#then i was under a crap ton of stress through the fall and winter

[hecckyeah]

someone please remind me that gaining weight is okay sometimes

[softboywriting]

Heal Me // Doctor!Shawn (A Soulmate AU) Part 3

(i mentioned making this a 3 part series, well it’s going to be more than 3 parts lol)

Part One | Part Two 

A week passes and you find yourself fitting into Shawn’s home life fairly easily. He was quiet, gave you your space and offered to help any time you appeared to be struggling. You had made it clear you just wanted to stay until the snow storms eased up and insisted that it was temporary and that he remembered that. The idea of staying longer was tempting though. His place was extremely nice, well decorated, high end furniture and appliances. It was one of those homes you see on HGTV that has been remodeled but kept that vintage look about parts of the house. Shawn gave you free access to everywhere, save for the basement because you couldn’t get down there, but if you could, you were technically allowed to look down there too.

Shawn was sweet. So sweet and caring it just seems unreal. How could someone be so genuine and happy and selfless 24/7? It seemed unnatural and you weren’t sure when it was going to fade. If you were going to be soulmates, you would need to get to know the real Shawn and not the happy homemaker that he was appearing to be.

It was the tenth night and you were laid out on the couch, blanket on your lap, foot elevated on a stack of decorative pillows to alleviate swelling. The TV was on some Hallmark made for TV Christmas themed romance about a prince taking home some regular girl and trying to make his family accept her. Shawn had gone to work early in the morning and now it was well after 7pm and he was finally getting home. You peek over the couch to the front door and see him get blown in by the wind that was starting to pick up again. Another blizzard was due to hit the area, this time bringing ten more inches of snow and possible rolling blackouts. Winter was shit because it was literally keeping you from going home to your own apartment.

Shawn hangs his coat on the hallway hook and slides his wet black tennis shoes off into the boot tray beneath. You watch as he discards his gloves and scarf and hat into the basket beside the boot tray. It’s interesting the way he works. Even when he isn’t in the hospital he does everything in a methodical, precise way. You noticed after the first day when every time you put your leg up, he would get the pillows stacked up in a specific order, put the blanket over your lap, get you the remote, then make you tea. Every time. Watching him undress was the same. Coat first, then shoes, gloves, scarf, and hat. You wonder for a second if he does this on purpose or if it’s just become a day to day way to do things in a certain order because that’s what his job often required and he had drilled into his head.

“Welcome home,” you say and raise your hand up to wave. He looks up from where he’s putting his keys in the catch all tray and smiles. “Long day?”

“Shit day. Long hard shit day,” he scrubs a hand over his face as he walks toward the living area. He’s still in his scrubs, the black ones, your favorite, and his undershirt which is dark green today. His hair is a mess like he’s been running his hands through it over and over. Overall he looks good, tired, but good. “God, it was a fucking shit, crap, garbage trash day.”

This is the most stressed you’ve ever heard him and it brings you a little bit of joy. Seeing a part of him that wasn’t mister sweetheart. You pat the sofa beside you and say, “Come sit. Watch shitty hallmark movies with me. I promise not to spoil the super predictable endings for you.”

Shawn laughs and you love it. You love the way he laughs. It’s always this sort of soft initial chuckle followed by a series of quieter chuckles that trail off into a lingering smile. It’s hard not to like him. Not that you were trying not to. It was just a little strange feeling how you were so comfortable with him yet you remained strangers to a great extent. “You’ve got me sold. Let me get changed into something less sterile smelling and get some dinner going.”

“We could order out?”

“Not with a storm coming. I wouldn’t want some poor delivery person to get into an accident on the account of my pepperoni pizza.”

“Of course, I forgot about this shitty weather.”

Shawn smiles and shrugs it off. He pulls something out of his pocket and tosses it at you. It’s a roll of hot pink self stick bandage wrap. “Guess what you get to do tonight?”

You pick up the roll and turn it over in your hands. “Uhh...”

“I’m going to rewrap your leg. It’s time to change it. You groan and he just laughs. You had forgotten about having to change the dressing like the nurses had instructed to before you left. There was no way you were going to be able to do it alone. You were so thankful for Shawn at a time like this. He goes upstairs to his bedroom to change and you put the wrap aside in favor of texting your sister that everything was going good and you would have an update on your leg’s progress soon.

Sitting on the couch with Shawn between your legs was something you never thought you would experience, but here you were. He tried cutting away the bandage and gauze that coated your calf down to your foot by sitting on the floor but he couldn’t get the angle he wanted. He tried doing it standing, your foot propped up on his bent leg. That didn’t work. So he sat on the couch, your one leg behind his back and the other in his lap. He puts a pillow under your leg and holds the gauze and bandage up away from your skin as he cuts it away carefully.

Your leg looks pretty gross. It’s covered in old iodine and dried on blood. There is bruising all over and the stitches make it look like something out of a horror film. The wound is about ten inches long if you were to guess a length. It spans much of the outer left side of your calf. You look away and take a deep breath. It was a lot to look at, a lot to remember.

“Hey,” Shawn says softly, hand suddenly on your shoulder. “It looks worse than it is, I promise.”

You nod and look back at it. So gross. Shawn unzips the bag he brought with him from the bathroom and tears open a couple of alcohol cloths to start cleaning up the dried blood and leftover antibacterial cleansers. He works quietly, eyes focused, careful not to catch the cloths on your stitches. Shawn looks over at you every once in awhile to make sure you aren’t in pain, and you aren’t. He’s very gentle.

Several dozen alcohol wipes later, a smear of antibacterial ointment, a ton of gauze and the hot pink wrap and you were ready for another week of healing. Shawn cleans up his mess, carefully tucking the used wipes and left over gauze into a zipper bag and carrying it off with your old dressings and his medi kit. He returns after a while with hot tea and some sandwiches with chips.

“So, why are you so into being soulmates? Like, for me, I’ve always dreamed of falling in love with my soulmate and getting married and having kids someday. I know it’s not always realistic, but my grandparents were soulmates and they spent every single day together and they were the happiest people I ever knew. I want a love like that.”

Shawn smiles weakly. “I wish I could say my inspiration to be a good soulmate was as beautiful.”

“Oh...um...what is your inspiration?”

He looks down and moves his chips around on his plate as if he’s contemplating what to say to you. His voice is quite, saddened, as he says, “My parents. It’s not a great story. I’ll tell you someday.” The way he looks at the TV and not at you as be begins to chew on his lower lip tells you to drop the subject. Finally it seemed you were going to get to see the real Shawn.

It’s a little short! Sorry yall! I Like doing this one in shorter parts idk why but I do.

As always, please reblog to share this with other people! If you like it reblog it please! Thank you! I love you you all~♥

[wellhalesbells]

help I just finished the raven cycle. now what??

i mean, firstly, mourn.  i cannot stress the importance of this step enough.  take the time to sob and rage and fall apart about the fact that you have finished this series that is just head and shoulders above nearly every other.  because that did happen and it does blow.  i suggest a lot of laying on the floor or under your bed, eating tacos, and being generally despondent.  also if you feel the need to wear black for a year or keep your curtains drawn 24/7, well, that’s totally acceptable.

once that’s done, we’re ready to reenter the literary world!  probably, and ish.  to help ease the transition, i would suggest trying to pinpoint what you most loved from that series and then working from there.  was it the fantasy elements, the characters, the lgbt-ness, the young adult-ness or just the straight-up pretty writing?  here are a few things that might help fill the void (though do recognize that none will be perfect and, factually, your life is just emptier now):

FANTASY 

[admittedly, i do not have a lot of fantasy on my shelves because i need long breaks between for that genre, but here are a few of my more recent reads]

the scorpio races - going from maggie to maggie is never a bad idea.  i will concede that it took me way longer to get into this one than it did the raven cycle, but i did eventually get there and the characters were heaps more established (and rational) than what’s usually on offer in a YA read!

the grisha trilogy - okay, so i really got into this because it has such a well-drawn villain.  meaning: he’s fucking gray, like all good villains should be.  you can sympathize with him and i was surprised to find that i cared what happened to him, not just to our hero.  the story and characters were also really great.  and if you want to jump off this trilogy into the six of crows duology (LGBT+), my only advice would be: don’t let your expectations get too high.  unfortunately, i went in expecting it to be the raven cycle’s equivalent and, for me, it did not have that same depth.  good, for sure, but on trc’s level?  not so much, in my opinion, and i wish i’d known not to expect that going in because i feel like i would’ve enjoyed it more if i had.

the dream-quest of vellitt boe - lovecraft with laaaaadies.

3-DIMENSIONAL CHARACTERS

mosquitoland - this book can be a little hard at times but, woooow, did i fall in love with mim.  this had just the right amounts of humor and heart for me.

station eleven -considering this jumps timelines and characters, it’s monumentally impressive that you can feel such a connection to and investment in everyone’s stories.

LGBT+

simon vs the homo sapiens agenda - this is cuuuuuuute and i just love everyone and want the absolute best for them because they so deserve it and it shook out just how i wanted it to.

a place called winter - this is another one that’s hard, but worth it, i think.  it’s a sweeping story, spanning decades and continents and hammering in the historical hardships that came from being any letter on the lgbt+ spectrum during the pioneer era.

the watchmaker of filigree street - historical fiction, in general, is pretty much a turn-off for me because it’s dense and overly drawn a lot of the time (i get it, it’s the 1800s, can we shut up about the details every three seconds please, UGH).  but if there were ever a book that was going to turn me completely around on that, it would be this one because WOW, YES.

flying lessons and other stories - a slew of sexually and racially diverse stories from some truly brilliant authors!

aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe - ohhhhh it’s pretty.  and soft.  and full of love and fear and understanding.  it hurts my heart with how tender it is.  [weeps]

idyll threats - you know how there are five million ‘cop/sheriff/detective in a small town’ mystery series that just go on and on forever and never end?  WELL NOW WE HAVE ONE FOR THE LBGT COMMUNITY.  the second book just came out last month and i want everyone to support these if you can; i want there to be so many i can’t count the number on my fingers and toes anymore, i want thomas lynch to be a friggin’ household name, i want a terrible movie franchise and an awkwardly posed poster on my wall, okay?  I WANT THIS TO BE A THING PLEASE.

YOUNG ADULT

the illuminae files - these books are dope.  they’re engaging not only story-wise but also visually, the text forms images, the fire fights are chaotic smashings of words, the space walks are delicate tight-ropes of sentences and then, on top of that, the characters and the twists and turns of the story?  oh my BUH-GOD.  this series is breath-takingly good and so freaking smart, okay?  it just is.  IT IS.

i’ll meet you there - i liked every single detail of this book and they’re all… still there.  i read this quite a bit ago and i remember so much of it.  i don’t remember what i had for lunch an hour ago but i remember this book.  so.  that’s pretty cool.

the merciless - all right, all right, all right, i have to qualify this.  because i was not a fan of the ending.  maybe you will be, i don’t know, i - personally - was not.  BUT everything leading up to that ending?  yeah huh!  it was some good-ass suspense.  as of right now, i’ve only read the first book of this series but… i think i am going to keep going with it.  it’s hard to get me to squirm but this book managed it and i think i have to chase that, right?

WRITING

the secret history (LGBT+ minor character) - i said i would never recommend this book to people (it is long.  and dense.  and depressing) but, lookit, that turned out to be a fucking lie.  it feels historical even though it’s contemporary and it is such a complete story?  i mean, i know this story, i know these characters, i was thrust into those pages.  and i loved it.  if you need your characters to be likable though?  NOT the book for you, haha.

autopsy (LGBT+) - i read a fair amount of poetry these days.  i like very little poetry.  this?  this i liked a crap-ton.  donte collins is a friggin’ wordsmith, man.

the princess saves herself in this one - another poetry book i enjoyed!  i really love watching skilled people play with language, what can i say?

we were liars - okay, so, this is another odd one for me to recommend because… i did not like it.  like, at all.  i mean, i did like it a lot, and then the ending came and obliterated any positive thoughts i’d had about it (because i feel like it breaks the contract with the reader and that makes things just… not cool imo, but whatever).  HOWEVER i did find the writing really, really lovely.  it has a gorgeous, soothing flow to it.  and, again, some people may really like the ending and, in that case, this would be a super great book for you because the writing is really simple but nice, y’know?

american housewife - an awesome book of awesome short stories written very awesomely!

i’ll give you the sun (LGBT+) - the writing in this makes me want to fall to my knees with how good it is.  i just can’t.  i could go on and on for days.  it feels like it’s something that should’ve taken centuries to craft because it is so lovingly put together and it just–it makes you feel all the feels, okay.

everything i never told you (LGBT+ minor characters) - i like this book so much more in retrospect.  but it does the adult fiction thing that every fucking adult fiction book does and that made me so mad at the time.  but, beyond that, it’s a unique and well-told story!

things we lost in the fire - my favorite horror book i’ve read in a good long while.  mariana enriquez is a master at building up a creepy atmosphere.  it’s not gore and guts as much as it is a mounting sense of doom that’s entirely constructed through words and imagery that are so damn well-crafted.  really hoping for more english translations of her work because she is just so skilled a writer.

middlesex (LGBT+) - this took me a while to read because it is the very full history of three different generations of stephanides between those covers but, wow, is it well-written.  it’s moving and deep and winding and detailed and fucking worthwhile.

[vindictivegrace]

Set It All on Fire

Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2208

Notes: One shot, no smut, established relationship, domestic AU, no powers, moving out, moving is annoying as fuck, rage quit, Bucky is a grouch, Steve is kind of a nag, I basically wrote this to unload my own IRL moving stress Summary: Steve and Bucky are moving to a new rental house. Bucky hates the hassles of moving. To make matters worse, Bucky has been left to deal with the bulk of their last minute packing. The house is full of excess junk, Steve is constantly on his case about what to do next, and Bucky is sick of it all. Finally, something happens and it’s the last straw for Bucky. A/N: Originally posted March 25, 2017 on AO3 here. I wrote this while I was in the middle of preparing to move a couple weeks ago. Holy fuck do I hate moving. I have since made it to my new destination, but not without wishing once or twice (or every single day) that I could do what Bucky did in this fic. Let me know what you think. Enjoy ^_^ ****************

“Bucky, did you hear what I said?”

“Hm, what?” Bucky blinked to rid himself of his glazed over stare.

His boyfriend huffed, clearly annoyed. “I said…”

And there Steve went again about this and that and whatever else Bucky had to do. The two were moving out of their rental home to a nicer one on the other side of the city. Steve was counting on Bucky to get as much packing done as possible. Bucky had the time. After serving the past four years in the military, he decided to use the GI Bill to take himself to school. He was a part-time student at one of the local universities, and school was on break for the week. Bucky also worked part-time for the university, and luckily his office was closed for the break as well.

“Bucky! You got that?”

“Yeah, yeah, Steve. I heard ya this time.” Bucky really didn’t, but he didn’t have to. Steve was on him for the past few days about everything that had to be done, there was no way Bucky could forget even if he wanted to. Every day before he left and every night before they slept, Steve repeated their endless to-do list. Steve helped when he could, but his long hours at the office meant he wasn’t able to contribute as much as he would like. With such a short deadline to be out of the house—the end of the week—the majority of the work fell on Bucky’s shoulders. He would have to spend his entire break packing up.

“Well okay, Buck. I’m off.” Steve leaned in to give Bucky a warm, lingering kiss. He pulled away, adding, “Look, I know you hate moving, Bucky. Don’t worry—It’ll be over before you know it and we’ll be in our new house.”

“Honestly, it would be over a lot sooner if we didn’t have so much crap laying around Stevie. Seriously, we don’t need all this junk!” Bucky gestured behind himself. It was true the house was cluttered with everything imaginable, but Steve always freaked out and put his foot down when Bucky as much as hinted at getting rid of their stuff.

Steve didn’t have time to freak out this morning, so he quickly cut down Bucky’s protest. “We can deal with the extra junk later. Right now we need to focus on getting out of here.” Bucky heard the finality in his voice. “Okay, I’m off for real now, Bucky.” Steve gave Bucky a quick smooch this time and left out the door.

Bucky closed the door and turned around to face the behemoth of a task in front of him: All the shit in their house.

He ran a hand through his long brown hair and sighed.

“Fuck me.”

-----

In one of Steve’s earlier nightly recitals of their to-do list, he had recommended Bucky start in one room and work his way to the living room and kitchen. Having a system for tackling all their junk would keep the frustration at bay. It would also make it easier for Steve to figure out where he could jump in and help when he came home.

Bucky was having none of that. If he had to do most of the packing, he would do it his way. Which meant random anger-inducing chaos. He started in the kitchen, tackling random cabinets as he saw fit. He opened one above and was instantly flooded by Tupperware, like he was part of a goddamn infomercial. Afterwards, he moved to the partially finished basement, looked around at the mess, told himself “NOPE,” and went back upstairs. He boxed up the books in Steve’s home office and left it at that, knowing that his lover would prefer to go through the rest of the room’s contents on his own. He went back to the kitchen to load the dishwasher and do the rest by hand. They were always leaving huge piles of dishes in the sink. He skipped the bathroom for now. He could clean that towards the end of their stay.

Later, in their bedroom, Bucky worked on their clothes. His were easy. Bucky kept a simple utilitarian wardrobe that still flattered his muscular physique. He usually stuck to henleys, jeans, and boots. He had enough clothes to add or remove layers as needed, and a jacket and a coat to accommodate the predominant seasons of the region. He had a set of workout clothes, as well, and he saved on pajamas by sleeping in an undershirt and his boxer briefs, or in the nude.

Steve was a different story. For a guy who was modest and bashful about how ridiculously hot he actually was, Steve had no problem showing himself off in as many clothes as possible. He had t-shirts, tank tops, button down flannel, basic longsleeves, sweaters, hoodies, dress shirts for work, dress shirts for going out, his workout clothes; tons of jeans in various ass-hugging, junk framing shades and cuts (okay, Bucky liked those); sooooo many shoes; jackets for warm weather; jackets for cooler weather; jackets for when the weather couldn’t decide what it was doing; five heavy winter coats (what person needed FIVE winter coats???); underwear in all shades, cuts, and materials imaginable (okay, Bucky liked those too, especially the lacey boyshorts and thongs); and more. Bucky had never seen anyone, man or woman, own so many clothes. The sight of their overrun closet alone was mind-boggling. Steve could at least cut down on the shirts. Half of his stash could restock all the clothing stores downtown for a month!

Bucky put his face in his hands and groaned loudly. The frustration was building fast.

-----

Of course when Steve came home he threw a fit at Bucky’s randomness. Now they were both climbing over boxes and bags and stacks of junk like they were moving through a homemade obstacle course.

Of course Steve’s annoyance fed into Bucky’s.

“Well maybe we wouldn’t have to climb over everything if we didn’t have so much stuff! Why don’t we get rid of all of this crap? We could donate it or give it away. Hell, we could even do a last minute garage sale. I’d be willing whip that together.”

“No, Bucky!”

“Or we could set it all on fire and be done with it.”

“NO.”

Of course, when the night was over, Steve was running through their to-do list. They still had to transfer their utility services, transfer their internet service, change their mailing address, change their address at the bank, send out their final rent, give a parting gift to the neighbors (‘Fuck the neighbors,’ Bucky thought to himself. ‘Their tiny dog always poops on our porch!’), get their lawnmower back from Sam who had borrowed it after his broke, mow the lawn, take out the trash and recycling, take the designated box of food to the food bank, on top of everything else they had to do at home still. Which included...

And Steve just kept rattling off the neverending, damn it all to hell, to-do list. Bucky had already fallen asleep. Steve didn’t notice until the familiar light snoring started. He sighed, turned out the light, and snuggled himself under Bucky’s arm, allowing the gentle rise and fall of Bucky’s chest to lull him to sleep.

-----

Days later, after more packing and more of Steve’s lists, and more problems coming up, and more things to do, Bucky just about had it. Maybe he really would set everything on fire. The illicit desire was growing each minute. There was no point in keeping any of this junk around anymore. He and Steve would have to unpack it all in the new house, and deal with it again when they moved once more later on, and again, and again! Bucky wished he could squeeze his eyes shut and magically time travel to one month later when they would be settled down in their now home and all their packing woes were far behind them. He was so sick of this shit. He was barely holding on. If anything set him off now, he knew he would lose it.

He opened the front door to get the mail for the last time when he felt something squish under his boot. He didn’t need to look down to know what it was—the smell alone was enough to tell.

Bucky stepped in dog shit.

THAT’S. IT.

-----

Steve was packing up for the day when his phone vibrated. He let it go to voicemail. He just wanted to leave the office and get home so he could help Bucky. He knew Bucky was getting more tense and fed up with packing. It was already late, the sun having set an hour ago. The phone vibrated again—short pulses this time. A text message. Then a longer set of vibrations for a phone call. Then short pulsing. A voicemail. Followed by more vibrations. Steve started getting nervous. This wasn’t good. He looked at the phone. All the missed phone calls, voicemails, and texts were coming from Natasha. When the phone vibrated again, Steve picked up.

“Rogers.”

“Steve, it’s Nat!” she was frantic. “Where are you?”

“I’m still at work trying to leave. What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m calling to ask you that! Didn’t you hear?”

------

Steve rushed home just in time to see the spectacle. There were fire trucks, police cars, and ambulances everywhere. Emergency personnel were running back and forth. Everyone in the neighborhood and the surrounding area gathered around to see the biggest tower of fire he had ever seen. There were so many phones out, no doubt recording the drama and posting it online. The local news stations were off to the side reporting live. The view almost reminded Steve of the massive bonfires the city puts on during the summer. Except this wasn’t a bonfire—it was whatever was left of his rental house.

Where was Bucky? Steve worked his way through the crowd. His eyes darted this way and that looking for Bucky, hoping, begging, pleading that Bucky was okay. That was all he cared about. Panic was flooding through his entire body. No, no! If Bucky was in the house, there was no way he could have survived a blaze this big. Steve couldn’t lose his Bucky. Not like this, please! Steve reached the front of the crowd, where caution tape and police officers kept the crowd back and firefighters rushed by to kill the fire. The heat was overwhelming.

“Sir, please stay back. It isn’t safe here!” an officer warned him.

“But that’s my house!” Steve yelled back while pointing at the blaze. “Please, Officer, have you seen a man about my height and age, with shoulder length brown hair, muscular build, and an endless scowl???” Steve’s eyes were stinging from the smoke and his own fears playing out in his mind.

“Oh, that guy…Yeah, he’s over there,” the officer replied, thumbing over his shoulder in a general direction behind them.

Bucky was leaning against an ambulance. He refused medical care. His arms were crossed and his scowl was deep, so the paramedics let him be.

Steve ran to him. “Bucky! Oh thank god you’re okay!” Steve threw his arms around Bucky and hugged him hard, effectively killing Bucky’s customary stress glare. The hug didn’t last long. Steve pulled himself back at arm's length to look at Bucky head on. “What happened here? What happened to you? How did this happen? Did you see anything?”

Bucky’s eyes shifted—right, left, lower corner—and settled on Steve’s. “I stepped out of the house for a little bit. Went to grab the mail. Turned around and saw smoke. I ran inside to save the important stuff. I ran out. The whole place went up in flames.”

Steve knew that look and tone. Bucky always acted this way when something was off.

Then it instantly clicked in Steve’s mind.

The panic Steve felt earlier transformed into stomach sinking dread. His eyes widened, the whites standing out in the blaze-hued smoky night. He stepped closer to whisper, his grip on Bucky’s shoulders tightening.

“Bucky...What did you DO?”

Bucky gave Steve a small smirk. The night, the ongoing fire, and the spinning lights from all the emergency workers’ vehicles played off Bucky’s visage, leaving him unnaturally darkened by shadows, like an everyday man who finally gave in to his most sinister carnal desire.

“What we should have done in the first place. Now Steve, the story is ‘I stepped out of the house for a little bit. Went to grab the mail. Turned around and saw smoke. I ran inside to save the important stuff. I ran out. The whole place went up in flames.’” He emphasized each sentence to cement the “facts” into Steve’s mind and the unspoken message: WE’RE IN THIS TOGETHER.

“Bucky…” Steve was horrified. Was this really happening?

“I’m an idiot Steve,” Bucky continued in that tone. “I shouldn’t have risked my life like that for paper, right? Documents can be replaced. A life can’t. You’re just happy that I’m safe and sound. RIGHT, Stevie?”

“Oh my god, Bucky.”

“You shouldn’t buy so many of those damn shirts, Stevie. They’re basically kindling.”

[dazzledbybooks]

I am so excited that MISCHIEF & MAYHEM by L.E. Rico is ON SALE for .99 today that I wanted to share the news! If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book by Author L.E. Rico, be sure to check out all the details below. This blitz also includes a giveaway for a $10 Amazon or B&N gift card, International, courtesy of L.E. and Rockstar Book Tours. So if you’d like a chance to win, enter in the Rafflecopter at the bottom of this post. About the Book: Title: MISCHIEF & MAYHEM Author: L.E. Rico Pub. Date: July 9, 2018 Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC (Bliss) Formats: Paperback, eBook Pages: 315 Find it: Goodreads, Amazon, B&N, iBooks, Kobo Welcome to Mayhem, Minnesota, home of the Knitty Kitty, The Little Slice of Heaven Pie Shop, and O’Halloran’s Pub—owned by the four young women known as The Whiskey Sisters. In the wake of her divorce, Jameson O’Halloran has gone man-vegan. And this is one diet she’s determined to stick with. Even when her long-lost ex-brother-in-law shows up looking like two scoops of double dutch dipped in chocolate… She’s not giving in. Been there and still wearing the messy T-shirt. It’s been a decade since Scott Clarke left his family and his hometown, never to return. But when tragedy strikes, he finds himself dragged back to the land of gossip, judgment, and the one woman he absolutely, positively, without a doubt can never have. His brother’s ex is off-limits. He just needs to keep repeating that to himself until it sinks in. Excerpt: The shelf is a little too high for my short self, and I’m only able to brush the dishes with my fingertips. “Oh, here, let me help you with that…” Before I can object, he’s standing behind me, reaching over me to get the dishes. For a brief second, his front is pressed against my back. His broad, muscled, perfectly sculpted front. I feel a wave of unwelcome warmth beginning under my collar and creeping up my neck. “Thanks…” I murmur awkwardly, keeping my back to him for a moment longer in an attempt to quash my blush.  “Okay. I’m just going to grab a shower before my brother gets here, if you don’t mind.” “Nope. Not at all,” I say quickly. “You go right ahead.” Once he disappears around the corner, I silently smack my palm to my forehead. What was that, Jameson? Why the blush? He’s just your ex-husband’s brother, that’s all. This is insane. I’ve got to stop this childish behavior. No. More. Men. Remember? No thinking about men. No looking at men. No fantasizing about men. Especially not that man! I’m still shaking my head and silently berating myself when I hear him behind me. “Hey, Jameson, do you happen to know if my dad keeps an extra toothbrush around? I dropped mine in the toilet and…” I don’t hear the end of his sentence because, when I turn to face him, I suddenly can’t hear anything. I’m too entranced by the sight of him wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. Oh, crap, oh crap, oh crap… I am in so much trouble here. No men. No men. No men… I repeat the mantra over and over again in my head, but clearly the rest of my body isn’t getting the memo. Q&A With L.E. How did you pick Minnesota to be the location of the Story? L.E. (Lauren): My primary career is as a classical music radio DJ and when I was in my late twenties, I had the chance to work for a nationally syndicated service called Classical24—which happened to be based in St. Paul, MN. Even though I’d lived all over the east coast, I knew the Midwest was a whole other world, so I was pretty scared when I got there. But the Minnesotans welcomed me with open arms and helped me weather (pun totally intended) my first winters, buying and maintaining my first house and my ongoing struggle with depression. I had friends almost immediately and was totally enamored of the quirky, cool community around me. The polka mass at the local Catholic church, the obsession with hotdish, and the state fair—where everything is on a stick and Princess Kay of the Milky Way reigns supreme, were some of my favorites. Honestly, had I not met my husband and moved back to New York, I’d probably still be there now! Was it always your intention with this book to do it about a sister and then two brothers? L.E. (Lauren): Yes. We first see Jameson in book one, Blame it on the Bet and it’s clear that her marriage to Win is in trouble. Knowing that her book would be next, I was already concocting scenarios for her to find love after divorce and by having someone who’s been away for so long, I was able to use him to reintroduce the readers —who may or may not have read Blame it on the Bet—to the whacky town of Mayhem and its quirky residents. Plus, I knew it would make Win craaaazy! And that’s always a bonus :^) Was it always your idea to have different issues like stroke, adoption, working in foreign countries a part of the story or it just came as the story flowed? L.E. (Lauren): It all came as the story unraveled under my fingers. My characters often tell me what their stories are, believe it or not! I start off with a very basic idea of who they are and then the events just kind of unfold.  Adoption played into this story. Was that something you researched or did you know someone who went through that? L.E. (Lauren): I have two uncles who were adopted—the youngest of whom is two years younger than me. He and I grew up more like brother and sister and we’re still very, very close today. And, while I didn’t purposely set out to write a story about adoption, it was easy to paint that kind of attitude that we were raised with—family is family is family, blood or not. In the case of my elder uncle, my grandparents had to fight for him when, mid-adoption, a “white” family was interested in taking him (my grandparents are Latino). Those were totally different times—even though it was just in 1961—and it was a battle but they never backed down. So this idea that Big Win and Marjorie would do whatever they had to do to adopt that child and keep him—and his identity—safe wasn’t foreign to me. Was the county fair always part of your original story? L.E. (Lauren): Ohhhhhh yeah… I’ve never seen anything like the Minnesota State fair. The food is all deep-fried and on a stick, the rides are amazing, there are people walking around in bee costumes for the honey judging. And, of course, there’s Princess Kay of the Milky Way and her royal court— the inspiration for my Princess Mary of Midwestern Dairy. They really do make a butter bust of her! How could I NOT include that?! Although, I have to admit that the float catastrophe was all mine. Do you have a process that you come up with when you are choosing names and personalities of your characters? L.E. (Lauren): I’ve run through most of the guy names I like so I sometimes use a name generator for help with that. I’ve got a ton of girl names, though. Sometimes I consult a baby names book. The personalities just kind of unfold as I write. I had a good idea of who Jameson, Win and Big Win were based on Blame it on the Bet. Scott was a mystery to me—I had to figure out what it was about him that kept him from coming home and confronting his past for a full decade. Oh, and then there’s little Jackson…God help us all. He was the most fun of all! I’m at a loss for what I’ll do with him as he gets older in the upcoming books! Do you use daily events sometimes as your inspirations? L.E. (Lauren): Oh, sure, all the time! The character of Bryan, Hennessy’s boyfriend, is basically me when I first moved to Minnesota. I was the fish out of water—especially when it came to things like winter preparedness and regional foods like lutefisk (yuck!) and cheese curds (yum!). But more than events it’s people I know who inspire my characters. Janet Lahti, the pie-making mystic is actually an aunt of mine. She’s a bit of a psychic and has had some really spooky occurrences over the years. Julie Freddino, aka The Knitty Kitty, is a girlfriend of mine who took up knitting and gave me a pussyhat last year. It gave me the idea for her business and she picked out her own purple hair. Did you always have big Win getting sick at the beginning in your draft? L.E. (Lauren): Oh, yeah. In the absence of the late “Pops” O’Halloran, Big Win is the paternal figure here. So when his life is in serious jeopardy, it’s a crisis that sucks them all in—the sisters, Win Jr, Scott—even Jackson is effected by the fall of his “goppa.” So it’s a good thread to bring them all together in shared fear and stress and grief. And with his life on the line, it was an opportunity for me to explore the kind of man he’d been when he was younger—when Scott and Win came along. It was also a chance to really see his incredible strength and the love that comes with that. Was that scene considered the hook to the story? L.E. (Lauren): I’m big on starting things right smack in the middle so that the reader is immediately thrown into the deep end. And that image of Big Win on the floor with Jameson giving him CPR and little Jackson wailing in the background—well, it doesn’t get a whole lot more high-stakes than that. When you began to write this book did you know it was going to be a romance and a mystery? L.E. (Lauren): Bringing Scott home was easy—his father’s health crisis put him in an impossible position. He had to come back. But that begs the question—if he’s such a great guy, why did he leave in the first place? So, yeah, it was kind of a mystery for me as well while I sorted out what kind of demons might make someone run away from their family—from their life—for a decade. When do you know that the time in the story calls for humor, like the float scene at the fair? L.E. (Lauren): Honestly, I didn’t even know I was funny until the reviews came in for book number one—Blame it on the Bet. So it was pretty scary approaching Mischief and Mayhem thinking I HAD to be funny. But I found my way. There were a couple of early drafts that were just way too dark and my editor helped me find my way back to a more lighthearted, funnier place—like Princess Mary showing up at the pub and the iguana on the plane. Of course, there’s always going to be something around the Knitty Kitty. But, yeah, that float scene—it was totally organic and it STILL cracks me up! If your book was made into a movie who would you have play… L.E. (Lauren): Yikes! This is always tough for me… Jameson: Rose Leslie Scott: Theo James Win Jr.:  Alex Pettyfer Win Sr.:  Treat Williams What song or songs best describes your couple or book as a whole? L.E. (Lauren): It’s the theme song from the prologue through to the epilogue—with a generation in between: “Make You Feel My Love” – Garth Brooks  “Make You Feel My Love” – Adele What is your next project and when is due out? L.E. (Lauren): I’ve just released a new, non-Whiskey novel, Counterpoint about two concert pianists who bond over a tragic past, a dismal future, and their love for one another. 2019 will also see books for the remaining two sisters, Walker and Bailey. About L.E: Award-Winning author Lauren Rico also happens to be  one of the top classical music broadcasters in the country. Her voice is heard nationally on SiriusXM’s Symphony Hall channel, as well as on radio stations in New York City, Charlotte, and Tampa. She’s even been known to accompany travelers as they fly the skies over Thailand, Oman, and China as part of the in-flight entertainment on several airlines. Her love and passion for classical music have allowed her to breathe new life into the stories of the great composers. And now Lauren is telling some stories of her own… Beginning with her erotic thriller, Reverie (Harmony House Productions, 2016), she set out to “put the sexy back in Bach,” creating a riveting tale of passion, deception and redemption set against the backdrop of an international music competition. She rounded out the trilogy with Rhapsody (Harmony House Productions, 2016) and Requiem (Harmony House Productions, 2017). From there, Lauren partnered with Entangled Publishing, LLC, to create the first in her Symphony Hall series of romance novels, Solo (Entangled Publishing 2017). Her most recent release, Mistletoe in Mayhem, is the third in the five-book Whiskey Sisters series (Entangled 2018). Upcoming projects include two more Whiskey Sisters romances, a follow-up to Solo and a super-secret, as-of-yet-unnamed thriller. Lauren hopes to bring classical music to a new audience by showcasing it in twisty, steamy stories that grab the reader and keep them turning pages — and YouTubing the music — into the wee hours. When she’s not on talking on the radio or typing on her laptop, Lauren enjoys time with her husband and spectacularly spoiled mini-schnauzer. Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Book Bub Giveaway Details: 1 winner will win a $10 Amazon or B&N gift card, International. a Rafflecopter giveaway The symbol of the Gallows Saint. About S.A.: S.A. Klopfenstein grew up on a steady dose of Tolkien and Star Wars. As a child, he wrote his first story about a sleepwalking killer who was executed by lethal injection. He lives in the American West with his wife and their dog, Iorek Byrnison. He can be found exploring the peaks of the Rocky Mountains, or daring the halls of the middle school where he teaches Language Arts. Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads Giveaway Details: 1 lucky winner will win a finished copy of THE SHADOW WATCH & THE RAGE OF SAINTS, US Only. a Rafflecopter giveaway

http://www.dazzledbybooks.com/2019/04/mischief-and-mayhem-book-blitz.html

[kidsviral-blog]

Here's Undeniable, Irrefutable Proof That Owls Are The Best. Courtesy Of Their Biggest Fan.

New Post has been published on https://kidsviral.info/heres-undeniable-irrefutable-proof-that-owls-are-the-best-courtesy-of-their-biggest-fan/

Here's Undeniable, Irrefutable Proof That Owls Are The Best. Courtesy Of Their Biggest Fan.

Redditor RAVENous410 loves owls, like really, REALLY loves owls. But who can blame her, they are adorable.

She works as an owl researcher and yes, I know what you’re thinking… “Owl research? really?” But she gets to record awesome things like this:

“[6:52pm – Owl still adorable]”

Sounds like a great job, but let’s let her excitement take it from here. Read on.

Myself with one of our research subjects.

A student took this, I’ll admit. I’m going to give a bit of info on our project, since people were curious, but I’ll try to intersperse it with cute photos throughout.

Our location. It’s nothing world-famous but I really love it here, especially in fall. It’s a special place.

Oh?

One of our nets. What? You can’t see it? Yes, that’s sort of the point.

Owl momentary caught in the net.

Video monitors. This way, we can go get owls as soon as they’re in the net (we usually chill up in the banding station, where it’s not 30 degrees). Even if we don’t see owls on the video, we still check the nets at least once an hour.

Getting weighed. This was one of the fluffier posteriors I encountered this year. Owls can generally be determined as male or female depending on their weight and a few other factors.

Getting banded.

Brand new band!

“I am going to kill you as soon as I have a chance.”

The secret of silent flight: The front side of the owls primary (flight) feathers are fringed to break up the air moving over the wing, making them silent. Or nearly so.

Aging the bird using the molt pattern of the wing feathers. Sort of a bad photo.

Aging an owl using UV light. Feathers have a molecule in them called porphyrin, which reflects UV light. It breaks down in natural light over time, so pink feathers (high reflection) are new and full of porphyrin, while blue feathers (no reflection) are old. The feather patterns tell you how old the bird is (All new = bird that hatched this year).

Saw-whet owls are one of only 5 species in the world with external ear structures. That little arch is part of their skull. It helps them hear, as the ears are cocked in different directions so sounds can be pinpointed. Contrary to popular belief, owl vision isn’t that much better than ours! It’s their hearing that’s great. Edit: I suppose I should be more specific in saying that owls have a ton of rods, so they’re very light-sensitive, but they’re not color sensitive, and don’t really hunt as much using their eyes. They’re more reliant on sound. A lot of times they’re hunting things under brush which they can’t even see, so vision wouldn’t be that helpful. So I misspoke/was incorrect. Hope this helps! I’m still a youngin’ in the field, relatively speaking. Please forgive me!

After I took this, she shit on my hand.

One of my favorite photos of the year.

Madame, I really must protest.

Another favorite. I was snapchatting the picture to my brother, never got a chance to get a proper photo.

Babe, please.

A good shot of the facial disk and whiskers.

Taken from above, not upside-down!

These are some photos I took outdoors, when the owls weren’t in hand. I’m an aspiring photographer, so I’m rather proud of these! Still have a ways to go, skill-wise.

Owl butt. Wanted to share.

Bonus photos of some short-eared owl spotting I did at the end of the season! They hunt in open fields around dusk. I took this picture through a spotting scope.

And another! 🙂

Here are some common questions about my work on owls:

Q: Is that a baby owl?

A: No! It’s a Northern Saw-whet Owl. They breed in Canada and often winter in the US, ranging widely. They eat a lot of red-backed voles, and never grow much larger than a potato. They’re good to research because there are a lot of them, they migrate fairly dependably, and they don’t try to rip your fingers off. Many other owls (including even smaller varieties!) will try very hard to do this. Saw-whets can certainly hurt (especially if they hook a talon into your cuticle, that’s the worst), but it’s nothing too serious.

Q: How do you catch them?

A: We put a speaker system out in a low pine woodland, surrounded by 4 mist nets in a square formation (see below for info on mist nets). We play a loud territorial Saw-whet call, and birds migrating nearby hear the call, come to investigate, and get trapped in the nets.

Q: Mist nets?

A: Yes! They’re nets that are about 12 ft tall and 20 ft long (they can vary depending on the net size you want, as well as how stretched out they get over time). They have four panels that each run the length of the net, with “bags” at the bottom to catch the birds. They’re very fine and hard to see, hence “Mist”.

Q: But doesn’t that hurt the owl?

A: Incredibly rarely. The birds hit the vertical part of the net, and fall into the loose “bag”, getting tangled. Due to the clever structure of the net, the bird usually is resting most of its weight on its belly or back, thus putting little stress on the wings and legs (however, owls are pretty hearty as it is. I feel that there’s more to be concerned about with songbirds, which are much more fragile). This year we had a single bird that caught its wing funny, and so my supervisor kept the bird overnight and fed him up a bit (Note: HE IS PERMITTED TO DO THIS by both the state and federal Gov’t). The bird flew off fine the next day.

Q: What do you do with them?

A: We weigh and measure them, age them, band them, and sometimes take blood or feather samples for DNA-related stuff. The band is so that, if/when the bird is recaptured somewhere else, there’s info on where else the bird has been, and its condition at that location. Pretty dang useful. After that, we let them go! We usually have a given bird for about a half an hour.

Q: Why are there pictures of the owl in a can? That seems cruel!

A: For the benefit of the owl and for us. If its head is in the can, it can’t bite or claw at us very effectively, making our work much faster and more efficient. We try to keep the owls for as short a time as possible. Also, it’s dark in the can. The bird can’t see much, and this limitation of stimuli makes the process much less stressful for the bird (AKA it can’t see giant humans doing weird stuff to them). Ever seen a hood on a hawk or falcon? Same deal, except hoods don’t really fit on the owls’ fat heads.

Q: SO CUTE! Can I have one?

A: Naw, sorry. The Migratory Bird Act protects the crap out of birds like these, and almost all other birds as well. You can’t touch them, keep them, or even pick up and save their feathers without a permit (a lot of people don’t even know that)! I was sub-permitted federally, and had my own state permit to do this work. If you ever come across an injured bird, please call a wildlife rehab center.

So what have we learned today kids? Owls are just as awesome as we always thought! Source: imgur.com

Read more: http://viralnova.com/owl-research/