BronxWench

Chapter 12 I suppose I should begin by saying that you certainly know how to draw out the suspense of a thing. If Valentina doesn't get through the ritual next chapter, you WILL find me camped on your doorstep. ::huffs a little:: Now, on to the actual review part for a bit. It certainly feels like Valentina's stepping into a place she might not want to be. Granted, this ritual is her only chance to reclaim Aneurin, but what a cast of characters. Islwyn hates her for being Aneurin's and for taking Aneurin from him. Aneurin gambled that his love would be stronger than the curse, and he lost. Yorwrath both loves Valentina and hates her for reawakening his ability to love, something he had thought dead with his wife. And Caoilfionn still doesn't tell all he knows, does he? The unicorn is as duplicitous as the druid. I'm almost dreading what's to come. I don't think any of them will get what they want from this ritual, and it might possibly make everything worse by destroying any vestiges of hope for a future without grief and pain. Wicked, wicked woman...

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Just sit him on the porch with a glass of sweet tea and let him chat to the neighbors...

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He just always has to be different, doesn't he?

Well, real estate's more expensive up here in carpetbagger country. Tell magus that his bracers are ducky with me. And we call those tool belts up here, not fanny packs.

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My uncle was a true character, the gods love him. My sister actually lives in Hertfordshire, so I consider myself bilingual in both English and American, and you're right. There are so many things that don't translate, like a friend of mine offering to knock someone up, which is NOT taken the same way here at all. I live in a flat,and also have a semi-detached lake bungalow for summer. Both are roughly 93 square meters, which is family-sized, really. My neighborhood is largely detached houses and terraced houses. And I tend to say some sore of farewell at the end of phone conversations, particularly for business. Otherwise I wouldn't get much business, would I? Fanny packs should actually not even exist, being something best left to those tourists who wear white socks with their sandals, and want to know why they can't get McDonald's everywhere. But pants are trousers, and often come complete with suspenders, which is what we call bracers. And it just gets worse from there...

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Actually, the song's not a common Christmas song here, but if you look at the first appearance of the NYPD Emerald Society band in the official video of the tune, the fellow playing the large drum with the band logo is my Uncle Tommy.

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Seriously...

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