. When the seediest cretins came crawling out of the darkest corners of the galaxy looking for victims, Leia was a natural target for their greed. So despite feeling like there was something terribly unladylike about throwing large, sweaty men around on wrestling mats, her aunts agreed with her parents that self-defense needed to become part of her relentless princess training once she turned sixteen.
You know that book that's been sitting on your To Be Read list seemingly forever? That book is The Lions of Al-Rassan. A standalone fantasy book that's well worth checking out. This book made me cry, people. It's that good. It had all the elements that I love in an historical fantasy book — interesting characters, wonderful setting and captivating story. Come with me after the jump to see what I enjoyed about the story.
For the last few months, I’ve had a voracious hunger for harrowing post-apocalyptic dystopias. It’s one way of drowning out the din around me, or at least distracting myself, for a while. It can be maddening, inspiring, cathartic, and strangely soothing.
This was the genre I loved in high school and college, titles like 1984, Brave New World, Alas Babylon, Lucifer’s Hammer, and The Stand. They explored the best and worst of innumerable possible paths through devastation triggered by nuclear war, asteroids, toxic pollution, or aliens — leaving survivors to begin again without government, technology, and infrastructure, or to weather the rise of authoritarian, totalitarian, and fascist regimes. The latter was my least favorite post-apocalyptic theme.
I’ve been wanting to revisit my old favorites, but recently I’ve also needed a few stories that didn’t require great concentration and analysis. In other words, easy stuff that I didn’t have to think too hard about, where characters, action, and messages were not subtle.
After the jump, I’ll tell you about the stories that have kept me entertained.
I still think he looks beautiful in the moonlight, Ash said to me once, and I see it now. Perhaps everyone looks better in moonlight, but only Embry can look like this, like a decadent prince after the candles are snuffed, left alone with his regret and grief. Like an ancient statue, chipped and cracked and still the epitome of male beauty. Except with Embry, all the chips and cracks are on the inside, visible only in the icy flare of those blue eyes, the bitter twist of his lips when he thinks no one is looking. American Prince ~~Sierra Simone
“Let me explain how such a thing might occasionally happen,' Goebbels said. 'All during the twelve years of the Weimar Republic our people were virtually in jail. Now our party is in charge and they are free again. When a man has been in jail for twelve years and he is suddenly freed, in his joy he may do something irrational, perhaps even brutal. Is that not a possibility in your country also?' In the Garden of Beasts: Love, Terror, and an American Family in Hitler's Berlin by Erik Larson
The very best thing for me, as a reader, is when I go into a book doubtful that I will love it because of something that I know isn't my usual taste, but then I end up gobsmacked and loving it. Sierra Simone has done that for me three times now, and I absolutely love her for it. I read and loved the first in her American Queen trilogy last fall, which I told you about here. Because of the gasp-worthy cliffhanger I was eagerly awaiting the second installment, American Prince, and may or may not have squealed out loud when I was approved for an advance copy and it landed on my tablet. Saucy Readers, I loved this book. It was unlike anything I've read before, was not the kind of thing I thought would capture me, but it did. It grabbed me from the beginning and never let go. Come with me through the jump and I'll tell you why you need to be sure and catch up before the final installment in the trilogy, American King, releases in August. I'll keep the Prince spoilers to a bare minimum, but will assume you've read Queen. If you haven't, check out my review, read the book and then come back for this review.
“The Dimwit's Guide to the Female Mind might assist your efforts in understanding human females. But it must be pointed out that this subject can be a dangerous adventure and should be undertaken with extreme caution. After all, human males have been trying to understand their females for generations, and most of the time they come away from these encounters looking like someone stuck their tails into an electric socket.”
And it's so much responsibility, having this kind of power and control. The weight of someone's safety and catharsis. How does he do it? How does he hold that corner of his mind open for compassion and evaluation while he gives himself over to the monster inside? My monster has no corners, my monster has no compassion. He has only need. American Prince ~~Sierra Simone
This blog started over the Wenches shared love of Urban Fantasy books. We've grown and changed since then, but there are still a few UF series some of us read. The Mercy Thompson series, by Patricia Briggs, is one of them. I once wrote about my befuddlement at the fact that more people don't read this series, (read it here). I very much enjoy it. I was lucky enough to receive an advanced copy of the newest book, Silence Fallen. I'm here today to give you a (mostly) spoiler free review. Keep reading below to find out what I thought! PS: How badass is this cover? I LOVE IT!
“Things we had, like respect and trust, but also freely expressed desires and accountability to whatever degree it took to make both people happy. It took work, a willingness to fight passionately and fairly--out of bed, not just in it--commitment and honesty. It took waking up and saying each day, "I hold this man sacred and always will. He's my sun, moon, and stars." It took letting the other person in; a thing I'd stopped doing. It took being unafraid to ask for what you wanted, to put yourself on the line, to risk it all for love.” ― Karen Marie Moning, Feversong
American Prince, the highly-anticipated follow up to American Queen by Sierra Simone is coming March 7th!!
American Prince by Sierra Simone
Publication Date: March 7th, 2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover Designer: Hang Le
I’ve been many things.
I’ve been a son and a stepbrother. An Army captain and a Vice President.
But only with Him am I a prince. His little prince.
Only with Maxen and Greer does my world make sense, only between them can I find peace from the demons that haunt me. But men like me aren’t made to be happy. We don’t deserve it. And I should have known a love as sharp as ours could cut both ways.
My name is Embry Moore and I serve at the pleasure of the President of the United States…for now.
This is the story of an American Prince.
Ash opens his eyes and gives me a sleepy smile. It’s such an unfamiliar look on him, both the openness of it and the happiness, and I stare into his face, drinking it in like a man dying of thirst. After Carpathia, after Morgan, after me, after Jenny—I never could have believed that I would see Ash breathe and smile without all that torment suffocating him. Seeing it, if only for a few minutes, feels like some kind of gift, an unearned blessing. I reach out and trace his jaw, predictably already rough with stubble, and then run the pads of my fingers over his sleepy smile. “Is it morning?” he asks. My cock jumps again at the sound of his voice. It’s always a little rough around the edges, like someone took sandpaper to his words, but right after sleep, his voice is pure gravel, masculine and hungry. “Almost.” “Where is she?” She. Our Greer. Once again, I feel the hollow space in the bed where she should be, and I have a brief moment of amused anxiety, because if I can’t stand to be apart from her when she’s in the restroom, how on earth are the three of us going to survive the next two and a half years? Or shit—six and a half years if Ash gets re-elected? “She’s in the bathroom,” I say, trying to suppress this new awareness of how hard our future is going to be. “I just woke up.” Ash makes a noise in the back of his throat, and his hand moves on my stomach again. Moves down, sliding past my navel. My dick is hard now, hard and pulsing against the cool air. “I love it when you first wake up,” Ash tells me, his voice no longer sleepy but still graveled and rough. “Your eyes look darker with your pupils that wide, and your cheeks get flushed, and your body…” His wicked hand brushes over my crown, swollen and dusky in the dark. “Your body always looks so willing for whatever I want.” His hand closes over my shaft and squeezes, and I moan. “So willing,” Ash repeats in a murmur, and then I expect him to flip me over and push into me, but he doesn’t. Instead he lets go of my cock and climbs over me, lowering his heavy, hard body onto mine so that our cocks are pinned between our bare stomachs and our chests press together. His lips pass over mine, the slightest brush, and then he does it again, smiling as I tilt my face up greedily to catch his mouth in a real kiss. He teases me once or twice more, coaxing a frustrated whimper from somewhere deep inside me, and then he puts us out of our misery and lowers his mouth to mine, parting my lips with his and licking deep into my mouth. His kiss is slow, but possessive, and he drives the pace and the depth. I can barely breathe, he kisses me so deeply, but I don’t care. I don’t want to, don’t want any air that Ash himself hasn’t given me. After a few minutes of this, he pulls back slightly and then presses his forehead to mine. “Oh, Embry,” he says, his voice cracking. “How much I’ve missed you.” My chest cracks open along with his voice. “Will you ever forgive me?” I whisper. “For what?” It’s hard to speak the words, even in the dark. “For not marrying you.” His breath leaves him. “Embry…” “You can be honest with me,” I say, wanting to be his brave little prince. Just this once. “I deserve it.”
His hands frame my face as he pulls back to meet my eyes. “It will always hurt, Embry. I can’t pretend that it won’t. But surely you must know by now, and I’ve told you before…I’ll take you any way I can have you. If all you’ll give me is a few stolen nights, then that’s what I’ll take.”
A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley...He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter -- the boy who lived!" Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone ~~JK Rowling