Tuesday after Easter
Paolo and Clarissa invited me, well, us, to their wedding. Isn’t that sweet? Of course we’ll go. That is, if Xav’s not busy. He hasn’t really worked out what he’ll be doing yet, now that the two-faced snake is out of our hair.
It took me awhile to figure it out, way back when. It’s taking me awhile this second time around, too. Sundae’s is great. I’m sure I won’t stop doing it, but I’m considering taking on a partner. There’s more I can do with my powers. Like helping couples who want to get pregnant. Or starting bee gardens, regrowing cleared rain forest, or wildfire burns… bringing light to those who just need a little push to make it through ’til dawn. Read On
No wonder Sam and Noah’s basket was so hard! I should’ve known. Even without my memories, I should’ve guessed that I couldn’t see backward because another supernatural had been screwing with their destinies. Of course the blood streaked through the web was a vampire. What else would it be?
Xav keeps telling me not to be so hard on myself. He’s probably right. After all, they did get their sexily (and happily) ever after rebooted. I found a way to make a new beginning for them even without knowing everything there was to know. And curses and geas are meant to tangle the skeins. It’s how they work. Read On
after Easter 2014
Xav’s asleep, or powered down or whatever it is that he does when he seems to be asleep. I’d stay in bed — and who wouldn’t with six foot four, two hundred and fifteen pounds of a purring lion of a man waiting for her? — but an order came in last night, and the story wound its tendrils around my heart and won’t let go.
A man cheating on the woman he’s sworn to love and cherish is bad enough. Cheating on her with her best friend is appalling. No matter what was wrong in their relationship, there’s absolutely no excuse. If Xav slept with Mo–without me there, anyhow–I would scatter his data back to his beginnings. Not that he ever would. Read On
Palm Sunday, evening
Carrie and Dean have love. They know they’re meant to be together. But they still can’t quite make it work. Dean doesn’t see it, he doesn’t know what’s wrong, and Carrie doesn’t know how to say it without going up in flames. The dragon complicates things, but it’s Carrie’s trust issues that are the bigger problem.
I’ve been struggling with this. Looking for the right vehicle to get them *talking*. Dean’s willing. He won’t make it a chore. But he has no idea where to start. I’m not sure Carrie even knows what she needs to talk about. A couple of Mai Tais, or some sangria, tequila would be best–and instructions to act like nosy friends…to ask anything and everything, no holds barred, nothing off limits and too drunk to lie. Read On
On the phone, on hold. Trying to find alstroemeria (Peruvian Lily, means prosperity, but also friendship, which is the key here; Sesha needs Kellan to be her friend first) anywhere in April can be a stretch. But in Northern Canada? Easier to find hospitality in Sodom. (I tried to find an inn one time, and had to stay in a stable…wait, that’s someone else’s story.)
Oh, that’s perfect. That postcard…it’s what Hawk needs, absolutely. To love himself first. Poor thing can’t find a decent man to save his life, but the right one is going to knock on his door. Joe’s perfect, but Hawk’s got too much baggage. Read On