(no subject)
Right, so, after running all over on Monday for this new job (potentially) and dealing with various car insurance issues (I saved almost two hundred dollars by switching to Gieco!), I decided to take yesterday off. I had gone to the library on Monday between phone calls and picked up Death Masks and Blood Rites by Jim Butcher, along with Ill Wind and a Georgette Heyer book. (Thank you, jane_drew_ , for introducing me to her.) Now, those of you who recall my avid and rather loud squees involving the Codex Alera will be surprised to learn that the Dresden Files have not held my attention and enthusiasm in the same way.
That has all changed. I read both books yesterday. I tried to tell myself that one was enough, and I should pace myself and do other things, but... I wanted to know what happened next... and the other book was right there. It's hard to explain why these books so captured my imagination whereas I felt mostly ambivalent towards earlier parts of the series, but I think it was for two reasons. One, I was familiar with the characters before, but something clicked in these - maybe because he stopped talking about the nature of the relationships and really just let them act it out? - and it made me actually care and invest whereas I hadn't really so much before. Two, the bad guys got really, really good. You get the feeling that whatever Harry had faced before was just chump change compared to what's coming.
And did I mention that the secondary characters rock? Because if not, that just needs to be thrown out there.
And since I can't remember what I wanted the rest of this post to be about, I will close with a word of the day thingy. Because everyone needs more thingys. *nod*
The dictionary.com word of the day is "rictus."
Elizabeth lifted the bone china tea cup to her mouth and took a sip before setting it back on the saucer carefully. It wouldn't do to tremor. Anything other than the most normal of actions could draw Its attention, and as It did not seem to be aware that she could see It, Elizabeth was keen on keeping it that way.
She adjusted her posture ever so slightly in the high backed chair, shifting a minute amount to the side. If she could discretely reach into her Gladstone bag which rested on the floor beside her, then she would have the means to face It with as much fortitude as she could muster.
She daren't look at It for long. How It had become attached to Sir Reginold, one of the kindest and most influential men of her acquaintance, Elizabeth did not know. But Its claws had sunk deep into his shoulders, the straggly strands of Its transparent maine draped over Sir Reginold's head, and Its beady, glowing yellow eyes were restless, scanning the restaurant consistently. Worse, and what made it most difficult for Elizabeth to resist staring and trembling, was Its gaping maw of a mouth. It was like darkness itself set in a transparent mockery of a leonine monstrosity.
Quite by accident, her toilette slipped off of her lap and on to the floor beside her bag. She leaned to the side and snapped opened her bag, her hand closing around the large silver cross she kept strapped to the side. Sitting up, she rested her hand on her lap replaced her toilette over her clenched fist. Casually, Elizabeth reached for her tea cup once again before attempting to locate Sir Reginold in her peripheral vision.
The cup clattered against the saucer. It was looking straight at her, the darkness where a normal creature's mouth should be stretched into a gaping grimace, twisted up just enough to be a mockery of a smile. That sense of darkness, of hunger, of indomitable evil rushed her. Elizabeth set the tea cup down and reached to clutch the cross with both hands. She said a quiet prayer and closed her eyes.
So she never knew when she started to glow.
That has all changed. I read both books yesterday. I tried to tell myself that one was enough, and I should pace myself and do other things, but... I wanted to know what happened next... and the other book was right there. It's hard to explain why these books so captured my imagination whereas I felt mostly ambivalent towards earlier parts of the series, but I think it was for two reasons. One, I was familiar with the characters before, but something clicked in these - maybe because he stopped talking about the nature of the relationships and really just let them act it out? - and it made me actually care and invest whereas I hadn't really so much before. Two, the bad guys got really, really good. You get the feeling that whatever Harry had faced before was just chump change compared to what's coming.
And did I mention that the secondary characters rock? Because if not, that just needs to be thrown out there.
And since I can't remember what I wanted the rest of this post to be about, I will close with a word of the day thingy. Because everyone needs more thingys. *nod*
The dictionary.com word of the day is "rictus."
Elizabeth lifted the bone china tea cup to her mouth and took a sip before setting it back on the saucer carefully. It wouldn't do to tremor. Anything other than the most normal of actions could draw Its attention, and as It did not seem to be aware that she could see It, Elizabeth was keen on keeping it that way.
She adjusted her posture ever so slightly in the high backed chair, shifting a minute amount to the side. If she could discretely reach into her Gladstone bag which rested on the floor beside her, then she would have the means to face It with as much fortitude as she could muster.
She daren't look at It for long. How It had become attached to Sir Reginold, one of the kindest and most influential men of her acquaintance, Elizabeth did not know. But Its claws had sunk deep into his shoulders, the straggly strands of Its transparent maine draped over Sir Reginold's head, and Its beady, glowing yellow eyes were restless, scanning the restaurant consistently. Worse, and what made it most difficult for Elizabeth to resist staring and trembling, was Its gaping maw of a mouth. It was like darkness itself set in a transparent mockery of a leonine monstrosity.
Quite by accident, her toilette slipped off of her lap and on to the floor beside her bag. She leaned to the side and snapped opened her bag, her hand closing around the large silver cross she kept strapped to the side. Sitting up, she rested her hand on her lap replaced her toilette over her clenched fist. Casually, Elizabeth reached for her tea cup once again before attempting to locate Sir Reginold in her peripheral vision.
The cup clattered against the saucer. It was looking straight at her, the darkness where a normal creature's mouth should be stretched into a gaping grimace, twisted up just enough to be a mockery of a smile. That sense of darkness, of hunger, of indomitable evil rushed her. Elizabeth set the tea cup down and reached to clutch the cross with both hands. She said a quiet prayer and closed her eyes.
So she never knew when she started to glow.