Rites of Spring

Jun. 7th, 2025 09:54 am
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[personal profile] rolanni

What went before: So, I've read 108 out of a possible 197 manuscript pages. Will finish that tomorrow.

Otherwise, a Very Quiet day here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory (except Now, because Trooper is yelling for Happy Hour NEOW!). I am for some reason Just Exhausted, so it will be an early night hereabouts.

I watched "Rogue" last night from Dr. Who. The Doctor did look ever-so-tasty in his Regency duds, though I'm going to be very disappointed in him if he doesn't find the lad.

Hope everyone has had an enjoyable Friday.

Stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.

#

Saturday. Cloudy and cooler.

Slept late. Thinking about sleeping some more, but! Today is change-the-cat-boxes day, so -- duty first, then nap, if I'm still So Inclined.

It rained last night -- a lot -- and the 'beans are calling for more, off and on, during the day.

Tali and Rook did engage me before breakfast in a vigorous game of Spring, which presently goes like this:

1 Rook and Tali Gather Round, looking up at me Expectantly.

2 I Produce a Spring and show it to them.

3 They wriggle.

4 I throw the spring.

5 They chase it at turnpike speeds (Tali runs faster than Rook, but this isn't an advantage, as she often over-shoots the target).

6 Rook (usually) recovers the spring (if Tali manages to get to it first, he takes it away from her), and brings it back to me, so I can throw it again.

6a If Tali retains the spring, she bats it around until she loses it, then comes back to me, eyes wide, waiting for me to Produce a Spring. However!

6b The game ends when the spring is lost.

7 VARY: Rook hides the spring and then comes back to me, eyes wide. I go find it and throw it again. This Variation has a three-throw limit or ends when 6b is invoked.

So, that's the news from the Cat Farm. I note that this time last Saturday, I was driving twisty little roads through tidy Vermont towns in the Pouring! Down! Rain! and wondering if it just made more sense to pull over, buy a house, and never drive anywhere again.

What're y'all doing that's interesting, today?


It's morphogenesis

Jun. 7th, 2025 06:12 am
sovay: (Rotwang)
[personal profile] sovay
For the seventy-first yahrzeit of Alan Turing, I have been listening to selections from the galaxy-brained fusion of Michael Vegas Mussmann and Payton Millet's Alan Turing and the Queen of the Night (2025) as well as the glitterqueer mad science of Kele Fleming's "Turing Test" (2024). Every year I discover new art in his memory, like Frank Duffy's A lion for Alan Turing (2023). Lately I treasure it like spite. The best would be countries doing better by their queer and trans living than their honored and unnecessary dead.

SBTB 2025 Summer Romance Bingo

Jun. 7th, 2025 09:00 am
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Posted by Amanda

Our Summer Romance Bingo is back!

Beginning on the Summer Solstice, which falls on June 20th in the US and ending on September 22nd, right before the Autumnal Equinox, we invite you to play our 2025 Summer Romance Bingo.

Please save the image to use on your own! If you’d like to share on social media, please use the hashtag #SBTBingo so we can see how your card is coming along! Participants who complete at least one bingo are eligible for prizes, including stickers, swag, and a big ol’ box o’ books for one lucky winner or two.

The middle space is a free space, meaning any book will qualify there. Also, please use one book per space. No double dipping!

To submit your card, please fill out this form. Maximum of five entries per person!

Standard disclaimers apply: Void where prohibited. Must be over 18 and ready to read some excellent books. Open to international residents where permitted by applicable law.

The entry form will close September 23.

If you need clarification on any of the categories or want to crowdsource reading recommendations, feel free to ask or brainstorm in the comments section! Remember that bingo doesn’t kick off until June 20th, so don’t start reading qualifying books until then. 

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Posted by Tara Scott

A

The Woman from the Waves

by Roslyn Sinclair
June 5, 2025 · Lucky Opal Press
LGBTQIAScience Fiction/Fantasy

CW: Religious trauma, internalized homophobia

I don’t typically read romantasy. I haven’t jumped on any of the big titles, even though friends and family, including my husband, have read at least one. And yet, I had to read this one, because the author wrote my favourite book. I don’t make the rules in my brain, I just have to abide by them. I didn’t really know much going into this book except that there’s a water horse spirit and a nun, which was the perfect way for me to read it. Given that, I’m tempted to tell you all to just go read the book because it’s excellent, but you are here for a review. So if you trust me, please skip to the buy link. If you need more, let’s get into it.

Hæra is an Each-uisge, which means she’s part of an ocean-dwelling, shapeshifting herd of horse spirits. Her father is dead, her mother and brother hate her, she has no friends or allies, and she doesn’t want to become a broodmare, because their lives are truly terrible. Instead, she dreams of becoming the first female Stormhorse, flying in the sky to rain down thunder and lightning like her father did when he was alive. To achieve her dream, Hæra has to find a worthy human to drown and eat so she can take their strength into her body. She doesn’t have many years left before she’ll be forced into the brutal, endless breeding cycle, but luckily Hæra finds someone with great strength of character and just has to lure her in.

Sister Madeleine Laurent is visiting one of the less-well-travelled Orkney islands in Scotland when she hears her name being called. This leads to a confusing encounter where she thinks she drowned a horse only to nearly drown herself trying to save it. The course of her life is changed when she’s saved and kissed by a naked woman, who tells her to return.

Six years later, Madeleine is not a nun anymore and is back on the island, looking for answers about the guardian angel (or demon?) who saved her. When she meets Hæra North, daughter of the now-sober man who had drunkenly helped Madeleine after her angel had left her on the beach, Madeleine can no longer pretend to herself that she’s not a lesbian. And Hæra? Her Stormhorse dreams are closer to being achieved than ever, since the worthy woman she’d saved has come back to her. But can she bring herself to hurt someone who churns so many unfamiliar feelings within her?

Each character has a distinct and well-fleshed-out arc, which were my favourite aspects of the story. Hæra’s arc is about obsession, because she has a singular goal that she pursues with tenacity and eventually has to decide whether she wants it after all. After spending decades as an underwater predator, Hæra has to adapt enough to at least seem human, since she’s still an Each-uisge on the inside. She puts her six years between meeting Madeleine and re-meeting her to good use, learning human customs, mannerisms, and skills including how to read, so she can be better prepared to have good conversations with Madeleine and understand her before killing and eating her. Of course, it’s not so simple when they reunite.

My favourite part of Hæra’s journey is how she wrestles to understand the difference between hunger and love, because hunger is something she deeply understands as a predator. But love? Not so much. This is also what makes the romance work so well for me, because I was captivated by the way Hæra comes to understand what love is and what it means to her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the concept of love explored in quite this way and it makes all of the sense. She’s an Each-uisge trying to understand a specific person she feels a connection with, even though it’s because she initially wants to eat Madeleine (insert sex joke here).

For Madeleine, her arc is about finally choosing to live authentically and learning along the way what that means for her. We learn very early in the book that she’d joined the convent because she’d been alone and adrift, finding it a good place to hide from the world and from her unwanted attraction to other women. Making out with her angel/demon/beach saviour rips the bandage off the wound that is her internalized homophobia, kicking off a journey of self-discovery as she prepares and heads back to the Orkneys. Embracing authenticity isn’t easy for Madeleine, because it’s often painful to look at the parts of herself she’d kept locked away for decades.

Madeleine’s arc includes a thoughtful, in-depth interrogation of faith and its relationship to the self. Catholicism features so prominently that it almost feels like a side character, although I’m not sure I would call it a friend or a foe. I was especially struck when Madeleine’s conversations with Hæra invite her to consider whether the rigidity of Catholic tradition and doctrine serve her now or ever have. Even after years of therapy and healing, my mind was blown when Hæra tells her “If we don’t doubt or question what we’ve been told, we don’t learn. Haven’t you found that’s true?” In moments like this, I stepped back from the story to check in with myself, and I was pleasantly surprised each time to learn that I was okay. Instead of feeling uncomfortable, I was encouraged by Madeleine’s departure from a dogmatic, unquestioning place as she learns how to listen to the little voice within.

Speaking of religious trauma, if that’s something you have, especially from the Catholic church, you may not have the same positive experience I did. Frankly, if I hadn’t done as much therapy specific to religious trauma as I have, I’m not sure I would have had the same experience either. Madeleine’s internalized homophobia is bound up with her faith and what she was told about homosexuality by people she’d truly cared about, so challenging those narratives is often painful. I appreciated where the story leaves Madeleine’s relationship with the church and her beliefs, because it felt very real to my experience and reminiscent of what I’ve heard from friends who also live with religious trauma.

This is a book that got under my skin and left me flailing for a few days after I finished it. As much as I loved and believed in the romance, the character arcs and exploration of religious trauma stole the show for me. They gave my brain a lot to chew on and I’m going to need to read it at least a few more times to pull apart all the nuances, because there is just so much there. Even though it’s much longer than most books I read, topping out at around 560 pages, I could have read more, because I loved Madeleine and Hæra so much, from who they were at the beginning to who they are at the end.

Kickass Women in history: Claudia Jones

Jun. 7th, 2025 06:00 am
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Posted by Carrie S

This month’s Kickass Woman is Claudia Jones. Wielding a pen instead of a sword did not make this woman any less of a warrior, one who did battle in three countries in her short life and shared not only Black anger but also Black joy.

A balck and white photo of Claudia Jones, probably in her twenties, facing the camera with a huge smile, a bag over her shoulder and some kind of badge pinned to her lapel

Born in 1915, Claudia Vera Cumberbatch was born in Trinidad and Tobago, which was, at the time, a colony of Britain (it is now the Republic of Trinidad and Tobago, consisting of several Caribbean islands). When she was seven years old her parents left for the United States in search of employment.

Claudia joined them when she was nine. She was radicalized by witnessing and experiencing racial and economic injustice in New York. Her mother, a garment worker, died a few years later and her father lost his job in the Great Depression. As a result of poor living conditions and poor nutrition, Claudia developed tuberculosis which left her with permanent heart disease.

Claudia graduated from high school and began her activism career with organizing protests regarding the Scottsboro case. She joined the Communist Party in 1936.  She rose to a leadership position within the Communist Party of the United States of America, and was later jailed for her Communist beliefs in 1948. In 1955 she was deported and left for London.

The term “intersectionality” was not coined until 1989 by Kimberlé Crenshaw but Claudia was an early adopter of its principles. Her essay “An End to the Neglect of the Problems of the Negro Woman” in 1949 was a mission statement that expressed concepts Claudia would fight for all her life: that the fight for liberation must include gender and class as well as race:

A developing consciousness on the woman question today, therefore, must not fail to recognize that the Negro question in the United States is prior to, and not equal to, the woman question; that only to the extent that we fight all chauvinist expressions and actions as regards the Negro people and fight for the full equality of the Negro people, can women as a whole advance their struggle for equal rights.

For the progressive women’s movement, the Negro woman, who combines in her status the worker, the Negro, and the woman, is the vital link to this heightened political consciousness.

From the same essay:

No peace can be obtained if any women, especially those who are oppressed and impoverished, are left out of the conversation.

In London, Claudia quickly became a Communist Party leader and turned her attention to Caribbean immigrants. This was the era of the ‘Windrush Generation’ and immigrants struggled to access basic needs and rights. The Notting Hill Riots of 1959, where Black immigrants were attacked in their homes, further traumatized the Black community.

Jones in her London office at a desk that is covered with papers including an open newpaper. She is on the phone, pen in her fingers, in front of a typwriter.

Claudia looked to art in the face of violence. In the words of British Vogue:

A firm believer that “a people’s art is the genesis of their freedom”, she utilised the opportunity to uplift the community by celebrating its culture and heritage with the launch of a special showcase for Afro-Caribbean talent. Originally dubbed Claudia’s Caribbean Carnival, the first event took place at St Pancras Town Hall on 30 January 1959 and was televised by the BBC. The following six years would see the annual celebration staged in local town halls and community centres, where people would get together for a comparatively low-key version of the street extravaganza we indulge in today.

For the first few years the carnival’s motto was “A people’s art is the genesis of their freedom.”

As time passed Claudia’s Carnival became one of the inspirations for and precursors of the outdoor Notting Hill Carnival. It is now the second largest carnival in the world.

A black and white photo from the first carnival shows a crowd dressed up with, at center, a middle-aged Black woman in a white lace blouse, long gauzy skirt, and hat adorned with flowers and ribbons. Everyone is dancing and smiling.
Claudia’s Caribbean Carnival, 1959

Claudia’s impoverished youth and four imprisonments did terrible damage to her heart. She died of a heart attack at the age of 49, on Christmas Eve in 1964.

Her insistence that the rights of women, people in poverty, people of color, and immigrants all be upheld within the political Left, as well as without it, left a legacy of intersectionality that was ahead of its time.

Jones looks intense as she leans forward to speak into a standing microphone, plainly dressed with her hair in a tight bun. Elizabeth Gurley Flyn, an older white woman in glasses, sits behind her.
Speaking at a Communist Party Event in 194o’s. Elizabeth Gurley Flynn sits behind her.

Sources for more information:

University of Bristol

Britannica

British Vogue

Black Perspectives

Finally, time to write the book on you

Jun. 6th, 2025 10:37 pm
sovay: (PJ Harvey: crow)
[personal profile] sovay
As it turns out, what goes on with my hand is that it's going to have arthritis, but with any luck on the same glacial timeline as the kind that runs in my family, and in the meantime I have been referred back to OT. Maybe there will be more paraffin.

My parents as an unnecessary gift for taking care of the plants while they were out of town—mostly watering a lot of things in pots and digging the black swallow-wort out of the irises—gave me Eddie Muller's Dark City Dames: The Women Who Defined Film Noir (2001/2025), which not only fits the theme of this year's Noir City: Boston, but contains such useful gems as:

One of the most common, if wrong-headed, criticisms of film noir is that it relegates women to simplistic archetypes, making them Pollyannas or femmes fatales, drippy good girls or sinister sexpots. People who believe this nonsense have never seen a noir starring Ella Raines.

Ella Raines is indeed all that and a drum solo on top, but she is not a unique occurrence and I can only hope that people who have not been paying attention to Karen Burroughs Hannsberry or Imogen Sara Smith will listen to the Czar of Noir when he writes about its complicated women, because I am never going to have the platform to get this fact through people's heads and I am never going to let up on it, either.

Anyway, I learned a new vocabulary word.
[personal profile] solarbird

HEY! Any Nova Soctia bike or bike-supportive people – particularly in or near Halifax – here? Time to show up!

“Mayor Fillmore has called for a halt to all new cycling infrastructure, using “rationale” very similar to what Premier Doug Ford has used in Ontario to attack Toronto. There will be a vote on Tuesday.”

Deets saying what to do are on Mastodon. You don’t need an account to read it. Let him know what you think.

Posted via Solarbird{y|z|yz}, Collected.

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TACO, the good kind

Jun. 6th, 2025 03:17 pm
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[personal profile] chris_gerrib
So, you may have heard that the new nickname for Trump's tariff "policies" on Wall Street is "taco" = Trump Always Chickens Out. Comes news in the past hour or so that Abrego Garcia, the man wrongly imprisoned in El Salvador, is coming back to the US. I also see that he is to face charges of helping traffic 'thousands' of migrants.

Personally, I suspect the Trump Administration will no more be able to make these charges stick then they are capable of landing a man on Venus. However, I actually don't care. If Abrego Garcia did in fact traffic or smuggle illegal immigrants, then he should go to jail. What I DO care about is that he gets an actual trial, in front of an actual judge and and an actual jury. It's called Rule of Law and I'm for it.

So, I'm glad that today Trump chickened out.

(no subject)

Jun. 6th, 2025 09:53 am
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[personal profile] cahn
I know I owe a bunch of comments/replies, sorry, I will get to them; I have spent all my time this week (including time I should have been working... took a nontrivial amount of vacation time this week) on the following:

- looking around at schools for A in case his school gets utterly consumed by the drama (yep, third teacher did leave, now we are screwed unless the Head can find someone really quickly, which to be fair he is working SUPER hard at), unfortunately all my friends who have kids at the local public school were like "if it were ten years ago we'd recommend it, but now we are telling you not to go there"

- talking (and TALKING) to people who are affected by the drama, or who are not directly affected but still angry about the drama, or who are in some cases causing the drama. There is some mean girl stuff going on and it is like, uh, we are all in our 40's and 50's, this is STUPID?? I have been on the phone A LOT this week, to the extent that E has to write a poem for Spanish about a member of her family and told me she was thinking about writing about her mom and how she was on the phone all the time.

- helping E with her final papers/projects in English and Media Arts; for the latter she sometimes needs someone to say things like "if you are making a commercial you probably need a script for it" and for the former she needs someone to be more like, "so... your thesis is made up of two sentences that seem unrelated, and also the way you're structuring this with all your lemma examples and then all your other lemma examples does not really flow very well, and also you begin several sentences in a row with 'This shows'" (some of these are the limits of approaching a paper like a proof, I guess)

Her teacher lets them rewrite after grading multiple times but does not give them any comments on their draft except for the ungraded rough draft, which means that E is on Rewrite #3 and counting, we have worked on drafts every night this week except last night, as her teacher has not graded #3 yet, which I am hoping is a good sign but might just mean that her teacher is tired of her turning in rewrites

(I do like that her teacher is a bit harsh on grading but lets them rewrite -- Rewrite #3 is quite a bit better than her original graded paper, and I think she's learned a LOT about writing a literary analysis paper, admittedly quite a bit more than I knew at her age. But more feedback would have been really nice, and then maybe she could have done fewer rewrites.)

She also has another final project in English with involves writing and illustrating a kid's story about racism, only using animals or objects or shapes instead of people. Of course when "shapes" were mentioned E jumped at that option. Her story is really sweet and involves tessellations of triangles, squares, and hexagons, but she is definitely a "tell not show" kid and also is having trouble with the part of the assignment that directs them to use descriptive language, which just goes to show you that she is legitimately D's and my kid.

In conclusion: ugh, drama. The only good things about all the drama:

- I may actually finish the crochet blanket for E that I've been working on for uh two years but have been making lots of progress on during all these phone calls? (Also getting lots of time to work on it during tutoring E, but at least that has other good things about it besides the blanket.)

- man I appreciate the other non-dramatic parts of my life a LOT more now! Including DW and all of my non-dramatic friends (the vast majority of them!) but I've also been thinking a lot of my church which is my other big social structure. There was one day where I just looked at my phone texts I'd gotten that day and half of them were school-related and were all drama, and the other half were from my church and things like "Hey, can you play piano for us?" and "I haven't forgotten about the D&D group we were talking about with E!" <-- dude and wife had a BABY last week -- and my favorite, this sweet older lady that we are friends with texting me that she went to her eye appointment and they said everything was great, and she was just happy about that. That totally brightened my day <3 And this morning they had the "morning seminary" party (these kids go to 7am scripture study five days a week -- E does it 3 days a week) and these people just give SO much <3

(edited bc cannot do math)
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The Inheritance: The Rest of Chapter 7

Jun. 6th, 2025 02:09 pm
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Posted by Ilona

I crouched on a narrow stone ledge protruding above a vast cavern. Bear lay next to me gnawing on a stalker femur.

Long veins of luminescent crystal split the ceiling here and there and slid up the walls, glowing like overpowered lamps, diluting the darkness to a gentle twilight. My talent told me it was Fos stone, a breach mineral that shone like a flashlight. The biggest Fos stone I had seen until now was about the size of my fist.

 Two hundred and sixty-two feet below us, at the bottom of the cavern, enormous lianas climbed the stone wall, bearing giant flowers. Each blossom, shaped like a twisted cornucopia, sported a funnel at least ten feet across and fifteen feet deep, fringed by thick, persimmon-colored petals that glowed weakly with coral and yellow. It was as if a garden-variety trumpet vine had been thrown into the chasm and mutated out of control into a monstrous version of itself.

Strange beings moved along the cavern floor, clad in diaphanous pale robes. Their torsos seemed almost humanoid, but there was something oddly insectoid about their movements. They strode between the flowers, carrying long staves and pushing carts.

As I watched, one of them stopped at the opposite wall far below and tugged on the long green tendrils dripping from a large blossom. A spider the size of a small car slid from the flower. It was white and translucent, as if made of frosted glass.

The being checked it over, prodding it with a staff topped with a large chunk of colored glass or maybe a huge jewel. My talent couldn’t identify it from this distance. The spider waited like a docile pet. 

The being dipped a slender appendage into their cart, pulled out a glowing fuzzy sphere that looked like a giant dandelion, and tossed it to the spider. The monster arachnid caught it and slipped back into its flower.

The spider herder moved on to the next blossom.

It was surreal. I’d been watching them for about two hours and my mind still refused to come to terms with it. There were hundreds of flowers down there, and most of them held spiders. The herders had been clearly doing this for a long time – their movements were measured and routine, and they had made paths in the faintly glowing lichens sheathing the bottom of the cavern.

I was watching an alien civilization tend to its livestock.

“Do you know what this is, Bear? This is animal husbandry.”

Bear didn’t seem impressed.

If I had to herd spiders, this would certainly be a good place. From this angle, the cavern looked almost like a canyon, relatively narrow with steep, mostly sheer walls. They had a water source – the narrow ribbon of a shallow stream twisted along the cavern’s floor. I couldn’t see any other entrances, although there had to be some, probably far to the left, behind the cavern’s bend. If stalkers or other predators somehow invaded, they would be easy to bottleneck. It was an ideal, sheltered location except for one thing.

Another spider herder emerged from behind the bend on the left. My ledge ended only a few feet away on that side so I couldn’t quite see where they came from. This one was pushing a larger cart.

“Here we go,” I murmured to the Bear.

She flicked her ear.

The spider herder paused. Above them, about forty feet off the ground, a large blossom glowed with gold instead of red. The being raised their staff and leaped at the wall, clearing ten feet in a single jump. The spider herder climbed up the vine, shockingly fast, reached the flower, and thrust the staff into the blossom.

I glanced to the right. Across the cavern, a fissure split the wall near the ceiling, a crack in the solid stone about eight feet tall and five feet across at its widest.

Nothing moved. The fissure remained dark.

The spider herder swirled the staff as if scraping the pancake batter out of a bowl.

The fissure stayed still.

The spider herder pulled his staff out. Three dense clumps of spider silk hung suspended from the staff, glowing softly with cream-colored light. They were about the size of a beach ball.

A segmented body squeezed out of the fissure and dove, three pairs of translucent wings snapping open in flight. A wasp-like insect the size of a kayak zipped through the air, glinting with blue and yellow like a blue sapphire wrapped in gold filigree.

Bear jumped up and growled.

The spider herder saw the wasp and scrambled down, but not quickly enough. The giant insect divebombed across the cavern, hooked one of the spider eggs with its segmented legs, tearing it from the bundle, and shot up, buzzing along the wall into a U-turn. A moment and it squeezed back into the fissure, taking its prize with it.

The spider herder stared after it for a long moment, climbed down, and deposited the two remaining egg sacks into their cart.

I had seen a similar scenario play out hours ago, when I first found the cavern. I had backtracked since then, exploring as many of the tunnels around it as I could. All of them either dead-ended or led to a narrow, bottomless chasm that ran parallel to this cave. I returned to the ledge a while ago and have been sitting here since, observing and deciding how to proceed.

I closed my eyes and concentrated. The anchor was still straight ahead and to the left of me, radiating discomfort. I opened my eyes. I was looking right at the bend of the cavern.

If we wanted to get to the anchor, we would have to pass through this underground canyon. There was no way around it. Backtracking wasn’t an option. We were truly lost at this point.

Unfortunately, I had a feeling that the spider herders wouldn’t welcome our intrusion into their territory. 

Another wasp squeezed out of the gap and dove down, aiming for the cart. The spider herder let out a loud clicking sound. A green spider the size of a donkey raced around the bend of the cavern and leaped into the air, knocking the wasp into the wall. The insect and the arachnid tumbled down through the vines and rolled onto the floor. The wasp jabbed at the spider with a stinger the size of a sword, but the spider clung to it and sank its fangs into the wasp’s neck. The insect’s head fell to the ground.

The spider herder made another clicking noise. The green spider abandoned the wasp and scuttled over to the cart. The herder pulled out a glowing yellow globe and tossed it to the spider. The arachnid caught it and ran back around the bend.

“Look, Bear, your cousin from another dimension got a treat.”

Bear tilted her head.

The spider herder leveled their stave at the wasp’s body. A moment passed. A bolt of orange lightning tore out of the gem and struck the carcass. The insect sizzled and broke into dust.

The activation time was a bit long. The wasps would have no trouble evading, considering the delay it took to fire, but once the beam hit, the results were devastating.

If Bear and I strolled down there, assuming we somehow got down off the ledge, trying to make our way past the herders would be impossible. Between the green spiders and that orange lightning, we wouldn’t get through, not without some serious injuries.

I glanced at the fissure. There was a wasp nest behind it. Spiders were excellent wall climbers. Theoretically, the spider herders could mount a full assault against it, but there were three problems with that.

First, the fissure wasn’t wide enough. The wasps were long and narrow, and they folded their wings to get through. The white spiders would never fit. The green ones could try to squeeze in there, but they would have to enter one at a time, and the wasps would swarm them. 

Second, the wasps could take flight if they detected the assault and simply wait it out. The spiders couldn’t sit by that wasp nest indefinitely, and waiting by it exposed them to the aerial assault.

And third, the entirety of the wall around the nest was sheathed in mauve flowers. Toward the top, where my ledge met the fissure, the wall wasn’t strictly sheer. It broke down into a series of outcroppings, and the mauve flowers clung to the rocks like some deadly African violets. There was no way to approach the nest without going through them.

When one of the white spiders popped out of the highest flower, I had a chance to scan it. They were not immune to the pollen. It would short-circuit their nervous system. The spider herders and the wasps were at a standoff.

When I first stumbled onto the cavern, I got another vision. A group of three spider herders, their veils shifting in the wind of an alien world with a mass of giant spiders behind them; someone with human arms offering a carved wooden box to them; the leading spider herder accepting it; the spiders parting; and a single word spoken: Bekh-razz. A gift for the safe passage.

I would have to offer a gift to cross.

The spiders couldn’t get to the nest, but I could. The ledge I was on curved along the wall all the way to the nest. It was barely seven feet wide near the entrance to the hive. I wouldn’t have a lot of room to work with.

I got up and walked along the ledge toward the fissure.  

Bear dropped her bone and trotted after me. I halted by the first clump of mauve blossoms and flexed.

They glowed with pale lilac. I split the glow into individual layers of light blue and pink. The blue told me they were still mildly toxic to both me and Bear, but nothing our regeneration wouldn’t take care of, and the faint pink let me know that if properly processed, the plant could be used as contact analgesic. Made sense. That’s why we didn’t notice the effect pollen had on us until it was too late.

The wasps displayed hive behavior. I didn’t need a vision to clear that up for me.  It was obvious from their patterns. That meant that the moment I attacked the nest, every wasp would fight to the death to kill me. I had no idea how large that nest was. Or how many giant wasps waited inside. I had to be very sure, because once I started, there was no stopping. Earth wasps were vindictive, and it was safer to assume these would be, too. Even if I ran away, they would chase me through the caves and there was no passage narrow enough to lose them anywhere around this cave.

The nest rumbled.

I dropped to the ground. “Down.”

Bear hugged the ledge with me.

“Good girl,” I whispered.

A large wasp squeezed through the gap and took off, vanishing around the bend. 

I wonder how they know when the eggs are harvested? Do the eggs emit a pulse or something…

A hoarse shriek echoed through the cavern. That was new.

The wasp zipped back toward the nest, carrying another silk-wrapped spider egg in its claws. The egg glowed with coral pink. I flexed, focusing on it, but the wasp was too fast. Half a blink, and it squeezed into the nest.

I’d seen them steal three eggs besides this one, and nobody screamed the first three times. Also, the rest of the eggs glowed with cream, not pink. There was something special about this egg.

This was my best chance. I had to act now or find a different way.

I flicked my wrist, elongating the cuff into a sharp, two-foot blade shaped like a machete. Bear let out a soft, excited whine.

“Shhh.”

I padded through the flowers, my dog trailing me.

This was a foolish plan.

Ten yards to the nest.

Five.

Three.

Something rumbled within the fissure.

I cleared the distance between me and the gap in a single jump.

A wasp thrust out of the gap. I swung the blade and lopped its head off. The blue and yellow body crashed down, and I grabbed it with my left hand, yanked it out of the fissure, and sent it flying to the ground far below.

Bear broke into barks. There goes our element of surprise.

The entire nest buzzed like a tornado spinning into life. Another wasp shot through the fissure, and I cleaved it in half, my sword cutting through the segmented thorax like it was butter.

#

“Sir?”

Elias’ eyes snapped open. Leo hovered in his view.  Elias sat up.

“We found Jackson,” the XO said.

#

Two wasps tried to squeeze through the gap at the same time and got stuck one on top of the other. I twisted the sword into a spike, skewered the top one, because it was closer and let its dead weight push the second wasp down. It struggled, pinned to the ground, and I hacked at it. 

The buzzing was deafening now.  The walls of the fissure vibrated as the enraged hive mobilized for an all-out assault. Next to me Bear barked her head off, flinging spit into the air. She wasn’t just a dog, she was a guild K9, trained to alert when the breach monsters came near. The monsters were here, and she was alerting everyone.

I grabbed the body of the top wasp, pulled it out of the fissure, and hurled it over the edge.

#

“He’s been detained by the authorities in Japan.”

It took Elias a moment to process that tidbit. “On what pretext?”

“They claim he entered a luxury restaurant, ordered a high-quality cut of Wagyu beef, washed it down with Yamazaki Single Malt 55-Year-Old Whisky, which retails for 400K a bottle, and walked out without paying.”

“They’re saying he dined and dashed?”

Leo smiled. Technically, it was a smile, but it looked more like a predator baring his teeth.

#

Bodies clogged the fissure, drenched in hemolymph. I stabbed and hacked into the pile up, yanking chunks of the insects out.

Seven wasps.

Eight.

Twelve.

#

“Jackson? The vegetarian who drinks one beer a year and only under duress?”

“Yes, sir. Our Jackson.”

Elias hid a growl. It was a retaliation for Yosuke.

Two years ago, a star Void Ronin, a top tier Talent, had a falling out with the largest guild in Japan and quit. They blacklisted him. No other guild in the country would hire him. The idea was that the pressure of unemployment would force him to crawl back home. Yosuke called their bluff. Cold Chaos welcomed him into the fold eighteen months ago. He was enroute to Elmwood now from another gate and was due to arrive tomorrow.

Publicly, Hikari no Ryu said nothing. Privately, the guild wielded a lot of power in Japan, and they were pissed. Elias thought that they reached an understanding regarding this matter. Apparently, he was mistaken. It didn’t matter. Elias had never regretted the decision, and he wasn’t about to start now.

“Have they made any demands?” he asked.

“No. Most likely they will hold him and wait for us to come to them.”

Guild politics were convoluted and cutthroat. It didn’t matter which continent. Elias had dealt with worse nonsense stateside plenty of times. But there was an unspoken rule all guilds followed – healers were exempt from all of the political bullshit. They were off limits. You didn’t poach them, you didn’t threaten them, and you didn’t retaliate against them. They chose who they worked for, and if you got a good one, you did everything you could to keep them.

Someone in Japan had just crossed a very dangerous line.

“How would you like to proceed?” Leo asked.

“I’ll make some calls.”

#

The nest lay silent.

Bear was still barking.

“Quiet.”

The shepherd clamped her mouth shut. I listened for the buzzing.

Nothing.

“Stay, Bear. Stay. Stay!”

Bear sat down.

I’d killed twelve smaller wasps, probably workers, and five larger wasps, probably guards. Back home wasp colonies had a queen. She was usually larger than the workers and the guards, and if that held true here, she was trapped within the nest.

I slipped into the fissure, moving slowly and quietly. It was about ten feet deep. Beyond that, the passage widened into another cave chamber steeped in gloom and dappled with pools of pale light coming from above. I flexed. One hundred and twelve yards to the other wall. A lot of open space, and the floor was unnaturally clear. The wasps must’ve removed all of the debris that originally littered the chamber. Once I exited the fissure, I would be exposed.

A step.

Another.

A whisper of something large shifting its weight on the right, just outside the passageway.  I had expected the wasp to strike from above, but it sounded like it was on the ground instead.

I stopped, poised on my toes. My fingers trembled. Fear filled me. I was overflowing with it.

Another faint whisper. The wasp was waiting just feet away, ready to ambush me the moment I entered. I had to rely on speed.

I darted into the nest, angling to the left. A shadow fell over me and I dove forward, rolled, and came back to my feet.

A massive wasp bore down on me. It was as big as a bus, riding on six huge, segmented legs, each armed with two chitin claws the size of sickles.

Crap.

The wasp charged me. It wasn’t flying. It ran across the floor, straight at me, swiping at me with its terrible claws. I darted back and forth like a terrified rabbit.

Right, left, left, too many fucking legs, right…

The wasp swiped at me like a hockey player armed with deadly scythes. It was trying to skewer me and drag me to its terrible mouth where two sets of sharp mandibles would shred the flesh off my bones and rip me apart.

The world shrank to the stone floor of the cavern, the pools of light, and the horrible creature behind me. All my instincts screamed in panic. I had to run away. I had to run from this thing back through the fissure, but I couldn’t find it. The walls were a dizzying whirlwind.

 I was out of breath. I was disoriented. I couldn’t even think long enough to come up with a plan. All I could do was run for my life. Running wouldn’t work for too much longer. I would die here, in this nest.  

Something dark and shaggy shot out of the wall. Before my brain processed what it was, Bear charged at the wasp.

“No! Bear, no!”

The German Shepherd clamped her jaws on one of the wasp’s middle legs. The insect shook it and flung Bear off.

“No!”

One of the wasp’s legs sliced like a scythe. I saw it coming. I had stopped running because of Bear and now it was too late. I jerked back, but not fast enough. The blow swept me off my feet. I rolled across the floor, pain smashing into my side. The wasp reared above me. Its front leg came down like a hammer. One of the two claws pierced my right thigh, scraping the bone.

Bear leaped out from the side and bit the leg impaling me. The wasp queen didn’t even notice. The other claw clamped on my other leg. The ragged chitin sank into my flesh. I felt myself being lifted, up to where the horrible mandibles clicked.

No.

I sliced at the wasp leg pinning me. My sword cut through chitin like it was a twig. The wasp recoiled. I yanked the severed stump out of my thigh and rolled to my feet.

Fuck this shit. Why the hell was I running?

Bear snarled next to me.

The wasp swiped at me with its uninjured front leg. It was huge and fast, but I was faster. I leaned out of the way. The leg carved through the spot where I had been. The wasp swiped again, and I stepped back again, just out of reach.

Strike, dodge. Strike, dodge. It couldn’t touch me.

I flexed, stretching time like a rubber band, forcing my senses into overdrive. The uninjured front leg struck at me, slow like molasses. I cut it, dashed under the wasp, severing the other legs with quick strikes as I sprinted past, and emerged behind the monster insect. A second and it was over. The world restarted, and the queen crashed to the floor, the stumps of her legs jerking in wild spasms.

Bear howled.

I took a running start and jumped. My leap carried me through the air, and I landed on the queen’s fat abdomen and dashed toward her head.

The queen’s huge wings stirred. It was trying to fly.

I slipped on the narrow waist connecting the abdomen and thorax, caught myself, leaped onto the thorax, and scrambled onto her neck.

The wings hummed and blurred like the blades of a helicopter. A gust of wind buffeted me.

I drove my sword into the queen’s neck. It sank through, and I ripped it to the side, carving through the exoskeleton. The queen’s head drooped, and I chopped at the thin filament connecting it to the body.

The head crashed down.

The wings kept going. The headless body rose in the air, carrying me with it. I clung to it. The wasp corpse climbed twenty feet up…

The wings slowed.

The body fell slowly, careened, and landed in a heap. I jumped, rolled to break my fall, and came up in a crouch.

The queen was dead.

#

Elias put away his phone.

“Nice.” Leo grinned.

“They wanted a fight. We gave them a fight.”

All they had to do now was wait.

The post The Inheritance: The Rest of Chapter 7 first appeared on ILONA ANDREWS.

Mostly Kindle Daily Deals!

Jun. 6th, 2025 03:30 pm
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Posted by Amanda

The Secret Lives of Country Gentlemen

RECOMMENDED: The Secret Lives of Country Gentleman by KJ Charles is $1.99 and a KDD! Carrie gave this one a B+:

The strengths of this book are in the balancing of conflict with humor and optimism, the rich characterizations, and the portrayal of life on the marsh, as well as a romance between two opposites. It’s entertaining, exciting, and immersive. While I wanted a little more from the ending, I enjoyed this book overall!

Abandoned by his father, Gareth Inglis grew up lonely, prickly, and well-used to disappointment. Still, he longs for a connection. When he meets a charming stranger, he falls head over heels—until everything goes wrong and he’s left alone again. Then Gareth’s father dies, turning the shabby London clerk into Sir Gareth, with a grand house on the remote Romney Marsh and a family he doesn’t know.

The Marsh is another world, a strange, empty place notorious for its ruthless gangs of smugglers. And one of them is dangerously familiar…

Joss Doomsday has run the Doomsday smuggling clan since he was a boy. When the new baronet—his old lover—agrees to testify against Joss’s sister, Joss acts fast to stop him. Their reunion is anything but happy, yet after the dust settles, neither can stay away. Soon, all Joss and Gareth want is the chance to be together. But the bleak, bare Marsh holds deadly secrets. And when Gareth finds himself threatened from every side, the gentleman and the smuggler must trust one another not just with their hearts, but with their lives.

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You can find ordering info for this book here.

 

 

 

The Friend Zone

The Friend Zone by Kristen Callihan is $1.99! It’s also a Kindle Daily Deal. We have book one on sale earlier this week; this is book two. If you’re looking to collect the whole series, snap this one up.

Gray doesn’t make friends with women. He has sex with them. Until Ivy.

The last thing star tight-end Gray Grayson wants to do is drive his agent’s daughter’s bubblegum pink car. But he needs the wheels and she’s studying abroad. Something he explains when she sends him an irate text to let him know exactly how much pain she’ll put him in if he crashes her beloved ride. Before he knows it, Ivy Mackenzie has become his best texting bud. But then Ivy comes home and everything goes haywire. Because the only thing Gray can think of is being with Ivy.

Ivy doesn’t have sex with friends. Especially not with a certain football player. No matter how hot he makes her…

Gray drives Ivy crazy. He’s irreverent, sex on a stick, and completely off limits. Because, Ivy has one golden rule: never get involved with one of her father’s clients. A rule that’s proving harder to keep now that Gray is doing his best to seduce her. Her best friend is fast becoming the most irresistible guy she’s ever met.

Which means Gray is going to have to use all his skills to win Ivy’s heart. Game on.

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You can find ordering info for this book here.

 

 

 

A Deadly Inside Scoop

A Deadly Inside Scoop by Abby Collette is $1.99 and the last of the KDDs on the list! This is book one in a cozy mystery series where the heroine works in her family’s ice cream parlor.

This book kicks off a charming cozy mystery series set in an ice cream shop–with a fabulous cast of quirky characters.

Recent MBA grad Bronwyn Crewse has just taken over her family’s ice cream shop in Chagrin Falls, Ohio, and she’s going back to basics. Wyn is renovating Crewse Creamery to restore its former glory, and filling the menu with delicious, homemade ice cream flavors—many from her grandmother’s original recipes. But unexpected construction delays mean she misses the summer season, and the shop has a literal cold opening: the day she opens her doors an early first snow descends on the village and keeps the customers away.

To make matters worse, that evening, Wyn finds a body in the snow, and it turns out the dead man was a grifter with an old feud with the Crewse family. Soon, Wyn’s father is implicated in his death. It’s not easy to juggle a new-to-her business while solving a crime, but Wyn is determined to do it. With the help of her quirky best friends and her tight-knit family, she’ll catch the ice cold killer before she has a meltdown . . .

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You can find ordering info for this book here.

 

 

 

A Lady’s Guide to London

A Lady’s Guide to London by Faye Delacour is $2.51 at Amazon and $2.99 elsewhere. This is book two in the Lucky Ladies of London series and features an enemies to lovers, grumpy/sunshine romance.

An enemies-to-lovers historical romantic comedy between a grumpy Viscount with a rocky reputation and a bright-as-sunshine heiress determined to make something of herself, perfect for fans of Evie Dunmore, India Holton and Bridgerton.

If he won’t add her business into his guidebook, she’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse.

Della Danby is determined to prove she’s more than just a flighty heiress riding on her parents’ money to get through life. When her closest friend and business partner finds her hands full with a new baby, Della takes the opportunity to shoulder more responsibility at their ladies’ gambling club and secure their financial stability, and she has the perfect to drum up new business by adding their club to a popular guidebook of local attractions.

Gambling ruined Viscount Lyman Ashton’s life and his marriage. He has no intention of putting a new club in his guide, nor of getting involved with its intriguing and energetic proprietress. But when Della refuses to take no for an answer and approaches his publisher with a plan to write her own book of attractions for ladies, Lyman reluctantly agrees to collaborate with her in exchange for the money he so desperately needs to pay his debts. As they grow closer, Lyman finds himself falling for Della even though his past could jeopardize her reputation. But if they can ever have a future together, Della may have to choose between the club she’s worked so hard to build and her chance at love.

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You can find ordering info for this book here.

 

 

 

PSA

Jun. 6th, 2025 09:35 am
yhlee: Alto clef and whole note (middle C). (Default)
[personal profile] yhlee
I'm on hiatus here generally; if you've emailed me and haven't heard back, I'm triaging due to work/other commitments. (In one case, there's someone with, I think, a name starting with C who emailed me a lovely note the week after my concussion and I can't find the email; I'm convinced I accidentally concussedly deleted it because my hand-eye/focus were so shot I kept hitting random keys; if that's you, I'm very sorry!) I will try to catch up when work/life permit. :]
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Posted by Heather Rose Jones

Friday, June 6, 2025 - 07:00

The concluding chapter of Boag's book on cross-dressers on the American frontier uses the case study of Joseph (Lucy) Lobdell to illustrate how stories of gender-crossing began being turned into stories of psychological illness. Lobdell was right on the cusp: considered a "curiosity" at first but then pathologized. (Though it doesn't help that Lobdell seems to have suffered from genuine mental illness, separate from their gender and sexuality.)

Tomorrow I start with a run of shorter articles, though it turns out that several of them repeat information covered in more detail elsewhere.

Major category: 
Full citation: 

Boag, Peter. 2011. Re-Dressing America's Frontier Past. University of California Press, Berkeley. ISBN 978-0-520-27062-6

Chapter 5 – “Death of a Modern Diana”: Sexologists, Cross-Dressers, and the Heteronormalization of the American Frontier

Our kick-off biography for this chapter is a long, convoluted story about expert hunter and frontiersman Joseph Lobdell, who left home in New York in 1855 for the wilds of Minnesota. Lobdell was famed for his hunting and well-liked, until by chance it was discovered he had a female body. His Minnesota neighbors took this badly and shipped him back to New York. But Lobdell had been running ahead of discovery before, and had even published a feminist treatise under his birth name, Lucy Ann Lobdell, complaining of an abusive husband, of the wage discrimination faced by women, and arguing that if women were being forced to step up to be the primary support of their families, then society should accommodate them.

[Note: Lobdell’s story shows the difficulty in trying to apply modern identity labels to historic individuals. While Lobdell lived most of his adult life as a man, the autobiographical treatise not only was written under a female name, but from a female social identity—very emphatically.]

After returning to New York, Lobdell continued living as a man and became a music and dance teacher. At one point he became engaged to one of his female pupils, but a rival suitor dug up Lobdell’s background and was planning a tar-and-feather party. The fiancée got wind of this and warned Lobdell and he was on the run again. Ill health led Lobdell to return to a female identity in order to live in a charity house.

In the same area, one Marie Louise Perry, abandoned by the unsuitable lover she had eloped with (though additional details are confused and conflicting) also ended up in the same charitable institution. Perry and Lobdell took a shine to each other and left the institution together in 1869, found a preacher to marry them, and started an itinerant, somewhat feral lifestyle with Lobdell hunting and doing odd jobs as they tried to live off the land. They spent several stints in jail for vagrancy or more nebulous charges, with Lobdell’s sex being a point of contention when discovered. Despite a mistaken report of Lobdell’s death, he ended up in an insane asylum in 1880 due to what appears to be genuine mental illness (depression and dementia), but exacerbated by attitudes toward his gender presentation.

Various dates for his eventual death in the asylum are given, ranging from 1885 to 1912. After Lobdell’s commitment, his wife continued to live on their farm for a while, then returned to Massachusetts until her death in 1890. A newspaper interviewed her about her “strange” relationship with Lobdell, at which she argued that there was nothing strange in two women living together. [Note: Once again complicating the question of Lobdell’s gender identity.]

The doctor who treated Lobdell in the asylum wrote him up as a case study in “sexual perversion,” referring to his relationship with Perry as “lesbian”—one of the earliest American case studies in the sexological tradition. Lobdell claimed at one point that he had “peculiar organs” that supported his claim to male identity. [Note: There’s no suggestion in the book that Lobdell might have been intersex, although that is mentioned in the context of an entirely different case study.] The doctor took this at face value and recorded it as the mythic “lesbian with enlarged, penetrative clitoris” which has haunted the historic record. The doctor drew connections between Lobdell’s mental illness and his sexual inversion in support of the theory that inversion could be a byproduct of some other medical or psychological misfortune (in contrast to another theory that inversion was always congenital).

When originally documented, Lobdell’s case was considered an anomaly. But as sexologists identified increasing numbers of cases in the 1890s, they concluded that some historical force was causing a rise in perversion. [Note: As opposed to the possibility that, having discovered the hammer, they were now going around identifying lots of objects as nail-like.] This just happened to coincide with the era when people were declaring the end of the Western frontier. It was—they concluded—the passing of the West that was generating a wave of sexual inversion. By this means, they could neatly erase the presence of queer people from the West itself by claiming that sexual inversion only arose as the West disappeared.

The chapter spends some time exploring the connections the sexologists made between inversion, “degeneracy” in both a moral and eugenicist sense, and the alleged decline of western civilization (primarily in the context of Europe). This image of degeneracy was in contrast to American ideals of progress and expansion. Sexual degeneracy might be contributing to the fall of Old World civilization, but America could stand firm and hold the moral line, thus avoiding the same fate.

Vigorous rural manual labor was the way to avoid the enervating effects of urban life that led people to the neurasthenia that caused inversion and other ills. (I’m doing some serious condensation of this discussion.) “Urban” life was also a dog whistle for immigrants, non-white communities, and the working class, all of whom were potentially susceptible to degeneracy. The frontier, the outdoors, (and whiteness) were the cure for these ills!

Conclusion—Sierra Flats and Haunted Valleys: Cross-Dressers and the Contested Terrain of America’s Frontier Past

This brief chapter sums up the main themes of the book, tying them together with examples of mid-19th century fiction (e.g., by Bret Harte) that reflect reality more than the later mythologizing Western fiction that erased queerness entirely.

Time period: 
Place: 

Numamushi by Mina Ikemoto Ghosh

Jun. 6th, 2025 09:09 am
james_davis_nicoll: (Default)
[personal profile] james_davis_nicoll


A foundling boy raised by a great snake becomes intrigued by a reclusive calligrapher living near the river snake and boy call home.

Numamushi by Mina Ikemoto Ghosh

June 2025 Queer Romances

Jun. 6th, 2025 08:00 am
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Posted by Dahlia Adler

Happy Pride Month, party people! You know the best way to celebrate (outside of fighting for basic civil rights)? You guessed it — buying and reading queer books! Here are some great places to start with new June reads!

Ready to Score

Ready to Score by Jodie Slaughter

Author: Jodie Slaughter
Released: June 3, 2025 by St. Martin's Griffin
Genre: , ,

Cleat Cute meets Friday Night Lights in this funny, spicy, emotional new sapphic romance from Jodie Slaughter.

Jade Dunn has spent years trying to climb her way to the top of the southern high school football food chain. Now, the only thing standing between her and that future head coach spot is years of small-town good ‘ol boy politics. When she scores an invite to a highly coveted monthly poker game perfect for networking, she jumps at the chance for a seat at the table. Only to find the one person with the ability to shake her there. An infuriatingly sexy art teacher who plays her cards like she’s gunning for Jade’s deserved spot.

Francesca Lim never thought she’d be happy in a small town, not after living and breathing hardcore Texas football her whole life. But two years ago, the promise of forever love had her leaving behind a burgeoning coaching career for a new life – only for it to burst into flames. Now, she has a chance to gain back a piece of her life she thought she’d left in Houston. The only one standing in the way? The prickly assistant coach that Francesca can’t keep her mind or hands off of.

Not wanting to risk losing out on a dream job, Jade and Francesca can’t afford to give in to the iron hot attraction that simmers beneath their biting interactions, so they try desperately to ignore it. Too bad their hearts don’t seem to be as on board with the game plan.

Jodie Slaughter’s Ready to Score shows how sometimes you have to go big or go home to get the life – and love – you deserve.

The “rivals to lovers” element of Slaughter’s newest hits hard right off the bat, and damn if I didn’t love that the central conflict was between two (smokin’ hot, extremely mutually attracted) women who are both passionate about coaching football. Grab this one immediately if you love sparks flying in all directions, sports romance, and some serious steam.

Add to Goodreads To-Read List →

Winging It With You

Winging It With You by Chip Pons

Author: Chip Pons
Released: June 10, 2025 by G.P. Putnam's Sons
Genre: , ,

Popular bookstagrammer Chip Pons’s gay rom-com about two men who impulsively pose as a couple to compete in a reality show contest just minutes after meeting at an airport, and their run-in with the very real feelings that start to simmer between them.

Catching flights…& feelings…has never been more complicated.

Asher Bennet thought his relationship was just fine. Until he’s unceremoniously dumped at the Boston airport ahead of the world-wide travel competition reality show, The Epic Trek. Armed with only a ticket and righteous indignation, Asher finds the closest solace he can: a mimosa and mozzarella sticks combo at an airport TGI Fridays. Still, Asher is determined to find a new partner and luckily, right in front of him is a smooth-talking airline pilot ready for takeoff.

Theo Fernandez has been grounded. He’s the only pilot that has never taken a vacation and the edict has been passed prove you’re prioritizing a work-life balance or say goodbye to your wings. As he struggles to bask in his new downtime, without reconnecting with his family, he stumbles upon the perfect opportunity. The handsome guy who “stole” his mozzarella sticks at his favorite terminal eatery has a sudden opening for a partner . . . on a nationally televised reality show.

Theo and Asher buckle up to fake date for the cameras, but as they do the undercurrents of attraction make them wonder if their on-screen chemistry hints at something bigger. Do they have the courage to leave behind their baggage, and wing it together for another chance at love?

As a big fan of both travel and competitive reality TV, this fun and sexy read gets major extra points for taking fake dating around the world. The chemistry is legit, and I absolutely would’ve shipped #Thasher as a viewer.

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Backhanded Compliments

Backhanded Compliments by Katie Chandler

Author: Katie Chandler
Released: June 10, 2025 by Atria Books
Genre: , ,

A steamy sapphic romance with a fantastical twist about two bitter tennis rivals who realize they are reluctant soulmates—perfect for fans of Expiration Dates and Here We Go Again.

Juliette Ricci dreams of only one being the best women’s tennis player in the world. She’s worked nonstop with her strict father/coach to prepare for her big chance in the Australian Open. Unfortunately, she’ll be playing Lucky Luca Kacic, an aloof player whose unorthodox style and reigning popularity deeply irritate Juliette.

For months they’ve traded sly insults in their press conferences leading up to their showdown on the court, and their first ever match is the most anticipated of the season. But Juliette refuses to let her nerves—or Luca’s annoyingly perfect abs—get the best of her.

Meanwhile, Luca seemingly has everything Juliette desires but there’s one thing missing from her love. When she shakes hands with Juliette after an agonizing match and sees her rival’s name appear on her wrist, it feels like a cruel joke. Juliette is a spoiled, arrogant brat who wants absolutely nothing to do with Luca or a soulmate.

But despite their personal and professional clashes, the two grow closer after late-night massages and one too many shots of limoncello. Their chemistry is tangible, but Luca’s anxiety tells her that Juliette is just messing with her head to throw her off her game, and Juliette can’t understand why Luca is so hot and cold. With the pressure of the world scrutinizing their every move, they will have to decide what’s more important—being together or being number one.

A speculative sports romance usually brings to mind a fantastical feat of athleticism, but in this case, it marries the soulmate trope with very real professional tennis for something I haven’t seen before. I loved that there was approximately one American in this entire book (our heroines are Croatian and Italian), and I wanted spinoffs for every single secondary character, so I will definitely be keeping an eye on this debut author!

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A Rare Find

A Rare Find by Joanna Lowell

Author: Joanna Lowell
Released: June 10, 2025 by Berkley
Genre: , ,

When an aspiring archaeologist teams up with her childhood enemy for a treasure hunt, they find it impossible to bury their growing feelings, in a charming queer historical romance from the author of A Shore Thing.

Elfreda Marsden has finally made a major discovery—an ancient amulet proving the Viking army camped on her family’s estate. Too bad her nemesis is back from London, freshly exiled after a scandal and ready to wreak havoc on her life. Georgie Redmayne is everything Elfreda isn’t–charming, popular, carefree, distractingly attractive, and bored to death by the countryside. When the two collide (literally), the amulet is lost, and with it, Elfreda’s big chance to lead a proper excavation. Now Elfreda needs new evidence of medieval activity, and Georgie needs money to escape the doldrums of Derbyshire. Joining forces to locate a hidden hoard of Viking gold is the best chance for them both.

Marsdens and Redmaynes don’t get along, and that’s the least of the reasons these enemies can’t dream of something more. But as the quest takes them on unexpected adventures, sparks of attraction ignite a feeling increasingly difficult to identify as hatred. It’s far too risky to explore. And far too tempting to resist. Elfreda and Georgie soon find that the real treasure comes with a steep price… and the promise of a happiness beyond all measure.

After my deep love for A Shore Thing, I’ll read any queer historical romance Lowell wants to throw my way. But add in a treasure hunt?? I am the most sold I have ever been sold.

Add to Goodreads To-Read List →

Holly Jolly July

Holly Jolly July by Lindsay Maple

Author: Lindsay Maple
Released: June 17, 2025 by Canary Street Press
Genre: , ,

“We want to wrap this book up with a bow and leave it under everyone’s tree this year. Lindsay Maple delivers a confection of holiday charm, small town quirk, tenderly sketched characters, and scorching heat.” —Julie Murphy and Sierra Simone, USA TODAY bestselling authors of A Merry Little Meet Cute

It’s the hottest Christmas on record…

Like naughty and nice, Mariah and Ellie are complete opposites. Small-time actress Ellie is thrilled to be back on set of a cozy holiday film, while makeup artist Mariah only views the low-budget project as a stepping stone on her way to more serious movies. The pair definitely don’t hit it off when they’re introduced, but if they want to survive the summer heat—and Mariah’s stifling Canadian hometown—they’ve got to keep it professional. Luckily, holiday cheer is Ellie’s specialty, and she’s determined to win stubborn Mariah over.

Mariah finds one bright spot in her forced second Christmas: hot hookups with an edgy local bartender. The romance even has her opening up to Ellie—who admits to crushing on her wholesome cottage-rental host. But when Ellie and Mariah realize the guys are cheating on them, they band together to get revenge. It’s fun planning their own Home Alone–inspired pranks…until Ellie and Mariah realize they’re actually falling for each other.

But the film shoot is too short to get serious, so they’ll have to decide: Was their romance simply a holiday fling or a real Christmas-in-July miracle?

“Full of hilarious hijinks and tenderness in equal measure, this holiday romance had me flipping the pages late into the cozy night. Come for the revenge, stay for the true love.” —Ashley Herring Blake, USA TODAY Bestselling Author of Delilah Green Doesn’t Care

Hands-down one of the things I’m most frequently asked to recommend are books where women band together to get revenge on a guy but fall for each other instead, so my eyes already lit up as soon as I saw that trope. Add in a fun “Christmas in July” element and this looks like the perfect beach read!

Add to Goodreads To-Read List →

[syndicated profile] smartbitches_feed

Posted by SB Sarah

I Shouldn’t Be Telling You This: (But I’m Going to Anyway)
A | BN | K | AB
 One of Chelsea Devantez’s listeners connected her to my show after my interview with Joanna Shupe.

Meanwhile I’d been working up the nerve to ask her onto my show, and then the universe intervened through this lovely person. Thank you!

I recapped Danielle Steel’s dog memoir on her show, and now, she’s in the guest chair on mine.

We talk about her memoir, I Shouldn’t Be Telling You This (But I’m Going to Anyway), which was published last summer. Along the way we discuss embracing vulnerability, hating small talk, and avoiding it by…writing a memoir!  We also examine how the Depp/Heard case affected the final version of that memoir. Chelsea’s book is bookended by her own story of intimate partner violence, and much of it was redacted, as we discuss in this interview.

CW/TW: throughout this episode, we talk about domestic violence, intimate partner violence, infertility, donor conceived children and adults, the infertility industry, drive by shootings, shame, and mental health.

“Not talking is never the answer. Just talk about it.”

 

Listen to the podcast →
Read the transcript →

Here are the books we discuss in this podcast:

You can find Chelsea Devantez on her podcast, Glamorous Trash,  and she’s on Instagram @ChelseaDevantez, with a second account for her podcast, @GlamorousTrashPodcast.

You can find me on Chelsea’s podcast in the episode where we discuss Danielle Steel’s dog memoir, Pure Joy.

Len Pennie, the guest on Episode 612. Poetry in Scots with Len Pennie, recently won the Discover Book of the Year award at the 35 British Book Awards. Her acceptance speech is terrific.

Music: purple-planet.com

If you like the podcast, you can subscribe to our feed, or find us at iTunes. You can also find us on Stitcher, and Spotify, too. We also have a cool page for the podcast on iTunes.

More ways to sponsor:

Sponsor us through Patreon! (What is Patreon?)

What did you think of today's episode? Got ideas? Suggestions? You can talk to us on the blog entries for the podcast or talk to us on Facebook if that's where you hang out online. You can email us at sbjpodcast@gmail.com or you can call and leave us a message at our Google voice number: 201-371-3272. Please don't forget to give us a name and where you're calling from so we can work your message into an upcoming podcast.

Thanks for listening!

Remember to subscribe to our podcast feed, find us on iTunes or on Stitcher.
[personal profile] solarbird

ooooooookay so

loooooong time ago I did a lot of work on a CSS overlay for Dreamwidth’s Neutral Good/Evil styles to make them work properly on mobile devices as well as Desktop. If you apply the CSS as Custom CSS to your journal, it keeps working on desktop and starts working right on mobile. All the nightmare noise from Dreamwidth’s old mobile-ish style went away, it got way more information dense, and most of all

no

goddamn

horizontal

scrolling

ever.

Not even with the navbar turned on. It’s stupidly tall, but it no longer scrolls.

(That was some work.)

I handed off that code to Dreamwidth ages ago, but they’ve got a tiny staff and I don’t know how important it ever was to them or even how much made it into the codebase.

Turns out tho’… seems people are still using mine? And I just got an issue report. And I have an edit that fixes it on my machine. And I fixed a subject line issue while I was at it.

sooooo uhhhhhhhh

I guess I’m dropping a new release!

Anybody want to test Version 0.85 before I make it official?

Posted via Solarbird{y|z|yz}, Collected.

On Fortuna's wheel, I'm running

Jun. 5th, 2025 11:13 pm
sovay: (Sydney Carton)
[personal profile] sovay
As my day centrally involved a very long-awaited referral finally coming through and foundering immediately on the shoals of the American healthcare system, it wasn't a very good one. The CDC called for my opinions on vaccination which it turned out I was not permitted to state for the record without a minor child in the house. Because the call was recorded for quality assurance, I said just in case that I had children in my life if not my legal residence and I supported their vaccination so as to protect them from otherwise life-threatening communicable diseases and did not express my opinion of the incumbent secretary of health and human services and his purity of essence. I got hung up on before I could tell my family stories from before the polio vaccine and the MMR.

Of course the man in the White House used the Boulder attack to justify his latest travel ban. Burned Jews are good for his business. I appreciate this op-ed from Eric K. Ward. I hope it reaches anyone it's meant to. I thought I was jaundiced about people and now I think I'm just in liver failure.

It would never have occurred to me that a video for Talking Heads' "Psycho Killer" (1977) should have anything to do with psychological realism, but Saoirse Ronan seems to have had a great time with it.
[syndicated profile] corabuhlert_feed

Posted by Cora

It’s time for another Masters-of-the-Universe-Piece Theatre photo story. The name “Masters-of-the-Universe-Piece Theatre” was coined by Kevin Beckett at the Whetstone Discord server.

I took most of the photos for this story some time ago, but never got around to posting them. At the time,  I had just gotten the Masterverse version of Mekaneck, who must certainly be one of the stranger Masters of the Universe characters, which in a universe full of strange characters is certainly saying something. For you see, Mekaneck’s power is that he can stretch his neck. Yes, really, that’s what he does. He stretches his neck. In fact, he’s billed as the “Heroic Human Periscope” on packaging, going all the way back to his introduction in 1984. For more about the vintage Mekaneck action figure, go here.

What inspired me to finally post this story was the news that actor James Wilkinson has been cast as Mekaneck in the upcoming Masters of the Universe live action movie. This news caused something of a stir, because a) no one expected to ever see a weird character like Mekaneck in a Masters of the Universe movie, especially since Mekaneck hasn’t been seen on screen for more than twenty years, i.e. since the 2002 cartoon – both Masters of the Universe Revelation/Revolution and the CGI He-Man cartoon chose not to include Mekaneck – and b) James Wilkinson is an attractive man and no one ever expected Mekaneck of all people to be hot – he is the dude with the stretching neck, after all.

As with many characters, Mekaneck’s backstory is all over the place in the different iterations of Masters of the Universe. The one thing that’s consistent is that he is a member of the Heroic Warriors. The mini-comics never gave Mekaneck an origin story, as far as I recall. He just suddenly pops up as a members of the Heroic Warriors fighting alongside He-Man.

The Filmation cartoon, however, did give Mekaneck an origin story. Here, Mekaneck is a single Dad (at any rate, we never meet a Mrs. Mekaneck) and has an approximately ten-year-old son called Philip, who is a gifted flutist. One day, Mekaneck and Philip are having a picnic in the woods and get caught up in a violent storm. Philip is blown away by the wind and Mekaneck is badly injured while trying to rescue him. Man-at-Arms finds the injured Mekaneck and takes him to the palace to treat his injuries, giving him his expanding neck in the process. Much as I love Duncan, his medical skills are questionable. That said, Mekaneck is yet another example for the fact that many Masters of the Universe characters both good and evil are disabled and that their assistive devices are the source of their abilities.  As a kid, I never really grasped this, because much like the disabled people in my day to day life, the disabled Masters of the Universe characters just were who they were*. As an adult, the sheer number of disabled characters in Masters of the Universe is stunning, especially for a property developed in the 1980s.

Grateful for his rescue, Mekaneck stays at the palace and joins the Royal Guard. However, Philip never reappears, even though his father never stops looking for him. Then, several years later, Philip does show up again – only that he has lost his memory and is being used by the evil Sorcerer Count Marzo to help him rob law-abiding Eternians. Of course, Marzo gets his comeuppance and father and son are reunited.

It’s a memorable episode and gives Mekaneck more backstory than supporting characters usually got in the Filmation cartoon.  The fact that Mekaneck is a Dad is also unusual, since except for Duncan and Randor, none of the Heroic Warriors have kids, not even confirmed straight characters like Stratos, who has a wife (though he does have a son named Atmos and an unnamed daughter in the German audio plays). Man-e-Faces has an unnamed daughter in the German audio dramas as well, which have their own continuity, but his origin story is also completely different there, which suggests that his daughter doesn’t exist in the prime continuity.

Sadly, Philip is never mentioned again, though the villain Count Marzo appears several times in the Filmation cartoon. Though an artistocrat and therefore theoretically privileged, he turns to crime to finance his lifestyle and inevitably exploits children to aid him in his life of crime, keeping them compliant with drugs, magic and threats. In short, he is a walking, talking public service announcement about the dangers of drugs and strangers, who nonetheless managed to be a fascinating character.

Mekaneck did appear in the German audio dramas and advertising magazines, where his characterisation is completely different. For starters, in the advertising magazines, he is billed as “the galactic spy” and is apparently an astronaut. In the audio dramas, Mekaneck is also a braggart who keeps referring to himself as a “the winning type”. Spoiler alert, he inveitably gets his comeuppance. Audio Mekaneck is very memorable due to the great performance of voice actor Douglas Welbat, but his characterisation is also completely at odds with any other version of the character.

Mekaneck reappears in the 2002 He-Man and the Masters of the Universe cartoon as a member of the Heroic Warriors. He is a member of Captain Randor’s squad and is first seen fighting Keldor and his troops at the Hall of Wisdom. This means that like most of the Heroic Warriors, Mekaneck is of the generation of Randor and Duncan and therefore considerably older than Adam and Teela. Filmation Mekaneck was older than Adam and Teela as well, but younger than Randor or Duncan.

2002 Mekaneck can stretch his neck to much more epic proportions than ever before and he can also twist and turn it. His neck is bionic, though we never really learn how he came by his abilities, though according to fan historian Jukka Issakainen, the series bible for the 2002 cartoon reveals that Mekaneck received his abilities in response to a devastating battlefield neck injury, much like in the Filmation cartoon. If 2002 Mekaneck has children, we never see them. Unlike his German audio counterpart, 2002 Mekaneck is very self-conscious and suffers from low self-esteem, because his abilities are a little rubbish, something that Teela with her customary bluntness even says to his face. His low self-esteem coupled with the fear that Duncan’s latest invention – a kind of X-ray device that can see through objects – will make the one thing Mekaneck is good at, namely reconnaissance, superfluous make Mekaneck easy prey for his old nemesis Count Marzo.

It’s interesting that the 2002 cartoon chose to keep Count Marzo as Mekaneck’s archenemy, even though the entire subplot of Marzo kidnapping Mekaneck’s kid is never mentioned. Count Marzo is also a very different character in the 2002 cartoon. He’s still a powerful sorcerer, but that’s about the only thing about him that the 2002 cartoon kept from the Filmation version of the character. Whereas the Filmation Count Marzo looked like William Shakespeare’s evil twin, the 2002 Count Marzo speaks with an East Europoean accent, has red eyes, long black hair that dramatically blows in the wind and struts around mostly bare-chested with a cape that also dramatically blows in the wind (the 2002 cartoon was big on things blowing dramatically in the wind). He no longer peddles drugs or recruits children for his nefarious schemes, but instead tries to conquer Eternia with the help of his monstrous hellhounds and the considerable powers bestowed upon him by a magical amulet. He is eventually captured by Miro (who is Captain rather than King Miro in this version) and his troops. The Council of Elders, who rule Eternia in this version of the story before pissing off to parts unknown, leaving Randor in charge, strip Marzo of his powers and take away his magical amulet, which turns Marzo into a withered old man and his hellhounds into rats. Unfortunately, old man Marzo looks like an Anti-Semitic stereotype that’s so offensive that I wonder how anybody thought this was acceptable as late as 2002.

The Anti-Semitic caricature version of Count Marzo finds Mekaneck who is drowning in self-pity and asks him to retrieve his magical amulet, which the Council of Elders hid in a labyrinthine cave. In return, Marzo promises Mekaneck to use his magic to give him more useful powers. Mekaneck agrees and uses his expanding neck to fetch the amulet, but of course Marzo has no intention to keep his part of the bargain and promptly tries to conquer Eternia again. However, the repentant Mekaneck saves the day and Marzo is stripped off his powers once again. He reappears a few times throughout the series, recruited by Skeletor and later Evil-Lyn to aid them in their nefarious schemes, though he always remains his own man.

The 2002 incarnation of Count Marzo received an action figure in the Masters of the Universe Classics line, which I got for a good price. Marzo also appears in the Classics mini-comics where he is the power that orchestrates the civil war known as “the Great Unrest”, which is mentioned a few times in the 2002 cartoon (in general, the Classics storyline stuck quite closely to the 2002 cartoon). Once again, Miro, now King again, and his sons Randor and Keldor meet Marzo and his army of Shadowbeasts in battle. Marzo is eventually defeated, but not before he opens an interdimensional portal to the evil dimension of Despondos and throws Miro in. This causes a rift between Randor and his half-brother Keldor and leads to even more Great Unrest.

Neither Mekaneck nor Marzo reappeared in the Masters of the Universe Revelation/Revolution cartoon and comics, though Marzo is slated to appear in an Andra one-shot comic later this year, nor in the CGI He-Man cartoon. However, Mekaneck did appeare in the DC Eternity War comics, where he got yet another origin story. In the comics, Mekaneck is of roughly the same age as Adam and Teela, i.e. much younger than in previous incarnations. He already had his abilities as a young child, though again it’s not clear if he was born this way or received his abilities to heal some kind of injury. This incarnation of Mekaneck is also self-conscious about the fact that his neck-stretching ability is rather silly. At one point, he confesses to Duncan that he was badly bullied as a child because of his abilities. However, his classmate Teela protected him and put a stop to the bullying when they were both only six years old, leading to an enduring friendship. And yes, they’re really just friends, as Mekaneck tells Fisto, when the latter tells him that he’d better not get any ideas regarding Teela, because Teela and Adam belong together. Teela continues to tease Mekaneck about his “useless” powers, but she’s the only one who does and woe betide anybody else who tries. When Teela is kidnapped by Horde Force Captain Despara (we know her better as Adora), He-Man and Mekaneck team up to rescue her.

I really like this version of Mekaneck’s backstory. It draws very much on the 2002 version of the character – Mekaneck feels self-conscious about his powers and Teela teases him about it – but also goes back further to the Filmation cartoon, where we see lots of kids running around the Royal Palace – most likely the kids of guards, employees and courtiers. It makes sense that Mekaneck (and also Clamp Champ) was one of these kids and is a childhood friend of Adam and Teela (though I also like Mekaneck as a single Dad). Just as it makes sense for Teela to stand up for others and put bullies in their place, because that’s who she is. Plus, we know that Teela is extremely protective of those she cares for. She has been protective of Adam since childhood, but it makes sense that she would also protect others besides Adam. Coincidentally, we even see some of the kids in the palace being bullies as far back as the Filmation cartoon. They even pick on Adam on occasion, though they’d never dare to cross Teela.

The scant bio on the back of the Masterverse New Eternia Mekaneck action figure (i.e. the action figure appearing in this toy photo story) gives us yet another version of his backstory. In this version, Mekaneck is the captain of King Randor’s submarine squadron, which makes sense – he is the heroic human periscope, after all. We don’t learn how he came by his abilities, though the Masterverse Mekaneck is the first ever toy version of the character to feature an articulated neck, achieved via putting multiple ball-jointed neck extension pieces together. This time around, his signature weapon – a club – also doubles as a telescope, which is a neat touch.

The story below draws on the various backstories of Mekaneck and his nemesis Count Marzo. Marzo appears in his 2002 look, because that’s the only toy version of him we ever had, plus it is the cooler version, while Mekaneck displays the self-consciousness and need to prove himself that he’s had ever since the 2002 cartoon, while his friendship with Teela is borrowed from the Eternity War comics. So enjoy…

Mekaneck’s Revenge

On the Plains of Perpetua:

Mekaneck confronts Count Marzo and his hellhound

The scenery is aquarium decoration, while Count Marzo’s pet is a Schleich Eldrador Hellhound.

“Count Marzo, in the name of King Randor, you are under arrest for kidnapping, drug dealing, robbery, treason and countless other crimes against Eternia…”

“Oh, it’s Stretchyneck.”

“Mekaneck. My name is Mekaneck. Captain Mekaneck of the Royal Submarine Squadron.”

“Couldn’t Randor at least send a Master who’s marginally impressive? Man-e-Faces maybe or Ram-Man or Buzz Off or Stratos. At least they would be something of a challenge. Even that little red-haired girl who cosplays as Captain of the Guard would be more impressive.”

“Shut up, Marzo. Drop the sword and the amulet and hands up.”

“So you really want to arrest me? You and what army, Stretchyneck?”

“I don’t need an army or even the other Masters to deal with you, Marzo. I’m the winning type and you’re not remotely as impressive as you think you are, not to someone who’s faced Skeletor, the Evil Horde and the slithering Snake Men.”

“Well, you’re not impressive at all. Killing you will hardly cause me to break a sweat, though it will be very satisfying.”

“Not nearly as satisfying as seeing you locked up in the royal dungeon will be.”

“Enough talk. Get him, my hellhounds!”

GROWL!

Count Marzo fights Mekaneck on the cliffs, while the hellhounds growlCLASH! CLANG!

GROWL!

“Oh please! I’m not just a powerful sorcerer, I’m also a master swordsman. Do you really think you can stand against me with… what by the power of Horokoth is that thing anyway?”

“It’s a telescope. And a club. And it can shatter that pigsticker of yours like so much scrap metal.”

Mekaneck is down and Count Marzo towers over him with his sword, but Mekaneck deflects the strike with his shield.“Game over, Stretchyneck. You lose.”

“You didn’t think this shield was just for show, did you?”

CLASH! CLANG!

Mekaneck is still down and Count Marzo points his amulet at him.“Ah well, this was fun and more of a challenge than I expected. But I have places to be, treasures to steal and lands to conquer. Time to end this. Abra Bruska Metak Vedak.”

ZAP!

Marzo zaps Mekaneck with the magic from his amulet. “Argh! Can’t… move…”

“My magic is keeping you in your place. And now, Stretchyneck, I shall cut off your head and put it on a spike on the battlements of Castle Marzo. And then I’ll feed your body to my hellhounds. Mwahahaha.”

GROWL! SLOBBER!

“Must… resist…”

Mekaneck extends his neck to escape Marzo's blade.FWOOSH!

“WHAT? How?”

“Your magic is powerful, but my neck is technology and magic doesn’t affect it. How useless is my ability now, eh Marzo?”

Mekaneck is down and has extended his neck, while Marzo threatens him with his sword. “This is merely a minor inconvenience. I shall simply cut off your neck at the shoulders and put it on the battlements of my castle as is. At least, it saves me a pole and a spike.”

“You’ll have to catch me first.”

Marzo still threatens Mekaneck with his sword, while Mekaneck tries to evade him.“Quit wiggling, you worm!”

“Not a chance, Marzo.”

“I shall cut you down like a tree.”

CHOP! CHOP!

“Damn, I don’t know how long I can keep this up.”

Sorceress Teela appears to rescue Mekaneck from Marzo.“Halt! Leave him alone, Marzo!”

“Who dares?”

Teela confronts Marzo and his hellhounds, while Mekaneck is still down.“Oh, it’s the little girl who thinks she’s Captain of the Guard. Randor really is scraping the bottom of the barrel, is he?”

“Teela, no. He’s too dangerous.”

“Well, I shall just kill two Masters of the price of one then. And your head will look very pretty on a spike with that fiery hair fluttering in the wind.”

GROWL!

“This is you last chance, Marzo. Surrender, call off your pets and leave Mekaneck alone or face the consequences!”

“And who’s going to make me? You, little girl who would be Captain of the Guard?”

Sorceress Teela blasts Marzo with her magic.“Wrong, Marzo. I am the Sorceress of Grayskull now and much more powerful than you can imagine. Zoar Vazetka Shuk Mok Ta.”

ZAP!

“Noooooo…”

Teela and Mekaneck stand over the fallen Count Marzo.“Are you all right, Meck?”

“I’m fine, thanks. A few bruises and scratches, but nothing serious.”

CRACKLE.

“Your neck is damaged. You need to let Dad or Andra take a look at that.”

“I think – CRACKLE – his blade damaged some of the cables. I can’t – CRACKLE – retract my neck either.”

“What were you thinking to go after him alone, Meck? Marzo is dangerous. He could have killed you.”

“I know. It’s just… after everything he’s done to me, I wanted to be the one to bring him in.”

“I understand. But you still shouldn’t have gone after him alone. Why didn’t you take Man-e-Faces along? Or Buzz-Off or Stratos or Ram-Man or Uncle Malcolm or at least some of my guards – well, I guess they’re Andra’s guards now.”

“Because… well, just this once I wanted to be the hero and not just the look-out who does reconnaissance or the human periscope.”

“You are a hero, Meck. Even if your special ability is stretching your neck. Cause there are times when stretching your neck comes in really handy. I mean, you are the sole reason we even have a Royal Submarine Squadron.”

“Yes, because the Queen said, ‘Oh, he’s like a human periscope’, when she first met me. And then the King asked, ‘What’s a periscope?’ and the Queen explained to him that Earth had something called submarines,  so the King decided he wanted a Submarine Squadron as well. Except that I think submarines on Earth are quite different than me wading into the sea and keeping my head above water.”

“That’s just because Earth doesn’t have a Mekaneck.”

Mekaneck kisses Teela on the forehead, while Marzo is in chains.“Thanks, Teela, for everything. You’re the best.”

SMOOCH!

“Just don’t tell Adam about this, okay? Cause I’d really hate to have him angry at me.”

“Why should Adam be angry at you, Meck? You’re his friend.”

“Ahem, because I just kissed you?”

“Oh please! I can kiss whoever I want. After all, Adam and I are just good friends.”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Teela.”

“Could you just lock me up already? Cause I think I’m going to puke, if I have to listen to this any longer.”

“Shut up, Marzo!”

***

Later:

Loo-Kee emerges from the rocky landscape“Hi folks, it’s me, Loo-Kee. Light Hope sent me to Eternia through a portal, so I can do my job and deliver the moral of story.”

“In today’s tale, Mekaneck thought that he could capture Count Marzo all alone and almost got himself killed in the process. But lucky for him, Teela showed up in the nick of time. Of course, Mekaneck could have just asked his friends for help in the first place. Cause everybody needs help sometimes and there is no shame in asking.”

Loo-Kee stands on the clifftop to deliver the moral.“Also, I want to talk to you about drugs. Cause one of the things that Marzo does is give drugs to Eternian children to make them commit crimes for him. Strangers like Marzo can be very dangerous, so don’t accept any candy or magical potions or drinks a stranger gives to you. Cause they could be drugs and drugs are very, very bad for you. Just ask Ileena. Or Jonno. In fact, evil people like Count Marzo are exactly why I’ve been tasked with delivering these morals…”

Marzo and his hellhounds appear to harass Loo-Kee

I took these and the earlier photos at different times, so Marzo has acquired a second hellhound, a Schleich Eldrador Fire Hyaena, in the meantime.

“So you think you can ruin my business, you little creep? Wait till I get my hands on you…”

“Help! It’s Marzo. He’s loose.”

“Indeed I am, you little creep.”

Marzo and his hellhounds threaten Loo-Kee“How did you get here anyway? Why aren’t you in the royal dungeon?”

“I broke out. The royal dungeon isn’t exactly escape proof. Skeletor’s Evil Warriors break out of that place all the bloody time and I picked up a few tricks. So yes, Count Marzo is free and back in business. And you, little creep, won’t ruin my business by warning the children of Eternia of my tricks. Get him my hellhounds!”

GROWL!

“Help, help!”

Marzo turns to the camera, while his hellhounds threaten Loo-Kee.“Hello, children. My name is Count Marzo. Do no listen to this little creep, for Loo-Kee lies.”

“I don’t lie. My people can’t lie. That’s why I’ve been chosen to deliver the moral message. Because I always tell the truth.”

“Shut him up, my hellhounds.”

GROWL. SLOBBER.

“Yelp!”

“Don’t you want to hear my side of the story, children? For you see, I am the victim of unjust persecution by that tyrant King Randor. I am merely a simple mage, going about my business, taking from the rich to give to… well, myself. Surely supporting myself in the style I am accustomed to cannot be a crime. Also, children, let me tell you the truth about drugs, the whole and unvarnished truth…”

“Don’t listen to him! He’s lying.”

GROWL. SLOBBER.

“Drugs are wonderful. They make you feel good and strong and powerful and that’s the true reason why people like Randor or that killjoy He-Man or this little nuissance there don’t want you to take them. And because I am a master sorcerer, my drugs are the best in all of Eternia. Much better than those of that Gar loser Jarvan. And best of all, my drugs are free. Well, almost free. Cause all I ask in return is that you do me a little favour and help me in my quest to assume my rightful place as ruler of Eternia…”

Mekaneck appears behind Count Marzo, his hellhounds and Loo-Kee. “Really, Marzo? You escaped from the royal dungeon barely an hour ago and you’re already up to your old tricks again? Well, I guess I’ll just have to arrest you again then.”

Marzo turns to face Mekaneck, while Loo-Kee hides behind Mekaneck.“Oh, it’s Stretchyneck. Again.”

“Mekaneck. My name is Mekaneck.”

GROWL!

“So you really want to go another round with me, Stretchyneck. Cause I’m just going to defeat you again and this time, your pretty red-haired Sorceress girlfriend won’t be there to save you. So prepare to die, Stretchyneck. I shall put your head on a spike on the battlements of my castle right next to the stuffed carcass of that little nuissance Loo-Kee…”

“Are you just going to stand there and talk, Marzo, or will you fight?”

“You’re remarkably confident, Stretchyneck, considering I’ve kicked your arse twice now. What makes you think this time will be different?”

“Well, for starters because this time…”

Fisto appears behind Marzo who is threatening Loo-Kee and Mekaneck.  “…I brought friends.”

“Hi, Marzo. Remember me?

Marzo turns around to face Fisto, as do his hellhounds.“Oh, it’s the second most ridiculous Heroic Warrior. Well, I shall just put your head on the walls of my castle next to Stretchyneck’s and that little creep Loo-Kee’s.”

GROWL!

Fisto punches out Count Marzo, while Mekaneck, Loo-Kee and the hellhounds look on.“Fisto’s the name, punching’s the game. And now eat steel knuckles, shithead!”

PUNCH!

“Uhhh…”

YOWL!

Count Marzo is down and his hellhounds flee, while Mekaneck and Fisto tower over the fallen Marzo.“Thanks for lending a hand – ahem, fist, Malcolm.”

“Anytime, Meck. That’s what friends are for.”

“I mean, I could’ve taken him down myself, cause I am the winning type, after all. But it’s still good to have backup.”

“Yeah sure, you could’ve taken him down yourself. After all, it’s not as if Teela had to rescue you the last time.”

“She… Yes, you’re right, Malcolm. Teela did save my bacon. But then she’s a very special person.”

Marzo is still down, while Mekaneck talks to Fisto.“I know. She is my niece, after all. And Meck, consider this a friendly warning, but no kissing Teela or you’ll answer to me.”

“I didn’t…”

“Loo-Kee, did Mekaneck kiss Teela?”

“You… you guys know I’m here? You can see me?”

“Sigh. Loo-Kee, we always know you’re there, cause you’re not nearly as good at hiding as you think. We just pretend we don’t see you. And now did Mekaneck kiss Teela?”

“All right, I did kiss Teela. But only on the forehead. She’s a friend.”

“And don’t you forget it, Meck. Cause you know that Teela is as good as betrothed to Adam.”

“Have you told her that? Cause Teela insists that she and Adam are just friends.”

“Sigh. Yeah, that’s Teela for you. The most powerful sorceress in the universe and yet remarkably clueless. The same goes for Adam. He’s the most powerful man in the universe and yet he still can’t muster enough courage to finally pop the question. Those two kids can be so silly. As if the whole palace doesn’t know what’s up.”

Mekaneck and Fisto talk, while Marzo is down and Loo-Kee looks on.“Talking of which, we should take Marzo back to the royal dungeon. And then we’ll have to explain to Duncan that his escape-proof prison proved to be not escape-proof, after all. Again.”

“Well, escape-proofing the not-quite-escape-proof dungeon should keep my brother busy for a couple of days and out of my hair, cause Duncan’s ego has gotten a little too inflated since Randor knighted him.”

“You’re just jealous that your brother is now Lord Duncan and you’re still plain old Malcolm.”

“Pah. I’m still the strongest right fist in all of Eternia and that’s the only title that counts.”

***

Duncan actually does get knighted somewhere between Masters of the Universe Revelation and Revolution, because he is referred to as “Lord Duncan” in the latter. He also gets a snazzy new uniform and armour.

And Count Marzo, the public service announcement incarnate, taking over the moral at the end of the story was just too funny.

That’s it for today, folks. I hope you enjoyed this Masters-of-the-Universe-Piece Theatre Toy Photo Story, because there will be more.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, I just bought some toys, took photos of them and wrote little scenes to go with those photos. All characters are copyright and trademark their respective owners.

*As a kid, I literally did not understand the concept of disability and famously told my teacher in elementary school that I didn’t know any disabled people, even though I had an amputee grandma, a blind neighbour, a deaf neighbour, a polio survivor uncle and a mentally disabled cousin (and several undiagnosed autistic relatives).

Cyberplane #1

Jun. 5th, 2025 05:58 pm
rolanni: (Default)
[personal profile] rolanni

Sharon says: I think that these two installments by Steve Miller explain themselves pretty well. Back in the day, Cyberplane 1 and 2 won a web-writing award, the name of which escapes me at this distance. We were nicer to each other on the internet, back then.

#

Cyberplane #1

This is the first issue of Cyberplane; it is a direct descendant of the old Paper Plane fanzine that I published when I lived at Apt 3A 119 Willow Bend Drive, Owings Mills, Md., 21117. In some ways I'm sorry that it's not appearing in the original format of a snailmailed, mimeographed personalzine....on the other hand I gave that device -- that mimeo machine -- away to some fans in deepest PA, where it may yet turn out crudsheets with every fourth crank of the handle.

So Cyberplane #1 comes to you via the web from Steve Miller, RR2, Box 4570, Winslow, ME 04901. LoCs (letters of comment) can be sent via email to kinzel@mint.net; additional issues will arrive webward from time to time, if anyone notices this issue. You CAN send stamps, though I'm not sure what the correct postage should be...This is a by whim production; there are no subscribers. Copyright 1995 by Steve Miller. The textured background is my own; I also make web pages....


....If none of that makes sense to you, perhaps I should mention that long ago and far away I was considered a science fiction fan. That was a technical term back when most science fiction was in books and magazines and fans were readers rather than watchers. Many, many fans were also writers, and some of the fans I dealt with have, like me, become "filthy pros" in one field of writing or another.

I have, alas, not given up many of my fannish ways. I still think of the year not in traditional holidays but in condays: April, BaltiCon and MiniCon weekend...also known as Easter. DisClave weekend, also known as Memorial Day to the uninitiated. And of course, WorldCon...frequently known as Labor Dayweek. Having been to something over 100 cons over the years my inclination to think in this fashion may perhaps be understood.

I also have kept many of my fannish odds and ends. My Kelly Freas caricature, my old x-rated issue of Holier Than Thou, many of my convention badges. And, of course, the illos sent to me by artists for the next issue of my fanzine. Original art!


Illo by Rotsler

I am not above the lure of the convention's song. I am, however, too cynical to enjoy sleeping on the floor in crash space; and too experienced to travel cross country on $6 a day with any degree of comfort. Once upon a time however....

#

Con-Fession of a Con-Addict

In the summer of 1973 the fannish world had a near miss. Not only did the famous Khoutek comet fail to mesmerize and astonish billions, it being one of the real duds of the 20th century, right up there with the Edsel, the Lisa, the Apple III, and the Commordore IV, but also I failed to attend my first "real" sf convention.

I'm not sure who lucked out: I was at Clarion West and rather than go out to the con (in Vancouver perhaps?) I spent my weekend working on my writing. Somehow I thought that was much more to the purpose, having traveled by bus from Baltimore to Seattle to attend a writing workshop, and not to sit around talking trash with a bunch of mere fans. Sigh. I was as opinionated then as I am now and with far less experience to back it up... And so my first convention didn't happen months after I returned from Clarion.

You can probably blame Sue Miller, who was then Sue Nice, for my first appearance at convention. She read Analog every month ( I read Amazing, Fantastic, and IF or one of it's brethren) and it wasn't unusual for us to stare at the con listings and wonder if we should go to one of these things. When it was apparent that I was actually going to get a job in the field...well, it was obvious that we needed to go to a convention. And since we'd missed BaltiCon that year, the first con we got to was DisClave.

I will not bore you with the entire details of the event; I couldn't, having mixed them up with so many other events that took place at the Sheraton Park. What struck me from the start, and what helped lead to my addiction, was that I was among readers -- lots of readers! -- who knew enough about the same things I did to agree with me -- or argue with me -- from a position of information. These people might LOOK weird, but they didn't think it odd that one might happen to pick up a book at 7 PM and put down the second or third book in the series at 6 AM just before going to work...

In short order I became involved in BSFS, the Baltimore Science Fantasy Society, and I became a con fan. I'd drop everything to run to Pghlange, and I'd go to anything dealing with SF at the Sheraton Park hotel...an edifice that could probably have been bought for a permanent worldcon home for the amount of money that fans spent there.

My involvement in fandom, and in convention fandom in particular, got to the point that I might begin a conversation with someone at a room party in, say, Kentucky, continue it the next week in say, Michigan, and finish it at a party in, say Ohio, three weeks later. Not only might I have these kinds of conversations, I faunched after them. I needed them.

The energy of conventions got in my blood; I found myself able and (all too!) willing to give directions to hotels and restaurants in Anne Arbor and Washington DC and Columbus (that's in Ohio and is one of the least visited cities in the US). I also found myself recognizing stretches of interstate 400 miles away from home from the last time I'd been there -- say three weeks before.

At the risk of sounding a bit like one of Andy Offut's convention speeches, there I was, a young man from the backwoods of Owings Mills, Maryland and I was not only going places, but I was doing things in those places and I was even welcomefar from home. This was all a bit of a surprise to me. So much so that I needed hints about which cheese to eat (and Joe Haldeman may still consider me uncouth for never having had feta cheese in my life at the time we happened to be at the same party at a con in Ann Arbor); but I came from a poor but boring background where I'd led a very sheltered life away from anything but the blandest and most Baltimore of foods.

I also discovered the unexpected lure of all night partying. As my involvement grew from wide-eyed innocent to WorldCon bidding insider I became more and more involved in the faanish side of things and less in the sercon (serious constructive) side of things. Oh, I still wrote my fiction and my book reviews, but I was not as likely to attend the inevitable "Universe Building" panel as I was to hit all of the open and and as many of the closed parties as I could.

Along the way, I lost my way. Some of the all night parties led to waking up in someone else's room. Some ended up with a quiet breakfast with someone I'd kissed for the first time three hours before. Some ended up merely prelude to a virtually sleepless weekend followed by a 20 hour crash when I got home. Work and homelife suffered....

And so by the time of the Miami worldcon my marriage was on the rocks; even as my father (who was living in Miami on a houseboat with a 19 year-old girlfriend) was telling me to "hang on to that girl", the former Sue Nice was plainly not long to be Mrs. Steve Miller. The world of the con and the mundane world are not meant to be lived simultaneously for long periods of time...

For a short while I used conventions to avoid being alone. Then, rather suddenly, my writing was selling, I was reviewing books for the Baltimore Sun, and my new position as editor of a weekly community newspaper made conventions harder to get to.

This is a work in progress...thanks for your understanding-- Try Steve Miller If you haven't had enough you can try number 2 in the series


Cyberplane #2

Jun. 5th, 2025 05:58 pm
rolanni: (Default)
[personal profile] rolanni

Cyberplane #2

This is the second issue of Cyberplane; it is a direct descendant of the old Paper Plane fanzine that I published when I lived in Owings Mills, Md. I lived in Owings Mills for close to 20 years with brief time out for visits to Seattle, WA and some semi-communal living in Columbia, Md. and Reisterstown, Md.

Cyberplane #2 comes to you via the web from Steve Miller, RR2, Box 4570, Winslow, ME 04901, where I live with my wife, Sharon Lee (despite rumours on GEnie and rec.arts.sf.written to the contrary) and a stalwart band of rescued cats who have joined the quest.

LoCs (letters of comment) can be sent via email to kinzel@mint.net; additional issues will arrive webward from time to time. In support, you CAN send stamps, personal photos your mother wouldn't approve of, silver dimes, quarters, half-dollars, or dollars, or canned salmon. This is a by whim production; there are no subscribers. Copyright 1996 by Steve Miller.

The textured background is my own; I also make web pages. The photograph above is the gift of a fan and was probably taken after 9 PM on a Saturday night at a convention on the somewhere on the East Coast in the year 1977. This may actually have been taken at the WorldCon in Miami...and I see my hair was going grey then in a few spots more than 18 years ago.

#

   ....If none of that makes sense to you, perhaps I should mention that long ago and far away I was considered a science fiction fan. That was a technical term back when most science fiction was in books and magazines and fans were readers rather than watchers. Many, many fans were also writers, and some of the fans I dealt with have, like me, become "filthy pros" in one field of writing or another.

What has gone before

In the first issue of Cyberplane I mentioned that science fiction cons had gotten in my blood. The truth is that, even though I was writing for much of my living in fields outside of SF, most of my community was still within the SF world.
This began to become a problem as my relationship with Sue Miller deteriorated, for we were seen as a unit. Additionally, for several years we were extremely active in BSFS, hosting parties and meetings at our large apartment in Owings Mills (sometimes with more than a hundred attendees over a six or eight hour span) as well as acting as Baltimore in 80 ambassadors in Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, York (PA), and Wilmington, NC.

And so, I'd found myself at loose ends within the SF community and also found myself exposed to other creative types in the music world I was covering for various newspapers. Thus, when I met re-met Sharon Lee at a writing course I was taking at UMBC (where we were both looking (sigh) for easy credits) I was happy to find a science fiction-oriented person to be around again... and also pleased to find someone who was serious about writing.

I'd been exposed to the poets, the would-be great American novelists, and the newspaper people and found some of fandom's self-centeredness wearing. In Sharon's presence though the wonder-and-fun part of SF came through again; and the fan feuds and convention-mongering fell into the background. Oddly enough, it was Sharon's influence and goals (along with those of friend Drew Farrell) that moved me into some of my most intensive convention-going.

The effort, first, to put together the Star Swarm News as a new kind of science fiction publication, failed. We never got the capital infusion that we needed so badly, and the concept (later echoed in the somewhat successful Aboriginal SF) was itself ignored. Fans, it seemed, didn't want newspapers.

After Aracelli Karri, Inc. essentially went belly up and with it the Star Swarm News itself, Sharon and I moved into gear with Sharon's lifelong dream -- her own bookstore. That melded well with the art agenting I'd been doing on the side, and so was born DreamsGarth.


This is a work in progress; it is copyright 1996 by Steve Miller.


News of tomorrow, today

Jun. 5th, 2025 05:30 pm
rolanni: (Default)
[personal profile] rolanni

For those who were wondering about 2025's chapbook (remember that?) -- roughed out, including the back matter, but not the front matter, we're looking at 29,780 words/136 manuscript pages. Contents are: Author's Explanation, Neutral Ground, Outtake: The Healer Removed; Core Values; Text of the Heinlein Acceptance Speech.

This is still in Very Rough Shape, and it naturally takes second place to the novel, which! I'll begin reading tomorrow, because, yes, I DID get All The Stuff Done, and it is time -- nay! past time! -- to go back to work.

It's my intention to post the first two installments (the only two installments I can find, and, indeed, possibly the only two that were written) of Cyberplane, Steve Miller's electronic fanzine from 1996, to The Usual Places, possibly tonight, and Devote Myself To My Craft, tomorrow.

Which is to say, Friday on the East Coast of the USA will be a Planned Electron-Free Day at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

So! Everybody stay safe; I'll see you, for sure, on Saturday.


[personal profile] rachelmanija


This sequel to one of my favorite books of last year, a young adult post-apocalypse novel with a lovely slow-burn gay romance, fell victim to a trope I basically never like: the sequel to a romance that starts out by breaking up the main couple or pitting them against each other. It may be realistic but I hate it. If the main thing I liked about the first book was the main couple's dynamic - and if I'm reading the sequel, that's definitely the case - then I'm never going to like a sequel where their dynamic is missing or turns negative. I'm not saying they can't have conflict, but they shouldn't have so much conflict that there's nothing left of the relationship I loved in the first place.

This book starts out with Jamison and Andrew semi-broken up and not speaking to each other or walking on eggshells around each other, because Andrew wants to stay in the nice post-apocalyptic community they found and Jamison wants to return to their cabin and live alone there with Andrew. Every character around them remarks on this and how they need to just talk to each other. Eventually they talk to each other, but it resolves nothing and they go on being weird about each other and mourning the loss of their old relationship. ME TOO.

Then half the community's children die in a hurricane, and it's STILL all about them awkwardly not talking to each other and being depressed. I checked Goodreads, saw that they don't make up till the end, and gave up.

The first book is still great! It didn't need a sequel, though I would have enjoyed their further adventures if it had continued the relationship I loved in the first book. I did not sign up for random dead kids and interminable random sulking.

Another brief update

Jun. 5th, 2025 07:14 pm
[syndicated profile] stross_feed

Posted by Charlie Stross

(UPDATE: A new article/interview with me about the 20th anniversary of Accelerando just dropped, c/o Agence France-Presse. Gosh, I feel ancient.)

Bad news: the endoscopy failed. (I was scheduled for an upper GI endoscopy via the nasal sinuses to take a look around my stomach and see what's bleeding. Bad news: turns out I have unusually narrow sinuses, and by the time they'd figured this out my nose was watering so badly that I couldn't breathe when they tried to go in via my throat. So we're rescheduling for a different loction with an anesthetist who can put me under if necessary. NB: I would have been fine with only local anaesthesia if the bloody endscope had fit through my sinuses. Gaah.)

The attack novel I was working on has now hit the 70% mark in first draft—not bad for two months. I am going to keep pushing onwards until it stops, or until the page proofs I'm expecting hit me in the face. They're due at the end of June, so I might finish Starter Pack first ... or not. Starter Pack is an unexpected but welcome spin-off of Ghost Engine (third draft currently on hold at 80% done), which I shall get back to in due course. It seems to have metastasized into a multi-book project.

Neither of the aforementioned novels is finished, nor do they have a US publisher. (Ghost Engine has a UK publisher, who has been Very Patient for the past few years—thanks, Jenni!)

Feel free to talk among yourselves, especially about the implications of Operation Spiders Web, which (from here) looks like the defining moment for a very 21st century revolution in military affairs; one marking the transition from fossil fuel powered force projection to electromotive/computational force projection.

[syndicated profile] smartbitches_feed

Posted by SB Sarah

This piece of literary mayhem is exclusive to Smart Bitches After Dark, but fret not. If you'd like to join, we'd love to have you!

Have a look at our membership options, and come join the fun!

If you want to have a little extra fun, be a little more yourself, and be part of keeping the site open for everyone in the future, we can’t wait to see you in our new subscription-based section with exclusive content and events.

Everything you’re used to seeing at the Hot Pink Palace that is Smart Bitches Trashy Books will remain free as always, because we remain committed to fostering community among brilliant readers who love romance.

Morning Bunnies

Jun. 5th, 2025 09:27 am
kevin_standlee: One of the rabbits that live in the fields around Fernley House (Field Rabbit)
[personal profile] kevin_standlee
This morning when Kayla was on her way to breakfast, she spotted not one, but two rabbits in our field.

Read more... )

Mrs Nash Breaks Gender Rules

Jun. 5th, 2025 04:14 pm
[syndicated profile] alpennia_feed

Posted by Heather Rose Jones

Thursday, June 5, 2025 - 09:00

This chapter returns again to AMAB stories, focusing on the way those stories were explained away from the "real history" of the western frontier.

Major category: 
Full citation: 

Boag, Peter. 2011. Re-Dressing America's Frontier Past. University of California Press, Berkeley. ISBN 978-0-520-27062-6

Chapter 4 – “He Was a Mexican”: Race and the Marginalization of Male-to-Female Cross-Dressers in Western History

This chapter looks at one way in which male cross-dressers were sidelined in histories of the West—specifically, by focusing on racialized histories of cross-dressers, and so assigning the practice to non-white populations.

The biography that kicks off the chapter follows Mrs. Nash, a woman of Mexican origin. An army captain had hired Nash as a laundress in New Mexico and then recognized her some years later in 1868 in Kansas when she was presenting as a man, which she explained she had done out of economic necessity to get work driving ox teams across the plains. The captain once again hired her to do laundry for his troop, enabling her to return to female dress. In addition to having a great reputation for her laundry skills, she was in demand as a cook, specializing in tamales and baked goods. She also did sewing and dressmaking, making all her own clothing.

Nash spoke of having had two children back in Mexico who had died, but did not much like sharing quarters with children, though she also turned her hand to midwifery. With all these side hustles, she brought in a significant income, which had the unfortunate side-effect of attracting mercenary men who married her then absconded with her money. (This happened twice, once with the man who gave her the married surname of Nash.) Her third marriage was more successful. But after 4 or 5 years of marriage, Nash fell ill with appendicitis while her husband was away. Knowing the end was near, Nash asked for a priest and requested that she be buried quickly in whatever clothes she was wearing at the time. But after her death, her co-workers wanted to honor her better. When they were preparing the body for burial, they discovered that Nash had male anatomy, much to the astonishment of the witnesses. The army surgeon confirmed this observation. When her husband returned from patrol, he was questioned about his wife but indicated that he knew her to be a woman. He implied that they had a sexual relationship. But he was mocked and teased so relentlessly about his marriage that a month after Nash’s death he committed suicide.

After that, stories began being invented to explain Nash’s cross-dressing, including the assertion that it was a disguise to escape consequences for a mass murder. News accounts asked the question that confronts the “progress narrative:” what practical benefit would there be for a man to masquerade as a woman, losing male privilege and economic opportunity?

Notable in the news accounts is how Nash’s ethnicity (Mexican) was emphasized and highlighted. Along with this, she was assigned negative stereotypes that should have been contradicted by the regard her associates actually had for her.

This was a common pattern in accounts of male cross-dressing: if the person was not white, their race was emphasized; if white, it was not mentioned. (In one exception, the cross-dresser was noted as being white in the context that he regularly associated with Black men.)

After her death, accounts of Nash claimed that there had been suspicion about her sex, referencing unusual facial hair (and her habit of wearing a veil across her face), a large build, and a low voice. But these later claims are at odds with the genuine surprise felt during her laying out.

One racialized motif that was particularly prevalent was the “Mexican bandit” who cross-dressed to evade the law, invoking a stereotype of Mexican men as simultaneously criminal, deceitful, and unmanly. “Indian blood” was another motif that was invoked, drawing from genuine Native traditions of cross-gender social roles.

The Mexican motif also worked in the opposite direction, depicting Mexican men as unmanly because they were prone to cross-dressing.

Non-whites, in general, were “de-masculinized” by denying them the rights accorded to white men in American society, such as the right to own property and to vote.

A strong example of this was the feminizing of Chinese men. Due to migration patterns and motivations, the male-to-female ratio among Chinese immigrants was enormous, even before the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 froze immigration. Combined with anti-miscegenation laws, this meant that Chinese immigrant communities were largely all-male. Other factors that contributed to the feminization of Chinese men was a tendency to sparse facial hair, the long, braided hairstyle (but see the political history of the Chinese queue), and loose, non-European clothing styles. The exclusion from land-owning and many white-coded occupations, combined with the general scarcity of women in the West, forced many Chinese men into female-coded occupations such as cooking, laundry, and domestic service.

There was also a sexual element to the framing of racialized cross-dressers, as they were sometimes (whether accurately or not) accused of cross-dressing for the purpose of prostitution. Once again, this intertwined with white reactions to Native “berdache” traditions. (Although Native American alternate gender traditions also included women taking on a male social role, this does not appear to have become part of the official “story” about cross-dressed women.)

Another side of the fictionalization of Western masculinity was how it became a stand-in for what was perceived as an erosion of older models of masculinity. Becoming a “pseudo-cowboy” via reading and re-enacting Western literature created new models of manliness that were coded white. [Note: compare also the erasure of non-white “cowboys” from popular media.]

Overall, the narrative was: the West was “won” by virile (straight) white men. Non-whites were marginalized as villains, criminals, deviants, and effeminates, and queer men were subsumed to one or more of these. Thus “men” were all straight because anyone who wasn’t straight could be reclassified as “not a man.” Ideals of masculinity were equated with the “men of the West” which influenced even those not on the frontier to support and maintain these mythic archetypes as a historic reality that they could adopt as an image. [Note: see, for example, the “Marlboro man” which one could become by smoking the right brand of cigarettes.]

Touching back on the story of Mrs. Nash and her husband from the beginning of the chapter, the (white) husband’s sexuality was never questioned in the press, only his supposed gullibility (he didn’t know) or greed (he only cared about her income and cooking). He was normalized as a “regular man,” just as those who cross-dressed for dances or entertainment in all-male communities were normalized (regardless of their individual motivations).

There is a discussion of how the “progress narrative” (i.e., cross-dressing is done for social practicality) is gendered and breaks down when applied to men.

Time period: 
Place: 

Football, Vampires, & More

Jun. 5th, 2025 03:30 pm
[syndicated profile] smartbitches_feed

Posted by Amanda

The Rakess

RECOMMENDED: The Rakess by Scarlett Peckham is $1.99! Carrie read this one and have it an A-:

The combination of personal catnip with descriptive language and complex characterization is spot on. I recommend this for fans of vocal feminism, found family, angst, and explicit sex in their historicals. I plan to read my copy many, many times!

Meet the SOCIETY OF SIRENS—three radical, libertine ladies determined to weaponize their scandalous reputations to fight for justice and the love they deserve…

She’s a Rakess on a quest for women’s rights…

Seraphina Arden’s passions include equality, amorous affairs, and wild, wine-soaked nights. To raise funds for her cause, she’s set to publish explosive memoirs exposing the powerful man who ruined her. Her ideals are her purpose, her friends are her family, and her paramours are forbidden to linger in the morning.

He’s not looking for a summer lover…

Adam Anderson is a wholesome, handsome, widowed Scottish architect, with two young children, a business to protect, and an aversion to scandal. He could never, ever afford to fall for Seraphina. But her indecent proposal—one month, no strings, no future—proves too tempting for a man who strains to keep his passions buried with the losses of his past.

But one night changes everything…

What began as a fling soon forces them to confront painful secrets—and yearnings they thought they’d never have again. But when Seraphina discovers Adam’s future depends on the man she’s about to destroy, she must decide what to protect…her desire for justice, or her heart.

Add to Goodreads To-Read List →

You can find ordering info for this book here.

 

 

 

A Cruel Thirst

A Cruel Thirst by Angela Montoya is $1.99! I mentioned this one on Hide Your Wallet and fully admit I bought it for that gorgeous cover. Have any of you read this one?

A fledgling vampire and a headstrong vampire huntress must work together–against their better judgment–to rid the world of monsters in this irresistible romantic fantasy.

Carolina Fuentes wants to join her family in hunting the bloodthirsty vampiros that plague her pueblo. Her father, however, wishes to marry her off to a husband of his choosing, someone who’ll take her away from danger.

Determined to prove she’d make a better slayer than wife, Carolina vows to take down a monster herself. But when she runs into un vampiro that is somehow extremely attractive and kind, her plan crumbles.

Lalo Villalobos was content leading a perfectly dull life until un vampiro turned him. Now forced to flee his city, he heads to the pueblo where he believes the first vampiro was made. Surely its residents must know how to reverse this dreadful curse. Instead of finding salvation, Lalo collides with a beautiful young woman who’d gladly drive a dagger through his heart.

Fortunately, Lalo and Carolina share a common enemy. They can wipe out this evil. Together. If his fangs and her fists can stay focused, they might just triumph and discover what it feels like to take a bite out of love.

Add to Goodreads To-Read List →

You can find ordering info for this book here.

 

 

 

Playmaker

Playmaker by Deanna Faison is $2.99! This is a New Adult sports romance with a friends with benefits arrangement. This is book one in the Hidden Attractions series. The next book in the series is out this August.

Spring Break is about having fun–and a steamy friends with benefits relationship for Maddie and Cameron until they realize they might be falling in love. This BookTok sensation is perfect for fans of Hannah Grace’s Icebreaker and Tessa Bailey’s spicy rom-coms.

What started as a game just got serious.

Cameron’s a hot NFL prospect, and a total player on and off the field. But his moves don’t seem to work on Maddie. While she once crushed on him hard, that crush has since faded. She’s got big plans of her own and they don’t include him.

Then Spring Break turns their plans, and their feelings, upside down. Maddie and Cameron start a steamy affair, sneaking around behind their families’ backs. But there’s one big Maddie’s WAY overprotective brother–who happens to be Cameron’s BFF.

Will Cam be able to admit he’s got real feelings? Will Maddie ever be able to stand up to her brother and make her own decisions?

One thing’s for sure, their choices will change their life playbooks for good.

Based on the smash Webnovel, MY BROTHER’S BEST FRIEND, this spicy sports romance is sure to give readers a thrill.

Add to Goodreads To-Read List →

You can find ordering info for this book here.

 

 

 

A Problem Princess

A Problem Princess by Anna Harrington is $1.99! This is book six in the Lords of Armory series and features a bodyguard/princess romance. Are you a fan of this series?

Enter into a steamy, forbidden romance between a princess destined to marry a duke and her bodyguard—the one person she is sure she can trust and the man she’s passionately falling for.

General Clayton Elliott, Home Office Undersecretary and new viscount, gets suspicious when London is too quiet. Everyone says that the anarchist group he’s been fighting died along with its leader, but his instincts say just the opposite.

Then he meets Her Serene Highness Princess Cordelia of Monrovia. Resigned to doing her duty for her country, she is in London to make a match with a royal duke—whichever duke wants her. But when she is shockingly attacked at a party, Clayton becomes her bodyguard. Is there a connection between the evil group Scepter and whoever apparently wants the princess dead? While Clayton and Cordelia evade her enemies and pursue their individual missions, the more they realize they can depend only on each other…

Fans of Sarah MacLean, Elizabeth Hoyt, and Bridgerton won’t want to miss this adventurous, danger-filled Regency romance.

Add to Goodreads To-Read List →

You can find ordering info for this book here.

 

 

 

[personal profile] rolanni

I promised to post this before I left for BaltiCon, so that people could read what I intended to say.

It's worth noting here, for those of you who may someday be called upon to give a speech before a live audience, up on the stage, that, unless your eyes are much better than mine (not impossible), you won't be able to read your speech.  Memorize the Key Points.  Really.  It will save you some adrenaline.

So, here you are -- 630ish words.  Stage Directions in CAPS.

Sharon Lee Acceptance Speech, Heinlein Award, May 23, 2025

It's traditional on occasions like this to ask the people you meet, "What was YOUR first Balticon?"

Well. Some of you may not know this, but I'm FROM Baltimore, and for many years, BaltiCon was my Home Convention.

But my FIRST BaltiCon – that was Balticon TEN – in 1976.

At that time in my life, I had no idea that there were science fiction conventions, and no idea that there were science fiction fans. I wanted to be a writer – so I entered a short story contest.

PAUSE

And I won.

My prize was: Membership in Balticon 10, $25 in cash that I immediately spent on books in the dealers room, an introduction to that year's Guest of Honor – who was Isaac Asimov, and introductions to the judges of the short story contest.

One of the judges was a writer named Steve Miller, who happened to be running the art show. We spoke VERY briefly.

PAUSE

About a year later, I met Steve Miller again. We were by chance taking the same college writing course because we both wanted FINGER QUOTES "easy credits."

After class, we got to talking.

Then we moved in with each other.

AND THEN, we started to write together – as you do.

PAUSE

Now Steve -- STEVE was a science fiction fan. He was active in the Baltimore Science Fiction Society as the Club MOP – that's MINISTER OF PROPAGANDA – and vice chair of the Baltimore in 80 WorldCon bid. He was a writer and a reviewer. He'd also been a performance poet, AND the founding curator of the Kuhn Library Science Fiction Research Collection at the University of Maryland at Baltimore County.

PAUSE

The point of all this being that – by the time I met him, Steve had read an Awful Lot of science fiction.

I was a reader, and I'd read SOME science fiction, including a book by some guy named Robert Heinlein – CITIZEN OF THE GALAXY.

PAUSE

WHICH? I didn't like.

So, I was – a little surprised when we were shelving books together in OUR apartment to see QUITE A NUMBER of titles by this Heinlein guy in Steve's MANY boxes of books.

PAUSE

Now, we had a LOT of duplicate titles.

But the only duplicate Heinlein title – in fact the ONLY Heinlein title in MY many boxes of books – was STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND.

"So this Heinlein guy – is he any good?" I asked.

Steve looked at me – you know the Look? The LIBRARIAN DEATH STARE where they're trying to figure out How Much You Can Take?

Then he reached into a box, grabbed some books and started to make a pile next to my knee.

THE MOON IS A HARSH MISTRESS
THE ROLLING STONES
STAR BEAST
BETWEEN PLANETS
THE DOOR INTO SUMMER
GLORY ROAD

"That'll get you started," he said.

Well. It was ONLY six books, and I was in love. I read them – AND THEN YES I READ THE REST, because this guy Heinlein DID have something going for him. His books were FUN.

This is key. We tend to discount FUN, as if it lessens the value of whatever we're doing, instead of being one of the most important things in life.

PAUSE AND LOOK OUT OVER THE AUDIENCE

I mentioned that Steve and I began to write together. We wrote together for over forty years, collaborating on MORE THAN 100 Published Works -- BECAUSE IT WAS FUN. Our pact was that we'd stop when it WASN'T fun anymore.

PAUSE

So, there we were writing, and having fun, and in 2003 we were invited to attend BaltiCon 37 as Writer Guests of Honor.

PAUSE

That was fun, too.

In 2016, we came back to help celebrate BaltiCon's 50th anniversary.

And now – BaltiCon 59.

LOOK OUT OVER THE AUDIENCE

Thank you, BaltiCon. My life would have been MUCH different without you.

TURN TO BEATRICE IF SHE'S STILL ON STAGE

Thank YOU, Heinlein Board, for choosing to honor the universe Steve and I built together.

TURN TO AUDIENCE

And most of all – THANK YOU – for reading – for listening – and for having fun.

PAUSE; GATHER PAPERS

Have a good con.

--end--

For comparison purposes, here's the link to what I Actually Said.


[personal profile] rolanni

What went before ONE: I have achieved and sited roses. The tiny one is the baby from the front garden. The yellow one is True Kindness, which is a hybrid tea rose, said to be hardy, disease resistant and heat tolerant.

If this works out, I'll try an heirloom rose.

I have also registered for the watercolor class and conquered the rest of my errands, save the bank, which is a Phone Call.

What went before TWO: So! I have a couple more things to do to catch up with Real Life, but it looks like I'll be going back to work on Friday. Yeah, Friday; and I'll probably be working all weekend, too, because my boss is a witch, man.

Tomorrow will be a Hide from the Heat day, because 90F/32C, and sunny. Friday will be a little cooler and cloudy, and then Saturday it will be SIGnificantly cooler, with rain. So, it's not like I'll be missing a Great Weekend on anything.

I have taken the Executive Decision to put twinkle lights up in the living room. Those should arrive tomorrow, and will be something to do In-Between.

Rookie very responsibly made his annual vet appointment for July. I'm so proud of him. Trooper is calling for Happy Hour, but he still has a little while to wait.
. . . and that's the evening report.

Everybody stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.

#

Thursday. Sunny and already warm enough by my reckoning. The weatherbeans are calling for Warmer, and a thunderstorm or two.

I had hoped that the Corning trip would serve as a buffer against meltdowns, as I came home from a con without Steve, and, indeed, emotions have taken their time catching up. Unfortunately, this morning it all kind of hit like a dump truck. Firefly just brought me her orange chew-and-chase thing, which is of course a Great Comfort.

Today, I'll be doing normal quiet things -- hanging away the laundry, making a pot of rice, doing one's duty to the cats. I have two phone calls to make, and that will be my limit on Real World Business today.

There had been a call for me to post the text of my speech, so it can be compared to what I actually said. I'll try to get that done -- just a cut 'n paste.

The coon cats have put their plans for the day into motion. What're your plans?

Today's blog title brought to you by Billy Joel: "Allentown"


[personal profile] james_davis_nicoll
When a woman looked around her for her husband, who had been right behind her on the stairs but was now nowhere to be seen. I was very worried I was facing a repeat of the time not too long ago when I spent an hour looking for a missing patron.

The missing husband turned out not to have been behind his wife on the stairs after all, so mystery solved. The missing patron I spent that hour looking for was found once I thought about where she had to be to have not been found where we looked: row H or J, somewhere near seat 26.
[personal profile] james_davis_nicoll


An arduous journey in a prince's entourage offers a courier escape from immediate, judicial danger, at the cost of an entirely different assortment of dangers.


The Witch Roads (The Witch Roads, volume 1) by Kate Elliott

NDP display firm resolve

Jun. 5th, 2025 09:04 am
james_davis_nicoll: (Default)
[personal profile] james_davis_nicoll
Pursuing their vow to bring down the government, NDP ... do nothing of the sort.

I wonder if they got phone calls from voters expressing their displeasure at the prospect of an election so soon after the previous one?

The God and the Gumiho by Sophie Kim

Jun. 5th, 2025 06:00 am
[syndicated profile] smartbitches_feed

Posted by Carrie S

TW/CW

TW: deception, murder, mutilation and consumption of corpses by mythological figures, sequel-bait

Ed note: NOT SEQUEL BAIT!!!! 

This dreamy book is so much fun! The God and the Gumiho features Korean mythology, grumpy/sunshine, secrets, and of course Only One Bed. While I did I find this book to be somewhat slow going, I also found it to be deeply imaginative and delightful. It’s the first in a series, so the HEA is more of a Happy Ever Eventually Probably. The second book, The God and the Gwisin, ( A | BN | K | AB ) came out on June 3, 2025.

This book is loosely based on Korean mythology. I’m not familiar with Korean mythology, so for me this was a real treat, full of surprises. I’ve never felt such cozy vibes from a story that involves supernatural beings consuming human livers (gumihos have specific tastes). This story is often violent and horrifying. However, it’s also full of humor and affection and a fantastic and funny romance between the very grumpy Seokga and the very sweet (other than her occasional liver, uh, procurement and consumption) Hani. All of the characters are endearing (other than the Big Bad whose identity I shall not reveal).

Even though this is a mystery with a lot of plot to it, I found it took me longer than usual to finish this book. Perhaps it was simply that I was tired. Perhaps it was that the entire book felt like a dream. I can’t say enough how much I loved the worlds in the book (1990’s Korea and the mythical world) and how much I enjoyed the interactions between the characters. It felt fully immersive and incredibly creative, but also easy to wander away from and come back to. I’m excited to read the sequel!

Trip and Trip Again

Jun. 4th, 2025 07:21 pm
kevin_standlee: (Kevin and Lisa)
[personal profile] kevin_standlee
I got the notification from Bank of America that the Euros I ordered were ready to collect, so this afternoon, Lisa and I drove to Reno/Sparks to collect it. First we went to drop off the recycling, because Lyon County has no collection nor drop-off for any sort of recycling, and the Washoe County (Reno) drop-off closes at 3 PM. After doing that, we drove over to the Sparks Bank of America. There I realized to my horror that I'd left my wallet at home! I went ahead and drove home (being careful to stay under the speed limit) and as we neared home, I thought that possibly we could get my wallet and get back to Sparks before the bank closed at 5 PM.

We got my wallet and we headed back to Reno, which just under an hour before the bank closed. Just as we passed USA Parkway (the road from the giant Tahoe-Reno Industrial Center, traffic ground to a halt. Apparently lots of businesses change shifts at 4 PM, and they all flooded onto westbound I-80. There are no alternative routes.

It would be several miles before the next exit, so we just ground our way along. The traffic started to speed up again, and we concluded that there was no accident or incident blocking traffic: just too many cars and big rigs for the freeway to handle. We decided to see if we could possibly get to the bank, which is on the east side of the Reno/Sparks metro area, before they closed. Somewhat to my surprise, we got there with just under ten minutes to spare.

There were no other customers in the branch. The clerk went to the vault, got the cash, counted it out for me, and I signed for it and left, with them locking up as I left. Whew!

I suggested to Lisa that we go to the Sparks Nugget and get our favorite meal there, the shrimp pan roast at John's Oyster Bar. The restaurant is named for John Ascuaga, who built the Nugget and grew it until he and his children sold it to corporate interests when John retired. We like that the casino kept the name of the Oyster Bar and preserved its nautically-themed decor.

It had been a long time since Lisa and I had been there together. We initially had the place all to ourselves, but more people arrived while we were eating.

Lisa initially wanted to go grocery shopping, but in deference to my having to work tomorrow, agreed that we should just go home. Amazingly, the heavy westbound (toward Reno) traffic from USA Parkway was still creeping along on freeway, but westbound (toward Fernley) was wide open. We'll go back for groceries in a few days.
[personal profile] sovay
Thanks to the Canadian wildfires, our sunset light is Pompeiian red, by which I mean mostly the cinnabar and heat-treated smolder of the pigment, but also the implication of volcano.

Because my day was scrambled by a canceled appointment, after I had made a lot of phone calls [personal profile] spatch took me for soft-serve ice cream in the late afternoon, and once home I walked out to photograph some poppies I had seen from the car.

Did you love mimesis? )

I can't help feeling that last night's primary dream emerged from a fender-bender in the art-horror 1970's because once the photographer who had done his aggressive and insistently off-base best to involve me in a blackmail scandal had killed himself, all of a sudden the hotel where I had been attending a convention with my husbands had a supernatural problem. Waking in the twenty-first century, I appreciate it could be solved eventually with post-mortem mediation rather than exorcistic violence, but it feels like yet another subgenre intruding that the psychopomp for the job was a WWI German POW.

Bundle of Holding: Inevitable

Jun. 4th, 2025 02:32 pm
james_davis_nicoll: (Default)
[personal profile] james_davis_nicoll


The core rulebook in .PDF from SOULMUPPET

Bundle of Holding: Inevitable

Links: Bookshelf Decor, Tea, & More

Jun. 4th, 2025 06:00 pm
[syndicated profile] smartbitches_feed

Posted by Amanda

Workspace with computer, journal, books, coffee, and glasses.Happy Wednesday, everyone!

Thank you all for the lovely comments on my dress. Now begins the waiting game until it arrives, while I hem and haw over shoe choices. I’m thankful we’re eloping, so I don’t have to factor in the many hours I’ll need to be on my feet.

I mentioned this in the Hide Your Wallet comments yesterday, but SBTB Summer Romance Bingo will be returning this year. The bingo card will be revealed on Saturday and the official start is on June 20th. Plan accordingly!

If you’ve been looking for other places to shop for things that aren’t Amazon, Target, etc., I’ve found this IG account that lists other retailers for specific categories of items like Pride merch, kitchen gadgets, and more.

How cute are these bookshelf tavern signs? I’m also curious how many people organize their shelves by genre.

Another Instagram account that the algorithm served me: A Mug of Life. The account owner travels around England and offers to share a thermos of tea with strangers. If you love accounts like Humans of New York or Meet Cutes NYC, you may want to follow this one.

 Bless this boyfriend and how confused he seemed by a diva cup.

@ellareames the eyelash curler @Billy Howard ♬ original sound – Ella Reames

Don’t forget to share what cool or interesting things you’ve seen, read, or listened to this week! And if you have anything you think we’d like to post on a future Wednesday Links, send it my way!

Northwards

Jun. 4th, 2025 01:02 pm
sartorias: (Default)
[personal profile] sartorias
I was taking to a felow customer when I stopped for sandwiches while strolling around downtown Albany last night, and when I commented on the deepeness of the verdure around me--I can't get enough of it--he said that it's been a very wet season here.

I took a walk along the Hudson, stopping at a little side canal, or whatever they are called, when I saw a bridge and inviting shadows (the sun was overly warm and the hair humid and kind of dirty). I snapped this shot:



If it works right, and you embiggen, look just above the top branch of the fallen tree. I'd spotted a pair of geeze swimming toward it, and thought they'd make a splendid shot framed by the two branches. But they never emerged from behind the top one, some twenty feet below me and upstream. I could see the ripples from them paddling, but no sign of the geese.

When I looked closer, I just spotted a black and white goose head peeking at me from beyond that branch. They were clearly waiting for the monster to lurk somewhere else.

And now I'm on my way northwards toward Montreal, which I should reach this evening.
[syndicated profile] alpennia_feed

Posted by Heather Rose Jones

Wednesday, June 4, 2025 - 08:00

History must not only be studied, but continually re-studied and re-surfaced. We have all seen how easy it is for something "obvious" to become memory-holed even in as short a time as the last five years. How much easier when the primary sources were shaky to begin with and the myth-makers have a social and political agenda that they may not be entirely conscious of themselves. How easy it is to re-write history "as it should have been" (a phrase that has always grated on me in the context of the Society for Creative Anachronism, regardless of the direction of one's "should").

Major category: 
Full citation: 

Boag, Peter. 2011. Re-Dressing America's Frontier Past. University of California Press, Berkeley. ISBN 978-0-520-27062-6

Part Two – “The Story of the Perverted Life is Not Attractive”: Making the American West and the Frontier Heteronormative -- Chapter 3 – “And Love is a Vision and Life is a Lie”: The Daughters of Calamity Jane

This section of the book examines how the reality of cross-dressing in the West was erased from the historic record. As usual, the chapter begins with a detailed biography.

Joe Monahan died of a sudden illness in rural Idaho in 1903. The friends who prepared him for burial were surprised that he had a female body and buried him quietly. But another local felt that Monahan had been done a disservice and brought the matter to the attention of a newspaper, extoling his ordinary, virtuous life. Few facts were known about him at that time and only a few more can be found in the archives. He was born around 1850, probably in New York, and had been living in Idaho since at least 1870. He was spotty about picking up his mail—but he did receive mail—and had voted in 1880. (Women did not have the vote in Idaho at that time.) An acquaintance noted that the letters he received were possibly from a sister in Buffalo New York, to whom he wrote occasionally. This friend wrote to an official in Buffalo hoping to locate his family (in part, to deal with his estate). This turned up a foster mother and foster sister, who confirmed that “Johanna Monahan” had gone West around age 14 and had corresponded regularly. Their letters were later found in Monahan’s cabin.

But searching the archives in Buffalo for a Johanna Monahan only added some further confusion about her birth family and identity. In any event, the foster mother reported that Monahan’s mother had dressed her in boy’s clothes and had her earn a living with jobs typically performed by boys. When her foster mother took Monahan in, he was sent to school. In her version, Monahan left in 1869 first to California, then to Idaho.

As the story made its way into the Idaho media, other people began adding details to Monahan’s history, including that many had suspected he was a woman but no one made a fuss about it. People in that region were aware of many cross-dressing women, for various reasons. Even in correspondence discussing this issue, Monahan’s associates used male pronouns for him.

All of this is backstory for how Monahan’s story was picked up in popular media. In the 1950s, Monahan’s story was revived in newspapers, theater, and eventually movies with the 1993 film The Ballad of Little Jo, all of which include a large amount of invention and no hint of queerness. Monahan is made fully heterosexual and “man troubles” are offered as the motivation for her transformation.

This framing was begun in 1904 when uneasiness about the sexual implications of cross-dressing led newspapers to “reclaim” Monahan as essentially feminine, including fake images in a hoopskirt and an invented romantic betrayal by a man. (The fiction is embellished by many details with no connection to Monahan’s actual history, including the addition of an illegitimate child.)

The chapter moves on to provide more examples of how the actual biographies of cross-dressing women were re-written in the late 19th and early 20th century to disarm concerns about gender and sexuality.

Existing fictional genres were adapted, such as the seduction motif in which the woman both flees and cross-dresses to escape her shame. Such a fiction was assigned to Charley Parkhurst when a post-mortem not only identified his bodily sex but indicated a previous pregnancy. (Motherhood was a strong motif for feminizing the subject.)

Dime novels of the 1870s were fond of using heterosexual relationships as the motivation for cross-dressing, as with fictionalizations of the life of Martha Jane Canary (Calamity Jane). The real life Canary rarely cross-dressed and identified as female, but her fictional twin is more cagey, implying either inversion or non-binary identity, and cross-dressing regularly in order to hunt down the man who betrayed her.

Several other fictional examples of “betrayal and escape” or “betrayal and revenge” are listed. Such stories solidly establish the heterosexual credentials of their heroines. Such overt inventions then sometimes were resurrected as “true” news stories.

Fictional cross-dressing narratives sometimes re-normalized their protagonists with marriage and a return to female presentation. Often this includes a return to the urban East, symbolically localizing cross-dressing to the peculiar logistics and needs of Western life.

Another subgenre involves a woman cross-dressing to join a male lover in criminal activities—a genre that has roots in a number of actual biographies. (Note: these are all cited from newspaper accounts, and it’s unclear whether the author considers them wholly fictional or simply sensationalized and “straightened.”)

Even as the fictional genre of cross-dressing women came to popularity, the acceptance of real-life cross-dressing women waned, with women in San Francisco and other locations facing arrest for cross-dressing by the early 20th century.

The chapter concludes with a discussion of whether cross-dressing destabilized gender or enforces it by aligning activities and characteristics rigidly with gender presentation. I.e., women could participate in the “Wild West” but only as men. This alignment must then be undermined by re-feminizing the participants once they were separated (by time, space, or reality) from the actual frontier.

Time period: 
Place: 
Event / person: 

The Hair Calamity

Jun. 4th, 2025 03:06 pm
[syndicated profile] ilonaandrews_blog_feed

Posted by Ilona

I received a surprising number of questions regarding my hair. I’ve addressed it on Facebook, but a lot of people don’t use it. I color my hair because I’m going grey. A lot of people look lovely with grey hair. I’m not one of them. I’ve tried to grow it out and it is terrible on me. My mother was blond, so you would think it would work, but I guess I lean more into my dad’s side of the family.

Anyway, I usually go to a salon and this time I asked for a slightly different color. Everything seemed fine for a few of weeks. I was distracted by work and other things and the hair was the last thing on my mind.

Then we needed a new author picture because ours was too old. And we needed it it kind of quickly because of the UK press release, so I decided that I should probably recolor the hair. As I was examining my lackluster hair in the mirror, I realized that I have a lock of hair that is two inches longer than the rest of what I could see. That was not normal.

I made an appointment at a different salon. They were able to fit me in quickly, so I was really happy about it. I came in, sat down int he chair, the stylist looked at my head and said, “There is extensive damage.”

My hair broke off. We are not sure what went wrong. She thought a wrong developer might have been used by mistake. Anyway, four inches of hair had to go.

Here I am with preliminary cut, looking kind of alarmed. As you can see, I am in my hedge witch era here.

I texted Gordon and told him my hair will be short. He asked if I was getting a “Can I talk to the manager?” haircut. I asked my stylist and she said, “Of course, not.”

I think the hair really turned out. I love the color. I miss the length, but it is healthy, light, and I can still ponytail it.

Here it is in the author pics:

The last time I had my hair this short, I was 12. I was worried about what would happen if it naturally dried, but it’s not too bad. I will just have to style it a bit more for the formal meetings.

And that is the hair saga.

PS. If you are looking for a good salon in San Marcos, Salon MINK is awesome. Ask for Jessica.

The post The Hair Calamity first appeared on ILONA ANDREWS.

Horror, Amanda Quick, & More

Jun. 4th, 2025 03:30 pm
[syndicated profile] smartbitches_feed

Posted by Amanda

The Night Circus

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern is $1.99! This fantasy novel was everywhere when it came out and does seem to have romantic elements. While the setting captured readers’ attentions, some wished it had more emotional depth.

Two starcrossed magicians engage in a deadly game of cunning in The Night Circus, the spellbinding bestseller that has captured the world’s imagination.

The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not. Within the black-and-white striped canvas tents is an utterly unique experience full of breathtaking amazements. It is called Le Cirque des Rêves, and it is only open at night.

But behind the scenes, a fierce competition is underway: a duel between two young magicians, Celia and Marco, who have been trained since childhood expressly for this purpose by their mercurial instructors. Unbeknownst to them both, this is a game in which only one can be left standing. Despite the high stakes, Celia and Marco soon tumble headfirst into love, setting off a domino effect of dangerous consequences, and leaving the lives of everyone, from the performers to the patrons, hanging in the balance.

Add to Goodreads To-Read List →

You can find ordering info for this book here.

 

 

 

Ravished

Ravished by Amanda Quick is $1.99! This is a historical romance with some Beauty and the Beast vibes, which many readers loved. However, other readers felt the heroine’s characterization was a bit inconsistent with constant mood changes. Have you read this one?

From the cozy confines of a tiny seaside village to the glittering crush of the a fashionable London soiree comes an enthralling tale of a thoroughly mismatched couple . . . poised to discover the rapture of love.

There was no doubt about it. What Miss Harriet Pomeroy needed was a man. Someone powerful and clever who could help her rout the unscrupulous thieves who were using her beloved caves to hide their loot. But when Harriet summoned Gideon Westbrook, Viscount St. Justin, to her aid, she could not know that she was summoning the devil himself. . . .

Dubbed the Beast of Blackthorne Hall for his scarred face and lecherous past, Gideon was strong and fierce and notoriously menacing. Yet Harriet could not find it in her heart to fear him. For in his tawny gaze she sensed a savage pain she longed to soothe . . . and a searing passion she yearned to answer. Now, caught up in the Beast’s clutches, Harriet must find a way to win his heart–and evade the deadly trap of a scheming villain who would see them parted for all time.

Add to Goodreads To-Read List →

You can find ordering info for this book here.

 

 

 

Silver Nitrate

Silver Nitrate by Silvia Moreno-Garcia is $1.99! This released a couple summers ago. Moreno-Garcia always has some interesting setups for her horror and mystery novels and I think does a good job creating a sense of place and time.

From the New York Times bestselling author of The Daughter of Doctor Moreau and Mexican Gothic comes a fabulous meld of Mexican horror movies and Nazi occultism: a dark thriller about the curse that haunts a legendary lost film–and awakens one woman’s hidden powers.

Montserrat has always been overlooked. She’s a talented sound editor, but she’s left out of the boys’ club running the film industry in ’90s Mexico City. And she’s all but invisible to her best friend, Tristán, a charming if faded soap opera star, though she’s been in love with him since childhood.

Then Tristán discovers his new neighbor is the cult horror director Abel Urueta, and the legendary auteur claims he can change their lives—even if his tale of a Nazi occultist imbuing magic into highly volatile silver nitrate stock sounds like sheer fantasy. The magic film was never finished, which is why, Urueta swears, his career vanished overnight. He is cursed.

Now the director wants Montserrat and Tristán to help him shoot the missing scene and lift the curse . . . but Montserrat soon notices a dark presence following her, and Tristán begins seeing the ghost of his ex-girlfriend.

As they work together to unravel the mystery of the film and the obscure occultist who once roamed their city, Montserrat and Tristán may find that sorcerers and magic are not only the stuff of movies.

Add to Goodreads To-Read List →

You can find ordering info for this book here.

 

 

 

Pole Position

Pole Position by Rebecca J. Caffery is 99c! This was an indie published romance that received a paperback release earlier this year. I believe Dahlia mentioned this in her queer romance posts.

Kian Walker has always been the golden boy of motorsport. The four-time Championship winner has racing in his DNA – his father was a legend on the track, just don’t let him catch you comparing the two. As reckless and unreliable at home as he was behind the wheel, there’s nothing Kian wants less than to be just like his dad.

Enter Harper James. This year’s rookie called up to compete with the big boys – and Kian’s new teammate. Cocky, hot-headed and with a reputation for breaking as many hearts as he does new track records, Harper’s the opposite of Kian in every way. But when the season starts, there’s no getting away from him.

This might be one of the most dangerous sports in the world, so why then does Kian’s heart feel safer flying around the track at 220mph than when he’s anywhere near his teammate?

Add to Goodreads To-Read List →

You can find ordering info for this book here.

 

 

 

November 2020

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Words To Live By

There is no frigate like a book to take us lands away. ~Emily Dickinson

Being a writer is a very peculiar sort of a job: it’s always you versus a blank sheet of paper (or a blank screen) and quite often the blank piece of paper wins. ~Neil Gaiman

Of course I am not worried about intimidating men. The type of man who will be intimidated by me is exactly the type of man I have no interest in. ~Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

The road to hell is paved with adverbs. ~Stephen King

The man who does not read has no advantage over the man who cannot read. ~Mark Twain

I feel free and strong. If I were not a reader of books I could not feel this way. ~Walter Tevis

A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one. ~George R.R. Martin

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