#a lady's guide to fortune hunting

[edwardslovelyelizabeth]

A Lady's Guide to Fortune-Hunting by Sophie Irwin

“And little though you may care,” he added severely before he shut the door, “in polite society, it is considered highly inappropriate for an unmarried woman to be seen visiting an unmarried man’s house, maid or no maid.” She gave an extravagant roll of her eyes. “Dear lord, city dwellers are easily so scandalized. Do you think it’s the lack of fresh air?”

[sea-owl]

Started a new book called A Lady's Guide To Fortune-Hunting by Sophia Irwin.

I'm enjoying it so far. Kitty is a treat, and without even knowing the birth order of her and her sisters, you can tell she's the firstborn daughter. I enjoy being able to see her thought process as she reads people and schemes to her advantage.

For those curious, our female lead Katherine, Kitty, Tabolt had just been jilted out of a very good financial match when her fiance came to call off the engagement after two years. Now, with a mountain of debt from two dead parents who had their own scandal on the way to the altar, four younger sisters to protect, and their house at risk of being taken Kitty makes her way to London to find a new rich husband. She sets her sights on the second born son of the de Lacey family, but his older brother, the Earl, is gonna give her a run for her money.

[orlissa]

I’ve started a book titled A Lady’s Guide to Fortune Hunting, and it’s an absolute delight (similiar setting to P&P, but our heroine is using every trick in the book to catch a rich husband and quick), and I went to check if the author has any other books. She doesn’t, I only found the same book in different languages, and listen... I mean, I hate the Hungarian title, because the “fortune hunting” part is translated as “hozományvadász” and “hozomány” is “dowry,” which doesn’t make much sense, given that the dowry is something the bride brings into the marriage, but I’m absolutely in love with the Italian title:

Manuale per signorine in cerca di un marito (ricco)

or

Guide for ladies looking for a (rich) husband

[morgan--reads]

A Lady’s Guide to Fortune-Hunting - Sophie Irwin

Summary: Desperate to save her family home and provide for her sisters, Kitty travels to London with a single goal: to marry a wealthy man. Her early successes in society attract the unwelcome attention of Lord Radcliffe, who recognizes her as a fortune hunter and is determined to ruin her plans. 

Quote: “I will always choose my sisters. I will choose their need more than my want every day. But I want you just as much as I need money. You see me, in my entirety - the worst and the best of me - as no one else ever has.”

My rating: 3.5/5.0   Goodreads: 3.93/5.0

Review: The romance is not the strength of this romance novel, which is something I’m noticing more and more in the genre. Kitty's determination and strength of character is what holds the book together and her practical, nuanced approach to life is refreshing. The very real pressure she’s under to marry well and quickly means that the book never manages to be totally light and breezy, despite the fun banter and some humorous moments. The happy ending is a little rushed, but the way Kitty and Radcliffe’s strengths and values are highlighted is moving and it’s a relief to have the tension of the plot disperse into a happily ever after.

[mistwraiths]

5 stars

I super enjoyed this! I am a simple woman. Give me regency woman trying to find a fortune/husband and I will usually love it.

This did everything it was supposed to. It made me grin, laugh, and feel. The part where they drop EVERYTHING and help each other's siblings without another THOUGHT because they couldn't bear it for the other. I LOVED.

The banter was good. I loved Kitty and her devotion to her family and her single minded determination to get what she wants and succeed was so refreshing. James constantly underestimating her and trying to both botch and help her succeed was great too.

Super excited about the second book!

[painted-kneecaps]

BOOKS MY BEST FRIEND BOOKS. I CANT BELIEVE I EVER LET MYSELF STOP READING BOOKS. I AM GOING TO CONSUME BOOKS SO RAVENOUSLY FROM THIS DAY FORTH

[mercerislandbooks]

Book Notes: A Lady’s Guide to Scandal

Following Becca’s blog on what makes a good summer read, Sophie Irwin’s new historical romance, A Lady’s Guide to Scandal, fits each specification on Becca’s list and then some. I readily admit that a historical romance set in England is hard for me to pass up, but I was also very interested to see how Sophie Irwin would follow her debut novel, A Lady’s Guide to Fortune-Hunting, which I’d thoroughly enjoyed last summer. In A Lady's Guide to Scandal, Sophie Irwin has surpassed herself, delivering a Regency romance with all the traditional elements, while making it so much more.

Lady Eliza Somerset, having married a much older man to oblige her family and not her own heart, finds herself widowed ten years later and unexpectedly in possession of quite a large fortune. Unfortunately said fortune comes with a morality clause and the reappearance of her first love, Oliver. Because of course Oliver's uncle is the man Eliza married for duty, and having had no children, the estate and the title pass to Oliver as the new Lord Somerset. Given these challenging circumstances, Eliza takes the opportunity to escape her overbearingly ambitious family and take up residence in Bath. With her cousin Margaret very properly as chaperone, Eliza intends to finish out the last three months of her mourning and snatch at some measure of freedom for the first time in her life. As Eliza is not of Jane Austen’s mindset when it comes to Bath (Jane was not a fan), she takes to city living immediately -- going to concerts, taking the waters, making new acquaintances, and privately taking up her old passion of painting. But when the scandalous and handsome Lord Melville comes to town, followed shortly by the new Lord Somerset, Eliza’s recently discovered liberty is threatened, as well as her heart.

At first I thought I was getting a redo of Persuasion, when we started off with the love given up for duty returning, from the sea no less. It soon became clear that Irwin was interested in doing more than simply reworking Austen. Her cast contains a diversity that isn't just for show, but rather explored thoughtfully within the time period. She doesn't shy away from calling the marriage mart what it is, bartering young women for social and monetary advantage. All the while she grows the character of Eliza from a dutiful and repressed daughter to a woman aware of her own desires. It was delightful to see the pleasure that Eliza takes in each small rebellion against the strictures she’s lived with her entire life. Every time she makes a choice simply to please herself I wanted to cheer. Playful language, an undeniable humor, and poignant self-discovery all made A Lady's Guide to Scandal one of my favorite reads of the summer!

— Lori

[wearethekat]

December Book Reviews: A Lady's Guide to Fortune-Hunting by Sophie Irwin

Picked up this regency romance because it had a very pretty cover (I'm a sucker for pretty covers). After the death of her parents, Kitty Talbot is left with four younger sisters-- and a mountain of debt. In true Regency style, she plots to infiltrate high society and snare a rich husband. Will she manage to convince the earl's naive younger brother to marry her-- or will his suspicious (and handsome) older brother manage to discover her lies and plunge her into scandal?

This is not a particularly surprising nor innovative book (regency romances usually aren't.) But it executes familiar tropes well, and with a charm and sparkle that makes it stand out from its peers. Also, I like Kitty's mercenary ruthlessness. She's in a genuinely terrible position and she should be allowed to lie and maneuver and backstab to get out of it. Georgette Heyer would never, but she was, of course, a notorious snob. I did wonder, from a period-accurate perspective, where the male guardian for the younger girls was, because I don't think Kitty would have been left as legal guardian. Minor quibbles though.

A fun and frothy, although predictable, read.

[tudorblogger]

‘A Lady’s Guide to Fortune-Hunting’ by Sophie Irwin

Genre: Adult Fiction – Historical Romance Published: 2022 Format: Paperback Rating: ★★★★ I enjoyed this book overall and I want to read the next one in the series. I wish we got more of the history of the parents to be honest, that sounds fascinating – maybe a prequel? I always love reading romances based around the haut ton and this is a clean one with no sex at all, and very minimal kissing…

[blogmollylane]

Half way finished: A Lady’s Guide to Fortune Hunting by Sophie Irwin 🪭☕️🎩

[the-dust-jacket]

Heyer but gayer!

In honor of KJ Charles' new books The Duke At Hazard, a twist on one of Georgette Heyer's most delightfully ridiculous novels, The Foundling, we present to the tonne a selection of queer romance sorted by a few favorites from the queen of Regency Romance.

(Mostly Regency, a few earlier, and occasionally creeping all the way up to Victorian, and please note that most of these are steamy enough to make a Heyer heroine collapse on the fainting couch clutching her vinagraitte!)

Sylvester, or the Wicked Uncle:

Band Sinister

Wanted, a Gentleman

Something Fabulous

Infamous

The Masqueraders:

The Gentle Art of Fortune Hunting

The Perks of Loving a Wallflower

Frederica:

It Takes Two to Tumble

Unmasked by the Marquess

Her Lady to Love

Cotillion:

Infamous

Venetia

Band Sinister

The Ruin of a Rake

Faro's Daughter

The Gentle Art of Fortune Hunting

The Hellion's Waltz

The Society of Gentleman series

Beauvallet:

Valiant Ladies

Brethren

These Old Shades

The Society of Gentleman series

Unmasked by the Marquess

Devil's Cub:

The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue

Her Morning Star

The Corinthian:

The Perks of Loving a Wallflower

Wanted, a Gentleman

A Civil Contract

A Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics

The Care and Feeding of Waspish Widows

The Society of Gentlemen series

Friday's Child

Band Sinister

The Talisman Ring:

The Queer Principles of Kit Webb

A Thief In the Night

Something Fabulous

The Reluctant Widow:

Trouble

The Lawrence Browne Affair

The Nobleman's Guide to Seducing a Scoundrel

Arabella:

Unmasked by the Marquess

An Island Princess Starts a Scandal

Her Lady to Love

The Unknown Ajax:

The Secret Lives of Country Gentleman and The Nobleman's Guide to Seducing a Scoundrel

What are your favorites?

[muskoxen]

Vibin'

So I've been thinking about how some of my favorite books vibe with one another, and a map might be a better format for this and this is really just for me to quiet my brain a little but whatever, here's the list:

(The top line book will be the ur-book that sets the vibe, usually a childhood favorite; this does not mean that these are necessarily kid-friendly books!) (If you actually see and read this post, please reblog and suggest books because I'm going to throw down some ur-books that I have yet to find any simpatico fellows for!) (I will update my list as I read and discover)

Murderbot

Is it just me or would El Higgins and Murderbot coexist well??? Also, can’t believe I almost forgot to put my favorite traumatized construct on this list!

Howl's Moving Castle

Emily Wilde and its sequels

Ten Thousand Stitches

Sabriel and its sequels

Vespertine

Sorcery of Thorns (specifically, Lirael and there's also a UU library but also a Mogget)

Nettle & Bone

The Blue Sword

Crown Duel

The Goblin Emperor

Crown Duel

The Vorkosigan Saga

The Queen’s Thief

Discworld

T Kingfisher's World of the White Rat, incl. The Saint of Steel series. The gnolls esp. feel Discworldish.

A Deadly Education and The Scholomance series. Both El and Vimes understand The Beast

To Say Nothing of the Dog, Doomsday Book and Connie Willis at large

The Lord Peter Wimsey series

PG Wodehouse

Ella Enchanted

Half a Soul and its sequels

The Lord of Stariel

Thornhedge awww

The Hunger Games

The Locked Tomb

Also Vespertine (above) a bit. Lots of dead things, and sassy ghosts in your head, and religious fanatics, and eldritch horrors. TLT is A Lot so I don’t want to overpromise but the main character is an neurodivergent nun and she’s wonderful. Also there’s a hot priest. It is YA so significantly less gore.

His Dark Materials

Godkiller also vibes with THG a bit. Def a dash of Peenis.

Temeraire, except obviously Lyra would be friends with Temeraire and Pan and Lawrence would commiserate

Pride & Prejudice and Austen at large

An-Ever Fixed Mark and its universe

A Lady's Guide to Fortune-Hunting this author is so wildly unknown and underrated where is the discourse wtf

A Lady's Guide to Scandal

Memory of Morning. It’s a one hit wonder but it really, really hits for me. She’s a ship doctor who gets shore leave and gets to hang out with her bluestocking family during the season in a not-Britain. There’s language of flowers. There’s alien-intelligence-giant-glowing-octopodes. There’s a wee little doggy. I haven’t enjoyed anything else by this author but damn do I keep rereading this one.

The Beldam & the Baronet (Or, The Magician Debutante's Trials & Tribulations) by @dwellordream

Kate Daniels

Hidden Legacy but only the Nevada books sorry IA

The Inkeeper Chronicles obv

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Persephone's Devotee (Hello, Mr. Monster AU, I)

Master List

Summary: In the age of Spiritualists and magicians, wyrds winds in different ways to link Dream of the Endless and Aisling Hunt. AU of Hello, Mr. Monster beginning in the 1920s. (Alternatively titled 'We All Hate Roderick Burgess')

Warnings: Implied child abuse/neglect, child left to travel solo, manipulating children for profit (non-sexual trafficking)

A/N: Your bird just got diagnosed with a life changing chronic condition (in addition to being put back on depression meds). We'll see how this post does. Have four chapters planned. The last scene is based on personal experiences with heat exhaustion/borderline heat stroke.

Dream’s tools brought many things to Fawney Rig. Wealth and prestige. Admiration, gifts, and influence. Nearly everything the magus wanted and only a fraction of what he thought he deserved. Roderick’s dreams of power and riches drew another tool to his hand, or perhaps Destiny drew the magus to her. The girl who saw strange things in the dark and found answers to strange riddles in her cards. But her wyrd would always draw her to old house and its shrouded dungeon, in any world or time. All because of what the Burgesses kept there.

In the eight years since the fateful evening he summoned and caught one of the Endless, Roderick had become a man much desired. He found himself with an invitation to Lord and Lady Werthrope’s party, a guest of honor at a soiree at their country estate. They promised a night of occult mysteries and foreign prizes. Bits of people and places from across the empire and beyond. Mummies from Egypt and fragments of Greek antiquities to gasp and shriek over with glasses of champagne and brandy.

Roderick carried himself as Lord Werthrope’s equal, and at least for that night, surrounded by ancient mysteries of all kinds, he was seen as such. He was an expert, a guide, someone to hold in reverence rather than an oddity to gawk over. He told them with his bearing, his dignity, and the ruby he wore on a golden chain around his neck. His wishes became dreams and so became real. He stood like a stronger god beside the broken figure of Apollo and scoffed at the mistranslations of texts he’d only ever read secondhand.

Beside the wonders kept under guard at home, what were these paltry things? He could have any of them he desired, and he’d already claimed better.

His sense of superiority carried him through the party’s early hours, moving from acrobats in elaborate costumes, to fire eaters, to ghost stories and flights of fancy spun by swindlers far below his consideration. He had an answer or alternative for everything. And then he met the girl.

She sat at a bare table with no long cloth to hide rolling ankles, clever fishing lines, or knocking accomplices. Only a candle and a deck of cards separated her from the guests, and she’d drawn quite a queue. Her feet didn’t even reach the floor, swinging idly between the legs of the chair as she read the cards of a distraught-looking dandy.

Taking his arm, Lady Werthrope said, “This one you really must see, Magus. She’s made quite the splash in New York and London.”

The Magus offered a tolerant smile. “And what is the trick? Does she blow out the candle? Bend spoons?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that.” The lady practically vibrated, eager to impress as she led them to the table, scattering the line. “She sees things, and she reads fortunes like no one I’ve ever seen, and I’ve had more than a few pet psychics in my time. This one’s a bit of a sad story.”

The magus clenched his jaw until the muscle in his cheek twitched. He could make whatever sob story the girl shilled much worse. Of all the frauds and liars who feigned knowledge of the occult, Roderick Burgess hated mediums and ghost whisperers the most. The tantalizing promise of connection with Randal – always waved in his face, always ultimately denied – it clawed open the rotting wound in his heart, and he let the poison drip back on any fools who tried his patience.

Let this one try to pull the wool over his eyes, and he’d unmask her in front of this glittering audience. She’d be a penniless sad story when he was through.

“Those people,” the lady said, nodding to a couple flanking the child, “are just the adoptive parents. Saw her family murdered, poor thing. They say that’s what cracked her open to the other world.”

“Do they indeed.” He kept his smile, showing his teeth as his grip flexed over the cane in his free hand. “Then I look forward to her performance.”

The Magus and the lady sat across from the faux family, and the girl looked at them. The people who weren’t her parents did not manage her well, Burgess couldn’t help noting. They’d painted her up with rogue and kohl that made her look even more like a child playing grownup games, and the feather in her headband hung limp and lifeless. She barely managed to grimace through a smile, and she spoke with all the enthusiasm of a student reporting on Ovid to the class.

“What are you asking?” A child’s voice really shouldn’t be so dull. Now that he was nearer, the Magus couldn’t help wondering if she was even younger than he’d first assumed. Not even ten, he thought, and already so exhausted.

It wasn’t what he’d expected. He kept his guard, but curiosity stirred beneath. She was no great performer.

Lady Werthrope leaned forward, eager to take the first reading as the girl shuffled her cards. They were nearly too big for her to manage, but in this at least she clearly had much practice. Her handling of the tarot was the most natural element of her demeanor he’d yet to see.

The lady talked about her dog Moxy, a cocker spaniel much loved and terribly spoiled. It was getting on in years, and, well, ought she prepare for anything dreadful? Only, her friend had just lost her terrier, and she couldn’t chase it from her thoughts…

The cards appeared on the table. One by one. The Six of Cups. The Two of Swords. And, lastly, the Nine of Swords reversed.

“Moxy is well-loved.” The child pointed to the first card. “That’s the foundation. But she’s getting older, and she may go blind eventually. She’s accepted it, though, and you will, too.” She smiled a little, hesitantly, like a pet used to getting kicked when she barked at company. The Magus noted how her gaze flicked to her pseudo-father.

Lady Werthrope clucked and reached over to squeeze the child’s hand. “You’re very honest. And very sweet. Now, won’t you show the Magus what you can do?”

Obediently, she gathered the cards and folded the deck, shuffling them with the fresh energy of her next customer. “What do you want to know?”

Roderick considered. It was a little below him to ask anything specific of a child spiritualist, and he still meant to test her. Hate stirred the old thorn in his heart, and although she didn’t speak with ghosts to earn her bread, he didn’t need to justify himself.

“I’ll leave the question to you.” He squinted in a way that may seem affectionate, but it was only sharp, a predator focusing on little fawn to see how quickly it might run. “What do you see?”

She flinched, lifting her eyes from the cards to meet his in a fleeting, startled glance. Like he’d come near to guessing something she didn’t say out loud. But then she bent over the deck, back to her work as the woman behind her set a hand on her shoulder.

“Be good, Aisling,” the adoptive mother said. “Show the Magus your skills. Don’t embarrass us.”

The child rolled her lip between her teeth, sorting the task quickly. One card. Two cards. Three cards. Tap, tap, tap on the bare table. The Magician’s face glowed in the candle light, and Roderick blinked. A good tarot reader must have good luck in order to draw the appropriate cards – or a marked deck. But he’d watched those little hands like a hawk, and he’d seen nothing. It wasn’t definitive proof by any means, but Roderick Burgess knew himself to be cleverer than a child.

Pointing to the first card, the Magician, the girl said, “You’re the Magus. The Magician is your creation of yourself.” The second card was the Nine of Cups. “Your cups all overflow, and you enjoy the plenty you already have.” And then there was the Ace of Pentacles. Roderick wondered for a moment if she’d laid the cards out of the intended order, but she simply said, “There is new wealth coming. You’ve just found something that will bring you more good fortune. The benefits will grow in the months and years to come.”

“You’re very sure of yourself.” He looked for cracks, and there were many. Fatigue clouded her eyes and weighted the end of every sentence. Not a sign of a lie, though. She couldn’t even pretend to be happy for the audience.

He turned the interaction over in his mind through the rest of the night, wearing away the questions and presumptions like the rough edges of a stone, and by the later hours, he thought he might hold a jewel.

The adoptive parents made themselves easy to find. They hadn’t left the table. Neither had the girl. The lord and lady hired them to entertain, and they stayed at their posts. They’d gathered refreshments, but no cup or plate sat on the table, and he wondered if they had any idea children needed things like water after a long night of speaking with strangers.

Really. The scheme was too transparent. The only lies hid in any manner of affection the parents pretended for the child they claimed.

The Magus marched up to the table, rapping the top with his cane to seize the drowsy girl’s attention. She blinked, started licking her dry lips, caught herself, and pinched her mouth closed with her teeth.

“Aisling, wasn’t it?” He nodded to her, encouraging her to echo the motion. “I would like a word with you. No cards. No reading. Just a conversation. Alone.”

The father stepped forward, ready to defend his meal ticket. “Sir, I’m afraid we can’t just –”

“The girl and I will sit here, at this table,” he tapped it again to make his point, “and you will both stand over there.” The cane swung to point towards the bar, which was well within sight but well out of earshot.

When the man moved to protest again, Roderick pulled out his wallet, and the father’s mouth snapped shut. A few pounds bought the adults’ willing compliance, and they went off in search of drinks with barely a backwards glance. Roderick settled into the seat he claimed earlier, watching the girl squirm. Her hands fluttered restlessly between her lap and the table, clearly used to the cards, uneasy without the form and ritual of a reading to guide the conversation.

That was well enough. Roderick had his own plans.

He signaled one of the roving staff, and as the waiter approached, he ordered, “A lemonade for the young lady.”

With a bow, the server hurried off, and the Magus smiled, lips closed, tilting his head as his legs crossed under the table. He was not a client. He was an adult who noticed, who might be moved to care, and in the few hours of their acquaintance, he was already offering more than anyone else.

“So, you see things?”

Her eyes snapped from him to the people who managed her. Then back again, and down to her lap.

“I’m not supposed to upset people.” She picked at the fringe on the garish frock she wore – entirely unsuited to her age and clearly uncomfortable. “It upsets Mr. and Mrs. Foster when I see things. Or when I talk about them.”

The Magus nodded, unsurprised. He wondered if the people who adopted her even realized her talents were genuine when they snatched her up. They had too many connections and too much showmanship to be anything other than experienced con artists. This little Aisling must be very sensitive, and the truly sensitive didn’t see strictly good, kind, or encouraging things. How she must terrify the fools.

The server returned with a cut crystal glass rattling with ice. The girl thanked the server, then thanked her benefactor, and wrapped her hands around the condensation-slicked sides. She sipped carefully, and Roderick could see the tension ease from her posture as she drank. Desperate as she was, she didn’t gulp, and with clear regret, she set the drink on the table still two-thirds full. But she kept her hands on the glass, lest some waiter assume she was finished and spirit it away.

“I won’t be upset, and I’d like to believe you.” Angling his head down to peer at her meaningfully, employing a look he’d once used when his son misbehaved, he asked, “What have you seen tonight that would upset people?”

The girl looked around, shifting so her chair creaked. This time, it wasn’t her adoptive parents she feared. Any ears may be a threat. When she leaned in, the Magus copied her, silently assuring her the secret would be safe with him.

“There’s a guest who’s not a guest, and he isn’t a man, either.”

The Magus hummed. “Say I believe you. Could you prove it?”

Seduced into the invitation of an adult confidant, and revived by the lemonade, she rushed to answer. She wanted to prove herself. She wanted to be believed and heard. The Magus was listening, and he was beginning to believe as well.

“The man paid the footman with holly leaves,” she hissed in a loud whisper. “The footman folded them like bank notes, and the spines stabbed his palms, but he didn’t notice. Look for the one with blood on his gloves.”

“And the man who isn’t a man?”

Shrinking back, the girl shook her head until the headband went crooked. Her hand pressed over her heart, rubbing hard circles as her face creased.

“He’d know I saw him,” she said. “I don’t let them know I see them anymore.”

Now there was a tale and no mistake. A child with enough power to annoy things beyond the veil – one that survived an encounter – was rare indeed.

“What happened?” He lent his tone a shade of concern. Facts, he found, traveled swiftest to a sympathetic ear, and he needed to know everything. Curiosity was growing into practical fervor as the first dreams of a plan grew into place. “Are you ill?”

She crumbled just a little bit more, folding into herself to protect the place she rubbed from some invisible threat. “Sometimes I see things that don’t want to be seen. One of them – hurt me. There’s no scar, but it hurt me, and now it aches.”

The Magus donned a solemn expression, though he felt a thrill at the prospect sitting before him. The little girl had unusual skills, and though she wasn’t handled well by the adults governing her, they must still turn a pretty penny showing her in salons and private homes. He’d confirm what she’d said, of course, validate her little proof, but she was either a better liar than he’d ever met or she was childishly honest. He knew where he’d put his money.

Where he might very well invest it, actually.

He didn’t say goodbye, only nodding as he rose and went in search of the servant with bloody gloves.

Of course, he found him. When he demanded to see what the footman had in his pockets, the boy paled, stammering excuses, only to pull out a handful of forest detritus. As the young man fell into a whirl of confusion and disappointment, the Magus truly smiled. The first real smile since Lady Werthrope brought him to the child’s table.

He must have a proper conversation with the girl’s current guardians.

Aisling clung to her bag, drowning in the heat as the train pulled away from the Wych Cross platform. Men and women fanned themselves with hats and newspapers, desperate for a breeze in the dead summer stillness. Ladies shed their gloves. Men loosened their ties. Propriety mattered less when the air was trying to suffocate them, a crushing, inescapable oven scalding the usually damp countryside.

A miserable day to travel.

Sweat dripped down her back, soaking the neck of her dress, gluing her hair to her skin. But she didn’t have a free hand to stir a breeze. Her bag was too heavy, full of everything she would need in her new home, or at least everything the Fosters thought they couldn’t sell for a profit. Mrs. Foster took her to the train station and dropped her at the door.

“Here’s your ticket. You’re heading to Wych Cross, and then to Fawney Rig. Don’t forget, and don’t miss your train,” she’d said. Then she climbed back into the cab beside Mr. Foster and disappeared into the flow of London traffic.

They’d sold her on to someone else, and now they were free of her.

She peered around the station, but it was really just a platform. In London, there were helpful adults in uniforms and suits who pointed out the right train and the right stairs to reach it. Nothing here told her how to find Fawney Rig, though, and the only adult in a uniform seemed to be the man in the ticket booth.

She’d find her way. She wasn’t a baby after all. She was eight. And she could read very well, and no one was coming to help her, so she better figure it out.

She stood in line for the ticket man’s attention. Surely, he could give her directions. The Magus was rich, and a little famous, she thought, so his neighbors must know where he lived. If the man in the booth didn’t know, she’d keep asking until she found someone who did. While she waited her turn, she set down her suitcase and sat on it, taking deep breaths that tasted like salt. It could be worse. What if it rained instead? Well. Actually. Rain sounded very nice.

Soon enough, she took her place in front of the booth, and the man frowned under his mustache like she’d arrived with a bill or a letter from someone nasty. She smiled prettily, the way the Fosters told her to, and tried to make herself look like less of a problem as she clutched her case again.

“Excuse me,” she said, “but do you know the way to Fawney Rig?”

He physically recoiled, and his frown hooked deeper with glowering doubt as he scanned her. “Fawney Rig? That devil worshiper’s house? Why do you want to know?”

“I’ve been sent to live there, sir. I’m expected, but I don’t think they’ve sent anyone for me.” Manners made things easier with adults. Good manners and clear words – the fewer the better.

But the man wasn’t swayed. He looked thunderous. Like she’d broken something valuable and ought to pay for it with a lashing.

“Do you have money for a cab?”

The Fosters didn’t own her anymore, and they’d given her nothing but cards, and costumes, and a hairbrush. All the cash stayed warm and safe in their pockets.

“No, sir.”

“Then walk down the main road. Go east from the village, and keep going until there are no more houses you can see from the street. There’ll be a path on the left with a big iron gate. Follow that and you’ll find your devil worshipers.” He waved her off like he’d slap her if not for the glass. “Next!”

Manners got her what she needed, at least. “Thank you.”

The other adults all moved aside as she trundled through with her case. It made it easier to avoid clipping ankles and shins with her luggage, but she wondered if they hated her the way the ticket man hated her – because of Fawney Rig – or if she simply smelled after the long, stuffy ride in third class. Not that adults needed an excuse to dislike her. The nice ones called her uncanny and gifted. The mean ones called her a witch, and a bastard devil-spawn, and other names a mother should wash out of their mouths with soap.

She wasn’t sure which ones were telling the truth.

She knew the way forward, though. To Fawney Rig. That was good, even if the other adults didn’t think so. The Magus may not be a nice person, she hadn’t known him long enough for the usual adult lies to wear thin enough to see through, but he was smarter than the Fosters, and he’d given her a lemonade, so maybe she wouldn’t be as hungry or thirsty under his guardianship. She’d still have to work. Adults only wanted her if they thought she could give them something. But everything was more bearable with a good dinner and cold drinks.

She hoped he’d give her another cold drink, even water with some ice, when she reached his home. The train ride left her terribly thirsty.

Leaving the shaded platform, she bowed away from the sun’s violent touch and started on her journey. The village only kept a cobbled road in the center of town. It led up to the train station, linking it to a clutch of shops and offices. A parish church sat a little way back from the road, separated from the secular world by a field of tidy tombstones in heat-bleached grass. People noticed her. They looked. They whispered to each other. But no one waved or offered a hand. Gossip didn’t move fast enough to beat her here from the train, and she wondered how people could tell she was odd. Society had so many rules beyond manners, but no one would tell her what they were, and she never guessed right.

By the time the cobblestones ended, she was struggling to hold onto her suitcase. The handle kept trying to slip from her fingers, even when she held it with both hands, and she had to work harder and harder to keep it out of the dirt. If she knew anything about the world, it was that good children didn’t drag their luggage, and bad things happened to those that did. She’d travelled enough to learn, and she wanted to make a good impression on her new keeper and his household.

The road outside of town went a very, very long way. The ticket seller’s instructions made each step sound the same length: go through town, pass the houses, go down the long drive past the gates. Her imagination had lied to her, though. Every time she thought she’d passed the last house, there came another. Each handed her down the chain of cottage gardens and small homes full of families who pretended not to see. They all knew she’d done something, like she had a brand on her forehead, and she wasn’t allowed to stop. She didn’t try to.

Everything looked sickly yellow in the midday glare. Dust hung in the air, stirred by passing cars, lingering without a breath of wind to dispel the choking clouds. Everything looked flat and dead, so much so she almost missed the gate. Another leg of her trek done. Still too far to go, and the private road leading to the Magus’ home was longer than it had any right to be.

She didn’t feel well. The trees gave her a little protection, but her stomach and lungs felt hard, strained, the way her arms ached with carrying her suitcase. Only they were parts that shouldn’t feel that way, and she thought maybe she should sit down.

But she was almost there.

Even if she walked slowly, and her feet didn’t land quite where she told them to.

She just wouldn’t think about those things. Complaining was just making excuses, and she was expected.

The house appeared out of nowhere, or she was too dizzy to see it through the leaves before the last turn in the drive. It loomed, a very final-looking destination, and her suitcase escaped her grasp. The case was slippery, and her fingers didn’t curl the way they should. She bent to pick it up, and when she straightened, the whole world spun.

She stood very still until it stopped, and she found herself shivering as she approached the front door. Very strange. Was she afraid? No. That didn’t sound right. She felt terrible, too terrible to worry, and none of it made sense.

But she’d nearly made it. She had made it. Almost.

Knocking summoned a young man, and the door creaked open as he glanced down with a quizzical expression. “Hello? Can I help you?”

She tried holding her suitcase with just one hand, but it slipped away again, barely missing her foot. Maybe a handshake was a bad idea. The stranger hadn’t held his hand out for a shake, after all. She was just confused. He might not want to touch her. And she must look a picture after her walk.

She should’ve done something differently. If she were smarter, or taller, or…

“I’m Aisling Hunt, sir. The Magus sent for me.”

“Oh.” The young man’s eyes popped wider, and she wondered if he was younger than she thought at first. Stepping back, he pulled open the door to usher her inside. “I’m sorry. I’d heard someone was coming, but I’d thought you’d be… well, older. And I’m just Alex.”

“Nice to meet you, Alex. I’m Aisling.”

He nodded and plucked her bag from where she’d dropped it. “Yes. You said. Are you feeling alright?”

She didn’t know. And grownups didn’t really like it when she was unwell anyway. Before she could come up with a suitable lie that would get her what she needed without stepping on any toes, a familiar face appeared at the end of the hall.

“Ah! You made it.” Out of formal dress, the Magus still brimmed with authority. Aisling had met many adults who wore costumes and pretended to be something they weren’t, but the Magus seemed like he’d somehow stitched his chosen persona into his skin. “Welcome to Fawney Rig.”

She wobbled. “Thank you, sir.”

“Magus,” he corrected.

“Thank you, Magus, sir.”

At last, what he was seeing overshadowed his enthusiasm, and the old man frowned. “Did you walk here? From the station?”

“Yes, Magus.”

“The Fosters didn’t even give you money for a fucking cab?”

“Just the train ticket, sir. Magus.”

She blinked, and the whole room turned blue, like peering at the world through stained glass. It looked so pretty she didn’t realize the Magus was asking her another question until his hand settled on her shoulder.

His voice came from far away. “Can you hear me?”

Yes, she wanted to say. Yes, Magus, I walked, and I found Fawney Rig all on my own, and I’m not useless, please don’t throw me away yet.

But everything looked cool, and blue, and lovely. She was floating in it. Floating and so awfully heavy at the same time. The color slipped in with her breath, eroding her control until it slipped from her grasp like the suitcase had.

The world went dark, and she didn’t see, hear, or say anything more.

And deep below, in the belly of the house, Dream of the Endless waited in his cage, as senseless to the world above as she.

[talonabraxas]

Seven Sisters In The Sky: Myth and Symbolism of Pleiades

Mythology and Symbolism The Seven Sisters, are beautifully located in the constellation Taurus and they are special for many reasons:

Myth Behind Pleiades In Greek mythology, the Pleiades were the seven daughters of the sea-nymph Pleione and Atlas -a Titan who was punished by Zeus to hold up the sky on his shoulders for eternity. Their names were Maia, Electra, Taygete, Alcyone, Celaeno, Sterope, and Merope. Their name, Pleione means “Ladies of Plenty” from the Greek word pleiôn “plenty.”

According to the myth, they were pursued by Orion, the giant hunter, who was in love with them. To protect the sisters probably from getting raped, Zeus transformed them into stars and placed them in the night sky.

Another tale suggests that the Pleiades were the companions of Artemis, the goddess of the hunt, who transformed them into stars to protect them from the advances of Orion, a giant hunter.

Whatever the myth is, the story of the Pleiades constellation is strong a metaphor for the power of sisterhood and the strength that comes from sticking together. Because of its feminine sisterhood energy, the 7 sisters constellation has been associated with fertility and abundance and is often seen as a symbol of prosperity and good luck.

Visibility The Pleiades are one of the most easily visible star clusters in the night sky. They can be seen with the naked eye from almost anywhere on Earth and have been observed and recorded by many different cultures throughout history.

The Pleiades are a relatively young cluster, estimated to be only around 100 million years old and contain over a thousand stars. They are also made up of hot, bright, and massive stars that emit beautiful blue-white light.

The Pleiades have been associated with mythology and symbolism in many different cultures, including Greek, Japanese, and Native American. They are often seen as a symbol of fertility, and abundance. They are often associated with the planting and harvesting of crops, and their appearance in the sky is seen as a sign of prosperity and good fortune.

Daughters of Atlas are a symbol of sisterhood and feminine power. In Hinduism, the Pleiades are associated with the birth of the warrior goddess Durga. Finally, in some Native American cultures, they are seen as the spirits of ancestors who have passed on and are guiding the living through their journey.

In Christianity, this constellation does not hold any significant religious or spiritual meaning. However in Islam, these stars are known as Al-Thurayya and are mentioned in the Quran. They are often associated with guidance and protection, and are believed to have been a source of inspiration for Arabic poets throughout history. The Pleiades are also significant in Islamic astronomy, as they mark the beginning of the Arabic lunar calendar. In traditional Islamic culture, the sighting of the Pleiades after sunset is used to determine the start of the Islamic month of Ramadan.

Astrology In astrology, the Pleiades are considered a significant star cluster and are said to have a powerful influence on human destiny. They are associated with qualities such as intuition, creativity, and psychic ability, and are often used in horoscopes and astrological charts.

Astrologically, the arrival of the Pleiades in the night sky is often considered a sign of spring and has been used to mark the beginning of agricultural seasons.

Witchcraft In witchcraft and Wicca, the seven Pleiades are the source of divine inspiration and guidance. Many witches believe that the stars can bring them closer to the spirit world and help them tap into their own intuition and psychic abilities. Some also believe that the stars can be used for divination and prophecy, and they can help witches connect with their ancestors and spirit guides.

The Pleiades have been seen as a source of divine inspiration and mystical experience. Some spiritual traditions believe that the stars can bring people closer to the spirit world and help them tap into their own intuition and psychic abilities.

Pleiades by Talon Abraxas

[lgbtqreads]

Sorry if this is too specific, but do you know any queer fantasy (or historical) romcoms? Preferably adult, kind of like Our Flag Means Death in book form (but not necessarily with pirates)?

I think the closest thing you're gonna find* with actual pirates is Peter Darling by Austin Chant, which I wouldn't actually call a rom-com (I mean, it's pretty rare for anything in these genres to be rom-coms, but I feel like this is more the "lighter romance with wit" usage of rom-com, so I'm gonna go ahead and answer that way), but if you haven't yet read KJ Charles, Cat Sebastian, or Alexis Hall, they're the authors you're gonna wanna know. Maybe start with The Queer Principles of Kit Webb or Something Fabulous or The Gentlemen's Book of Vices by Jess Everlee or The Gentle Art of Fortune Hunting or Olivia Waite's The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics?

ETA: Freya Marske! I should've mentioned Freya Marske for sure, especially if you're looking for more fantastical: https://amzn.to/4arez7m

*I meant to go back and edit this because I knew it wasn't correct when I wrote it and I posted too fast. There are definitely more things out there with pirates and I definitely should've shared this post and I bet the real closest fit in Adult is the Thorne: https://lgbtqreads.com/2024/02/12/fave-five-books-for-fans-of-our-flag-means-death/

[bitchronan]

books i read this year that i actually really think u should read

i who have never known men

empire of pain

the rook & rose series

a lady's guide to scandal (a lady's guide to fortune hunting is good also but oh my god this book!!!!)

the last binding series (reread, beloved)

the locked tomb (only got better on a reread <3 beloved)

they called me a lioness

the scorpio races (can't believe this was only my first reread she was just as perfect as I remember)

dark rise series